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realasslesbian · 2 years ago

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Also, lemme paint a picture for you, of maybe the lowest moment of my life, due entirely to the robodebt scheme, since I'm so good at 'fun creative writing' lmao

It's been raining all week. The roof of the car that I live in is leaking right on my pillow, but there's not much I can do about that except put a takeaway container that I found outside in the gutter on my pillow and empty it every fifteen minutes. I've just come from the doctor where I spent my last $50 getting a large skin cancer surgically removed from my shoulder. The doctor, who had his nose wrinkled the whole time, because I hadn't showered in a whole week, told me to 'try and keep the wound clean'.

I drive to the backstreet behind my work, where I have to be at 6am the next morning. As I turn into the street, my car stops. I wrap a plastic bag around my twelve stitches and get out in the rain to push the car off the road. After half an hour of tinkering, I figure out the fuel pump has shit itself. Thank god for my 6.6GPA science degree, I know exactly how to fix it. So I call up the nearest mechanic (a two hour walk away) and reserve the part for when my paycheck comes in next week. By this point I've busted open three of those stitches. But it's not like I can go anywhere and do anything about it, so I just try and thread them back together as best I can (yes, it does hurt, a lot) then I smother it in antiseptic and hope for the best.

I get ready for bed, by constructing a gutter out of plastic bags to divert the water from the leaking roof off my damp pillow. I'm pretty exhausted at this point, so despite being wet from the rain and sticky from several days of unwashed sweat, I fall right asleep. I'm occasionally woken up by hoons screeching by, slamming on the horn when they see a car with foggy windows and screaming 'wake up' as they go by. I'm sort of used to this frequent nightly reminder of society's active disdain for the less fortunate.

I go into work the next day at 6am. I work most shifts alone, but at swap over my co-workers make sure to let me know I look and smell like shit. They know I'm homeless. They don't care. No one does. Well, that is except for the dog walker who calls the cops on Day Three of me being stuck in the same spot. The cops give me a move on order. Thanks to my first class legal honours degree I know I have 24 hours to comply before they can do anything. My paycheck comes in at midnight, so I'm hoping to have my car back on the road the next day.

I eat some white rice, take a leak in an ice cream container, and go to sleep under my makeshift gutter. I wake up in the morning to absolutely excruciating pain in my jaw. I dunno what it is, but it's the worst pain I've ever felt in my life. There doesn't appear to be anything immediately wrong, other than swelling in my gums, so I just down half a packet of pain killers and make a note to swing by the pharmacy for something stronger on my two hour walk to the mechanic today. It would later turn out I had developed bone cancer in my jaw from the abscess an untreated wisdom tooth had created.

Anyway, five hours and about 20km of walking with a 10kg fuel pump hanging off my one good shoulder later and I'm back at my broken down home. I have about three hours to get out of here before the cops show up to fine and/or arrest me for 'camping illegally' on a city street. Usually replacing a fuel pump would take me half hour, max, but I'm in significant pain. The painkillers the pharmacist gave me are helping, but I'm still borderline delirious. I spend a long time just laying under the car, the greasy city rainwater in the gutter running directly into my now infected surgical wound, just clutching my face, trying to make the pain in my jaw stop. I kind of want to cry, but I ain't cried since I was a kid and I just don't really know how to physically do that anymore. I lay under my car, not really knowing how much time had passed, but pretty anxious the police would show up any minute.

In my semi-delirious state I think about how it wasn't supposed to be like this. I'd worked so hard at my education for nearly a decade for it to not be like this. And yet the Australian government had swooped in and destroyed that burgeoning career for no other reason than wanton malice. I was supposed to be sitting at a nice dry desk, on the upper floors of some top tier law firm's CBD office tower. But I couldn't be admitted as a lawyer with a welfare debt to my name, even if it was obviously fabricated. My greatest discomfort should have been the squelch of rain in my nice shoes when I accidentally stepped into a puddle on the city street. It should have been beyond my comprehension to be laying in a gutter, not even worried about the dirty water in my busted open surgical wound, because of the overwhelming pain of some as yet unknown malady in my jaw. I would never have to know how many people (mainly men) will go out of their way to make a homeless person's life just a bit worse. I would never have to know how little it would take for friends and family to abandon me. I would never have to know that 'unconditional love' doesn't really exist, not when the government says people like me, people with welfare 'debts', don't deserve anything at all. And even back then I knew my 'debt' wasn't a real debt, but no one would believe me. Still not many do, but back then there was no class action, there was no royal commission, there was just the government's propaganda machine against dirty dole bludgers like me.

Anyway, I got the fuel pump in and, while I probably shouldn't have been driving in my state, I drove to the nearest doctor, the one who had originally done the cancer excision. I don't remember too much, due to the pain, but I do remember him saying things like 'what drugs did you take' and 'I'm not sure there's much of a point in me cleaning this up if you're going to not take care of it'. Such is life, I suppose.

I was fairly new to being homeless at that point. I'd only been on the streets a couple months. I've learned and toughened up a lot since then. I still have days and weeks and months where everything goes wrong, but I'm more prepared for it. For example, I try and keep antibiotics and prescription painkillers on hand, even if I have to lie to get a renewed prescription. I've upgraded to a good van and I voluntarily spend my days under it, learning everything I can, fixing and maintaining everything I can. I keep a close eye on the weather. I stay out of populated areas, even if that means staying unemployed, because in the long run, I'll save more money not paying the fines I get from nosy cityslickers than I would in a job. Also I taught myself how to hunt and forage, which reduces my grocery bill significantly. I've basically just accepted survival as the only option.

So I'm sorry if I come off a bit feral to anyone sitting pretty in their nice little house, with their nice little shower, and nice little toilet, and nice little $20 steak they bought at the supermarket, and their nice little as yet unchallenged fantasy land where they have more in common with politicians on $900 000 a year salaries than with the homeless, and their nice little government-sponsored ideas about how anyone the government says is a bad person is in fact a bad person, and their nice little personalities where it's apparently acceptable to have a dig at the traumatic experiences of people who have endured a hell that is so unimaginable, it must be a lie, no matter how fucking watertight the evidence is.

Actually lemme fact-check a little here, because turns out I'm not sorry for being feral. Actually I think the real ferals are the people who choose to ignore the factual, legally-proven, federal court-backed, royal commission-backed experiences of robodebt victims, and instead choose to dismiss, harass and abuse some of the most vulnerable members of society who have endured wrongs and horrors most people can scarcely imagine. I can't even begin to understand the mentality, the lack of basic human decency, that would be required to stoop so low. I could not possibly look on anyone, even my worst enemy, in such a situation and think to open my mouth and tell them 'lol you're lying get therapy uwu'. I just don't understand what has to be fundamentally wrong with a person for them to act this way. But I see it so much, most people are apparently of this calibre, and I'm apparently one of very few people able to see what tf is wrong with it. So I guess that's just another reason I'm better off being a feral out in the bush. I'll take torrential rain, the blistering heat, brown snakes, red backs, shitty dirt roads and plagues of rats over humanity any day.

#robodebt #homelessness #auspol #australia #authoritarian state #authoritarianism #corruption #corrupt government #poverty

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swampstew · 1 year ago

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I think it goes without saying that your specialty is the kid pirates, but specifically how you characterize them and flesh each of them out is really special 💕

Thank you so much anon😭💋🫶🏽 I’m really glad you think so - my process is I write what they’re like based on anime/manga and the rest I make up, especially when I peel back the layers and do vulnerability - creative writing and psychology degrees coming in CLUTCH.

There are fandom artist and writers that inspired me to develop character and personality traits for the unnamed crew members like @magnuspool @abysscronica and @ceejindeed (I think we can all agree the characters that have been named Haikei, Noe, Oscar, Mohican are objectively correct); and headcanon like House being the ship doctor (I love that Ceej did a House tv show drawing with House the pirate because that was the first thing that came to my mind too🤣)

For everyone else, I just go with aesthetic and vibes. I also project certain traits and/or dialogue from personal life experiences. I always fit in better with the misfits and punks at school growing up so when I started One Piece and met the Kid Pirates I was immediately like “they feel like home” cause they are to me! I just wanna hug them, and spoil them, and bite them.

Anonymously send me what my speciality is as a fic writer☠️

#Raven answers #anon asks #fic specialty ask game #thank you all for the serotonin boosts #I feel like I can def continue the meet the crew series even if the crew’s status will remain unknown for a bit #kid pirate nakama #welcome to the crew

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artofapeach · 2 years ago

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Do you think all the characters sound the same for having some curses in their dialogue?

...

Okay. I need to go to my computer for this. Hang on.

...

There we go.

Alright, so I dunno if you were looking for a whole funking essay, but if you weren't, then you shouldn't have asked me, Momo Marie, certified story and dialogue nerd with a degree in English and a master in Writing Papers in 12 Hours or Less

Disclaimer: I'm gonna use a lot of sarcasm because it's funny but it is NOT at all meant to be hostile towards you anon. This is a totally innocent question and I'm actually excited to answer it :)

First, I need more specification on what you mean by "all characters sound the same for having some curses in their dialogue"?

I'm gonna assume you're talking about Helluva and Hazbin, I figured that part, but what do you mean by some curses in their dialogue? Are you asking if they talk the same because they all curse period? Because if so, easy answer! No. :)

More detailed answer!

Cursing itself is SO FUCKING VERSATILE. I actually kinda have a fascination with it (much to my mom's chagrin). It's like a whole nother language itself! And the way people use language tells SO much of their character.

Let's compare some characters cursing each other out, shall we?

In Spring Broken, when Blitz first sees Verosika, one thing he says is: "I'm surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab, I can see you're still a drunken WHORE clutching onto that Beelzejuice like its the last cock in Hell!"

Blitz is VERY colorful with his language. He knows how to adjust it so that he can properly insult whoever he's talking to. Verosika's a succubus and an alcoholic, so he personalizes the insults to fit her specifically. We've seen in the pilot that Blitz has NO QUALMS with using slurs, and while the show (thankfully) avoids using the more harmful slurs, he still mixes them in to hit right where it hurts. Blitz compares Verosika to a whore, not for other demons or humans, but for alcohol, she needs drink more than she needs cock.

This isn't the only time Blitz does this! In Loo Loo Land, Blitz argues with Robo Fizz: "Bitch, I make more money killing people than you do being a cheap ass robo ripoff of an OVERRATED, SELL-OUT JESTER!!"

Again, Blitz is crafting his language to fuck this robot in a way that it's all pain and no pleasure! First off, he's comparing money and, with Robo Fizz being in Greed and owned by Mammon, it's reasonable to think he might be sensitive to that. Plus, Blitz calls him a cheap ass ripoff, saying that Robo Fizz is nothing but a copy—and not even a good one at that.

Then he gets all heated in the last part, likely directing it more to the real Fizz than Robo Fizz, but this isn't a Blitzfizz essay, so I will refrain from that for now.

But honestly! The way Blitz curses very much reminds me of another character in another piece of media with such creative insults!

Karkat from Homestuck

They're both very creative with their language and can't just say "Fuck you!" They have to say more. And even here, they're different. Karkat crafts his like poetry trying to be as vulgar as he can and cramming in language until the swear jar explodes. While with Blitz, though we know he curses a lot, less is more! He focuses more on the traits of the person he's insulting!

Let's move on to another character—Moxxie!

In The Harvest Moon Festival, when Moxxie finds the angelic gun, this happens:

Moxxie: Oh my crumbs!...How-how in the fuck did he get one of these?

Striker: Why don't you ask me, little dude?

Moxxie: Shit! Why do you have this...M-Mister?

Moxxie is soooooo different when it comes to his language. Most of the time, he uses safer replacements for them (which I still consider language in how they're used, but language you can use around kids :D). He says "Oh my crumbs!" or he might go "Heavens!" But he still uses the big boys too—going "How the fuck?" as he was genuinely confused and flabbergasted that Striker had such a weapon. Then, when Striker was revealed to be behind him, Moxxie gets spooked and goes "Shit!"

Moxxie isn't a crafter when it comes to his language. It's purely for surprise, frustration, anger, strong emotions rather than hitting where it hurts. The only time he curses in the pilot is when he goes: "ARE YOU FUCKING TAPING US RIGHT NOW?" because he's that shocked and pissed that Blitz is interrupting them on such an intimate moment. Language is less of an art with Moxxie and more of a way to quickly express himself when he's got them negative feelings.

Now my personal fave: Charlie~

In the pilot, when she's deciding to accept Alastor's help for the hotel, she says: "So, Al, you're sketchy as fuck and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke. But I don't!"

*deep breath* god I love her so much

Charlie's a fucking princess, okay? A princess of HELL. She's nice and sweet and tries to do right by everyone, but she knows how to lay down the fucking law. She tells Al straight up that she doesn't trust him, but she doesn't mind him helping as long as he stays in his lane. And you can tell she's serious because she's cursing. Throughout the pilot, she only uses language when she feels like she absolutely has to: To put Katie Killjoy in her place ("How's it feel that I got your pen, bitch?"), to quote her dad ("You don't take shit from other demons!") and here! She generally tries to be careful with her words and express herself in other ways, but also knows that sometimes, there's only one thing a demon will actually listen to. She's not afraid to drop a well placed F-bomb if needed.

Kinda similar to David from Camp Camp!

David is a camp counselor who's a goody two shoes, super positive, sweetheart who just once to do right and have the kids love camp as much as he did! Except most of the kids hate it, especially the main character Max, and don't understand his positivity. Until, in the season one finale, when David finally tells him why he does it: "Because some fucking has to."

This is (as far as I'm aware) the only time David curses, so the fact that he's willing to not only curse but also do it in front of a ten-year-old tells you that he's 100% serious.

This, folks, is what we call a precision F-word—one of my fave kinds of F-words :)

When you're so used to someone talking and not cursing, and then you finally hear them go "Fuck", you're first thought is to be like "Oh shit, they're serious!"

Charlie doesn't do this quite to the same extent as David, but she curses WAAAAAAAAAAY less than, like, 99% of the Hellaverse characters, leading to when she does really having more of a punch.

I could go on! I could go into how Millie and Loona use their language! How Verosika insults! The whole scene with Angel Dust and his...customer(?) where the guy calls Angel a slut and Angel's like "Oh, honey, you can do better than that"

But we'd be here forever and I haven't eaten today :)

Overall moral of the story: Just because characters use curse words and slurs doesn't mean they're talking the same! Just like with all other art, words are a tool and they way you use it tells you a ton about someone's character, and this is especially true for curse words.

#long post #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #analysis #essay #hey an ask #not art #would yall believe me if i said i didn't mean to go into this much detail? www;#i meant to just grab some quotes and point out their differences #but i had to go and get secondary sources and everything #because being normal is overrated right?#:)

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sealegsagain · 6 months ago

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Epiphany in the bath

This might be the first time I've productively overthought something in years. No kidding. I'm getting somewhere. Perhaps

I'm gonna try to jot it down here before it escapes me. It all started coming together in my mind this morning it in the bathtub on little sleep.

(I also have been feeling pretty creative, which might feel like a slight mania, but I want to clutch onto it for dear life, because it's refreshing)

Word Salad:

Their rules are different.

I can't conceptualize it facing it head on with sincerity, or at least with my usual approach. That's what I've BEEN doing. No no, I needed fresh eyes. I say this again but thank god for my archives.

So, here are a few of the, I suppose, "rules" I see:

Rule: Internal Consistency is #1

Rule: . Landing a zinger or being internally stylistically consistent is more important than trying to give of yourself in an attempt to meet the other party halfway (sometimes). Arguments are a sort of fuel (remember this is NOT my ruleset)

If you don't get it, you don't get it. Fucker isn't going to explain.

Is it funny, witty, toothsome to the author? THIS is Rule 1.

They wish to leave a mark on the page, a stamp they are proud of. A statement with a flourish. Fuck the world if no one understands etc. Rude as fuck, but that's the ruleset. It's an Andy Kaufman, Cheshire Cat type of thing. I arrived at it by getting into the text last night I can see how others would be drawn in. - My OWN penchant for wordplay (which I'm proud of) is some sort of asset I really haven't given myself enough credit for. I can engage with it. I can speak cheshire to a degree, more than before, or at least egg them on and realize it is a game. Thank god for my archives. They are GIVING. Oh and, I am an artist btw. I've been really feeling that lately. Figured I'd jot that down here in Liz's box of unhinged ramblings than on social media. Anyway, I'm working on it. The more I read, the more I see. I just need to write this down sooner next time because I can already see my ability to get my arms around the concept fading.

------------

But coming from my sincere approach, I still have questions. Such questions. My number one question: What changed? Was it them? Was it me? Was it the weather? Did I disappoint them? I surely disappointed myself, but I'm beginning to forgive myself, so that's healing. A man with a plan who can dance the Watusi, indeed.

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musecaravan-info · 1 year ago

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Carradoc Ilar Vaughn

"The earth laughs in flowers." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

Basic Information

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Gwilym Lee

AGE: OLD - but looks like late 20s/early 30s

EYES: Deep Blue

HAIR: Soft Brown; usually short and well-kept; Usually have a closely-shaved beard/mustache, as well

HEIGHT: 6'2

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Carr's modern look tends to border on 'hipster.' He wears plaid and sweaters and skinny jeans - usually in neutral/homey colors. He also usually has glasses - his vision's never quite recovered from the attack all those centuries ago.

Personality

You know that meme about all the different cinnamon rolls? He is definitely 'looks like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill you.' Not that he would unless you intentionally threatened his clutch. Beyond that, he's open and friendly to just about everyone - even if that friendliness isn't returned. He tries very hard to always believe the best of people, but only to a degree. After all, he has a promise to keep and a clutch to protect. Those things ALWAYS come first for Carr.

Powers & Weaknesses

To avoid repetition, Go Here

Romance

Being the kind of person he is, caring for others comes easily to Carradoc. Romance on its own is easy for him, and he's likely to welcome anyone who displays that kind of interest (if he feels the same.) However, actual intimacy is on an entirely different level. To allow that, it would likely have to be someone he cares about just as much as he cares about his clutch. And that could only happen with trust and time.

Where to Find Him

The most obvious place is his flower shop. However, it's possible he could be found out the the forest gathering various supplies he can't grow himself, etc. Or maybe in a nearby park? Coffee shops are also possible. Dragons like coffee... or this dragon does. ;) Or perhaps any occasion where someone might've ordered flower arrangements - a party/wedding/funeral/etc.

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

In Carradoc’s clan, every dragon had their specific duties. His duty was special -revered- and he didn’t have to earn it or even fight for it. His job was the result of his unique genetic condition - he was born with fully developed and fully functional male and female sex organs. As far as the clan was concerned, it made him (and several other dragons with similar genetics) perfect candidates for guarding over the eggs while they hatched, and raising the younglings after being born.

Carradoc always took his job with the utmost seriousness. He loved looking after the eggs, and helping the younglings to learn about their way of life. But then his clan - the last in Wales - was attacked by humans…humans with magic. When their Queen finally realized they were going to lose, she ordered Carradoc and the other clutch caretakers to rescue as many eggs as they could and flee. He was the only one that survived…and only just barely. He sports a long, jagged scar on his back which starts on his left shoulder and stretches diagonally all the way down to just below his right hip. One of his wings was permanently damaged, and flying causes him immense pain.

Now, in the modern age, Carradoc watches and waits. When will the eggs hatch? He doesn’t know. In the chaos of escape, he paid no attention to such things; he only grabbed what he could carry and fled. He fears that even once the younglings are born, he won’t be able to raise them properly in this technological world. But he knows he has to try. Until then, the dragon runs a quaint floral and herbs shop to pass the time. He tries to keep a low profile - and live a ‘normal’ human life. Typically he is soft spoken and well-mannered, but make no mistake if you so much as hint ay a threat to his eggs, you’ll see a side of him that will leave you quivering in fear. He will do whatever it takes to protect the clutch.

Historical Verses

Carradoc has been around for quite awhile. If you'd like to RP with him in something other than a modern timeline just ask. I'll be happy to plan something out with you.

Fantasy Verses

While Carradoc isn't a fandom OC, I'm happy to put him in a specific fandom if that's where your muse comes from. Just talk to me about it, and we can try to figure out how to make it work.

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Carradoc isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

Liv:

Hocus Pocus Magic Potions (Dresden!Verse)

Sophia:

Not As It Appears (Historical!AU)

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

Carradoc has a massive scar on his back that spans from one shoulder diagonally down to just below his hip on the opposite side. It's a magical wound and the scar always looks (and feels) like it's freshly healed. In his human form he usually hides it and accepts the pain and twinges. In his dragon form, he's lost the ability to fly. He still has his wings, but the act of trying to lift himself up off the ground is excruciating. It's possible the pain he's in will be shown, or thought about, or mentioned in passing in almost any RP. How much you have your muse know/react to that magical injury is entirely up to you. :)

Normally, Carradoc is taking care of 5 unhatched dragon eggs. Our RP doesn't have to revolve around the eggs hatching... but it can if that's a plot that interests you.

If we're writing in a verse where Carradoc is human, he will ALWAYS be a single father of six. Yes. SIX. (One of the eggs has twins inside, which is SUPER rare for dragons.)

I'm not really keen on any plots where any of the eggs get destroyed. That would literally RUIN Carr, and I'm not willing to do that amount of damage to his psyche.

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Carradoc

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Carradoc's Home

Carradoc's Kids

Return To Full Muse List

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mannien · 3 years ago

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Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

(Tom) I got you something today

After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood. She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

(Me) You were in Disneyland????

(Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today

(Me) I’m so jealous rn

(Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!

(Tom) it’s alright

(Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

(Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

(Me) I bet you loved this feeling

(Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

(Tom) Don’t tell anyone

(Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

(Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

“I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

“That’s exciting, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

“That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

“I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

“No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

“Yeah? How was work?”

“Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

“Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

“You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

“I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

“You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

“I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

“I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

“You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

“How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

“Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

“It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

“Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.

****

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24 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 4 years ago

Note

ok anyway build-a-bear employee!jin who meets y/n bc she comes in to make a new friend after a breakup and he teases her for being an adult by herself in the store and after she starts tEARING UP he’s like okok no!!!! and helps her make the cutest lil guy and records a cute message to put inside

➺ pairing; kim seokjin x reader

➺ genre; employee!jin, i brought you to build-a-bear so obviously this is going to be very floofy (sfw!!)

➺ wordcount: 4k

➺ what to expect; “…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?”

➺ note; when i told u guys that jin always gets the cutest drabble requests i wasn’t LYING!!! i have my own bear from build-a-bear named blu (he’s dark blue with white stars!! at the age of eight i was not very good at coming up with creative names) so obviously i had to write something for him and his homies

»»————-　🧸————-««

jin has a love-hate relationship with his job

you would think that working at build-a-bear would be pretty fun - and it can be, sometimes! - but jin can confirm right here right now that it’s not aLL that great

on one hand, he loves the dramatics of build-a-bear because he’s given the chance to act like the whole store is whimsical and that the tiny little heart that he stuffs inside of the bear is full of magic and hope and happiness (he majored in acting in university so his degree is surprisingly very useful here)

but on the other hand… he works at build-a-bear.

this isn’t where he thought he’d be!!! not at all!!!

he’s basically almost thirty and he works at a frickin build-a-bear

this wasn’t part of his plan!!!

his plan was to graduate from university, get famous from acting in a small commercial because of his devilishly handsome face, and then immediately get signed onto some fancy hollywood acting deal and become internationally known

but, no!

he graduated from university, didn’t get any roles in any small commercials, and had to find a way to make money so had no choice but to find work at his local mall

and to make things worse, his boss is literally five years younger than him

he has this bratty little twenty-two year old constantly up his ass and he haTES it

“you forgot the whipped cream on my frappuccino.” jungkook looks up at jin from where he’s sitting behind the counter before raising his drink, “am i blind or are you just bad at listening to instructions? where is the whipped cream, seokjin? WHERE?”

jin clenches his jaw before leaning forward, “they were busy, i guess they just forgot. and i’m not your slave. i only got you that drink so you’d give me a day off tomorrow.”

“well, since there’s no whipped cream on it, you don’t get a day off.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging

“wha-“ jin resists the urge to reach down and wrap his hands around jungkook’s neck, “are you kidding me right now?? i spent forty-five minutes out of my fifty minute lunch break lining up at starbucks to get that for you! forty-five minutes!!!”

“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook hums as he kicks his legs up onto the counter and leans back against his chair, “now get back to work. and remember to smile! after all, build-a-bear is where best friends are made-“

“the new slogan is ‘the most fun you’ll ever make’.” jin raises a brow, “you don’t even know our slogan! how did you become the manager?”

jungkook takes a slow sip of his drink while maintaining direct eye contact with jin

sChLuuUuRrRRRr

jesus christ

his life sucks

jin rolls his eyes before turning on his heel and heading back to the main area of the shop

today’s saturday, so the store is a little busier than it usually is - which is great, because jin works off commission and he thinks he’s pretty good at selling teddy bears

on his best day he managed to sell thirty-eight bears in one day

he also convinced most of the kids that their brand new furry friends needed new clothes and a personalised recorded message in place of the usual little red cloth heart

he doesn’t like looking at the parents whenever he’s egging their kids on to buy even more things because they always look at him like they’re going to kill him

anyways

he could’ve ordered like forty frappuccino’s from the money he made on that day

before he left for lunch today he sold eight which really isn’t that impressive

but, to be fair, the mall usually gets busy after lunch, so now is the prime time to make some sales

jin lets out a breath as he scans the store for any newcomers or anyone who’s noT already being bombarded by his co-workers

he can’t help but snicker to himself when he notices yoongi at the stuffing station conducting a heart ceremony

“-and now you can go ahead and give your heart a little kiss-“

he looks up for a split second and jin takes the chance to blows a sweet little kiss at him

he snorts to himself when yoongi’s eye twitches

yoongi hates giving heart ceremonies but he’s actually pretty good at it!

he’s good with children whether he wants to admit it or not

alright, enough making fun of yoongi >:-)

time to hunt down a new customer…

jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he walks around the store slowly

ooh, a little boy and his family just walked i- aaand they’ve been swept up by jimin

okay, no problem!

how about those twin gir- nope, too late, taehyung’s approaching them

damn

that would’ve been a good sale, too

it’s fine

he’ll get someone!

oh, wow

build-a-bear has really upped their game since the last time you were here

to be fair, the last time you were here was like more than ten years ago, so you’d hope that they make some changes to the store

…are those star wars themed teddy bears??

that is most definitely a princess leia teddy bear

and she even gets her own little light sabre!

wow

this is a whole new world

“excuse me, sorry…” you manoeuvre your way through the crowd as you continue looking through your options

is it weird that you’re in here by yourself?

the thought of trailing behind a random child in order to blend in with everyone else crosses your mind for a split second

although… a grown woman creeping behind a child they don’t know probably isn’t going to sound good to the judge when you’re standing in court, so maybe you shouldn’t do that

okay

you know what

it’s fine

it’s totally fine that you’re in here by yourself!

stuffed plushies are for people of all ages!!

it’s not just a kiddie thing

you’re FINE

and you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be in here

the only reason why you’re even in here is because…

well, the short and sweet version is that you got dumped two weeks ago.

which means that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for the last fourteen days

which means your bedroom was starting to smell a little ripe so you thought it’d be good to air out the place and give your poor bed a break

(also, please, for the love of god, remember to wash your sheets when you get back home later today.)

anyways

you thought that a trip to the mall for some retail therapy would make you feel better!

so far you’ve only been the food court but you helped yourself to a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a vanilla milkshake

food always makes you feel better

you could honestly go for another round of onion rings right now

there’s nothing quite like the pain of having your heart broken nudge you towards the direction of binge-eating the pain away, is there?

you were about to head into a victoria’s secret to splurge on pretty panties (that no one but yourself will be seeing for a long time) but this build-a-bear caught your eye

a cuddle buddy you could ugly-cry into for the simple price of $35?

obviOUSLY you had to come in

the only issue now is that there are way too many options to choose from

who do you want to take home??

pawlette the bunny?

toothless from how to train your dragon?

you could even take pikachu home if you wanted to

“timeless teddy…” you mutter to yourself as you dig out a teddy bear skin (also, it’s very unsettling that they’re called ‘skins’. like, you know that’s what they technically are, but the phrase ‘i’ve picked out my skin!’ just makes your skin crawl.)

you lean forward a little to read the label on the wall

teddy bears are a timeless way to share love with every hug! timeless teddy is a classic teddy bear with shaggy brown fur and an adorable smile. personalize this classic teddy bear with outfits, sounds and accessories for a huggable gift they'll cherish forever!

perfect!

a classic teddy bear sounds perfect

there’s nothing wrong with going back to basics

also, you’re assuming the ‘they’ll’ they’re referring to here is a child

…

you are doing this

you will buy this teddy bear!

your other option was to go and adopt a cat from the shelter but you can barely take care of yourself right now so that wouldn’t be a good idea

“hello!” you jump three feet into the air when you’re suddenly being greeted by one of the bright-eyed workers, “can i help you find anything?”

you turn around quickly while clutching your teddy’s skin (gag) to your chest with wide eyes, “h-hello!”

hello indeed

you feel your heart drop a little when you realise that you probably look disgusting right now

you weren’t expecting to bump into a veRY attractive super handsome boy today!!!

very attractive super handsome boy with sweet brown eyes and soft-looking hair and the poutiest lips you think you’ve ever seen in your entire life-

thank god you decided to wear the sweatshirt that doesn’t have any stains on it, right?

the one thing you remember from your previous build a bear experience (once again, 10+ years ago) is that the workers here are usually overly perky sixteen year old girls

this guy is not an overly perky sixteen year old girl

well

maybe he’s the perky part

but everything else??

wowie

he smiles brightly at you before tilting his head, “hello. i’m jin!” he points at his name tag, “i’d love to help you out today. were you looking for anything in particular?”

“hi! hello, jin. i’m, um, i’m y/n. i was, uh-“ you clear your throat, “i was actually just browsing, so…”

“oh, perfect!” jin claps his hands together, “let me tell you all about our collections. there’s the summer fun collection, the rainbow friends, the promise pets, the heartables, the classic build-a-bear collection-“

yeah okay

he’s definitely nailed the perky part of the job

“-DC comics, dr. suess, marvel, my little pony, how to train your drag-“

“you know, i-“ you smile sheepishly after interrupting jin, “thank you so much, but i’ve actually already made my decision, if that’s alright.” you hold your teddy’s limp, hollow carcass up before pressing your lips together

“of course that’s alright!” jin takes the skin from you before shrugging lightly, “i figured i’d just let you know of all the other options in case your younger sibling wanted something more extravagant than just our timeless teddy. follow me to the sound station!”

you don’t get a chance to say anything before jin spins around swiftly to head to the back of the store

he thinks this bear is for your younger sibling

okay, you can work with that!

you can pretend like you’re in here for your non-existent younger sibling and certainly not for yourself

“you can choose a pre-made sound from here,” jin gestures to the bins of plastic hearts (there’s a sound option for an ‘into the unknown’ snippet from frozen 2 which is insane), “or we can go ahead and record a personalised message. what’s your sibling’s name?”

you look up at him immediately

“wha- um, why… why do you need to know my sibling’s name?”

“oh! i was just asking so i could give you an example.” jin hums as he tosses the skin over his shoulder and places his hands on his hips, “like, you could say, hey there… sibling’s name, it’s me, your big sister! i love you! or something like that.”

“ah, right!” you nod to yourself, “that makes sense! my sibling’s name is totally normal information that i have no problem giving to you.”

jin raises a brow when he notices you continuing to ramble about how your sibling’s name is something that you will be telling him soon because you definitely know the name of your younger sibling whomst’ve this bear is for

you’re cute but you’re a little odd

“-my younger sibling’s name is… paulette!” you catch a glimpse of a pink pawlette bunny being stuffed before looking back over at jin, “yep. that’s her name. sweet, sweet paulette. sweet little angel.”

“hey, our iconic bunny is named pawlette!” jin beams, “wouldn’t you want to get paulette her own pawlette? instead of a bear?”

the smile immediately drops from your face

oh god

you’ve never been very good at lying

one time in middle school when you wanted to get out of PE you told the teacher that you were in pain and that’s why you couldn’t do anything on that day

and when he asked you what hurt, all you said was ‘…bleeding out of my butt?’

you don’t even know why you said that!!

you could’ve told him you had a headache or something but nO

you told your teacher your asshole was BLEEDING and that’s why you couldn’t participate in baseball

so yeah

lying has never been your forte

but you don’t want pawlette!!

you want this bear!!!

although, it would make sense to get paulette her own pawlette because that’d be an adorable coincidence…

what are you-

what are you even sAYING

PAULETTE DOES NOT EXIST

“okay, you got me!” you raise your hands in defence and jin’s eyes widen in surprise, “paulette isn’t a real person. i don’t have a younger sibling. i’m in here for me. the bear is for me. the timeless teddy is mine.”

“oh…!” jin purses his lips before nodding slowly, “alright! totally get it. the bear is for you.”

why has everyone he’s ever been attracted to turned out to be a little cuckoo?

the expected demographic of build-a-bear are children aged 3-10 (a child aged below three isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because they don’t really do anything but sit there and a child aged over ten isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because… they don’t really do anything but sit there.)

and you… well, unless you’ve experienced some kind of insane growth spurt, you certainly don’t look like someone aged 3-10 years old

“phew! it feels good getting that off my chest.” you breathe out as you lean over and place your hands on your knees, “there was a lot of pressure there to keep lying to you but-“

“how, um, how old are you, by the way?”

jin doesn’t mean to sound like a judgy bitch

he’s just genuinely curious as to why a 21-23 year old would willingly go into a physical build-a-bear store to buy themselves a stuffed plushie

you could’ve purchased one off the online website

also, aren’t there better things to spend your money on?

like… literally anything besides a stuffed plushie??

“turning twenty-two soon!” you get back up onto your feet, “why do you ask?”

“…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?” jin snorts before raising a brow, “i mean, really? didn’t you graduate this year?”

“ah, well…” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck as you feel the tips of your ears beginning to heat up, “i mean, yeah, but like…”

“i’m not judging! some people go on grad trips to party and get wasted after they graduate, and other people go to the mall to build themselves a $35 teddy bear-“ jin laughs to himself before turning around to plop the skin down on little counter attached to the stuffing machine, “anyways, were you thinking about choosing a sound or recording something?”

he spins back around and his eyes widen when he notices that your eyes have gotten red and are starting to water

uh oh

what’s going on?

what’s happening??

are you…

are you crying??

why are you crying??

he was totally kidding!!!

that wasn’t supposed to be mean!!

that was supposed to be playful banter!!!

“oh- oh, god no- wait-“ jin immediately walks over so that he’s standing in front of you and jungkook won’T be able to see that he just upset a customer, “don’t cry!! i was kidding!! i have, like, ten plushies on my bed! i’m twenty-seven and i work at a build-a-bear, if anything, i should be the one crying-”

“i just-“ you reach up to wipe at your eyes as you begin to blubber, “my boyfriend of one year b-broke up with me two weeks ago and i- i just th-thought that a teddy bear would make good company because god knows i’m not in the right mental state to be taking care of a real animal-!”

jin winces when you let out a particularly loud sob and he quickly drags you over so that the two of you are behind the stuffing machine and out of sighT from everyone

crap

he doesn’t even have any tissues on him!!!!

maybe he can pull some fluff out from the machine and you can dab at your tears with that

actually, the cotton might stick to your cheeks if you try wiping your tears away with a fistful of stuffing, so maybe not

“i-i know it’s stupid and humiliating for a grown-up to be in here buying a stupid teddy bear for herself but there’s so much in my life that’s just out of my control right now a-and making this teddy bear seemed like the only thing i could control and i just-“

“y-yes, of course!” jin pulls you into a tight hug (your sobbing is getting a little loud and people are starting to notice so this is the only way he can think to muffle your crying) and strokes the back of your head comfortingly, “i’m so sorry, i had no idea! that makes total sense, of course you can get this teddy bear for yourself…”

he continues to hold you until your sobs reduce to little hiccups and gives a warning look when yoongi mouths whether or not they should call mall security on your ass

when you pull away your eyes are a little puffy and the tip of your nose is red

if jungkook asks, maybe jin can get away with saying that your allergies acted up in the middle of the store

you don’t look like that because he made you burst into tears

not at all!!

“how about we… record a special message for your new friend?” jin digs through the tub to pull out an electronic heart

“i-“ you hiccup, “i don’t really h-have anything i want to say…”

jin purses his lips in thought

stuffing the bear with a heartbeat heart seems way too basic

this is an important bear!

ah!

“why don’t you let me take care of it, okay?” he reaches over and rubs your shoulder gently, “you wait here and i’ll take care of everything. for his stuffing, would you like a soft cuddle bear or a plump one?”

your bottom lip starts to quiver again and you let out a light laugh, “a soft cuddle bear sounds really sweet.”

“then a soft cuddle bear it is.”

“and this is for you.” jin hands you the box over the counter and you take it from him with a grin, “thank you for your purchase! and… sorry about making you cry-“

“oh, god no-“ you snort, “i’m sorry for bursting into tears and loading all of that on you-“

“it’s totally fine!” jin shakes his head, “you’re definitely not the first person to start crying in a build-a-bear, so there’s absolutely nothing to feel bad about.”

“right! right, of course.” you nod and press your lips together, “anyways, thanks for helping me out today, jin.”

“of course! it was a pleasure.” jin clears his throat

it’s pretty clear that the two of you want to continue talking to each other, but…

jin doesn’t usually practice his flirting skills when he’s at build-a-bear, so pardon him for being a little rusty

“so… see you around!” you chirp, “i’m just gonna-“

“wait, uh-“ jin wipes his hands down on the back of his pants, “i… i don’t know if maybe this is a little too soon for you or… and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but… maybe i can treat you to an apology corndog or something sometime? i don’t know. this mall doesn’t really offer fine dining, so a corndog is really all i can-“

“yeah, i would love that!” you nod enthusiastically, “an apology corndog with you sounds great. i mean, a regular corndog would be fine too, but- d-do you… want my number?”

also

this isn’t you rebounding or anything

this is the first time in two weeks where your mind hasn’t been clouded with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend

this is the first time in two weeks that you’re actually happy

jin seems genuinely sweet and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him :-))

also you’re glad that hE was the one who asked

because if you were the one who asked, it’d probably make you look that much more pathetic

and you’ve already made a fool of yourself once today!!

you sigh happily as you slam the car door shut

you’re about to shove the key into the ignition when suddenly you remember that your bear has a personalised message inside of him

“oh, right!” you reach over to open up the cardboard house that he’s been shoVed into

!!!

you wonder what soundbyte jin picked out for you!!!

you pull him out and smile fondly at the sight of his chubby arms dangling over your hands

cute :-))

this was money well spent for sure

okay, now how do you activate the sound…

there’s a bit of squeezing and poking but you manage to find the little heart inside of him

you perk up when you hear a muffled crackle

“hi, y/n! it’s me, your furry friend… uh… jin bear! if you’re listening to this, it probably means you’re super sad… cry into my stomach to muffle the sound of your violent sobs! …oh, god, probably shouldn’t have said that- anyways, um, i hope you feel better soon! and remember to give me plenty of cuddles - i promise it’ll make you feel better!”

that was actually a pretty good message

(you hope jin texts u soon)

“okay, jin bear.” you murmur quietly as you buckle him into the passenger seat, “time to take you home.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

356 notes · View notes

ivy-min · 3 years ago

Text

a snapshot into ivy’s life

a/n: so this is a little outside the realm of what I typically do for practice challenges, but I needed something creative to motivate me into doing some writing stuff. please enjoy the very extra edits and bits in between. the pictures in each edit are some that I imagined either her taking, someone in her family, or just something that fit her life altogether. I have elaborate backgrounds for each image in my head but ofc I will not burden you all with that. an easy 1.9k

also, there are definitely some Korean words I wanted to use and researched but was afraid of doing the culture a disservice. however, it is very prominent in her life! and if I had a more reliable source than the internet I would include more terms but I do not, unfortunately. doing my best to learn. ANYWHO here is ivy!!

「 the min sisters at large 」

Looking back, Ivy isn’t sure she could say her childhood was idyllic. There was love and family and creating new worlds with Kennedy, but there were heartaches too. Watching struggle of her father as he built Min Industries from the ground up in Illéa. Witnessing her mother battle against the harshness of her grandparents (though in particular her grandfather). Pleading with each one of them to stay just a little bit longer at bedtime instead of going back to work.

She understood why they left. But it got harder to watch them go each time.

She was well taken care of, given the best of education and opportunities. Swim lessons at two years old, horseback riding lessons at seven. While Ivy stood steadfast at her parent’s side, Kennedy was always the one to pull away. Ivy wanted to make her family proud. Her little sister cared more for finding life away from pesky lessons and the family’s reputation. She believed there was more to discover beyond the walls their parents had created. “Don’t be such a suck up! You really think all this is going to matter in the end?” Kennedy had asked her once. Ivy didn’t have an answer. Not when she yearned to be a part of both sides of the Min coin. Parents or Kennedy. Parents or Kennedy. She wondered if there would be a day when she would have to choose.

Nevertheless, Ivy loved Kennedy and Kennedy loved Ivy. Different in motives but similar at heart, they never strayed too far from one another. If there was one defining feature of Ivy’s childhood, it was her spirited little sister.

↳ exposition

「 the shoes of parents & grandparents to fill 」

Seo-jun Min and Ha-eun Yoo had nothing to offer one another when they first met. Ha-eun was a quiet, demure oncology nurse working at a small hospital in Seoul. Seo-jun had just graduated from university loaded with student debt and a degree in business he had no clue what to do with. When they found each other, suddenly they had everything to offer. Life moved quickly then. After only seven months of quaint dates between Ha-eun’s long shifts and Seo-jun’s failed business ventures, they eloped. A year later, they had a son. Jae-sung. Another two years passed and they were blessed with a daughter whom they named after the lilies that bloomed outside their home. Nari.

At three years old, Leukemia was all that was left of their daughter. She passed in her sleep, cradled in her father’s arms.

In their path to healing, Seo-jun and Ha-eun packed up their son and moved to Illéa where opportunity and a fresh start called to them. Together, they knew what they could devote their lives to: a medical research company dedicated to provide medical care to all in need and to find a cure for pediatric diseases. By the time Jae-sung was 18 years old, he knew that his legacy was to carry on his parent’s dream of avenging Nari’s short life. He honored that legacy.

Then he met Kathleen.

Kathleen Adair was the most intelligent, strong-willed woman he had ever met. He trailed after her their freshman year at Brown until she finally relented and allowed him only one meal. Just one. “Then it’s going to be the best meal of your entire life,” he declared rather confidently. He didn’t know she had watched him as often as he watched her. The meal was terrible, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Alright, Jae.” The nickname only she had ever managed to pull off. “I’m yours.”

His parents vehemently protested. “She’s not suitable. She doesn’t understand what it takes to be a part of this family.” He knew what they really meant. She’s not Korean. He thought small mindedness had been left behind after the last war, but he understood them too. Still. Nothing was going to stop them from marrying as soon as they graduated.

At 25, Jae-sung was pronounced CEO of Min Industries. At 25, Kathleen was announced as the youngest graduate professor of biomedical sciences in the history of the University of Allens. They liked to compete with one another.

Their daughters became their lives. They also became the lives of their grandparents. Though it was never said aloud, Ha-eun and Seo-jun could see Nari in the softness of Ivy’s smile and in the light of Kennedy’s eyes. Respecting their family’s traditions and honoring the legacy of the work put into the family’s company was often emphasized. Legacy. Kennedy was smothered by it. Ivy was enriched by it.

↳ conflict & rising action

「 an energy unmatched 」

Death was always unexpected, always tragic. One person could have the breath stolen from their lungs, yet it was the people left behind that sank under the weight of their grief. That ached for years and years to come.

If Ivy could describe the year she turned 19, it would be with one word: grey. The grey of the clouds that taunted the guests of Kennedy’s funeral with rain that never came. The grey pallor of her mother’s expression just before she fainted after barely eating for a week. The disappearance of Ivy’s best friend had shaken her spirit in a way she never thought was possible. Were daughters destined for such an untimely end in her family? It felt like it. Nari and Kennedy. The grey of their portraits displayed on the mantle above the fireplace.

Ivy would sit in front of that picture for too long, furious at how her parents had chosen to memorialize the life of their second daughter. Kennedy was light. Yellow and orange and pink, fiery and beautiful. How could she have been reduced to nothing but a dull, humiliating grey? How could she be... nothing?

In a fit of emotion blurred by tears, Ivy snatched the picture and threw it to the floor. Pieces of glass flew everywhere and the portrait lay folded under what remained of the black frame. Seconds later, Ivy was on her knees trying to gather the broken fragments. Smoothing away any wrinkles on her sister’s face and ignoring the blood that seeped from where the glass had begun to cut her legs.

When she was found crying, bleeding, clutching the picture to her chest, Ivy was rushed to the hospital to have 12 stitches placed on her knees and shins. Her grandparents blamed her parents, her parents blamed her grandparents. “Why weren’t you with her?” “Why do we need to be together every second of the day?” “Because daughters need their mothers!” Amidst the arguing and cries of her family in her small hospital room, Ivy stayed quiet. She knew what they were really blaming each other for anyway.

Ivy never again lost herself the way she did that miserable afternoon. She didn’t want to be another reason that made her family yell the way they did. Instead, she found different pictures of Kennedy to keep with her and around her home.

Pictures that helped everyone remember Kennedy’s unmatched energy in vivid, beautiful color.

↳ climax

「 vassar & beyond 」

In August, the eldest Min sister was gone to school. In November, the youngest Min sister was gone forever. Not an ideal start to an undergraduate career. Instead of letting Kennedy’s death hinder her education, Ivy buried herself in her courses. A distraction from horribly sleepless nights and not a friend in sight. At the start of sophomore year, Ivy’s roommate Alba took one look at her and declared her hers. With a new friend in tow, Ivy found people exactly when she needed them. They brought a part of her back to life.

Alba. Leo. Wren. Dimitri.

Though Ivy was strongly encouraged by her parents to choose the major of Science, Technology, and Society, she found that she enjoyed her studies. Learning about the effects of global pandemics, health inequalities, or bioethics opened up her world to ideas she’d never considered. (So did her film minor, but even then she was too afraid to consider growing that passion into something more concrete.) Alba had been skeptical of Ivy’s predicament. “Your parents can’t force you to work for them. You’re an adult.” Perhaps not, but losing another daughter was inconceivable. Not when Kennedy almost broke her family apart.

Approximately one week after celebrating her graduation, Ivy began her prompt employment as a junior associate within her father’s team of business heads. The whispers of nepotism behind her back never bothered her, comforted by the knowledge that her takeover of the corporation wouldn’t take place for years to come.

By July, those hopes were squashed by Jae-sung’s proclamation that within the month, she would be announced as the next head of Min Industries. Interviews were organized, contracts were drafted, all faster than Ivy could come to terms with. Set to take the mantle by the time she was 24.

One year. One year until she was thrust into a world she felt she had no business being a part of. She was deeply frightened of the beyond and frantically searched for any way out.

July 27. The announcement of King Raphael’s Selection.

↳ falling action

「 a wayward path forward 」

Running away from family was new for Ivy. That had always been Kennedy’s expertise. Ran straight to her grave. Filling out the Selected application was even worse, from laughing with her parents at the absurdity and throwing the envelope away to digging in the trash bin at 2 in the morning. Submitting it during a feigned trip to the library. Even afterwards, she had convinced herself that the likelihood of being chosen was practically inconceivable. Vizzini would’ve been proud.

The leak was the tipping point. The office had been abuzz with the news of King Raphael’s extremely public error, but Ivy was none the wiser until Alba’s incessant video calls forced her into lunch. It took two sentences for Ivy to slam ‘end’ and dive straight into Tweeter. “Did you see? King Doof-ael leaked the Selected names.” If Ivy had stayed on the call, she would’ve discovered that her name was safely tucked away on a slip of paper until that evening’s Report. Instead, she panicked. Her father noticed. The truth was revealed. All before her name was even officially announced.

Screaming in the Min and Adair household hadn’t been heard since Kennedy’s accident. Neither parents or grandparents thought Ivy would be the one to bring it back, drowning out the poor voice of Justin Timberpond once her name had been aired for verbal confirmation. “Why have you chained yourself to such an archaic tradition?!” “You’re bright! Capable of greater things instead of a meaningless throne!” “That man has already proved himself incapable of leading a country if he needs to find a wife this way!” For once, they were a united front. Against her. And for once, she didn’t care that they yelled.

Each day leading up to her sendoff had been a battle. Long talks with her mother that always ended with, “I’m making a different choice. Different does not mean wrong.” Jae-sung pleaded for her to let someone else go, her grandfather all but ignored her. Even Ha-eun came to Ivy with her renowned mandu dumplings and naengmyeon as a scapegoat to discover the real reason as to why her granddaughter had up and unsettled every plan set in motion.

Ivy kept her truth to herself, as she almost always did. She didn’t know what her life would look like a year from now and it thrilled her, despite the pain buried deep in her chest. All that mattered was that she had taken every possibility and turned it into a wayward path forward. Forward.

↳ resolution rising action

#caught in writing #oc8 #practice challenge #((i am capable of making a pun once a year and it is in this fic))#((i proofread but if there's typos or things sound weird don't come for me pls))

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outoftheframework · 5 years ago

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characterization cheat sheet - batfamily girls + additional characters / elements

Some of you wanted to see another one of these posts including the girls, so I thought I’d combine them with a few other points I was thinking about after I posted the first one.

You can read about the batboys here.

Cassandra Cain:

Age: 18-22

Appearance: Cassandra is of asian descent, typically has pale skin, shoulder-to-chin length jet-black hair, and a button nose. She has the body of a dancer, with long legs, a lean middle, and strong arms. Cass is typically wearing black and is drawn with dark, strong features to match.

Personality: Comic Cass is almost on the complete opposite of the spectrum as the one portrayed in Birds of Prey. She is disciplined and seems to work well with teams / under the direction of Batman. She has the potential to grow into herself more as a leader. Cass can be impressionable, especially toward the beginning of her journey and with people she likes/admires, like Batman or Stephanie. Cass is similar to Dick in her capacity to love and her dedication to her found family.

Speech: She grew up training to be a master assassin completely reliant on reading body language, and was never taught to read or speak. Her portrayals range from her being completely illiterate to her having a stronger control of language after spending some time with the batfamily. Her desire to learn and express herself is a hallmark of her personality, and she can sometimes become frustrated. Cass can be expressive through her body and facial features, and in some iterations (mostly fanworks) communicates through sign language.

Additional Attributes: Cass is a good listener and often easy to get along with. She is sometimes caught up with proving her strength/her worth, especially to her biological parents and sometimes Batman. Despite her being illiterate, do not write off Cass as unintelligent; she is on par with the rest of the batfamily. Cass likes to travel and sometimes takes long journeys away from Gotham.

Barbara Gordon:

Age: 25-30

Appearance: Barbara has red/orange hair of varying lengths, often pulled out of her face (with some fly-aways). She wears glasses often while working as Oracle, but I’ve never seen a Batgirl interpretation wearing glasses while in uniform. Her wearing contacts could be a little detail to add to your work. Babs shares some features with the Commissioner (who also wears glasses). She is tall and healthily thin. She’s often dressed in comfortable clothes or business casual attire. As Oracle, she is a wheel-chair user.

Personality: Growing up in Gotham as a police officer’s, and later the Commissioner’s, daughter, Barbara is thick-skinned, outspoken, and can advocate for herself. She holds secrets and lies easily, even to her father whom she loves. As Oracle, Barbara suffers from PTSD, which affects her mood and actions, more so in the beginning of her time with the mantle. After some time coming to terms with her injury and trauma, Barbara delves into her work as Oracle, which is a monumental help to the batfamily. She’s smart and quick-witted, and never misses an opportunity for a pun.

Speech: Barbara grew up with Jim, who definitely has a strong Gotham accent. Her speech is assertive and doesn’t typically stutter or trail off at the end of sentences. At work she speaks very differently than at home or with friends. She has a playful canter to her voice when relaxed and surrounded by trusted companions. Her voice as Oracle is smooth and clear like a radio host, as she is to provide information quickly and accurately. Her voice has a calming effect to the vigilantes out in the field.

Additional Attributes: Babs is the best at calling Dick Grayson out on his bullshit, and he typically cares about her opinion the most. She appreciates friendships but is not reliant on romantic relationships. She is one of the world’s best hackers and computer scientists, with a very high IQ.

Stephanie Brown:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Long blonde hair with bright eyes and pink lips. She has a cute beauty to her and tends to keep herself well-groomed. She often wears purple (her favorite color) and black. Stephanie Brown is one of those characters that artists love to give unrealistic body proportions to. Perhaps because she’s blonde? Whatever the reason, she’s often drawn with like a 10-pack and back-breaking-ly large breasts as a teenager. I implore you not to do this, but I mean, whatever floats your boat. She’s a vigilante but is also a teenager that obeys the laws of human proportions.

Personality: Steph is witty and loud. In fan works she’s often the one to suggest a fast-food run or dare someone to do something wild. Stephanie is a self-starter and dedicated to heroism after growing up with a dad involved in crime who continually abandoned and lied to her. Steph is still young and can get caught up in common teenage angst and gossip. She can make mistakes but stringently takes steps to correct them.

Speech: Stephanie is close to Jason in the degree of her accent, but with a feminine touch and a stronger control of modern slang. Sometimes uses speech fillers as in “um” and “like.” Her voice fluctuates in tone with her emotions. She likes to tease and joke around, and can purposely use incorrect grammar.

Additional Attributes: In her original continuity, Stephanie became pregnant as a young teenager (I want to say around 15 years old). She is mostly firm in her decision to not raise the baby, but some doubts and regrets still appear when she’s emotional. She found a lot of support in Tim during that time, but ultimately the decision was her own and caused her to mature very quickly. Steph’s hero name of “Spoiler” stems from her “spoiling” the plans of villain “Cluemaster,” her father. Stephanie loves waffles.

Additional Elements and Characters:

Kate Kane: I admittedly haven’t read much involving Batwoman, but here’s some basic points.

She is a female foil to Batman as his Bruce’s cousin; she similarly uses her wealth to fight crime in Gotham

She has bright red long hair and very pale skin, with a tall athletic body

Her sexuality is a main theme explored in her narratives

Jim Gordon: One of my favorite reoccurring supporting characters

Jim is of average height with a slightly athletic build due to his position. He wears glasses and often neutral colors like tans and grays.

Jim Gordon without a mustache isn’t Jim Gordon

He has a very accurate moral compass and is adept at following his gut feelings about danger. He is at foremost a detective, which contributes to his relationship to Batman.

Alfred Pennyworth: The man, the myth, the butler

Alfred lived a full and exciting life before working for the Waynes, and is trained in military medical assistance

He can put on a calm and collected appearance to take control of a situation despite his actual feelings

Alfred is loyal to the Wayne family but will not hesitate to reprimand Bruce or the kids

Ace the Batdog or Titus?: The age old question

Titus is directly associated with Damian and his softer side/love for animals

Ace is more so Bruce’s dog, and sometimes even performs clutch actions to help out Batman and co.

Wayne Manor: These walls hold a lot of secrets

The mansion is located just inside the city limits of Gotham, with expansive surrounding land and a long, gated driveway

The manor is secured with the latest security systems to keep both enemies out and sneaky kids in

The layout changes and is up for interpretation, but it’s often described as “stately,” which implies grand and old architecture

The whole mansion is well-kept but Alfred, but some places accumulate dust, especially high bookshelves and little nooks and crannies

Gotham City: Take creative liberties

Gotham varies from a some-what functional city with corruption and violence in the shadows to a complete gothic hell scape where it’s never daytime

These can add realism or an elements of fantasy, respectively

Gotham is a mix of old and new, with modern corporations like Wayne Enterprises mixed with ornate art deco buildings like City Hall

Like real cities, Gotham is a mix of safer, more tourist-y areas and more dangerous areas like the appropriately named “Crime Alley”

Hope this helps! Feel free to add on, and remember to be civil and respect other people’s interpretations :)

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years ago

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If You Just Realize

Part Two: After the Wake

Summary: After the funeral, Y/N returns to Sebastian’s parents’ house with him and his family. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 2075 Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

GIF found via Pinterest search; the link it led to was broken.

For the time being, the decision was made to let Milena choose where she wanted to be — at least until all of the adults involved could get in touch with lawyers in the following week and come to some sort of legal agreement regarding custody of the child. Alice didn’t seem entirely pleased when Milena opted to go home with Georgeta and Anthony, but she accepted it graciously.

“We’re going by Alice’s house to get her things,” Anthony announced, “would you two mind taking her to our place? She seems a little sleepy.”

Y/N was already holding the little girl, who had her head leaned on Y/N’s shoulder and was fighting to keep her eyes open.

“I’ll get you the carseat,” Alice offered.

While Y/N worked on ordering an Uber, Sebastian followed Alice. Milena sniffled; Y/N pressed her cheek to the little girl’s head.

“You doing okay, princess?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Are you sleepy?”

Milena nodded. Y/N squeezed her a little tighter. “Uncle Seb went to get your carseat, then we’re going to take you Bunica’s house, okay?”

The toddler nodded again. Y/N wasn’t so sure she’d make it all that way without falling asleep, but it had been a heavy week for such a young girl. Hopefully a nap would do her good.

“I’ve got the carseat in Mom and Anthony’s car, they’ll take the Uber,” Sebastian informed her. “Want me to take her?”

“It’s okay, I’ve got her. Will you hand me my purse though?” Y/N pointed to a small, black clutch on the table where they had all been seated. Sebastian picked it up, dutifully hanging on to it as he put a hand at the small of her back and led the two girls out to the parking lot.

At the house, Sebastian found one of Anthony’s old t-shirts for Milena to wear while she took her nap. He tucked her into the bed in his old bedroom, putting extra pillows on either side to keep her from rolling out of the bed.

“You’re so good with her,” Y/N smiled when he came back out to the living room. “I see it in person, but some of these pictures … she adores you, Seb.”

He smiled and joined her on the floor by the coffee table where Y/N had sat down with a photo album that had already been open there. He pointed to one picture of Milena and himself, one of his favorites. She had only been about six months old at the time, and was blowing spit bubbles like they were going out of style. In the picture, Sebastian was holding her up in front of him, grinning from ear to ear. Milena was smiling back, bubbles coming from her mouth. Her chubby cheeks were rose-kissed, and her eyes were bright as she looked back at her Uncle.

Y/N chuckled. “Look at that drool! She’s small now, but she looks so tiny in that one.”

“Yeah, she’s always been little. Irina was little, too.” He flipped a couple of pages. “See this one here, of the two of them together? Irina looks like a teen mom. Always with the baby face and short stature.”

He sniffled, feeling that lump rise in his throat again. Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder as the continued to flip silently through the pages and pages of pictures. Towards the end of the album Y/N made to turn the page, but Sebastian stopped her. He pulled a picture of him and Irina from its sleeve. They were both grinning, with watery eyes. Sebastian was hugging Irina, looking the part of a proud older brother if ever there was one.

“She and Connor had already split up when Irina found out she was pregnant. Right before this picture was taken, she had told me she was going to have the baby anyway, she was going to raise it on her own. She finished her nursing degree, made ends meet and then some, and only with a little help from my parents. She did it all on her own. I was so proud of her.”

His voice broke by the time he made it to the last of that sentence and his head fell into his hands. Y/N’s heart broke for him; she moved to her knees so that she could wrap her arms around him and pull his head to lean on her shoulder. She held him as long as he cried, not saying anything, only rocking him a little. Sebastian let go of the picture and held on to her tightly.

When his parents came through the front door, he pulled away and excused himself to the bathroom. Y/N closed the photo album, leaving out the picture that had set Sebastian into tears, and stood to greet the older couple.

“Milena is sleeping in Seb’s old room. He put her in one of Anthony’s shirts and set her up. She was asleep before we got here.” She licked her bottom lip. “He was okay until we were looking at pictures. Maybe I should have shut the book when he came in from putting Milena down …”

Georgeta squeezed Y/N’s arm. “It’s fine, really. He had to let it out sometime.”

“Thank you. As soon as he’s out and I can let him know I’m leaving, I’ll get out of the way and let you all have some family time. But please, call me if you need anything.”

“Of course — and you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. We won’t be doing much, but I’m sure Sebastian would like to have you around longer.”

Y/N was about to answer that she would let Sebastian decide when he returned from the bathroom, his eyes rimmed red and his nose still sniffly. He nudged her with his shoulder.

“Running away already?” he teased.

Georgeta smiled. “You see? I’m going to change, I’ll be back down in a few minutes. Anthony, will you check on the little one, please?”

Sebastian kissed his mother on the cheek and waved at Anthony, then turned back to Y/N. “So, what do you think? Staying or going?”

“I’ll hang out,” Y/N ceded, “as long as you’ll let me go change first. I do love this dress, but if everyone else gets to be comfortable, I want to be comfortable, too. I’m staying at the Waldorf —”

“A hotel? Why’d you get a hotel? You could stay with me. You’re always welcome to stay with me.”

She shrugged, even blushed a little. “I know that, but I didn’t want to be in the way. I didn’t know how much family time you would need and I didn’t want you to have to worry about me coming and going and all that.”

“Hey,” Sebastian said, gently gripping her elbow, “you are family. All right? I won’t hold it against you this time, but next time you’re in the city, you’d better tell me first. Even if I’m not home, you can stay at my place. In fact, remind me while you’re here this time around, I’ll get you a key.”

Y/N nodded. “You’re too much sometimes. I’ll go change and then come back here. Should I pick up some food while I’m out?”

They had to wait for the parents to come back to the living room to answer that question. In the end, it was decided that Chinese would be the way to go for supper — they had eaten at the wake, but by the time Y/N got to the hotel, changed, ordered the food, then picked it up, they would be ready to eat again. Sebastian walked her to the sidewalk to meet her cab, made sure she was tucked safely inside, then went back inside.

He tiptoed quietly into his old room for one of the few changes of clothes he kept around his mother’s house, just because and just in case, and managed to change in the bathroom adjoined to the room, all without waking his niece. As hard as she was sleeping, Sebastian wondered if an earthquake would wake her in that moment.

In the kitchen, his mother was serving his stepfather a hot mug of tea. Sebastian got himself down a mug and made his own, then joined them at the table.

“How were things at Hills?”

Anthony sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Alice and Tim have already contacted a lawyer. Your mother informed them of Irina’s spoken wishes, but I’m not sure they believe it — and their skepticism is understood. When Irina decided to raise the baby on her own, I was all for it, but I encouraged her to get things in writing as soon as possible. She never was the best about listening to her old man.”

“She wasn’t the best about listening to anyone,” Sebastian sighed, blowing on his tea before taking a sip. “I’ll call my lawyer first thing Monday morning. If they already have things moving in the legal department, I want us to catch up as quickly as possible. I know they could take care of Milena as well as any of us, but it’s not — I don’t know. I want her with us.”

Georgeta nodded, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “We all do. We want to hang onto Irina this way. But what’s most important is that we’re honoring her wishes. She didn’t want her with us, son. She wanted Milena with you.”

Sebastian let out a deep breath. He wished desperately that he knew why his sister had so wished for him to take her daughter if something should happen to Irina. He was happy and willing, but it certainly wasn’t going to happen without a fight, it seemed. Rubbing his eyes, he let out a little frustrated groan.

“Okay, so I need to call the lawyer. What else do you think I need to do on my part to make sure this all goes in our — my — favor?”

The lawyer would be able to tell him more, but in the meantime, his parents suggested looking for a place that was a bit more conducive to raising a child and less geared toward living the come-and-go bachelor life. A nanny would be helpful, looking into schools in the area �� except that would depend where he ended up living.

The suggestions and the questions kept coming, so Sebastian decided it was best to write all of this down. He had quite the list going when Y/N returned with Chinese and a small backpack of things. Sebastian shoved the list in his pocket, quickly asked his parents not to say anything about the matter to his friend yet, and hurried to help her carry in the food.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone tonight or not, so I brought a bag,” she told him quietly.

Sebastian smiled and put a hand behind her head, pulling her forward just enough to kiss her hair. “You’re the best, Bright Eyes. Mom and Anthony are in the kitchen, I’ll help you set this stuff down then go wake up Milena.”

“She’s still sleeping?” Y/N asked, surprised.

Sebastian nodded. “She’s has some pretty crazy days recently. Who knows how well she’s been sleeping.”

They took the food bags and cartons to the kitchen where Y/N helped Georgeta and Anthony begin to set things out, get silverware from the drawer and get down enough plates for everyone.

Sebastian peeked into the door of the familiar room and saw that Milena was already laying there with her eyes open. He smiled and went to sit on the edge of the mattress, pushy her sweaty hair away from her face.

“Hey there, little one,” he greeted. “How was your nap?”

“Good,” she yawned.

Sebastian held out his arms; she crawled into his lap, leaning her head against his chest. She yawned again, and her eyes were still a little heavy, so he let her settle there for a minute before standing up and balancing her on his hip.

“We got Chinese food. Are you hungry?”

Milena nodded. “Is she still here?”

“Bunica?”

“No, your friend.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Sebastian provided. “Yes, she’s here. Is that okay?”

Milena nodded again, then asked to be put down. She ran as fast as her little legs would carry her from the hallway to the kitchen. Now that she was fully awake, she couldn’t wait to announce to everyone that she was up from her nap.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen @peace-love-hobbitness @itsallyscorner @mizzzpink @auspiciousharriet @the-murder-strut-murdered-me

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #marvel #fanfiction #sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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hokiboshii · 4 years ago

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let me read your heart

♡ An Obey Me! Self-insert Fanfic feat. Satan ♡

Inspired by Read My Heart. A hurt/comfort for MCs who are tired / pressured by academics and the future.

You’ve always been a quiet person, Satan noticed. But he knew you had a lot to share. You told stories he read before but touched with your special charm. You went all dreamy-eyed and words come spilling out that your tongue stumbles and you laugh at yourself.

But sometimes, you would step back. Smile. Avoid his gaze. And act as if your heart doesn’t ache. You’re right beside him and yet he can’t get a grasp of you.

That’s why when he knocks on your door and hears the panic in your voice as you try to turn him away, he knows. He needs to see you, past the smiles that robbed him of how you actually felt.

“[Name], are you okay?” He asks, gently closing the door behind him. He finds you, curled up on your bed, hiding your face with a pillow.

“Oh, I-” your voice cracks, but you still try to give him an answer. “I’m...fine.”

You hear him shuffle closer and sit on the floor. His breath tickles your arm as he rests his head beside you and you hold your own. You don’t want him to see you like this. You’re the one who held the brothers together, you cannot give in to weakness. You’re able to keep your head high for so long.

The silence between you is suffocating. But then, you feel his fingers tenderly intertwine with yours.

“Please stop hiding from me.” He whispers and every word aches with worry. Guilt weighs heavily on your chest. No, don’t feel bad because of me--

“I’m sorry.” You lift your face from the pillow and look at him.

He sees your eyes, red and filled to the brim with tears. So heartbroken, as if the world has fallen around you and you don’t know where to go.

“It’s okay.” He says, but he knows there are no right words to tell you right now. It’s okay is not enough-- you deserve to feel it, not hear it. But he can’t stand seeing you so miserable. He holds your hand firmly as you keep apologizing.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out through your tears and grip the pillow under you. He wipes them with his free hand but you shake your head. He doesn’t have to dry your tears. It feels like it won’t end.

“I’m so sorry... I’m a mess.”

He smooths his hand over your hair. Sometimes, combing through. Stopping when he wants to wipe your tears away. And not once did he ever let go of the hand he reached out for.

When you’ve calmed down, he helps you sit up and perches himself beside you. “So, may I ask what made you like this?”

“I… don’t know.” You start weakly. “No, I mean…”

He nods, giving you all the time and space you need to rearrange your thoughts. You do and you just let go.

“Before I first came to the Devildom, my time in the human world completely stopped. A pandemic broke out and wrecked my plans after graduation…”

You glance over his side and he’s still waiting for you. He’s still here, listening.

“But then, I’m also relieved. I hated what I’ve been studying. I didn’t want to take the post-graduate exam. But I had to do it, because of all the expectations around me. My life was set in stone. But I…didn’t want to do it... All I wanted was...”

You pause. You never shared what you actually wanted or how you felt. You never thought of it before. Because it feels selfish. It feels pathetic. It feels wrong.

When Satan presses his lips to your knuckles, you realize you’re balling your hands tightly into a fist.

“Go on, you can tell me.” He encourages.

This light push he gives you is all you need and your feelings pour out like a broken dam.

“I wanted to drop out so badly, take writing seriously and live my own life. But I ended up sacrificing so many years, just to graduate.” The tears threaten to fall again but you try to smile through gritted teeth. “Because I’m just ordinary, you know? I can’t pass without trying hard enough. I wasn’t cut out for it, but everyone believed I could do it if I persevered.”

“But as I tried my best, I ended up losing myself… I felt so worn out, I lost the will to write anything. I thought I didn't deserve any leisure so I cut everything out of my life.” You blink through the tears fogging up your vision. No, you’re not done talking yet. You don’t want to cry yet. “So I tried loving what was forced upon me. I really did and completed all semesters. But in the end, I felt nothing. I was not proud. I accomplished nothing. I was just relieved that everything is over. I was finally done...”

“But then, I got enrolled into a review center for the post-graduate exams to pursue a higher degree. Every fiber of my being was screaming. I thought I was done, but why was I back in that damn hell hole?” You wail.

Your words overflow with regret and pain. You never swore before. Satan pulls you into a hug and holds you tight, keeping you from falling apart as you’re wracked with sobs.

“Oh, darling. Yes, you’re done. You worked so hard and I’m proud of you. But not only for what you’ve achieved in the end. But for hanging on for so long. It’s over now, you’re free to do as you’ve always wanted.” He lets you lean on his body as you cry out this heavy feeling in your chest.

“But I even fucked up my own health, just to get through all those years of studying... How can I pursue my own goals? I can’t even write-- I’ve written nothing for a long time.”

His eyes softly gaze down at you and he takes your face in his hands. He pinches your cheeks, granting him an “ow!” from you, and caresses it with his thumbs.

“You continued to love the craft even though it brought you more pain than happiness. You’re the only fool I know who could talk about stories so earnestly. You’re crying right now because it hurts, right? Don’t you think all this pain can mean you’re still fighting? I know you hate feeling like this. You haven’t given up yet. You’re still worthy of holding a pen. No one can take it away from you.”

You whimper, but you still manage to say “I’m not a fool!” between your sobs. Satan chuckles, hands resting on your shoulders.

“To my brothers, you were Lilith. Everyone around you thinks you’re some genius who could fulfill their expectations. You think you’re ordinary. But to me, you’re just my [Name], my little, clumsy, painfully naïve human who I love dearly.”

“Love?” You strained at the word, as if it stabbed you in the chest. “But how can someone like me, who grew up not loving themselves, give love?” You ask, clutching his shirt. He smiles down at you.

“You don’t have to force yourself to like someone you don’t.” He recites.

Those words paint a picture of a certain virtual courtyard, burning in the hues of the sunset, within your memories.

“Now, who was the one who cared and taught me that?”

Both of you knew the answer already. You have nothing left to say. There is nothing left to grieve, to curse or to complain about. There is just you and Satan and this feeling of release.

“Because you can’t love yourself, you’ve always, unconditionally, given your love.” He wipes your face again with his sleeve. You sigh and give in to his touch, feeling weary from crying for who knows how long. He lets you take a moment of solace before pulling you close again.

“So from now, I’ll protect you, even from yourself.” He brings his lips to your hairline.

“I’ll kiss your tears away.” He moves down to press a kiss on your eyebrow.

“I’ll scold you gently when you’re late for the dinner I’ve cooked.” He trails across your cheek.

“I’ll hold you close when you need me and I’ll be angry on your behalf.” And he stops to meet with your lips.

He seals each promise with a kiss so light and yet you feel secure, like it will never be broken. You accept his affection, closing your eyes and draping your arms over his shoulder.

Finally, he’s able to read your heart and you let him write the end of this story with his lips.

End Notes

- Virtual courtyard with sunsets is from Chapter 10-15, where MC told Satan advice about his concerns with Lucifer.

Hoki Notes:

So. I had a lot of emotional baggage. This happened after listening to Read My Heart. The pandemic ruined me but this game saved me from sinking to the bottom. I remember getting on the bus home from my review in another city. I opened this game and I was so happy. Everything I’ve done was not for myself, and it was so liberating.

Some parts may be oddly specific, but I hope you can relate. To all the creative minds, burdened by the pressures of academics and family expectations, with plans ruined by the pandemic, I hope you can stand back up and give yourself more chances to find happiness. Cheers for the future!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #hoki speaks fic #hi i am back with the not a lucifer kissing you fic lmao #obey me read my heart #obey me song fic #?#lol #its almost 2am i wanna go #read my heart

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

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Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts fluff #bts bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #magicshopnet

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itsyourimagines · 4 years ago

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Faithless || knj

Namjoon’s night - 1K words

Exactly 8 minutes and 36 seconds after his last text, Namjoon is pulling up outside the club. It’s just after one am and the whole street is thriving; people lining in their hundreds for a chance of entry into the handful of high end clubs, and Namjoon can feel the bass in his chest already.

He hops from the car, a mask and low-pulled baseball cap covering most of his face, and fends off the valet with a quick ‘I’ll just be a minute’. There’s no chance to question what you’ll do when you see him or what you’ll say. All he knows is that you need him, and he’ll be damned if he lets you down again.

Namjoon strolls straight through the doors, his getup the only invitation the doorman needs. The club is busy, but less than he expected. Large masses of grinding bodies coat the dancefloor, but most of the patrons are tucked away in luxurious VIP booths. Pulling his cap lower, Namjoon fights through the dancers and over to the bar. Each velvet barstool holds a beautiful woman in designer wear, but he spots you immediately. At the very end, pressed into the corner, he recognises the slope of you shoulders. The curve of your back. The tilt to your chin.

“Y/N” his voice is so soft you could have missed it; the visible tension winding through your body shows him you didn’t. He reaches out but you’re turning, and his hand falls back to his side. Your eyes meet his and just... stare. Your face lacks any emotion and he doesn’t think you’re even breathing.

Despite the time you’ve spent together over the last week, it’s like he’s seeing you again for the first time. He can actually see you. You’re just as breathtaking as he remembers. You’ve changed your makeup style, westernised it slightly. Your hair, though still falling half way down your back, is considerably shorter than it had been three years ago. He loved your hair, which is probably why you cut it. Namjoon opens his mouth to say something - anything - but there’s too many words that need to be spoken. Where does he even begin?

The corners of your mouth are dropping now, and your eyes are suddenly blown wide. Seeing him right now, like this, while you’re drunk and vulnerable is more than your heart can bare. As you desperately force back the tears, the emotion is already taking over. Your body heaves as it sobs and the relentless tears come quickly after. There, in the middle of a crowded A-list club, you cry for the life you once had with the man before you. He lets you - then, when you’re choking on your sobs, finally pulls you close and holds you tight.

“Let’s get you home.”

With you still tucked into his chest, Namjoon heads for the door. The night chill makes you shiver and clutch him closer, desperate to absorb his warmth. A foot from the car door, a camera flash punctures your view. You tense, anticipating the slew of flashes that always follow. But none come. The doorman is there, pushing the rogue paparazzo back, and Namjoon is moving again.

He folds you into the passenger seat with the genteel touch you’d once craved. He’s respectful in where his hands wander and as he leans over to buckle you in, you’re enveloped in his scent. It’s the same as it was back then: the cologne you always bought him, and a hint of vanilla. You think of the nights you’d spent together. The nights you’d spent pining for him, then loving him, then hating him. The last three years had been spent building yourself again, after he tore you down with his own hands. You thought you’d done it, you’d fixed yourself. But the last week had shown that you were simply patched up, duct taped back together (and badly). You weren’t whole again, and you never would be.

Namjoon slides into the car and pulls away from the excited crowds and neon lights. He stays silent for the journey, he can hear your soft cries and each sob eats away at him a little more. The journey passes quickly, and by the time he parks outside your home your crying has slowed to heavy breaths.

It takes Namjoon a moment to realise you’ve fallen asleep, but that’s no problem. He’s carried your sleeping body countless times before. He can do it again. And as he fights his way through your door and ascends the staircase, he can’t help but marvel at the perfect fit you are in his arms.

As he’s lowering you down to your bed you let out a soft ‘Joon’. He stills at the nickname, he thought he’d never hear you use it again. When he gathers the courage to look at you, your eyes are half open and your lips parted.

“Yes, baby?”

“Joon.” You whine again, and then you’re leaning up to close the gap. Your lips just barely brush before he’s pulling away and easing you back down into the pillow.

“Oh no, my moonlight. Don’t do anything you’ll regret tomorrow.”

But you’re already asleep, all heavy breaths and fluttering lashes - a vision he’d only dreamed of seeing again. As he stands, he catches sight of a frame on the corner desk. It’s a photo he knows well; he took it. You stand at the edge of a wooden bridge, a small temple building behind you. The pond beneath the bridge is alive with pale pink lotus flowers, and they match your blouse perfectly. Your long hair is slightly blown by a breeze, and a handful of cherry blossoms are caught falling. You’re laughing at something he’d said, something stupid, and your eyes are bright with joy. It was a perfect day. He keeps his own framed copy in his bedside drawer.

“I’m sorry. Oh god, I’m so sorry.” These words are his undoing. Much like you had done earlier, Namjoon sheds his tears for the woman he’d broken. He places a soft, if slightly wet, kiss to your forehead and whispers his apologies into your soft hair.

Then he leaves, hoping that you’ll remember it all in the morning.

Part 14: out out

- Y/N left Korea and her idol life behind for a reason - a big one. Now, three years later, she’s living her best life in LA with her two closest friends and the best fans she could wish for. Until that reason comes crashing back into her life. Will she give in? Or has she truly moved on?

Previous - Masterlist - Next

AN: Its been 5 years and a day since I uploaded written content to this blog... and I’ve done a whole ass creative writing degree since then. So I hope my writing has actually improved 🥴 Also, Y/N where is your autocorrect?

Taglist: @bbyjoonies @agustdpeach @tiddieshakeshownu @ambersaesthetics @igotarmyofarohas

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razanartuk · 3 years ago

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about me tag game thing

i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3

under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around

why did you choose your url?

this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.

i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.

oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.

anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.

one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:

emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier

dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.

horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.

mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.

do you have a queue tag?

no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended

why did you start your blog in the first place?

my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!

why did you choose your header?

in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.

what’s your post with the most notes?

i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.

how many followers do you have?

on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.

how many people do you follow?

i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.

have you made a shitpost?

let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful

do you like tag games?

yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward

do you like ask games?

i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing

do you have a crush on a mutual?

in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.

i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:

#mel.rtf #abt me #tag games

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