#will probably go with chinese chess instead

[nel-world]

hi

So, y’all ever notice how there’s an app for everything these days? I’m talkin’ about everything. You need to find a place to eat? There’s an app. Wanna track your steps? App. Tryna figure out if you got enough gas to get to work? There’s probably an app for that too, like “You’re Gonna Be Late, Bro.”

But the wildest part? The moment you get an app, it’s like a whole new relationship. It’s all good at first—you’re excited, you’re checkin’ it every five minutes like, “What’s new? What’s happenin’?” Then, after a week, it’s blowin’ up your phone like a clingy ex. “Hey, remember me? You haven’t opened me in a while. How about a notification?”

And what’s up with all these permissions? You download an app to play chess, and it’s like, “Can we access your contacts? Can we track your location? Can we read your mind?” Nah, man, I just wanna checkmate, not be checkmated by Big Brother!

But let me tell you, the real drama starts when you gotta delete an app. You’re sittin’ there, lookin’ at your phone like, “Do I really need this? Have I outgrown this app?” It’s like a breakup conversation in your head. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’ve changed. I’ve moved on.”

And some apps don’t wanna go! You hit “delete,” and they’re like, “Are you sure? Are you really sure? How about we send you some updates? We can be better, I promise!” It’s like they’re tryna slide back into your life with that “I miss you” text at 2 AM.

Then there are the apps you download just to feel productive. You ever get one of those habit-tracking apps? You’re like, “Yeah, I’m gonna drink more water, meditate, and finally read that book.” Two days later, you’re ignoring it like a gym membership. Every time you open your phone, it’s just sittin’ there, judgin’ you like, “So… you just gonna skip another day?”

But you know what the worst is? The social media apps. They’re the sneakiest. You download ‘em thinkin’ you’re just gonna check in for a minute. Next thing you know, you’re deep in a rabbit hole, watchin’ videos of people buildin’ tiny houses out of Legos at 3 AM. You’re like, “How did I get here? I just wanted to see what my aunt posted.”

And then they got the nerve to ask you to rate them! “Would you like to leave a review?” Uh, yeah, sure: “This app took my time, my soul, and my sanity. 5 stars.”

But for real, though, apps are like modern-day relationships. Some are great, some are toxic, and some just don’t work out. But no matter what, we keep swipin’, downloadin’, and deletin’, tryin’ to find the one that’s gonna stick.

Here’s to hopin’ we all find our perfect match—an app that doesn’t ask for too much, gives us what we need, and knows when to chill with the notifications.

This is America? I’m fucking in! Big Pimpin’ was the epitome of the American dream and I needed to be part of it. I wanted to be like these larger-than-life American superheroes they called rappers. I wanted to be a pimp like Jay-Z and a gangster like 50 Cent. I made it my life’s goal to live the Big Pimpin’ lifestyle. Whenever I watched BET, I forgot I was a small foreign Chinese boy and I felt like a badass gangsta. I started imitating how the rappers walked and how they talked. I would go up to my classmates and say, “Yo what up, dog. Our geometry teacher is a bitch, homie.” I felt like my identity was being judged based on the other Asians around me instead of my own personality, my inside voice screamed, I listen to Jay-Z, motherfuckers! In high school, thong thong thong thong thong!” This was one of the first songs I heard on American radio. It was catchy as hell, but I had no idea what a thong was. Then when I saw the music video, everything made sense. I couldn’t rap for shit, but I wanted so badly to be part of the glamorous rap game that I’d seen on Rap City. Chris downloaded a bootleg copy of Sony’s ACID Music Studio, a beat-making software, and he started cranking out some sick beats. Then Jeremy, Phil and I would go to Chris’s mom’s apartment and record our raps on his five-dollar computer microphone. Next thing you know, we’d formed a rap group just like N.W.A. Chris’s mom’s apartment and his Dell desktop became our recording studio. We felt like the real deal and we called ourselves Syndakit. The first time I recorded at Chris’s house, he played me a beat he had just made. It sounded like a real track I’d heard on Rap City. I pulled out my notebook and I was ready to write my first rhymes, but I I never got a record deal, but I experienced creative freedom for the first time

[memorydragon]

Me, while writing: Is mahjong too new for mdzs canon? *quick research* Yeah, definitely too new.

Also me: Do I want to add it anyway?

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

��Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Team Tokyo First Years Headcanons

(Ft. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojo & Sukuna)

Gojo created a group chat with all three students to coordinate things. However, he never knows if Megumi reads the texts because he never says anything (he does), and all Yuji does is send memes, so basically that's its only function now.

Yuji and Nobara created a game: try to take a picture of Gojo with his blindfold off. He takes it off frequently, it's just impossible to catch an image of it. Surprisingly, Megumi of all people has gotten the closest. If you squint, you can see the baby blues.

This escalated into "who can take the ugliest picture of someone without them looking", after capturing an image of Yuji standing next to Gojo's desk with almost four chins. Nobara discovered she has many bad angles and Gojo discovered he's photogenic from ALL angles.

Yuji likes to use Nobara's ugly pictures as reaction images and memes. At first, Nobara beat him up whenever he did, but now as long as they don't leave the first-year chat she doesn't care. She'll even supply them if she's feeling silly.

Gojo started a prank war on accident and it shows no sign of stopping. It started because he enjoys Nobara's over the top reactions. When she found the LIVE snake in her bed (oh boy, everyone's soooo lucky she's good with reptiles), she immediately suspected this was Yuji's doing. She pranked him, he got her back, Megumi walked into a prank on accident, he got them back twice over, and now it just won't stop. Gojo was fully prepared to deal with the consequences, but he isn't complaining.

The First Year prank war is pretty well known around the school, and everyone's learned to stay away from anything that looks suspicious.

Gojo uses this to his advantage too; sometimes he'll pull pranks on the first and even second years just to watch them blame each other. He's even gone as far as pranking Principal Yaga hoping that he would blame the kids, but Yaga knows for a fact it's Gojo. He hasn't done anything about it though. This stresses Gojo.

Most of the time, when they eat out, each student pays for their meal. When Gojo's there he pays for all four of them, and if Yuji tries to use the "I don't have any money" excuse when Nobara decides to stop for a coffee, she'll buy him one too. She holds it against him, though.

If his kids are all craving a certain type of food (i.e. Chinese) Gojo will head out and pick it up and they'll all eat as a family.

Nobara proposed once a month they have a "spa" day. Surprisingly, the other two students agreed. She's allowed to give them manicures and pedicures (so long as she doesn't get carried away), trim and treat their hair, exfoliate their faces, and they help her re-dye her hair. Megumi is a good client, while Yuji gets bitched at a lot for squirming while getting his nails clipped and jerking when he gets his eyebrows plucked.

Yuji also proposed they have a movie night every Friday night. If they're busy, they'll move it to Saturday, or have it earlier in the day during the week. Sometimes the second years will join. Gojo is banned because he's basically seen every movie and always spoils the end. Everyone got mad at Yuji's request to use subtitles but gave up arguing with how loud Yuji chews.

They also have game nights, but they lost the pieces to most board games after Nobara threw them out the window, Megumi is the only one who knows how to play chess and Shogi, and Yuji fears the safety of his controllers after Megumi got dangerously close to beating Nobara in Smash. 

Yuji's room is the main hangout joint because of the electronics he owns. Literally, there's a whole ass common/living room for them to use. However, they go to Nobara's room for a spa day, as long as the boys are gone by sundown.

Gojo knows damn good and well his kids don't like each other in that way and would never have sex with each other, but he still feels the need to give them the talk ™. He's literally given each child a free box of condoms just in case. 

Gojo bought each student customized "if lost, please return to Jujutsu Tech" shirts. Yuji doesn't mind wearing his because it's just another hoodie to him, and Nobara doesn't mind hers because it's a crop top and it's cute. Megumi burned his in front of Gojo. 

Nobara takes the boys shopping a lot. Megumi is surprisingly good at picking out clothes that fit Nobara's physique and taste, and Yuji is there to hype her up when she walks out of the dressing room. He also isn't scared to tell her a dress doesn't look good on her, and she respects that.

Sometimes even Sukuna will pop out and give commentary. He gives really mixed signals, sometimes he tells her how she's not much to look at, sometimes he talks about the things he wants to do to that ass because of how good they look in those jeans. This results in Yuji getting slapped, Nobara yelling something like "Shut it, Fang Face!" And people staring at him funny because of it.

She also buys outfits for the boys and occasionally Gojo, because she's tired of hoodies and black. She was just as shocked as the rest when Megumi walked out in his outfit. He only wore it to shut her up, though, and hasn't worn it since.

No matter what they're doing, Yuji is ALWAYS the DJ. He has playlists for almost every occasion (spa day, sparring practice, car rides, game nights, even the times they just chill in the same room on their phones) and the only person that really complains is Sukuna, but only because he hates the Backstreet Boys.

Yuji bursts out in song a lot. No matter what he's doing, he'll just start singing. If they know it, Nobara and Gojo will join in too. Always ends in a giggle fit.

Sometimes Gojo's hand slips and boom! He has 18 dozen cookies instead of 4. He's been known to wrap the cookies up in nice tins and packages and leave them outside the kid's doors.

Gojo has also been known to cook meals for the kids and drop them off. This helps because Megumi is basically the only one who can actually cook. Yuji thinks instant ramen is okay for every meal, and Nobara burns food in a way it's still edible but you don't really want it.

The kids play wrestle, a lot. Yuji was scared to at first because the only one who really wants to fight is Nobara, but he learned quickly she can both take and deliver a punch just fine. She also isn't one of those girls that gets upset if there's an accidental grope, which is cool.

This is how the others discovered Megumi is ticklish. Yuji probably still has the scar and Nobara doesn't dare try to tickle him again.

Yuji fell asleep once and woke up to Sukuna's mouth on his cheek having a full-blown conversation with Nobara while she was reading a magazine. He swears they were gossiping about boys, but as soon as Yuji was awake enough to pay attention, Sukuna noticed and started bullying him. To this day Nobara still thinks she was talking to Yuji the whole time because she never noticed he fell asleep.

Yuji can fall asleep almost anywhere. Nobara draws on his face a lot. He's spent countless nights on Megumi's floor just because he's too lazy to move literally one room over.

Nobara has a habit of walking into the boys' rooms without knocking. Megumi is usually laying in bed on his phone or sitting at his desk, however, she's walked into Yuji doing some weird shit. Not gross shit, just... Concerning shit.

Once she walked in on him crying and didn't know what to do. She just kinda walked in and sat down with him until he stopped, occasionally rubbing his back. They didn't say a word until Yuji made a joke and Nobara continued with why she even came into his room, to begin with.

The three students are surprisingly supportive of each other like that, it's just kinda awkward and passive-aggressive at times. Sometimes they even confide in Gojo, and he takes it seriously, surprisingly.

Gojo has a Tik Tok account. He participates in every challenge, every dance, every trend, and apparently has a huge following. Yuji gets featured in the videos sometimes when he isn't recording, and he's mostly doing the stupid shit Gojo does, like doing backflips on building ledges.

While Tik Tok is Gojo's forte Yuji has done video game commentary on twitch and yt live. Megumi is quite popular on subreddits about urban legends and related folklore, and Nobara helps maintain blogs about current events, but... It's mostly celebrity gossip and new music.

Every Saturday is chore day and no one's allowed to do leisurely activities or leave until they're done. Rooms and hallways have to be vacuumed, swept, mopped, whatever. Gojo checks that the rooms aren't dirty. He doesn't mind clutter, he just hates wrappers and shit being left around. He especially pays attention to the cleanliness of the bathrooms for some reason. Megumi is good about cleaning his room throughout the week, Nobara usually just has clutter on her nightstand and dresser, and Yuji waits until the last minute to clean.

The first years used to do their laundry separately, but Nobara threw a temper tantrum when she witnessed Yuji just throw all of his clothes in the washer at once and simply turn it on. Now normally, she wouldn't help anyone get out of work, but she also likes things being done the right her way, so she does his laundry for him. Megumi got involved somehow and now they throw all of their clothes in the same basket and divide them by darks, colors, whites, and delicates. She refuses to let any of their overly- soiled clothes touch hers, so those usually get their own wash too. Each student folds and puts away their own clothes. 

Most arguments end with rock paper scissors. Pinkie promises are also sacred.

Gojo keeps a sticker board in the classroom. Whenever the kids do something good, they get a star. Whenever they do something bad, one gets taken away. When they get to five stickers they get a prize from the treasure box.

No one has gotten to five stars yet. This is good because there is no treasure box. Gojo is bullshitting everyone.

Yuji likes to steal Megumi's stickers because he thinks Megumi will not notice. He does every time.

Gojo has a stool in the corner of the classroom complete with a horribly cliche dunce cap he calls "the Naughty Corner" for when the kids "act up". Nobara ends up there because she's always on her phone, Megumi mouths off a lot and has days where he doesn't feel like doing work, and poor Yuji ends up in the naughty corner because Sukuna can't behave.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

lovers’ dreams

Summary: “A day fit for a spring dream.” And then he kisses Roshan, and they become lost in each other.

Characters: India (Aditya), China, Iran/Persia (Roshan, genderfluid). Human names used. Indran, Churan, and Indchu for ships!

Notes: 100% distilled surrealism! This was supposed to be a writing exercise that ran away from me rip. There are many footnotes that explain Many things. Enjoy!

also on AO3! (there are bonus thoughts and explanations there for anyone who’s interested or slightly confused 😅. everything necessary for you to understand the story is here too but I ramble about my thoughts going into the piece on AO3 lol)

———

The willow’s drooping branches hide Yao’s face like a beaded curtain, a bride’s sheer red veil. The spring breeze snakes through the tree, and the sound of wedding suona—sorna rings through the silence. A flutter of phoenix wings brushes past their ear, a whisper on the wind. Roshan walks languidly until they are in front of Yao; it takes a minute—it takes a month. Yao’s face is sharp and his eyes glint, like the jade in his belt. But the kiss is soft when they take his lips in theirs, and it tastes of the rose’s tender petals. The clean sweetness of flowers is warm against Roshan’s face and the fragrance of tea drifts into their nostrils. 

Yao pulls away, and Roshan opens their eyes to polished jade thorns sprouting up from the earth around them—crisp green, sharp-tipped; elegant, dangerous. So these are the fruits of our love. It is fitting. They lean to kiss Yao again, and this time, a laugh peals through the air when they part. It is not Roshan’s, and it isn’t Yao’s. But it is clear as spring water and tinkles like a bell, a joyous sound, and it makes Yao smile—a smile that is gentle, calculating; sweet, dangerous. A copper coin hides in the corner of his lips. “A day fit for a spring dream.” And then he kisses Roshan, and they become lost in each other.

When Roshan opens their eyes again, Yao is gone. They are standing in nothingness, a shell of a dream. A liminal plane. A wedding song echoes in the empty space, loud and cheerful, although there are no musicians to be seen playing the dohol, the sorna. Then sprung from the air, a mirror of fate, Aayeneh-ye Bakh, with its customary candelabras flanking it, and with their dots of golden light—miniature suns, sparkling stars. Its face shimmers, clear and gleaming: a pond on a full moon night—and in it, Yao stands, his reflection bright, splendid robes shimmering like gold scales and fine silk. Roshan reaches out a hand, and pulls him into a kiss.

“Welcome back, my dear.”

———

It is sunset, and a chill brushes past Yao’s shoulders and winds through his hair. The sky burns red, and fork tongued flames lick at the sun. A world bathed in fire, on the cusp of night. A lotus pond sits before him, and a figure is at its edge—Aditya, adorned in gold, the perfect figure of a prince. He, a dream of glittering palaces and beady emeralds, bright against the glow of the setting sun, sharp against the bloody sky. He holds a lotus blossom out, and Yao takes it. It is pure, tender in his calloused hands. A drop of blood drips from a petal. He lets it float into the water, and Aditya watches with him as the peach pink petals drop before their eyes—the lotus head balloons, then falls with the weight of seeds; it withers, a shell of its fruit. Divine beauty is short lived—seasons turn with the winds of change.  

Aditya loops an arm around him, bare skin on bare skin, the warmth of the sun hanging around them like a curtain. Their lips meet. The kiss is long, and lingers even after Yao pulls away; it is slightly bitter, but how could it not be? Aditya’s eyes are like black tea, and Yao tastes acrid lily bulbs. The sky has faded into burnt orange, the aftermath of a blaze. Autumn leaves fall from ginkgo trees, golden yellow, bright with memories of the past. Aditya closes his eyes, and Yao watches him sink into a dream.

The scene shifts before his eyes. The lotus pond morphs into a giant chessboard, and they are on opposite sides. Aditya plays white. Cream colored pawns meet chocolate brown knights, and they watch as kings rise and fall, as steady as the spinning of the world. Chariots race and elephants trumpet; the cavalry fight with long swords and bows, and the peasants use polearms, raised fists. Yao meets Aditya’s eyes, warm but gleaming with an ambition that has never gone away. He nods to his neighbor to the west, to his rival, lover, partner, equal. Aditya smiles.

“So we meet again.”

———

It is afternoon, and the sun is warm on his face. Roshan sits on a bench in the courtyard, holding a cup of coffee in one hand, a pomegranate in the other. Aditya nestles into their side, and they give him a feather light cheek kiss, gift him a wisp of air. They hold out the pomegranate, offers it, and Aditya takes a bite. Roshan takes the other half. They watch as the fruit regrows, seeds become jewels, glittering rubies in folds of red fabric. Roshan holds one up to the light with a critical eye. They spread tawny wings, amber eagle eyes alight with the pride of the past present future. A lion and the sun. The wings disappear—a trick of the light, reality fallen away. Then they hold up the cup of coffee.

“For you.” Aditya smiles, and offers a cup of black tea in return.

We have shared many things, and fought over equally many. How will it be in the future? He takes a sip, and falls through the cup.

A cemetery of swords surrounds them, a memory of things gone by. Afternoon sunlight filters through the trees, winds into Roshan’s hair. Idly peaceful. Flowers sprout through the earth; wither; climb up the rusted metal once again. A vine of roses twists around the hilt of a ceremonial spear, supple and full against cool, glinting steel. The leaves flicker, green yellow dead green again. Its blossom is still fresh red, like passion, like their love, pooling around them like a million memories, a still night in the river of time. Aditya looks at Roshan, different yet the same, a reflection of what they once were. Familiar, always, despite the changing tides and shifting dreams.

———

Notes

this part might actually be longer than the fic itself rip 😔 reminder that there’s extra rambling on ao3 lol

Suona/sorna: suona (唢呐) is a traditional wind instrument often played at wedding and funeral processions in northern China! (also used in Southeast China + Taiwan) It’s very loud and has a super brassy sound, but personally I think it sounds alright! The instrument came from Central Asia and is also used at weddings in Iran (where it’s spelled sorna/sarna), where it’s played with a dohol, a large cylindrical drum.

Phoenixes: wedding imagery in China, where a dragon symbolizes the groom and the phoenix the bride. There’s also an analogue to the phoenix in Persian mythology, a simurgh, which is a benevolent creature that is said to purify the land, roosts in the Tree of Knowledge, and apparently has seen the world be destroyed 3 times. Can symbolize healing, divinity, wisdom, and life. (the simurgh symbolism doesn't have much relevance to the fic but I thought it was incredibly interesting to read about lol)

Spring dream: very loosely referencing the Chinese phrase 一场春梦 (yi chang chun meng), which literally translates to an episode of a spring dream. It means the feeling that past predictions or events were actually totally wrong and fruitless, like you expected something (probably really good), but then woke up to reality not being up to your expectations? I can’t translate 😔

Mirror of Fate: In traditional Iranian weddings, a large, elaborate table with flowers and food and different spices is set up (sofreh aghd). A mirror of fate and 2 candelabras are also placed in the center of the table. The mirror represents how fate brought the bride and groom together, and the candelabras represent light and fire. The mirror is there so that when the groom looks into it, the first thing he should see is his betrothed's reflection.

Lotus blossoms: in China and India and many other parts of Asia, lotuses represent purity (they grow from dark mud but the flowers are pure white/pink), the divine, elegance, spiritual promise, the good part of humanity. so, a lotus with a drop of blood in Yao’s hands would be interesting.

Lily bulbs: this is purely self projection but lily bulbs (baihe) are used in Chinese medicine and I despise them. They're not super bitter but they taste starchy, bland, and off. Also lilies and lotuses are pretty similar and I thought that would be interesting :>

Chess: idk if I need a note for this but chess originated as an Indian game called Chaturanga and spread over to China and Iran, among many other places in Asia.

Tea and Coffee: nothing really special about this besides that Iranians Really Like tea. Decided to make India drink coffee instead for contrast; realistically he’d also be drinking tea lol

Eagle eyes: the Iranian/Persian symbol of the Faravahar, from Zoroastrianism has wings that are supposed to be eagle wings (I think? correct me if it’s just unspecified). You’ve probably seen it; it depicts a man with spread wings, half kneeling in a side view. Nowadays it’s also a symbol of Iranian culture, history, and national pride, besides being representative of Zoroastrianism.

Rose: national flower of Iran, and obv I don’t need to explain the other rose connotations. Also I’ve fully adopted the hc that Roshan and all their stuff smells like roses so that’s there too.

Lion and the sun: getting lazy with the explanations, but the short version is that it was a very important Iranian national symbol for many reasons, moreso tied to the state than culture (imo); it was also on the national flag up till the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Although I’m still debating how much Roshan is associated with the state, I also think sun and lion imagery fits them (glory, golden days, pride and courage). It’s super interesting, go search it up if you wanna read more!

This whole fic was somewhat inspired by this one, and the indchu bit was also somewhat inspired by this fanart.

If you made it down here, you have all my gratitude. Feedback is welcome and appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

[savetheplanarians]

Short Stories that are neither melancholic nor disturbing (probably)

Kaylie posted something which suggested that short stories, in general, aren’t happy.  I am here to right that wrong.  I would have reblogged my first set of comments, but tumblr is glitching and won’t allow it.  So, instead, part 2:

Cat Pictures Please An AI just wants to help people optimize their lives; in exchange, all it wants is cat pictures

From the Editorial Page of the Falchester Weekly Review (A Lady Trent Story) Passive aggressive correspondence within the context of letters to the editor of a scientific journal, regarding the existence of various dragon species

That Game We Played During the War After the war between humans and a telepathic species is over, a former prisoner of war visits her former captor to finish their game of chess.  It’s a very beautiful story about compassion and forgiveness and how we can be human

Small Wars A special ops team needs to acquire a cache of Welsh gold, but they have to fight leprechauns to get it

Fiber A team of high school cheerleaders returning home from a game stop at the sketchiest gas station ever, which sells homemade jerky.  Fortunately, the cheerleaders aren’t /just/ cheerleaders

A Kiss with Teeth by Max Gladstone A vampire and a vampire slayer eventually settle down and have a kid together, but old habits die hard, for both of them

The Shunned Trailer If HP Lovecraft was a pretentious teenager who ended up at a trailer park in Appalachia.  It’s the best description I have.  (Also, it’s only available in audio format, unfortunately)

Do Not Touch by Prudence Shen You can enter some of the paintings in the art museum, and it’s the job of the museum’s security guards to go get wandering children on field trips who touch the paintings

Burnt Sugar by Lish McBride It’s not Hansel and Gretel.  It’s who Hansel and Gretel might have become, if they had grown up and dedicated themselves to eradicating gingerbread houses

As Good As New by Charlie Jane Anders After the end of the world, a young woman finds a genii in a bottle

The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere Water falls on you from the sky every time you tell a lie.  This makes things complicated for someone who isn’t “out” to his traditional Chinese parents, and whose partner is talking about marriage

[cornerstonc]

also something i’ve been thinking of over the past. idk couple days or so-- i think natori probably gives the impression that when it comes to games and such, he would gravitate toward those which are considered more ~intellectual~ in nature, like. well. chess laughs

and while it’s certainly not untrue that he might enjoy these more challenging sort of games, there’s actually a very noted tendency in him to instead choose more simple games-- chinese checkers over chess, old maid, uno, trouble, boggle, so on and so forth. or he would at least expect it to be chosen by someone else and raise no complaints to the choice

bc truthfully the vast majority of the times he’s played games with others, it’s been with children or at least those much younger than himself (his sisters and their friends, lune, probably nelly at some point lbr lmao)

that’s what he’s accustomed to, even today, and i think it also plays a part in his general ideas on what activities to offer others. even in a mixed group, he’ll tend to be more mindful of what the youngest ones in the group will be liable to find fun rather than the older ones rip

which means if natori is ever in charge of like. a mixed-age art class or something ur all going to be making hand turkeys sorry

[cutiepisenpai]

Gifted part 8

Spencer Reid x F!Reader Warning: Slight angst, fluff Since the team didn’t have an active case, Hotch told them to take the rest of the day and the next day off unless they got called in. Spencer took Y/N home and he wanted to make sure she was okay so he went all the way to her door. The ride in the elevator was strange, he had taken this ride so many times and yet everything about being with Y/N now was like the first time again. When they get to the door, Y/N unlocks and opens it turning around to face Spencer. “Do you want to come in? I can um show you the first episode of the show I mentioned.” Y/N asks. “You should probably rest instead of trying to watch tv.” “Ugh I’m so tired of being told to rest. Rest isn’t going to fix anything. And if anyone should be resting it you. Like when was the last time you got a full night's sleep?” She rants. “I try to sleep but I can’t. The last time I slept the entire night was before you got shot.” He says low, almost a whisper. “Why would that stop you from sleeping? You didn’t get shot?” she asks. “Because I love you! And I was worried about you! And you didn’t remember me and I couldn’t do anything about it.” he yelled in a strangled voice as tears began to fall, all the sorrow and frustration he had suppressed coming to the surface. Y/N’s heart hurts for him. Everyone avoids mentioning anything about their relationship, never saying anything about them being more than friends. She had her inkling but now she was sure of it. She steps closer, reaching out to touch him but hesitates before wiping the tears as they fall, “Let’s go inside.” She leads him in to sit on the couch and she takes a seat next to him rubbing his back trying to console him. “You can talk to me about anything. I might not remember what things were like before but I’ll always be here for you.” They sit together eventually falling asleep on the couch.  

Spencer was the first to wake up a few hours later. The apartment was dark sun having already set, yellow street lights shown through the curtain. He felt a comforting weight on his chest and when he looked down he saw Y/N sleeping on him. It felt so normal to be here with her like this he rubs a hand up and down her back. His hands make their way up to her head scratching at her scalp and lightly behind her ear and she smiles in her sleep. Her smile brings him so much joy, “I miss you so much sweetpea.” He says. She turns in her sleep and mumbles, “I miss you too honeybee.” His heart swells. She does remember not consciously but somewhere in there she remembers him she still loves him. Finally relenting and enjoying the memories he had with her he relishes in the feeling now. She shifts eyes opening to look up at him and for the first time in a long time she doesn’t look at him like a stranger, “Whatcha staring at creep?” She asks giggling. He had never been so happy to hear her call him a creep, “You are beautiful.” He smiles back at her. “Even with this large bruise?” She asks pointing at her eye, he takes a hold of her face gently swiping his thumb over the bruise. When she doesn’t move away from his touch he leans forward placing a gentle kiss on the bruise. Her eyes flutter shut relishing in the feeling even when he pulls away, it’s the most real anything has felt since she woke up in the hospital. “Can I ask you a favor?” She asks. “Yea, anything.” “Can you tell me about before, honestly tell me.” “Yea um yea I can do that. On your first day at the BAU I met you riding up the elevator…” He smiles thinking about it, “When we got out and walked into the bullpen my eyes were glued to you. I was being so obvious and then Morgan noticed and teased me for it. I was such a nervous wreck around you I couldn’t even talk you every time you talked to me I would get lost in your voice.” When he looks into her eyes and sees the tears forming, “Why are you crying?” He asks “I wish I remembered. The way you talk about it I really wish I could remember everything.” He wraps his arms around her pulling her against his chest kissing the top of her head, “Don’t worry even if they don’t come back we can make new ones. I’m just happy you know.” They lie there together until Y/N’s stomach growls, “Shush” She says looking down and Spencer laughs at her reaction. “We should probably eat dinner.” He says. “I don’t feel like cooking.” “We can order something.” “Sounds good” They end up up ordering chinese food and Y/N makes fun of Spencer for not being able to use chopsticks. After dinner they watch the first episode of Doogie Howser M.D. because how could they not. 

That night when Spencer went home instead of sleeping like he should, like he told Y/N he would, he started researching ways to recover memory. When he looks over to the clock and sees the time he runs to take a quick shower before gathering all the stuff he spent the night finding and going to Y/N’s apartment. “What’s all that?” Y/N asks seeing the bags Spencer is carrying. He sits the bags down pulling articles and items out setting them on the coffee table. “I did some research on memory recovery and I have some things you could try.” He says. “Is that why it looks like you didn’t sleep? Maybe you should have slept instead the chances of any of these working is slim.” She says sitting down next to him. “It doesn’t hurt to try right?” He asks. He starts to look so disappointed and she can’t handle it. “Ok fine, but please stop looking like a kicked puppy.” “Okay so exercise, a healthy diet, and sleep are by far the most important, but other than sleep you already have a good grasp on the others.” He says. “Hey I sleep just fine when I’m not being called into work.” She says defensively. “The dark circles under your eyes tell a different story.” “Really? This coming from you. I’m pretty sure your eyebags are damn near permanent. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.” She says poking at the bags under Spencer’s eyes. “Anyways other things that might also help are meditating, writing in a journal, learning a new skill and puzzles. I’ve got crossword and jigsaw puzzles to start. We can also play chess.” He starts rambling about the benefits of using these tools to strengthen her memories. “You do know these all help retain memories right, not regain them.” “I know” He says, there’s that look again. “Ok I’ll make you a deal if you sleep more I will try these and see if they improve memory.” She offers her hand pinky out. “A pinky promise? We’re adults.” She continued holding her pinky out for him with a look, a look he is familiar with that means she is being serious. He wraps his pinky around hers grasping tight and she smiles, he loves that smile. When they let go she reaches over to pick up the book with the crossword puzzles. “I have a preference for word searches.” She says opening to the first page pen in hand. “I know you do but you need a challenge and you can figure out a word search just by glancing at it.”  She sticks her tongue out at him in response. 

The rest of the week goes well. Spencer checks in with Y/N everyday asking about how the meditation and journaling is going. She checks in with him to make sure that he is in fact sleeping. While they were on a case they did crosswords on the plane and during the little breaks they had Spencer would quiz her on any amounts of random information. The team enjoyed watching the two laugh and joke and even argue again. Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ are driving back to meet up with everyone else. A phone call comes in from Garcia, “Hey Baby Girl, what’s up, any new information.” “Me no but that’s not why I’m calling.” Garcia says. “Not that we aren’t happy to hear from you but what’s up?” Prentiss asks. “How are our love birds? She asks, voice full of hope. “They are doing just fine.” Prentiss answers. “That is not what I mean, JJ said they were acting normal again.” Garcia says. “Well on the plane they were sitting together again arguing over a crossword puzzle. She brought him snacks and made him limit his coffee. Earlier he kept asking her random questions and she got tired of it and glared at him.” JJ explains as they all chuckle. “I’m so happy. I don’t think I would have been able to take watching them apart.” Garcia says. “Well you can’t force anything just have to let it happen.” Morgan says. They hang up when they reach the local police department pulling up at the same time as Hotch and Rossi. When they walk in they are surprised at what they see Y/N is sitting on a table looking up at Spencer who appears to be yelling at her. Initially they are concerned until they see Y/N burst out laughing at a very frustrated Spencer. He storms off as Y/N tells him to wait still laughing. “What happened?” Morgan asks. She is still laughing tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. When she finally stops laughing and catches her breath, “We were discussing Dr. Who and I asked how he could watch a show with improbable science. To which he argued that it’s not all that improbable and if I actually watched that I would know. And I said how would he know if I watched it or not and he said he already tried to get me to watch it. And I said Oh I remember that and now he’s mad that I finally remembered something and it’s that.” Y/N rambles. “Wait you remembered something?” Hotch asks. “It’s kind of fuzzy but that was the clearest a memory has been.” The team is happy to hear the good news. Y/N is happy as well. The memory itself was strange, kind of blurry tunnel vision like and she hated to admit all the mind strengthening techniques Spencer mentioned probably helped. “Do you want to talk about it?” Hotch asks. “Not in the slightest. Any new information.” Y/N asks. The team delves into discussion of the case. 

After arresting the unsub the team is packing up their things at the hotel waiting for the jet to be ready. Spencer hears a knock at his door, when he answers he sees Y/N. “Hey can I come in?” He moves to let her in. “Are you still upset?” She asks. “I wasn’t upset.” He answers. “You haven’t said a word to me since then.” “I just.. Why is that the first thing you remember?” and she shrugs. “Why does that bother you? I thought you would be happy. You know after working so hard to help me regain my memories.” “That isn’t how I want you to remember things. An argument.” He says. She chuckles placing a palm on his face, “The details are a little fuzzy but even I know that is not a bad memory. It may have been an argument but it was light hearted.” She says with a smile. Spencer can’t stop himself from smiling, “Can I kiss you?” She responds by standing on her tiptoes bringing her lips to ghost over his, barely touching. Spencer doesn’t move, he waits for her. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, drowning out all other sounds. She felt warmth when she fully pressed her lips against his, it was soft and delicate. The smell of coffee and peppermint floods her nose. He grabs her waist pulling her in closer to him and feels her smile against his lips and he smiles back. When they pulled away they smiled widely, “I have waited so long to kiss you again.” Y/N opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by Morgan walking in. “Hey are you ready….” He doesn’t finish the sentence he just turns and walks out of the room shutting the door behind him. Y/N and Spencer just laughed at the situation sharing another quick kiss and going to meet up with the team. When they got downstairs to get in the SUV’s and head to the jet the team were all huddled whispering and giggling. They knew exactly what they were talking about, “What is this high school?” Y/N interrupts them. “I don’t know lovebird, why don’t you tell us.” Morgan quips backs. Arriving at the tarmac and boarding the jet Spencer and Y/N are inseparable holding hands the entire way. They sit next to each other and can still hear the snickers around them. “Don’t listen to them, they’re just jealous.” Spencer whispers into her ear and she giggles in response. They sit together, hands intertwined until they fall asleep on the flight home.

[adenei]

Auror 99 - Chapter 9

Hey y’all! Sorry about the hiatus with this one. I’m so stoked to share that the inspiration is back and I’ll hopefully be back into this one to finish it out!

Slow State of Affairs

The next few days moved slowly. Despite various stakeouts and more research on the state of Vampire affairs in the United States, England, and Italy, they still had very little on Gerteso. He hadn’t been spotted at all entering MACUSA. It was starting to feel more and more like a wild goose chase than anything because they weren’t making any progress. 

Hermione had taken to spending her free time reading Amy’s Harry Potter books. Amy had been kind enough to go back to her apartment and get the rest so that Hermione could see what Rita had written. Ron and Harry had no interest in reading them, so Hermione would just share how accurate they were, which was incredible. Hermione had become convinced that Rita had other unregistered Animagi working for her, and their sole job was to spy on Harry and gather as much possible information as they could.

“You read faster than me,” Amy had commented when Hermione had finished the first three books in two days. “Would now be a good time to tell you that there are also movies?” she asked hesitantly.

Hermione had just taken Goblet of Fire off of the table. She looked at Amy. “What? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Um...no. Should I not have said that? I thought you might want to watch them, too.” Hermione’s jaw dropped as Amy went on quickly. “They’re really not as good compared to the books! The screenwriters....they really changed a lot with the char- I mean, with you all. We don’t have to watch them if you don’t want-”

“Oh, we’re watching them. As soon as the guys get back from their stakeout today.”

“What’d I miss?” Rosa asked as she came in the door. She’d been at the station in a briefing with Captain Holt and Kingsley. 

“Just making plans for the evening. Any news?” Hermione directed the conversation back to the case.

“Still nothing. Jake and Charles haven’t seen anything. Not sure what the other two are up to. Shouldn’t you be researching the case and not what some bitch wrote about your lives?” Rosa raised her eyebrow in question at Hermione.

“I’ve researched everything I possibly can. Until we get a trace on Gerteso, I won’t know any more than I already do.” It was true. 

They knew Gerteso’s motive, they’d learned everything they could about how the vampires worked, even down to known hangouts and possible headquarters. But there’d been no movement to suggest anything was happening. So, Hermione had taken solace in the books. 

Hermione continued to ponder Rosa’s words as she set the children’s book down, her mind wandering back to the case. Harry and Ron were staking out different vampire hangouts in an attempt to get more information on the Cryptic, while Jake and Charles manned the entrance to MACUSA. Could there be an angle they hadn’t yet taken in the attempts of making a breakthrough?

Her thoughts were interrupted as Jake and Charles walked through the door with Chinese takeout in hand for the evening. “Anything new?” Amy asked them hopefully.

“Nada,” Charles said as Jake shook his head. 

“Whoever this guy is, he must relish in taking his time.” Jake said in frustration.

“Well, if he’s taking his time, there has to be some reason for it,” Rosa added.

“But what is it? That’s what we can’t figure out,” Hermione thought out loud. 

Continuously stumped over it, she shook her head and checked her watch. Harry and Ron should be back soon. As if on cue, her husband and best friend walked in the door with a simple shake of their heads. Once again, no luck.

Everyone sighed as they began tucking into the food. They were all tired and losing motivation. Something needed to give, and fast. In an effort to make conversation, Amy said, “So, Hermione and I are going to watch the Sorcerer’s Stone tonight. Maybe even Chamber of Secrets if it’s not too late.”

Harry and Ron both looked up. “What’s she mean ‘watch Sorcerer’s Stone?’ Hermione?” Ron was looking back and forth between Amy and his wife.

Hermione let out a deep sigh as Boyle said, “You didn’t know there are movies, too?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry said.

“Bloody buggering hell,” Ron muttered.

“If you don’t want to watch it, I’m sure I could download the second Die Hard. There’s more than one TV here…” Jake suggested.

Harry and Ron thought about it. “We should probably watch it. At least we’re not watching ourselves...just watching people act like us.”

Amy looked excited, but also nervous. “I feel like I should warn you, as an avid fan, the books are MUCH better than the movies.”

“What d’you mean by that?” Ron asked.

“Well, the first few movies are a fairly good adaptation of the books, but as they go on, stuff gets left out or changed.”

“Wait, so it’s bad enough the story of my life is in a children’s series, then it was made into movies, and those movies don’t even do the books justice?” Harry said in dismay. “Can this get any worse?”

“Well, not really for you, no,” Boyle said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked.

“You’ll see,” Charles immediately went back to his food. Ron looked at Amy for further clarification.

“The screenwriters changed some of the characters. But we may not even get to the later movies, so I wouldn’t worry about it,” Amy said quickly.

“Great,” Harry said. 

They all finished their meal and cleaned up before settling in the living area for the movie. Harry and Ron gladly took a beer from Jake who was offering them up. Maybe alcohol would make the experience easier. They settled into the movie, and by the time they reached the end, Hermione had to admit that, all things considered, it wasn’t terrible. She didn’t speak at first, though. Instead, she waited for Harry and Ron’s reaction.

“Of all the stink people gave about my eyes growing up, they chose an actor who didn’t even have green eyes?” Harry finally said. Everyone burst into laughter at that, and the tension seemed to be released from the air. 

“I suppose it was fairly close, all things considered,” Hermione acknowledged.

“Ron, were you really that much of a badass on the chess board?” Jake asked.

“I- yeah, I guess. They downplayed the injury, though,” Ron said as his ears turned pink.

“Well, it is a kid’s movie,” Rosa commented. 

“How close was the depiction of Voldemort?” Amy asked eagerly. 

“Er, pretty close. Quirrell really was the perfect host,” Harry told her. “And the turban was the perfect disguise to cover him up.” 

“I always did wonder how well Voldemort breathed in that thing,” Ron said, as everyone chuckled and agreed.

The conversation had continued on about the various characters and how closely the characters did or didn’t match their real life counterpart. But Hermione had stopped listening. She was stuck on something that Harry had said. The word disguise kept playing over and over in her mind.

Suddenly, Hermione looked up at the rest of the group around the room. “That’s it!” 

“What? Hermione, we might need to have a talk if Alan Rickman as Snape gets you off…” Ron joked.

“I- What?” Hermione looked at him. She didn’t let the confusion of his words bother her for very long, though. “Nevermind that. What if Gerteso is using a disguise to get in and out of MACUSA?”

“What makes you say that?” Jake asked.

“Well, you’ve been staking out the entrance every day. After the altercation in the alley, he’s bound to remember you! He’s been so secretive and getting away with things for so long. Of course he’s not moving around in the open, especially now that he knows we’re onto him! He must be disguising himself!”

Realization began to dawn on everyone. “You know, Hermione, you might just be onto something!” Harry said.

“And we’ve been spending all this time in underground vampire bars, when we should be watching MACUSA!” Ron said. “Hermione, you really are a genius!”

Hermione blushed at his words. Even after years of marriage, his praise always meant the world to her. Instead of thanking him though, she said, “Always the tone of surprise,” as she smiled at him. 

It was always their ‘thing’ that they said to each other, though perhaps the whole world also knew, too. She’d have to make a note to check for that when she got to the seventh book. If Rita did have such close tabs on them, even during the hunt, she had to give her credit for not selling them out to Voldemort…

“...Earth to Hermione,” she heard Jake say, “So what do you suggest tomorrow’s plan be, then?”

“Oh..right, sorry. Well, Harry and Ron should probably go investigate in the wand records office tomorrow.”

“But we don’t know what we’re investigating,” Harry said. “It’s not like we know The Cryptic’s actual name.”

Hermione furrowed her brow as she thought about what Harry had said. He was right, but before she could work it out herself, Amy chimed in. “What if you don’t need to know his name? Is there a visitor log you can track?”

“Yes! There’s a general sign in at the lobby, and another more detailed one in the wand records office. They don’t typically let anyone in that office.” Hermione answered.

“So if Gerteso’s been there, we’ll have a way to see what he was looking for,” Boyle said.

“Or what he found!” Jake added.

“And if he hasn’t been yet, he’s still working out a plan to get what he’s looking for successfully,” said Rosa. “If that’s the case, we’ll be more prepared to catch him.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Hermione’s mind was in overdrive, formulating details for tomorrow. “Now, we plan.”

[beeexx]

Chapter 2 of To all the boys I’ve Loved before Tarlos au is up. You can read it here.

Here is a little tease :)

TK makes it as far as to his locker, his and Carlos’s contract safely tucked into a book of his in his backpack, when he runs into Paul.  

 Ah, well fuck, he’s oficially screwed now. 

Paul’s eyes are narrowed and he has that very obvious ‘don’t you dare bullshit me’ look he’s gotten famous for in their group which they all know very well that lying is the worst thing you can do in that moment. TK sighs and motions for Paul to follow him to the bathrooms so they can talk privately. TK checks each stall to see if they are empty before he turns to a very impatient looking Paul staring at him.

“Okay, so I can explain.”

“Can you? Good, let’s go.”

“So what do you want to know?”

“How you went from ‘I’m never going to date Carlos I never want to see him again’ to locking lips with him where the whole school could see.” Paul imitates his voice and it’s way too high pitched to sound anything at all like TK does, but he ignores it. 

“I don’t think the whole school could see...”

“Most people videoed it.”

“Right, yeah… of course…” TK hadn’t even thought about that, well fuck, that’s not exactly something he’d want finding its way to the headmaster or to any future collage or university applications. 

“Sooo….?”

“Well the day when you went off to see Lily.”

“For the chess club.” Paul corrects and TK rolls his eyes because that is not true, no matter how hard he tries to convince him of that.

“Anyway I almost reversed into Carlos, he was fine by the way. Then Matteo has been on my ass about me being lonely and ending up some kind of hermit or something and how I should get a boyfriend. He’s been really annoying and then some stupid letters I wrote ages ago got out, probably because they accidentally ended up in the Goodwill boxes I sent out only for Carlos’ to actually get his.” He rushes through the first part of the story so he can just get to the part where him and Carlos are fake dating, because that is now a thing.

“And he was all like I’m flattered but Alex bla bla bla Alex bla bla so I just kissed him on the pitch because Alex was there and I wanted to get back at him and Carlos was annoying and I lost my mind there for a moment I think. Cut to me running away to Cafe Corner to be cornered by Carlos again and for him to actually suggest we fake date to make Alex jealous, so now I have a fake boyfriend and it’s Carlos…?” Paul’s eyes have widened, like he can’t believe a word he’s just heard and TK doesn’t blame him because it sounds absolutely deranged to his own ears too. Then Paul starts to laugh, a little too loudly and a little longer than what TK warrants to be necessary.

“Man, this sounds like one of those cheesy romance novels you keep reading. This is like straight out of a movie, I love it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“This is so going to end badly.”

“What? Why? How?”

“Ah TK, my sweet innocent child.” TK huffs as Paul grabs him by the shoulders to pull him close, holding on very tightly which makes it impossible for TK to shrug him off.

“It’s going to end with feelings and heartbreak.” TK scoffs.

“Feelings? What are you talking about? Feelings for who? Carlos? Are you kidding, it’s all just pretend.”

“Well in a few months’ time I might say I told you so and gloat a little bit, but I will obviously be the shoulder you can cry on when I am ultimately right.”

“I’m just helping him get back at Alex, I don’t see that as a particularly bad thing.”

“Oh I have no problem with you getting back at Alex, he’s an ass, he deserves it, all I’m saying is that these things never work out the way you intend them to.”

“Whatever, also you can’t tell Mateo and Marjan, it’s bad enough that you know, we put no snitching in the contract.” Paul bursts out laughing even harder and TK feels his cheeks flush, but whatever, having a contract for these things are important, he stands by that. 

“I won’t say a word.” He says through his laughter and TK finally manages to pull Paul off himself and leaves while giving him the finger, to the sound of Paul’s laughter ringing in his ears as the door closes. 

The rest of the day stays blissfully boring.

……

“Mateo come on!” TK shouts for what feels like the 100th time this morning and throws his hands up in defeat when there’s no reply. “Okay fuck it, you can walk.”

“No swearing TK.” Owen chides and TK gives him the finger when he isn’t looking.

“I’m coming!” Mateo shouts but TK still can’t hear him make a move from upstairs so that’s clearly a lie since he’s been saying that for the last ten minutes.

“You go on your own, I can just drive him once he’s ready.” Owen suggests.

“Actually… well actually I’m not driving today.” He says carefully.

“No?”

“No, Carlos is supposed to take the both of us.”

“Carlos? Carlos Reyes?”

“Yes, we’re I guess friends now…”

“Oh, that’s amazing, I’m happy to hear that.” His dad says overly excited for something as mundane as TK making friends, but the look on his dad’s face sends a pang of guilt through TK, he doesn’t want to lie to anyone, but then he really doesn’t want to have a conversation about how he has a pretend boyfriend to get back at Carlos’ ex that happens to be Alex either, so keeping his mouth shut about it seems logical and it doesn’t feel like his dad has to know about it just this exact moment so.

“Mhm.” He will leave Mateo though, because it’s becoming too much for TK to stand in the kitchen and lie right now.

“I’m here.” Mateo says, fucking finally done, and looking exactly the same as he does on any other school day so TK has no clue what the hell he’s been doing all morning.

“Finally!”

“Bye kids, have a good day.”

“You too.” Mateo calls as he closes and locks the door, just as Carlos drives up the road. 

“Oh, hell yes.” Mateo says excitedly as he sees Carlos’ car. TK thinks it is ridiculous and can’t help but wonder if Carlos is trying to compensate for the car in lack of certain things in other departments but he stops himself thinking along those lines immediately because nope, nope, nope no.

“Morning.” Carlos says smiling and makes sure to open the door for TK who rolls his eyes while Mateo swoons in the back.

“Stop being weird.” TK tells him and Mateo swats his hand away.

“I’m just trying to get used to the idea that you’re actually dating Carlos. EEEHH I am so happy for you.”

“Yeah totally.” TK tries to sound excited as well. Carlos gets back in the driving seat and starts the car. 

“Hi.” He says gently to TK and TK smiles and nudges him further away, Carlos chuckles delightedly. 

“Oh, here by the way TK, it’s from Grace.” Mateo says and throws something in TK’s lap, TK’s face lighting up immediately.

“Ahhh yes.”

“What’s that?” Carlos asks.

“Oh this? It’s chocolate from the Scandinavian store, it’s the best chocolate in town.” Carlos looks doubtful.

“It is! Here try some.” TK breaks off a small piece and gives it to Carlos who instead of just taking it off from TK leans his face close to TK’s fingers and very gently but purposely puts his mouth just at the tip of TK’s thumb and index finger and takes the chocolate off him, the tip of his tongue brushing against TK’s skin, sending shivers straight up his spine and making him blush ridiculously hard, Mateo wolf whistling in the back of the car. TK’s eyes snap to Carlos who is looking at him instead of at the road ahead and what he sees there makes him feel hot all over.

“Yeah, okay, wow it’s good.” Carlos is clearly impressed, his eyes lighting up, making his whole face glow in happiness, and TK breaks out of whatever the hell just happened and gulps and stares straight ahead in order to get his bearings together.

“Yeah it is.” Mateo says and for a moment TK had even forgotten that he was in the car.

“Where do you get it from?”

“It’s all the way across from town, TK is too scared to drive there himself but Grace and Judd live much closer to it and Grace is literally an angel so every now and then she goes to stock up for him.” TK tries to glare at Mateo for spilling his secrets, and giving away the location of the best supermarket ever, you can get so many nice things in those shops that you would never be able to get from the normal ones and TK is particular about keeping quiet about its location. 

“Who is Grace and Judd?”

“Our dad works with Judd and Grace is his wife, she’s a 911 operator.”

“Aahh, okay.” Carlos says and looks like that cleared something up he must have been very confused about. 

They make it to school much quicker than it normally would take when TK drives and Mateo is ecstatic, his whole face glowing in triumph when they step out to the parking lot, gaining some stares in the process that TK could really do without. Mateo hides his snickers.

“Morning.” Iris calls, comes up to punch Carlos’ shoulder, high fives Mateo and levels TK with a stare he doesn’t think is exactly hostile but not totally friendly either.

“Hi. Iris.” He takes her hand.

“Hi, TK.”

“Right, right, yes of course. I know who you are.” TK’s eyebrow raises because to her he’s probably the guy who made Carlos spill out their Chinese food just before summer ended.

“You’re Mateo’s brother, he’s told me about you.”

Oh, okay, that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting but he guesses he’s fine with that.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right.”

“Sweet.” She leans against Carlos’ other side and puts an arm around Mateo’s shoulder, squeezing brotherly while Mateo looks like she’s hung the moon.

Oh no TK thinks.

“Iris, behave yourself.” Carlos scolds without heat.

“Me? I always behave. TK, if Carlos ever tells you that I was the one almost getting us arrested it’s a lie, remember that. It was totally him.”

“What? You almost got arrested?” Mateo pipes up by Iris’ side.

“Don’t go giving him any ideas Iris, I don’t want to bail him out.” TK says, a little sternly because he really doesn’t want to do that. Iris grins a little evilly, looking between the two, with Mateo giving her puppy eyes and TK trying to plead with her. 

“I think it’s a story for another time.” TK breathes out a sigh of relief and Carlos rolls his eyes at her. 

“Ignore her.” He whispers to TK and TK hopes he can. 

“Well, I have history, I kind of need to go…” TK says to Carlos, picking his phone up to double check the time, he hates being late.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

“Come on Mateo, let’s go to chem.” Iris pulls Mateo with her and gives Carlos an unreadable look and sends him an encouraging smile as a parting gift, TK has no idea what their silent communication means, but they must know each other well if they can do it so easily.

“Okay, well I’ll see you at lunch, it’s a perfect opportunity for Alex to see.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” For a moment TK’s forgotten all about the whole making Alex jealous thing they got going but with Carlos’ reminder it’s suddenly very clear again that they are barely even friends. Come to think of it TK doesn’t even know that much about Carlos to begin with. He just nods and smiles and then picks up the pace to get to history and out of the vicinity of Carlos as fast as he can.

[sebastianshaw]

Let's go wide and predictable... Tell me about the different WoD incarnations for Shaw. :>

OK SO First thing I am glad you are also a nerd for this so I don’t don’t to explain all these terms. Secondly wow I need to be better about tagging/organizing, I couldn’t find all the other posts on this I was SURE I wrote. SO HERE’S A BIG FAT POST, RIP YOUR EYES

VAMPIRE Lasombra: This is the clan I typically default to in answers for him AS YOU HAVE NOTICED. I mean, they’re dark aristocrats who are all about Social Darwinish, preying on the weak, and the strong reigning. They primarily enforce this subtly through political games, but they have NO PROBLEM throwing an elegant Potence-backed punch. While one would think that these proud predators demanding sniveling obedience---and one would, in a way, be right---they certainly don’t RESPECT it, and it can even induce violent rage in them. Fits Shaw to a T. Sure, the Catholicism/Church control and Spanish origins and attraction to the sea and Abyss mysticism aren’t for him, but hey, he fits the outlook of the Clan perfectly aside from the religious aspects, and no one fits EVERY stereotype of a clan anyway.  Most Lasombra are Sabbat, and he could be too, but he would be in it for personal power, not true belief in being the Sword of Caine. I can equally easily see him going antitribu for the political power and stability of the Camarilla.  My other choices for him are VENTURE which is pretty obvious, but also Gangrel, which sounds counterintuitive but I HAVE A REALLY GOOD ARGUEMENT FOR IT! WEREWOLF Shadow Lord. Total Shadow Lord for pretty much all the same reasons as Lasombra. Like just LOOK AT THIS QUOTE: “ The Shadow Lords are a fictional tribe of Garou (werewolves) in White Wolf Game Studio’s Werewolf: The Apocalypse role-playing game.   […]  The Shadow Lords’ lives are like a daily game of chess and a constant struggle for power […] Shadow Lords respect power and condemn weakness, any cub who’s not strong enough in their eyes is banished from the tribe [… ] None of the other tribes like them very much, or at all, but even the ones who hate them most don’t question their ability to get things done. […] perhaps the largest camp, the Lords of the Summit tend to be the stereotypical Shadow Lords - power-hungry, manipulative, ambitious, and arrogant. This by no means makes them less dangerous foes.” And like. . . .they focus on political and intellectual power FIRST, and that sort of character is typically physically weak. But as with the Lasombra, nope, the Shadow Lords had bodily power too; they’re described as looking more like over-muscled pit bulls in lupine form than wolves. So....yeah, that’s perfect. Because Shaw does fight “smart” first, he ideally never touches his opponent, but when he has to? BOY CAN HE PULVERIZE. So, Shadow Lord Shaw is a Homid, probably an Ahroun but maybe a Philodox, and he has a lot of Glass Walkers following him as well as fellow Shadow Lords; he finds great use in their technological talents and ability to adapt to an urban environment and OWN it (rather than just SURVIVE in its fringes like a Bone Gnawer, as he sees it) and they organize themselves in a corporate-like structure where he takes a natural lead.  While the Shadow Lords are stereotypically/traditionally Eastern European, they can be of any race today. Shaw’s dad is English, but since we never see his mom in canon, for this version I’m saying his mom was a great big Eastern European Shadow Lord, and that’s why he never knew her, because the Garou aren’t typically raising their own young. He’s just. . . .big brutal wolf boy. And has like a billion puppies/Kinfolk kids. I DREW HIM FERA Ok, so I picked a BUNCH of Fera for Shaw, and you know why? I could. Literally just because I could. I don’t have a DM to tell me no! I even picked extinct ones, BECAUSE I WANTED TO! Cat-wise, I like him as a Khan or a Khara. Are the Khara extinct? Yes. Do they really suit him, the way they’re described less as warriors and more just secret-gatherers? Not at all. I picked them because I just like the idea of him turning into a massive, massive black smilodon. Because I think it’s cool and I don’t have to respect canon here. He can be the last of the Khara and not fit them at all if I say so. And hey, he LOOKS like a prehistoric man already! As for the Khan. . . .of the extant Bastet, the Simba and Khan fit him best. And if I am being honest? The Simba probably are a better fit for him. And I’m fine with that. I’m fine with Shaw as a big ol werelion with a black mane. But I also just really, really like the Khan. And as I have made clear, I am running this show. So my first choice for him that isn’t a Shadow Lord, is a Khan. They’re most typically Indian, Chinese, or (due to breeding with colonizers in India) English, so he could be one of the English Khan, and hey, fighting the Wyrm gives him a good outlet for. . . himself. Their human forms are also typically tall and HUGE, upwards of 300 lbs, and they’ve sired some of the most beautiful kittens and powerful bloodlines. T “ The Simba may declare themselves nobility, but the weretigers fit the title. Regal hunters and warriors, these Bastet evoke the respect the lions demand. From the snowy mountains of Asia to the cities of India, the weretigers hunt the spawn of Asura and defend the last of their Kin. They’re solid, dependable, smart and strong. Their weaknesses, such as they are, come from being too trusting or too sure of themselves. Khan are straightforward and action-oriented, not clever schemers. Whatever a Khan does, he does full-tilt — fighting, romancing, hunting, studying, even contemplating. These Bastet throw themselves into all tasks with vigor and passion, and their bodies, in any form, bristle with vitality. Most Khan love company; though few of them can stand the presence of another of their kind for long, they often enjoy companions. And who would deny a tiger’s friendship? It’s said the Khan were brought forth to battle demons, and many of them take that charge literally. Vampires, Asura and fomori have few enemies more relentless than a tiger. Perhaps that’s why the Khan have been brought to the verge of extinction: They made too many of the wrong kind of enemies.” “ The tribe’s traditional cultures stress honor and obedience. The treachery of Nagda was worsened by the stain it put on the tigers’ pride. While solitary in nature, most Khan establish protectorates where they defend a given family or land against corruption. The fact that “defense” occasionally includes killing certain people doesn’t detract from the tribal purpose. The Kahn were created to war against demons. Those who court the darkness must die “ “ While many Khan tend to be bad-tempered and aggressive, others love company of all kinds (and are powerful enough to demand respect). “ So, is that ALL Shaw? No. He’d be a particularly nasty, scheming Khan, in fact, a little unusual for his breed. But that’s hardly unheard of. After all, the famous English Khan named Lord Clouster “had cobras for a heart; he tossed his own kuasha beneath the wheels of a train, fed his wife to a suttee fire by pretending to be dead, then killed his children when he found they did not carry the Changing Touch.” And another Khan, the Indian sultan Nagda, got into a feud with another Khan and “ taken over by his rage, the Sultan Nagda betrayed his race and used a tribal secret. During an eclipse, his assassins struck all over Asia, slaying nearly 100 Khan and many Kinfolk outright.” So, Khan can be bad too.  But not as bad as the Simba. “ “The Lords of Sunlight.” That’s what they call themselves. Like the blazing mane around the heads of their kings, werelions liken themselves to the sun. All things have a place and an order and rebels must be reminded of this fact. The real fact, of course, is that the other tribes dislike the lions; the Simba may call themselves “Lords of Sunlight,” but many other cats give them another name: “The Dark Kings,” an unflattering comparison to the Khan. The Simba aren’t villains; they’re magnificent lords, slayers of demons. Things are simply out of order. When the balance is  restored, when the humans know their place and the cities become graveyards, the lions will be proven right. The demons of the modern age can be traced to the end of the Impergium and the laxity of the Changing Breeds. The Simba mean to put things in order, and if that requires bloodshed, so be it. Warfare is the sport of kings” “ Werelions value strength and order. Despite their bloody reputation, Simba adore their loved ones, and watch their Kinolk closely. Children and kittens are raised within the pride and must constantly prove themselves to survive. “ “ Each pride has one Mtolo (“father”), or dominant male, and several Kirii (“wives”) and Anwana (“young hunters”). Small prides defer to larger ones, and may owe allegiance to a Chakuva (“High King”) like Black Tooth. “ So, Simba are very patriarchal, very hierarchal, and want to run everyone else and feel they’re entitled to do so by birthright,  and the more I talk the LESS it sounds like Shaw actually? Like don’t get me wrong, he’s proud and power-hungry AS YOU KNOW, but what sets him apart from Apocalypse or Magneto or Xavier is that Shaw has never sought to have mutantkind follow him. He has his own ideologies, but he has never sought to lead others or enforce it on them. So really, the Simba mentality of “we should be in charge because it’s us” DOESN’T work for him, nor does the idea of being entitled to do so, as Shaw’s “power first” mentality is all about EARNING your position, not deserving it automatically. It’s all very Fabian though! So I’ll leave that here as a bonus for you instead of going back and deleting it lol. yEAH HE’S A BAD KHAN, BASICALLY And his Pyrio, no matter what cat type he is, would be Night.  Each Bastet has a “Pyrio” meaning a classification of their general personality and what fields they’re likely to pursue and be talented in. “Like the Dark Father Cahlash, the favor of the Night indicates a sinister or hidden nature. Most Bastet with this Pryio tend to withdraw from others, concentrating on their own business unless interrupted. Although they might not be actively malignant, they have short tempers and quiet ways, and fiercely guard their privacy. Night Bastet prefer occupations such as assassin, scholar, scientist and dark mystic. In the wilderness, the Night cats are hidden hunters and man-eaters, with nasty dispositions and an eerie reputations. These are the cats whose deeds are told around campfires for years to come. If you’ve got a disposition toward the Night, activities that cause others discomfort, reinforce your private space or protect some valuable secret from outsiders can refresh your Willpower.” So yeah. Shaw is a night kitty.  Rats are not the type that fit him the MOST, but I drew him as a RATKIN WARRIOR anyway. Because rats. Also while I drew him as a Warrior, he could also be an Engineer or a Plague Lord (specifically sylphyllis; every Plague Lord contracts with a disease spirit and embodies its most horrific symptoms and I just love the idea of this hideous terrifying syph-ridden Shaw) And hey, he can get into the “culling humanity” and “survive so that you may breed” deal! Most wererats also have very little kindness towards the weak either, despite being the underdogs of the Fera themselves. Likewise, hyenas aren’t the breed that fit him the most but I kinda dig the idea of him as an Ajaba? Their role was choosers of the slain, tasked with culling the sick, dying, and unfit. They were called rainmakers because of the tears their task brought to others, and they did not spare even their own. Then, the Simba came to their lands, and enacted genocide against them. They left Africa and spread across the globe, now breeding indiscriminately to survive and can be any race. What holds them together now first isn’t any duty, but the desire to simply stay alive. And both those things---culling weakness, and being knocked off his pedestal and now forced to fight for scraps in the shadows to survive---seem fitting for Shaw. The philosophy is obviously what he’s always had, and the degraded position reflects where he currently is in canon. He’s not usually the underdog, but he is here---but doubtlessly a brutal one, the Fera equivalent of a gang leader, recruiting  Also they’re matriarchal and I kinda like the idea of him having to deal with that, as....that kind of fits too? Shaw was the only MAN of note in the Hellfire Club. All the other most iconic, powerful, threatening members were women, and Shaw’s never really had a chance (or tried to fuck with) any of them. He’s USED to being around a ton of badass ladies who are calling the shots, that’s just TUESDAY for him.   Finally---FINALLY-- I could see him as the odd human-born Rokea. A Great White, of course. Again, it was probably his mother who was the Fera, some monstrous creature who came on land and mated with his human father, only to spawn this boy while still out of the water. All Rokea are ugly in their human state, but Shaw looks better than most due to being born on land and as a human, and he is also able to move through---and thrive---in human society. Since he is seen as a Betweener---one of the Rokea who “betrays” the Sea by living on land instead---stepping into what should be his natural habitat is always risky for him, as other Rokea WILL kill Betweeners on sight. And the single-minded nature of sharks leaves little room for explaining oneself.  Oh did I say finally SURPRISE I HAVE ONE MORE. The peaceful, matchmaking, extinct Apis don’t really fit SHAW aT ALL, and they’re EXTINCT, but I love the idea of him turning into a HUGE BLACK BULL. So here’s my explanation. The deal with the Apis is that when their numbers reached the single digits, a last handful of young Apis called Last Hope went into the Deep Umbra and haven’t been seen since. The “hook” in the 20th anniversary Changing Breeds book for their return is that maybe they finally came out the Umbra and back to the physical world. My idea is that he and HAVEN are mebers of Last Hope who have re-emerged in modern times to bring back their kind---something that rests entirely on SHAW’S shoulders, since Haven’s womb was cursed by the Wyrm. So it’s up to him to just breed with as many women and cows as possible. So he’s got an excuse! And as for why he’s so un-Apis, my explanation is that the trauma of their species being wiped out and the time that was allowed to fester in them during their long sleep in the Deep Umbra, drove Haven and Shaw to two extremes of Apis behavior. Haven took on the gentle caretaker side to the extreme, becoming so pacifistic she can’t fight or defend herself. Shaw went the other end, becoming so enraged and resentful that he’s become more like a bloodthirsty predator himself.  Eventually, they both fall to madness after re-emerging, but in the opposite ways that everyone expect. It’s the sweet gentle Haven who ends up Frenzying other of control in a berserker rage, rampaging across the city in massive bovine form, causing untold death and destruction until she’s put down. . . .while the cruel violent Shaw falls to a “cow version of Harano” sinking into a depression so profound he goes catatonic up until Haven’s own loss of sanity, at which point he throws himself on her horn. The story ends with the last of the Apis truly dead, but with a new hope for the species living on in Shaw’s children, who are showing signs of being Kinfolk or Apis themselves.

[star-duck]

The Case Files of Jeweler Richard - Book 7 Mini Summary

This won't be as extensive as my book 6 chapter 4 summary since Book 7 is the start of a multi-novel saga, so a lot of things that happens here could mean completely different things by the end of the saga. At this point I wouldn't know, but I want to note down details that can potentially be big later on. As usual, let me know if I get anything wrong!

Seigi begins his internship in Sri Lanka after failing the second part of the entrance test to be a civil servant. His parents gave him their blessing since they're already familiar with Richard, the guy who offered him the position. Richard supposedly is currently working in Ginza as usual. Shaul visits Seigi from time to time.

One day Seigi receives an email titled "Help Richard" in english, containing a ticket to a 6-day cruise ship trip that starts in Florida. The event is held by Gargantua group, a high-end jewellery company. The sender's name is "Jeffrey", but Seigi has doubts if this is the real Jeffrey. He tries to contact (the real) Jeffrey, but receives no reply. He also contacts Shaul who basically just tells him to do whatever he wants, so Seigi decides to go on the trip.

When he first gets on the cruise, he meets a guy who glares at him really badly. It leaves an impression, and Seigi wonders why this guy even recognizes Seigi, but he shrugs it off. Seigi then receives a call by Richard, he freaks out because he's both happy but also unable to tell Richard that he's also on board the same ship as Richard. Seigi doesn't want to disappoint Richard, so during his internship he's never called Richard... at all. During the call, Seigi walks around the ship, finds Richard on the deck, and surprises him from behind. Richard is extremely shocked and then his expression goes dark. He won't tell Seigi why though.

The two chat together, Richard absolutely refuses to tell Seigi about anything that's happening. The main event for them is a jewellery show event, where the group showcases all their new releases and more in this 100 year anniversary cruise. Richard initially asks Seigi to just not come at all and stay locked in in his room, but eventually gives in and lets Seigi go to the show under one condition: if anything happens to Richard, don't save him.

The next day, the jewellery show happens, and after viewing all the high-end showcases, Seigi goes to the buffet area. While eating, he's greeted by the director of Gargantua group, Amen Carlsbrook (アメン・カールスブルック). He asks Seigi to "share a bit of what's on Seigi's plate, because he wants to know Seigi's taste". Seigi confusedly gives him some of his sandwich, Amen happily takes a bite, laughs and walks away.

After a while, Seigi sees Amen.... holding Richard by his waist and touches him inappropriately. Seigi gets extremely angry, notices that everyone else in the room pretends to not see what happens, and gets angrier. He knows he can't create a mess here and risks Richard getting hurt, so he slowly walks closer until his eyes meet Richard's. They communicate through eye contact for awhile until Seigi yells "there's a dolphin!" that creates a minor ruckus among people in the room trying to look through the window. Seigi then dashes out with Richard who manages to get free from Amen's hands, and they run to an outdoor area.

(This whole scene is actually pretty amazing, with all the little eye contact exchanges and stuff, i hope someone can translate it later) 

Richard explains that Amen is a very very very distant relative of his, and he's always had an eye on "pretty things" including Richard. Amen initially sent the cruise invitation to both Richard and Seigi, two people in a room. Richard can't reject the invitation, but he also don't think he should bring Seigi, so he decided to go alone. Jeffrey calls Richard, explains that the email Seigi received wasn't from him, and tells Richard of how Amen and his second-in-command Malnuit Patel (マルヌイ・パテール) are on bad terms. Oh by the way, Richard arranged so that both boys have separate rooms (unlike what the invitation stated), he says he prefers to have his own room. lol.

Suddenly some guards appear, starts body searching Seigi, and finds out that he has a miniature of a jewellery show item in his pocket. They accuse him of stealing and brings him to the security room. There, a security staff basically talks him down and expects him to confess. He resists and Richard defends him, and then Amen walks into the room.

Amen says that errors like that happen, and he's willing to forgive it and accepts that it's his company's fault so long as he gets to spend the night drinking champagne with Richard. Seigi figures that he's being framed just to give Amen the opportunity to do this to Richard, and instead demands the security staff to check the security camera and prove his innocence properly. The group decide to just do that, so Amen, security staffs, and Richard stay to check the cameras, while Seigi is asked to leave the room.

Another security guard is assigned to Seigi. A chinese guy with brown two-block hairstyle, looks youthful like a k-pop idol (or so Seigi said), slightly shorter than Seigi, and speaks Japanese. His name is Vincent Rai, but he asks to be called Vince-san. Vince lets Seigi wander around so long as he doesn't try to contact people from outside the ship, so Seigi decides to check around the show again.

Vincent is cooperative with Seigi, even supplying Seigi with new information. What Seigi gathers so far is that Gargantua group is in the middle of M&A deal. Initially the plan was to work with a Chinese company, but suddenly Amen changed his mind and picked an American company. This angered his second-in-command, Patel, and there are rumors that Patel is trying to steal Gargantua group's designs by 3D scanning items displayed in the show. To nobody's surprise, Amen is known as a moody, sexual harasser, power harasser, etc etc.

It gets late and the two goes back to the security room. Seigi sees Amen trying to offer Richard cakes, a lot of items and untouched sweets scattered around in the room (I assume it's Amen trying to woo Richard), and a chessboard. Richard is simultaneously playing chess with Amen, rejecting his advances, and checking the security cameras. Amen is stuck in his turn in chess so Richard tells him to think about his move overnight. Seigi thinks what he does is like a modern day Scheherazade.

The security camera checking isn't done, but they put it on hold for the day and will continue tomorrow. Everyone goes back to their rooms except Seigi, who's staying there overnight.

The next day, Richard, security staffs, and Amen come back. Amen brings in the chessboard and flowers. ew. Anyway Seigi decides he wants to catch Patel 3D scanning the jewelleries in action, so he visits the showing area again. He really catches him, but Patel runs away to the ship's casino area. (Excuse me I have no knowledge of casino so if I get anything wrong pls do tell) He sits in a poker table where he can just never get up until he runs out of chips. Seigi decides to join the same table.

Slowly Seigi thinks he screws up, but suddenly Richard appears and asks the dealer to join Seigi as a team of two. Dealer says yes, and Richard leans close to Seigi's right, right hand on the table and left hand gripping the stool Seigi sits on. Seigi can't bring himself to look at Richard in that really close distance so he talks to Richard while still looking forward.

Every other player gives up until there's only Patel and Seigi-Richard left. Our boys win, and Patel reveals that the rumor about him stealing jewellery designs is started by Amen. He says that he's tired of Amen's actions so he decides to do just that. Amen appears and let his guards apprehend Patel, and they walk away. 

Later that day, Amen tells Seigi that the item he was accused of stealing is a fake, the real item just fell into some corner during the show, and that Seigi's completely innocent. Seigi knows that's an absolute bullshit and he really really want to punch the guy but decides to just smile and thank Amen.

Richard and Seigi eats in the restaurant buffet, then Vincent comes to greet them. It's revealed that Vincent is Richard's ex-assistant back in Hong Kong. Apparently they don't have a very good relationship, though Richard thinks highly of Vincent. Vincent brings Seigi to an outdoor area, leaving Richard behind, and starts to tell Seigi... a lot of interesting things.

First of all, Vincent tells Seigi that he should stop liking Richard, because that's probably better for Seigi's sake. He also warns him to stop the internship and go back to Japan since he suspects that Shaul uses him as a "dog collar" to Richard's "dog", meaning that Shaul really only wants something to prevent Richard from quitting his company since his family feud is over and he can safely go home. Not to mention, as the son of a noble, he doesn't need to work a day in his life if he wants to.

Vincent also says some very vague things about how Richard's sheer genius and kindness isn't something everyone can ever achieve, and it's pointless to hope to be like that, so it's not worth trying. Seigi replies that while half the reason he's in Sri Lanka is because he admires Richard, the other half is because he wants to get away from Tokyo for a bit after the deadbeat dad stalking incident. He thinks that's why his parents are so supportive of him. Seigi also doesn't intend to drop his dream of being a civil servant.

Vincent gives Seigi a contact number, under the condition that he shouldn't let Richard know. As Seigi is confused, Vincent walks away, passes by Richard who's walking towards Seigi. Richard then tells Seigi how much he values Vincent back in Hong Kong.

Finally it's the end of the cruise trip, and as our two boys are leaving, Amen greets Richard and tries to hug him. Seigi forcefully pushes himself in between the two, so Amen awkwardly ends up hugging Seigi.

Back in Sri Lanka, Seigi hears news about Amen being accused of sexual harassment, and the victims are bringing a lawyer from England. Because of this, M&A deal is temporarily stopped. He wishes the victims well.

While cooking wattalapan, Seigi receives a call from Richard. After small talks, Seigi tells Richard in english how much he wants Richard to be here with him and eat his home cooked food. Richard only replies with silence, and the chat continues. Suddenly, surprise, Richard... really is here, in Sri Lanka. Seigi is extremely happy and they both sit and eat wattalapan and royal milk tea.

Richard then informs that the reason why Seigi's personal information, email, and passport are leaked is because of Jeffrey's ex-secretary. Richard thinks Jeffrey messed up real bad. Richard also shows Seigi a video mail containing a little white girl talking in Japanese. Her name is Octavia, and she was a student of Richard and his ex-fiancee, Deborah Sahin. She says that Richard has made people (she treasures) suffer, so him and his two brother-cousins are going to pay for that. Then she pulls out a video call screen with Vincent in it.

Vincent starts with the same advice to Seigi, telling him it's better to go back to Japan. He then confesses that he was the one who put the stolen item into Seigi's pocket during the show, because his superior (one of the security staff) made him do it. Richard should've known this while checking the cameras, but Vincent says that he's not gonna ask why he protected him then, saying that Richard "never changes, such a good, lonely man".

Jeffrey apparently gets a similar mail, but in his version, the mail said thanks to his ex-secretary (presumably for leaking Seigi's information). Richard and Seigi goes back to small talks, and as Seigi refills the tea, he's thinking about how the kitchen in this house has enough cutleries and stuff for a house party. He dreams that one day he can hold a party with Richard's family, his own family and friends in Japan, and probably new people he meets in Sri Lanka.

Random trivia:

-Richard says that years ago, women in some high end parties were smitten by his looks enough that they held champagne drinking competition over it.

-Richard refers to Jeffrey as "Good-for-nothing talking wallet" again when he talks to Seigi.

-It's absolutely disgusting but Amen calls Richard with his childhood nickname, Ricky. To hear it from anyone but his close cousins and co send chills to my spine.

-Vincent got married while still in college. He's currently 26 years old, studying in America. He practices jeet kune do. Seigi suspects he likes anime and manga and that's why he can speak Japanese, but Vincent doesn't answer this question.

-Seigi goes to a net cafe during his "arrest" to look for more info regarding the group. During that, Vincent plays real time battle games until his eyes turn red....

-Half of Seigi aka Iggy's blog is about cooking. He blogs his wattalapan cooking trial too.

[gwoongi]

(abandoned) i don’t want it at all

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: sugar baby au, sugar-babies-scamming-the-same-daddy-au rating: mature themes words: 2.3k warnings: sugar babies a/n: i would have liked 2 finish this one and maybe i will one day but for now here is the incomplete first draft that makes me laugh still

His dorm for first year had been a prison-cell-box with a broken window and bunk beds, the stale smell of farts from his roommate who insisted on top-bunk and made his evenings and early mornings absolute hell- but hey, he’s getting a fancy degree at the end, so it’s worth it, right? Jeongguk’s not sure if it’s worth it anymore.

(1)

Jeongguk was broke.

It was his own fault - that’s the price you pay for enrolling in University, studying something he probably doesn’t actually need but loves. It’s all fine and dandy studying Music until he realises that famous musicians don’t become famous because they got a degree. Ask any musician how they made it big and they’ll reply with good luck and hard work, not some fancy degree that means nothing unless you’ve got the talent to be successful. Well shit, now it’s in perspective, Jeongguk’s spending all this money on a degree that’s probably not going to make a difference when the time comes.

Now he has a part-time job at a random pizza takeaway that makes no money because Dominoes opened up across the street a few weeks ago, and he’s barely making enough to buy him more than two packets of instant noodles at a time. His dorm for first year had been a prison-cell-box with a broken window and bunk beds, the stale smell of farts from his roommate who insisted on top-bunk and made his evenings and early mornings absolute hell- but hey, he’s getting a fancy degree at the end, so it’s worth it, right? Jeongguk’s not sure if it’s worth it anymore.

This evening, the library is fairly quiet. Across the stacks are small candles inside black lanterns, a Harry Potter-esque vibe filling the room as the clock rolls into ten. Jeongguk loves when the school year ends, because for the past week, it’s only been the sad and broke music kids doing exams, meaning the library is virtually empty now that everybody else has finished up. Jeongguk’s last exam was yesterday. Huffing out a sigh that turns one of the only other heads in the library in his direction, he stretches his arms up over his head and arches his head backwards.

“Where’re you going over summer?”

Yoongi is another sad and broke music student, a third-going-fourth year who met Jeongguk in the music society during Jeongguk’s first weekend at University. Leaning his chair back on two legs, he throws a paper ball into the air and catches it, not even looking at Jeongguk as he talks to him.

Jeongguk shrugs in reply, tapping his nails against his laptop. “Dunno. Home, I guess.”

“Any plans?” Yoongi asks. “Wanna go to Lollapalooza?”

“Can’t afford it,” Jeongguk sighs, as Yoongi forces out a, “me neither” in between a chortled laugh. “And I don’t know. Probably going to have to get another job.”

“Good,” replies Yoongi, yawning loudly. “You can’t keep working at that shithole. I’m your only friend, and even I go to Dominoes instead of where you work.” As an afterthought, he looks at Jeongguk with a small frown, “sorry.”

Shaking his head in reply, Jeongguk slumps in his chair and sighs once again. Yoongi’s just suddenly put it all into perspective for him; Yoongi’s his only friend, he works a job that barely puts a meal onto his plate, and it’s not going to get any easier. 

The ball in Yoongi’s hand begins to bounce again and Jeongguk glances over at the student librarian, who buries her head into the crook of her elbow and sleeps her way through her night-shift. It’s only Jeongguk, Yoongi and four others in the library right now; none of them are reading, none of them are doing anything particularly productive. Two students are tucked into an alcove pouring wine quite openly into small glasses with a board of chess unfolded out on the table, the others on computers, wishing the night away. Jeongguk just doesn’t want to go back to his dorm, to where his roommate and his loaded to the brim stomach of Chinese food and unhealthy diets is waiting for him.

“You planning on staying here all night again?” questions Yoongi. He probs his feet up onto the partitioner under the table, accidentally kicking Jeongguk’s ankle in the process. “Sorry,” he adds.

“Yep,” Jeongguk replies, popping the ‘p’. “I’d literally rather sleep on the boys changing room floors than go back to my dorm.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “That’s disgusting, don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m being deadass,” Jeongguk insists, his eyes blown wide. “Want to swap dorms for the night? Ten dollars and you’ll be dry heaving in the hallway before midnight.”

“I’ll pass. Either way, you know my apartment is always open for you,” Yoongi reminds him. “You’ve got a key. Come by once you’ve finished whatever it is you’re doing. My wifi’s out.”

Another sigh. Jeongguk’s not defeated his boredom yet, the twitch in his fingers to do something still there. If he goes to Yoongi’s apartment now, he’ll just annoy him with the need to do something energetic, and Jeongguk knows best that Yoongi values his quiet time on an evening.

“Okay. Well, I’ll stay here for a little bit, and come by when I’m done,” Jeongguk says, stifling a yawn that would otherwise expose the fact that he’s absolutely knackered. “I won’t make a sound.”

“You will, you always do, I just pretend not to notice because I love you.” Yoongi says I love you with a disgusted face, sticking his tongue out with a fake gag that Jeongguk knows just proves how much he cares. Yoongi’s good like that, the more subtle type of loving older brother that Jeongguk’s been deprived of all his life. “Don’t stay out too late.”

“Won’t.”

Yoongi picks himself up and irons the aches out of his shoulders. “Cool. Stay safe and smart, Guk.”

“I can’t do both,” he sighs sadly, and Yoongi collects his bag and affectionately throws the paper ball at Jeongguk’s head. It bounces off and lands near one of the bookshelves. Neither picks it up, and Yoongi leaves the library. It dawns on Jeongguk three minutes after Yoongi leaves him that he’s actually really fucking lonely. Add that to the big long list of things Jeongguk is this year: friendless, broke, sad and lonely. God, he needs a hobby.

He also needs money. Very badly. After opening his phone and banking app and realising that he’s so close to slipping into the red, Jeongguk refrains from spending what he has left on something fried and takeaway and opens Google. One click, a few types: How to make money fast. Google will know what to do.

Jeongguk scrolls. Take online surveys and get paid NOW! No. Review apps and earn money! Not enough phone memory to download an app to review it, he scrolls down. Lonely AND Horny? Get yourself a Sugar Daddy TODAY! Oh? He’s listening.

The blog that opens up as he clicks the link is somebody’s personal blog, the title in a gross and thick font that Jeongguk almost can’t read. They talk a while about why you shouldn’t become a sugar-baby, but Jeongguk remembers that one time Tana Mongeau did a storytime on how she had a Daddy and got a lot of money, and Jeongguk’s got assets. He’s smart, has abs on a good day, and his dick isn’t half bad looking. That’s what Yooa had said to him, anyway. Finally, there’s a hyperlink to Seeking Arrangements, and Jeongguk feels kind of overwhelmed.

At least once in their lives, everybody’s thought about being a Sugar Baby. Jeongguk definitely has, all the damn time when he’s sitting around at work doing nothing because they’re about as busy as one can expect for a pizza place with two stars and a rival Dominoes parallel from the front. He’s even read about experiences, where people meet their daddies or mommies on the streets or through apps- and there was even that one crazy story about somebody’s Principal becoming their sugar Daddy, or something, he can’t quite remember. Regardless, Jeongguk’s entertained this thought before.

He looks down at himself. If he really tried his best, he could be kind of good at it. Without sounding conceited, Jeongguk’s good looking. What lets him down at school is the fact that he always dresses lazily and ignores people, rejects requests to go out and then complains to Yoongi about not having friends who hang out with him. All he needs is to fix his appearance, upload his best photographs, and he could secure the bag quite easily.

Jeongguk fills in the boxes and makes an account. petkoo is what he decides to name himself, and he picks his best selfie off Instagram as an icon. He leans back, as if a look from far away will change the way it looks. It’ll do. Luckily for him, he’s into men and women, and it just so happens that American men are both the dumbest and easiest to please. Suddenly, he’s excited, his leg bouncing under the table until he hits his knee and stops. The student librarian raises her head quickly, afraid that a member of staff’s come in to supervise. They haven’t, and so she drops her head again. Ten fifty three, ish. Jeongguk blinks sleepily.

All that’s left to do is get his account verified, and life will be forever changed.

(He hopes).

(2)

Yoongi’s apartment is off campus, about fifteen minutes away if he’s walking. It’s small, but significantly bigger than Jeongguk’s dorm on campus, and decorated with whites and creams, big and open windows letting in golden light, when the time’s right. It’s the type of apartment you saw online, on Tumblr posts or in movies, looking like a perfect backdrop - sometimes, Jeongguk can’t believe that Yoongi lives here, and wakes up every morning to the view of the city below his window, power lines like train tracks connecting houses, dangling fairy-lights on the trelacing of his across-the-street-neighbour’s rooftop.

That being said, Jeongguk technically lives here, too. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s actually stepped foot in his dorm at the same time as his roommate; he only goes in there to collect things one at a time. Today, for example, he had dropped by to empty out his small and pathetic wardrobe and put it inside one suitcase, wheeling it right up to Yoongi’s front door with a bright smile that Yoongi couldn’t say no to. His couch in the living room was Jeongguk’s comfortable bed when it wasn’t cold and when it was, Yoongi would huff and offer an invite into his bed, because he loves Jeongguk like he’s his baby brother, and it would suck if he died from pneumonia, or something. He said that to Jeongguk once. Jeongguk smiled for ten minutes afterwards.

Harry Potter plays on TV, the fourth movie because it’s Jeongguk’s favourite and Yoongi’s a sick man who can’t say no. It’s around five, and Jeongguk’s literally been holed up in Yoongi’s apartment the entire day. The most sunlight that he got was when he walked out of Yoongi’s house to take the trash out, and even then, the bin was in the shadows and the sun never touched his skin once. He can see the sunlight through the window, which technically counts. Yoongi cringes and takes away a plate from the coffee table.

“You’re allowed to stay at my place, as long as you clean up after yourself,” he says with a huff. His nose upturns with a scrunch, “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“By choice!” Jeongguk adds, pulling a thread out from his sock. “They’re too much hard work.”

“You’re just fucking lazy,” Yoongi points out. He dumps the plate in the sink and comes back to Jeongguk. “You know that, don’t you?”

There’s a silence. Then a sigh, “Yeah.”

Jeongguk loves staying at Yoongi’s place, especially when Yoongi is feeling particularly soft and lets Jeongguk do whatever he wants, given he’s not going to get Yoongi a noise complaint in the morning. The movie continues to play undisturbed, the sight of Beauxbatons’ carriage swooping over towards the runway leaving Jeongguk with an open-mouthed smile on his face and Yoongi folds his arms, burying himself further into the sofa. On the coffee table, Yoongi’s laid out some snacks, both his phone and Jeongguk’s laying down flat because it’s supposed to keep Jeongguk distraction free, even though he’s the type of friend to never be on his phone around his friends unless he absolutely needs to be.

Another huff is in Yoongi’s mouth, begging to be huffed out. Over on the coffee table, Jeongguk’s phone lights up with his lock screen of Sansa Stark blurred out by a notification, the ringer on loud. Attention is pulled from Dumbledore to the light, Jeongguk’s brows lifting with interest but his eyes immediately back on the TV.

“Yoongi,” he calls out, and Yoongi glances over, “can you see who it’s from?” Could be his Mom, it could be important.

The huff is released. “Come into my house and boss me around…” Yoongi mutters under his breath and reaches for Jeongguk’s phone, pressing the home button to read the notification. He’s silent for a long moment, and Jeongguk’s so enthralled in the movie that he doesn’t notice, not until Yoongi looks at Jeongguk with a confused and funny look, his top lip curled to his nostrils as he blurts: “Why the hell are Seeking Arrangements telling you you’re profile’s ready?”

Jeongguk looks away so fast from the television that Yoongi’s almost frightened. His eyes are wide and twinkling, “They’ve finished it?”

“What the fuck.”

“Gimme!” Jeongguk splutters, his hand diving towards his phone urgently. “Bro...it’s been like, five days.”

Yoongi is bewildered. “Why do you have an account? What-why-when…?”

“I don’t know, I need money and I thought it would be funny,” Jeongguk shrugs. His thumb moves quickly across his phone screen. “I can’t believe they’re done. I’m gonna be rich, Yoongi.”

“Do you know how sketchy half the people on that site are?” Yoongi questions. “Plus they’re all old and perverted men.”

“Rich men.”

“Rich, old and perverted,” Yoongi nods. “Guk, I know I said you needed another job...but this doesn’t qualify. I’d rather you flip paper thin pizzas.��

[digimonnetwork-project]

Episode I

The seeds are sown...

“Shidou...Shidou....Isamu Shidou pay attention!” There was a dull thud as Isamu was thrown out of his thoughts by the sudden acquaintance of his head and the teacher’s book. At his old school, the boy in question would never have gotten in trouble for daydreaming in class, let alone assaulted for it.

“Gah! I’m sorry, Ms. Mazawa! It won’t happen again!” Isamu exclaimed, bolting from his chair and bowing repeatedly while he rubbed the back of his skull, certain a bump would develop where he’d been struck with the teacher’s book. He pictured something large and swelling, hopefully enough to get him out of math next period, but would go down before soccer practice after school.

“Honestly!” She huffed, twirling her graying hair in exasperation, “Shidou, this is the third time this week. You know I hate doing this, but if you can’t be bothered to pay attention to the lesson I’m going to have to keep you after school.”

Aside from the streaks of grey in her hair, Ms. Mazawa didn’t look more than a few years passed thirty, but her barbaric teaching methods made her seem centuries older. Isamu suspected she might be one of the old monsters of folklore, maybe Arikura-no-baba or Osakabe, but Isamu really didn’t care enough to try to research which one she could be.

“Yeah right you don’t like doing it, you keep kids after school all the time.” A chill ran up Isamu’s spine as Ms Mazawa’s irritated scowl deepened into a glare, making him overly aware of the fact that he had said this out loud instead of keeping it in his head.

She swatted him upside the head with her book a second time. “Shidou, I was just going to keep you in class for thirty minutes to reread today’s lesson, but your smart mouth just earned you a detention spent setting up the cafeteria for the archery club’s fundraiser tonight!” She declared.

“Y-yes ma’am!” Isamu stuttered, getting a giggle out of his classmates, “I’m sorry ma’am!”

“I hope you are.” Ms. Mazawa replied and turned to go back to the front of the class.

Isamu sighed and returned to his seat, brushing brown bangs out of his face and looking at his desk. At his old school, his classmates would have been laughing with him, not at him, he thought reminiscing, again, about his former life. The bangs he just moved fell right back into his eyes. He really needed to find something to keep his hair in place.

“Psst! Isamu!” He turned around at the sound of his name and saw his classmate Masato Namura give him a thumbs up. Beside him, Aki Mikami pushed up his glasses and awkwardly waved at him.

Isamu gave a small nod of acknowledgment to the both of them before facing the front of the class. The two of them were nowhere near the top of the food chain in this school’s social hierarchy, but they were the only friends he had here. He turned his head back out the window, catching his phantom reflection in the glass. How was it that he only had two friends? At his old school he was the cool popular kid that was friends with everyone, how did he become so bad at connecting to people?

In the glass, Isamu noticed more than just his own blue-eyed reflection. Just outside the door way he could make out the faint image of someone standing just outside their classroom. He looked that way just to be sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. Yes, there was a girl standing there, waiting to be invited in.

“Now that that’s out of the way, class...” Ms. Mazawa said, turning to the door, “We have a new student transferring today. Please give her a warm welcome. You can come in now, dear.”

The girl stepped in front of the class with her head held high. The students all have short gasps of amazement at the fact that she dared come in without her uniform on. The transfer student was wearing casual clothes, ankle length beige pants with green trimming that matched her Chinese style shirt  and held her bag in front of her like a purse, rather than a backpack. Oddly, the thing that stood out about her wasn’t her lack of uniform, but the fact that she was wearing a white fingerless glove on her left hand with what appeared to be a strange digital watch over it.

“Hello.” She said to them, pulling a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “My name is Ju Ling, my family and I just moved here from Bejing. I don’t have my school uniform yet because of a mix up that gave me the wrong size.” She looked over at Ms. Mazawa who waved her hands for her to continue, “I'm an only child who likes computers, though I’m not necessarily very good with them. Thank you for having me, I look forward to joining your class.”

With a bow, she concluded her introduction and looked at Ms. Mazawa again who directed her to take the open seat next to Isamu. They whispered something to each other and Ju giggled as she came forward, Ms, Mazawa had probably instructed her to make sure he didn’t start daydreaming again. Isamu sighed and began scratching notes on the lecture.

This was going to be a long day...

When the last bell of the day rang, Isamu almost forgot about his detention and started out the door with Aki and Masato when Ms. Mazawa reminded him of his unwanted duties. Basically he was setting up chairs and tables for an hour and half, rather than the half hour lesson he would have gotten if he hadn’t mouthed off,  but still that was an hour and a half Isamu wasn’t spending at the park practicing with Aki and Masato.

Another defeated sigh escaped him, tryouts for the Soccer team were a few weeks away, Masato was the right midfielder and Isamu had been the striker for the team at his old school, but Aki had never played an official game. Isamu felt terrible that he had to miss out on training Aki, the blond haired boy wasn’t awful by any means but he needed as much support as possible.

The archery club supervisor met him outside the door where he saw another of his classmates, Kaiyo Nakano, lined up as a volunteer. Isamu knew she was a volunteer, number one because he knew she hadn’t gotten in trouble, secondly because Kaiyo seemed to volunteer to help out with every club, though she was only an active member of the chess club.

“Hey, Shidou, I’ve already signed us both in” Kaiyo greeted, taking the opportunity to partner up with him, “It’s easier for me to work when I’m not in a skirt, so I’m going to change out of my uniform before we start. You go ahead and change too, that way you can just leave right after we’re done.”

“Oh? Okay, thanks.” Isamu replied, he hadn’t even known they were supposed to sign in as volunteers, but with Ms. Mazawa nowhere in sight, he supposed there had to be some way for them to prove he’d actually done the detention work. Deciding not to waste time, Isamu went to his locker at a slight jog and grabbed his casual clothes to change in the nearby boys bathroom.

As he swapped clothes Isamu’s text alert beeped and he juggled his phone to check it as long as there was no one to scold him for texting when he should be working. The message was from Gorou, a friend from his old school. Isamu’s heart skipped a beat, he’d messaged Gorou about hanging out over the weekend three days ago, what had taken him so long to reply? To his disappointment, Isamu opened the text to find a simple “Sorry, can’t come ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” in response to his invitation.

Isamu dejectedly put his phone away without replying and finished changing so he could get to work. He stepped out of the stall sporting a pair of capris and white shirt with the word “REAL” printed in english lettering on the front, and a black track jacket with blue stripes running down the sleeves. He folded his uniform into his school bag and started back to the gym, running into Kaiyo again on the way.

Apparently she’d had the same idea to change in the girl’s bathroom. She was dressed in a pale pink shirt with the words ‘Be Kind” written under a graphic resembling a heart made out of an arrow, an army green jacket, light shorts, and long striped socks.

“Looking sharp. Leave your bag by the door and don’t forget to pick it up when you leave” She winked at him with a friendly, teasing tone and led the way back, and took him over to a supply closet once they dropped off their bags. She went on to explain “It's actually not a lot of work to get this all set up, but it takes two people to carry one table, sometimes more for the big ones. Mr. Kojima and Mrs. Arai will tell us where to put them, we just have to coordinate and do the heavy lifting.”

She wasn’t kidding about it being heavy, Isamu could hear her grunt as she pulled a table out from the closet and was soon grunting himself as he grabbed the other end and helped her lift it away. “And you volunteered to do this?” He blurted without thinking, he really needed to stop that, it usually got a laugh in his old town, but around here, it usually got him in trouble.

But to his surprise, Kaiyo did laugh, “What can I say? I like to keep busy. It sure beats going straight to my homework.” She said, they both paused for a moment while the supervisors instructed them on where to move the table to. Kaiyo showed him how to set it up, and they were quick to return to the supply closet to get another table.

For a little while, Isamu actually felt like he was finally connecting to people as Kaiyo introduced him to other students from around the school. He’d never needed anything but soccer in his life for a long time, but as he was socializing with the volunteers and other kids in detention, Isamu thought Kaiyo probably had the right idea by volunteering with other clubs outside of his personal interests.

It didn’t take long to get everything set up, and as much fun as this had surprisingly turned out to be,  Isamu was the first one out the door when everything was done- after just barely an hour rather than the hour and a half they’d thought it would take. What were the odds that Aki and Masato were still at the park? Isamu didn’t want to leave them hanging, and considered texting them when he found there was no need to.

They were waiting outside the school gates for him, already changed out of their uniforms. Masato had dark grey jeans with yellow stripes on the side, and a vest half zipped over an old graphic tee from the 80s. His dark brown hair was kept out of his bangs with a red bandana that, for some reason, Ms. Mazawa let him where in class.

“Man, they sure kept you in there long enough, did’ja have to clean the toilets with a toothbrush or something?” Masato griped as he picked his bag off the ground and stood back from the school gate.

“Ms. Mazawa told him to help set up for the archery club, I don’t think that’s what they do in detention.” Aki told him  and pushed up his glasses, his white jacket was zipped up all the way and had an orange stripe running horizontally across his chest and shoulders. He had dark green pants tucked into long boots, and his bag was strapped over his shoulder.

“What would you know about it? You’ve never gotten a detention!” Masato teased, lightly punching Aki’s shoulder, playfully, Aki stepped on his foot in response.

“He will if he keeps hanging out with you.” Isamu joked back and turned to Aki, “And yeah, I was totally scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush, all detention kids have to!”

The look on Aki’s face was priceless, it took all of his will power not to laugh, “Y-you’re kidding, right!?” His glasses slipped further down his nose and once more he had to push them back into place.

“About the toilets or about you getting in detention because of me?” Masato slinging his arms around each of their shoulders, at which point Isamu couldn’t help laughing, ruining the joke entirely.

“Well, never mind.” He said, freeing himself from Masato and  sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Sorry to have kept you guys waiting, you still free for practice or-”

“-Shidou!” All three of them turned to look, surprised to hear Kaiyo calling for Isamu.

She  was running toward them from the school entrance. She’d been a volunteer and was free to go whenever, but Isamu was under the impression that she was going to stick around to decorate too. His face flushed a little when he saw the reason she was running to catch up with him.

“What’s up Nakano, can’t you see we’re trying to escape from this place?” Masato trilled with a mischievous grin.

Kaiyo skidded to a stop and panted for a second before she looked at Isamu and smiled as she handed him the bag she was carrying with her. His bag, that he must have left at the fundraiser despite her warning not to. “You forgot this.” She winked at him, “Tanizaki wanted to hang it from the basketball hoop but I told him it was mine. You owe me big time.”

“Ah, th-thanks Nakano.” Isamu replied, taking his bag back and flipping it over his shoulders.

She waved her hand dismissively, “You can just call me Kaiyo if you want.” she said, hiking her own bag onto her shoulders and turned away, heading down another street, before shouting over her shoulder  “See you guys in class tomorrow! Don’t forget your homework again, Namura or Ms. Mazawa might actually make you eat lunch in the hall this time!”

Masato made a face while Isamu quirked his eyebrow at the bizarre sounding punishment, “It’s worse than it sounds,” Masato said, “Anyway, I guess I better get home and do that homework. You guys alright practicing without me?”

“Actually, I’d better do the homework too.” Aki said, pushing up his glasses and looking at the ground, “After all we have that math test coming up and it’s my worst subject.”

“You say that about every subject.” Isamu rolled his eyes slighting, very aware that he needed the practice for the math test more than he needed practice for the soccer try-outs, “Man, sorry about the detention guys, I hate to have you waiting for me and not have time to actually practice.”

Masato clapped his shoulder, “It’s alright, we can practice for a while and then do homework together at the park. I fail, you fail, what do you say? We can always practice more this weekend, you guys free?”

“I’m always free.” Aki replied with a shrug. “And studying together would probably be good for all of us, too” they both turned to Isamu, waiting to hear his answer.

His  fingers brushed his phone and thought about Gorou, but remembered that his friend claimed to be too busy to hang out this weekend- somethin he was never too busy for when they lived on the same side of the river. “Yeah, I’m free too. Who wants to race- huh?”

Isamu paused mid sentence, staring up at the building across the street where the air had seemed to distort for a second. Aki and Masato both looked the same way, but there was nothing to see. Isamu quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light, “Sorry, seeing things I guess.” He said, though he couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of being watched, “Anyway, I’ll race you guys to the park!” He pushed his way passed them and took off at a run, giving them no choice but to give chase.

Isamu laughed as he ran, Masato quickly started gaining on him with Aki no more than a few feet behind. The park was a few blocks away, and all three of them were exhausted from the run, “I’m.. so...slow…” Aki complained as they panted by the water fountain.

Masato checked the clock on his phone, “Actually... I think we... broke our record” He said.

Isamu clapped Aki’s shoulder, coughing slightly, “And you... kept up, just fine...I had guys on my team… At my old school...who were much slower…” He told him.

It took a few more minutes to convince Aki that he had done well, before they all agreed to sit at a picnic table and complete one page of homework before they started practice. Working together they actually managed to complete two pages before they remembered they wanted to practice some, too. Aki had a duffle bag which he kept his swimming trunks and towel in, as well as his uniform and clothes when he needed to change, and now it had become home to their soccer ball.

Between homework and practice, Isamu forgot about the strange distortion he’d seen outside the school, but while they were practicing the feeling of being watched started to creep up on him again. Not wanting to frighten Aki or Masato, he ignored the feeling and focused entirely on being the instructor, teaching both of them a trick he’d picked up at his old school to pass the ball between teammates while feigning a shot at the goal to confuse the other team.

At long last, they’d had enough practice and went back to their homework where it was harder to ignore the feeling of being watched. It was starting to alarm Isamu greatly, “Man, guys, I’m starting to get really tired” He sad, stretching to try to avoid suspicion of why he was suddenly backing out of the study group, “I think I’m finally getting this, so I’m going to head home for dinner and finish up tonight. I can text if I need extra help right?”

Masato nodded, “Yeah, it’s starting to get late, too” he said, “My aunt will get worried if I don’t at least call.” Aki agreed, and they all got up to leave the park- the feeling following Isamu, though neither Aki nor Masato seemed to be concerned. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to put them in danger so he tried to discreetly hurry them along.

However, the three of them spent a few extra minutes talking on the side of the road and finalizing plans for their weekend meet up before they finally parted ways. Aki and Masato lived three blocks away from each other, but Isamu lived in an apartment in the opposite direction.  

Having lived down here long enough to have learned a few short cuts, Isamu avoided the crowded main roads by taking less used alleyways, hoping to lose whatever was haunting him. This particular street was a back road behind a few convenience stores that occasionally company trucks used for deliveries, but Isamu rarely saw anyone actually using them.

His text alert beeped again, making him jump slightly, but he stopped to check it, this time the message was from another of his friends from his old school canceling their plans to hang out the next day. Isamu frowned and put his phone in his pocket without texting back. He’d only moved across the river for his father’s new job. Why was it so hard for everyone to meet him?

The boy became so lost in his thoughts that his sense of alertness started to fail. Isamu had his phone out again, looking up what assignments he had to for his classes and trying to decide what he needed to complete after dinner and what could be done during lunch tomorrow when he noticed movement. Isamu looked up, now absolutely certain that it was not just his imagination, or a trick of the light.

Where he had seen nothing but an odd ripple from the corner of his eye,  something melded into view. It looked like a giant chameleon wearing military gear. “Found a good one!” A raspy voice called out from the monster’s direction. Wait- that thing wasn’t the one speaking was it?

Faster than Isamu could make a run for it, a long slimy tongue lashed out of the creature’s mouth and wrapped around his body. He screamed and wiggled desperately, but was yanked closer to the chameleon’s open maw. Isamu closed his eyes, not wanting to see his upcoming doom, and wondering if the creature would kill him first or if it intended to swallow him whole and alive.

Neither option appeared to be the case, however as mere meters from the beast’s jaws, the tongue suddenly lifted him high. Isamu hardly dared to open his eyes again, but eventually had to when the raspy voice demanded he did, confirming that it was in fact the giant chameleon that was speaking.

Isamu struggled to breathe in the firm grip of the tongue, but did as commanded and opened his eyes to look at the creature, which was scrutinizing him the same way he might inspect the latest electronics while deciding what was better quality.

“Yes, yes. You’ll do.” The monster muttered,  Isamu whimpered as the tongue started to retract back toward the creature’s mouth, certain that this time he was going to be lizard chow, but to his relief, Isamu’s toes brushed the ground and he was released. Isamu toppled over, landing face first onto the pavement. “You’ll do just fine.”

Instinct told Isamu to get up and run, but logic reminded him that the creature would catch him with its tongue again if he tried...and maybe this time he would end up as dinner. “I...I’ll do just fine for what...?” Isamu asked, clearly food wasn’t what this monster was after, for now at least, but he had no idea what it really wanted from him.

The answer came with a massive foot being pressed onto his back, pinning him to the ground. “My Tamer!” The creature replied, “I am Chamelemon! And I need a leader like you to make me stronger!”

Chamelemon spoke as if Isamu should know what that meant, “You seem plenty strong to me!” He said, and wound up again regretting his tendency to say what was on his mind, when the pressure on his back increased as Chamelemon pushed him harder into the ground.

“Don’t be a fool! I barely scrapped through the war on my own! I need you to be my Tamer!” Chamelemon growled, “Now, make me stronger or I’ll kill you!”

Isamu wasn’t really in a position to say no, even if that’s all he wanted to do. Who did this thing think he was, what did he mean leader? Sure he had taken charge of Soccer practice but that hardly made him a leader. What could someone as powerless as Isamu do to make Chamelemon stronger? Two shapes appeared in Isamu’s peripheral vision, a black one and a white one. Female voices cried out strange words.

"Moon Surge!”

“Sun Bash!”

He managed to turn his head just enough to see the white shape, some kind of dog-like animal, shoot a small blast of light energy at Chamelemon. Though Isamu couldn’t see it, the black one on the other side of him was doing the same thing. The combined blast was powerful enough to knock Chamelemon back, allowing Isamu to scramble away.

With a good look at his rescuers now, Isamu realized that they were an almost identical pair. The canine features extended only to their faces and body shapes, their ears were long and tipped with tuffs of fur that were red on the black creature and blue on the other. They had long tails with spikes on the end.

“Ju! Get ready” The white one called, glancing behind her, passed Isamu forcing him to look as well.

He was surprised to see the girl that had transferred into class just that day. Ju looked equally surprised to see him, but didn’t dwell on it long as she focused on whatever it was that the white creature had told her to prepare for. Ju lifted her arm, pressing buttons on her digital watch.

The black one dodged a lashing from Chamelemon’s tongue, “Leptomon! Ju! We need to act now!”

“Don’t rush her, Cannismon!” the other replied, shooting another blast of energy from her mouth.

“All set!” Ju called, looking up from her glove, “Do it!”

The small dogs leaped between Isamu and Chamelemon, and their bodies began to glow. “Eclipse Snare!” they cried in unison and bounded forward, black and white energy trailed their every move.

Chamelemon attempted to squash them with both his tongue and his claws but Cannismon and Leptomon were much faster than him. The pair encircled him several times before their glow diminished and they sprinted away . The trail of energy they’d left behind tightened like a noose, trapping Chamelemon in its coil!

Ju took a few long strides forward, holding her gloved hand in front of her, “Initiate data conversion!” She shouted.

A computerized voice replied “Data conversion initiating.” A beam of light shot out of Ju’s watch and struck the giant lizard. Chamelemon started to pixelate, “Conversion in progress.”

“No!” Chamelemon struggled in his bonds, much like Isamu had while trapped by his tongue, and just as fruitlessly. Bits of his body broke off in small pixels and were dragged down the beam into the watch. The process was slow at first but picked up speed, and soon there wasn’t enough of Chamelemon left to struggle.

When he vanished entirely, the beam returned to Ju’s watch and the computer voice announced, “Conversion complete. Scanning new data....Scan complete. Digimon identified: Chamelemon. Would you like to view Chamelemon’s profile?”

“Not now.” Ju said and lowered her arm, pressing another button on her wristwatch.

The air around them pixelated in a similar manner to how Chamelemon had vanished, but aside from that, nothing seemed to change. “Digital Construct deactivated.” The computer said.

Ju then turned to Isamu, “You alright?” She asked.

Isamu’s mouth was hanging open in shock, “Wha- Did you kill it?” He asked.

Ju laughed, “What? No! No, I never kill Digimon. I just converted his data into something a little easier to carry.”

Isamu jumped when two small bodies suddenly pressed up against him, “If a Tamer converts a realized Digimon back into scan data, they can take them back to the Network, or even all the way back to the Digital World!” The one that had been called Leptomon said, bumping her head against Isamu’s hand like she wanted him to pet her.

“We always send the hostile ones back to the Digital World. If they attack humans in this world they’re not going to be welcome in the Network.” Cannismon added, wagging her tail, but keeping back from Isamu.

“Digimon? Network? Digital World?” Isamu looked at Ju for some kind of explanation, but the transfer student was busy giggling.

Finally she stepped over and offered him her hand to help him back to his feet. “That’s a little hard to explain, but Cannismon and Leptomon seem to like you, and they don’t usually warm up to strangers. Maybe Chamelemon was onto something, choosing you.”

“I don’t understand.” Isamu exclaimed, digging his hands into his pocket, “Choosing me for what?”

“To be a Digimon Tamer.” She replied, lifting her glove to him so that he could see that it was not a watch on her wrist. She lowered it and held her hand out again, this time in greeting. “I know I introduced myself this morning, but I think we should have a more proper one. I’m Ju Ling, I’ve been a Tamer for three years. These are my partners, Cannismon, and Leptomon.”

“Nice to meet you!” Leptomon said with a sing-song-voice, Cannismon gave the same response in a less enthusiastic tone.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Isamu Shidou.” He replied, shaking Ju’s hand and looking at the creatures at their feet for a moment before turning his eyes back to Ju. “What’s a Tamer?”

Next episode

[arcxnumvitae]

Part 2 from this

This is where structure goes out the window because I realize that by sticking to my timeline approach in the last post, I realized that there wasn’t any, like, good and natural way to segue in non-timeline stuff. Like hobbies. So brief detour, Huaxiu’s hobbies are things that are traditionally feminine, especially for someone who is like 4,000 years old so was alive and well when “women’s work” and “men’s work” were really kicking people’s asses (but obligatory note here: both Confucianism and Daoism/Taoism look like they entered the field not long after Huaxiu (Confucianism: Confucius was around and philosophizing around 550 BCE. Daoism: Lao Tzu was kicking it around 500 BCE. Huaxiu’s old ass: Was created in 484 BCE)). Basically, those schools of thought didn’t influence him or the dragons all that much in terms of what were the roles/expectations of men and women. They didn’t really have much of a chance anyways considering one of Huaxiu’s teachers and superior is a woman and the other identified as neither. 

But getting back to the topic, Huaxiu’s love of cooking, cleaning, embroidery, and other tasks delegated to “women’s work” existed even back then, along with his penchant for beautiful, well-decorated clothes and wearing things like jewelry and hairpins. Decidedly goes against the norm. I don’t have a “conclusion” or “reason” for this paragraph specifically, just making an observation and wondering. Also of random note, in the yin and yang of things, dragons are supposed to represent the masculine yang energy, and phoenixes, fenghua, the yin. So, I don’t know, more interesting gender stuff there. Another thing I just remembered is that the two characters of Huaxiu’s name, hua for flower and xiu for handsome, elegant, refined, so on are a traditionally feminine character and traditionally masculine character but in one name. Would love to say that I 4-D chess predicted how Huaxiu’s own mixing of traits would go when I was picking out the characters for his name, but I didn’t.

Back to the timeline and another crux of my ramblings, the most interesting thing I noted (and we’re taking a big timeskip leap here) is that when it comes to their wedding traditions, as Huaxiu and Vasilios have a wedding with traditional Chinese, er, traditions. And those traditions have very gendered roles, things the groom does and things the bride does that of course would require the ceremony to be altered to fit two grooms. And their odd family structure. But aspects of the bride Huaxiu takes the role of for, eh, a variety of reasons. A. Because he knows he’d look Very Good and that’s the main goal (i.e. wearing the veil, having women’s robes made instead of the simpler, less form-fitting male robes, painting on a huadian (though that’s not specifically a wedding tradition), the outfit change from the ceremony to the reception, and so on) Or B. It’d be fun and is also too integral a part of the ceremony to leave out (the part where the groom goes to pick up the bride from her residence and has to “bribe” the bridesmaids or pass their tests to be able to reach the bride). This is also one of those sections where I don’t have a conclusion or reason, I mean the reason’s right there, I just found it interesting.

Obligatory mention for when his and Vasilios’ daughter Xianzi comes around, but nothing exactly new manifests aside from Huaxiu’s ridiculous case of baby fever both before and after her arrival. And that’s something that I think is just all him.

The conclusion I did reach was that these nicer traits were probably always a part of Huaxiu, and simply ended up sort of intentionally locked away after his bout with Jiao in an effort to always seem in control, stemming from a traumatizing time when he had none. And it was only when he became comfortable with someone, Vasilios and Minglian, that he unconsciously began to let those parts of him that he deemed vulnerable begin to show. And it’s also important to note that Huaxiu himself doesn’t necessarily actually deem any of his caring nature ‘weak’, he has no shame about it whatsoever. The only real embarrassment for him arises out of taking note that the “big man on campus, Mr. Eligible Bachelor”, ended up such a sap for his family just because of how surprising the whiplash was for even him. It’s just that due to his trauma he’d begun to see it that other people would deem that weak, and he absolutely cannot let anyone think him weak, so he will play up his more abrasive parts in order to achieve that. I don’t have a proper ending, I can feel my brain scrambling even further any semblance of structure this had, and this isn’t a school paper where I’d get graded on how good my conclusion sentence was so I’ll stop here.

Tl;dr: Through the power of love Huaxiu was able to open up and be more of what he deemed as vulnerable without shame.

[multiocblog]

Greetings~! Welcome to my blog!

Just a little introduction, and some rules along with it~! ^^

Hello~! My name is Brianna but you may call me Bree~ I like to write stories, and create my own characters and such- It's what makes me happy~! And I love when I get to act like my OCs and interact with people! So, I created this blog~! (Sorry this post is quite long so be ready to read-)

To start out this blog, I have 7 OCs I will be making introductions for, so you can find out some about them, and interact with asks!

I have 2 OCs from Black Butler, 3 OCs from Diabolik Lovers, and 2 OCs from My Hero Academia! (I have many many more OCs soon to be added to this blog once I get consistent and completely settled in!)

Theres a brief intro to each at the bottom of the page!

((I write better than what I did there I swear-))

In the meantime, here are the

Rules:

No NSFW asks PLEASE! They make me very uncomfortable, and any asks I think might be dirty in any way, I will not answer.

Please make sure you put the OCs name in parenthesis or brackets so I am aware of which OC you are talking too! Ex." [To Arabella] I love your outfit! "

Please be kind! I will not accept hate comments or anything of the sort towards a subject, opinion, or an OC!

PLEASE "tag" or label accordingly to anything, slightly, definitely, or mildly triggering, even if you're not sure! I just want to make sure that everyone can scroll through my blog without having to be weary! Ex. [TW death]

Please do not flood the askbox or get mad that I don't answer right away! I can't always be online for I have a life to live outside of social media. This is purely for fun! ^^

Please no asks about r*ape, inc*st, pe*dophilia, or anything of the sort! Talk of those subjects will not be tolerated on this blog!

I am the admin to this account, therefore, I am allowed to reject or ignore ANY ask if need be.

((Rules will be updated, should the need arise.))

Bye for now~!

((OC info under read more!!))

Kyoko Komori (DL) ((OC based off the anime. Though I've heard plenty about the games, I have not yet played them, so if I get some things wrong I apologize in advance.))With Kyoko everything is the same. Yui has Cordelias heart and such and was supposed to be sent to the brothers. However, in this universe, Yui has an older sister, one year apart, whom has also been adopted, except she knows it. When she overhears something about her younger sister, her only sister, being sent away to vampires, she decides to take her place. To protect her.

Alyssa Freeman (MHA) ((I have not watched the entirety of MHA yet, and really I don't plan too anytime soon. So if I get anything wrong please correct me, and spoilers to the anime for me are welcomed. Let's just act like I've seen it all-)) Alyssa hates villains. And heros for that matter. All of them. When her apartment was destroyed from a casualty in a battle, Alyassa labeled heros as reckless and careless of the people around them. Herself and her little brother where heading back to the apartment, when she saw it crumbling down. Her parents and grandparents still inside, along with her best friend who was going to surprise Alyssa with a visit. Now she lives on the streets, doing whatever she can to provide for herself and her little brother.

Ongaku Yamada Aizawa (MHA) ((Again, haven't seen it, let's just pretend I have. Also this OC is in result of a ship. I don't really ship it, but I thought both their powers together would be cool so I thought, why not?)) When Ongaku was young, she was always bullied in 1st and 2nd grade for having two dads. One time, she got in trouble for heavily injuring a student with her voice quirk. You can insult her all you want, but not her dads. So, in 3rd grade, she kept a lie she created, that she only has one dad, Erasure Head Shota Aizawa, and that her mother died when she was born. Turns out the lie worked pretty well, people loved her and she was seen as an icon for having a prohero as a father. Shes was usually a quiet person, kept to herself, no friends, only spoke when spoken too. It was just her, her drawings and her music in her headphones. To this day, she keeps the lie, and keeps her distance, even at her new school, in U.A. (She also develops a major crush on Tenya Iida while there.👀)

Lilly and Lila Sakamaki (DL) ((Just thought I'd make one description for both bc they're twin sisters. This is also result of a ship. Ayato x Yui.)) Lilly and Lila are polar opposites despite their similar looks. Lila loves the cutesy, pink, flower stuff, and Lilly is all "tough" and "all that" (When shes really insecure-) Lilly is extremely protective over her sister, and possive too. She doesn't let any man even glance in her general direction. Basically if a man wants to ask Lila out, hes gonna have to go through some interrogation. Lila loves her sister deeply, and is basically like her sisters personal therapist. Lilly will only vent and show emotion around Lila. Lila tries to get her sister Lilly into pink, but with no prevail. Typically, you'll find Lilly hanging out with "Uncle Reiji", for she has a secret interest in his experiments and such. She'll also cuddle with Uncle Shu whenever she has time. And Lila loves hanging out with Uncle Kanato and Uncle Laito. She'll have tea partys with Kanato all the time. Lilly always tries to get Lila away from Laito. She says he's "demented" and "weird". But, Lila doesn't listen and hangs out with him anyway. Laito and Kanatos typical nickname for Lila is, Lilac or Little Flower. Both twins are vampires. Yui always teaches them about God and how to be selfless and kind, while Ayato plays sports with Lilly and cute video games (like Animal Crossing) with Lila.

Arabella Phantomhive (BB) ((This OC is placed in the future, and based off a ship, Ciel X Lizzy. Please be aware that, even though my OC speaks multiple languages, I do NOT. So, as bad as it sounds, I'll probably use Google Translate if I must use another language-😅 ) When Ciel and Lizzy are older and married, they have a little girl. Half human. Half demon. Arabella was taught how to be a lady, ballet, and sword fighting by her mother. And she was taught chess, ballroom dancing and more sword fighting by her father. Instead of going to a school, little Ara was homeschooled, by Sebastian, the Phantomhive Butler. He taught her multiple languages, such as Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, and her personal favorite, French. Time skip to the age of 10, she saw her mother murdered before her, and her father taken by some strange light beings. Having been raised by Sebastian since then, now she's 17, running the Funtom company, and determined to avenge her mother and find her father. :)

Robert Trancy (BB) ((This OC correlates with the Arabella OC, and is in the same storyline.)) Robert J. Trancy was his sweet Arabellas betrothed since birth. Even though it is set to be an arranged marriage, Robert always had a crush on his Arabella, and was awaiting the day to marry his beloved. Robert is a sensitive and kind boy, but sarcastic and joking all the same having been raised by Alois Trancy. He has no idea of whom his mother is, and was always told she died when he was born. At the age of 6, it was at a party when he saw his father dead on the floor of the long corridor. He didn't exactly see his fathers death, but he heard it, and knew exactly who did it. Ciel Phantomhive. He was determined to make his revenge. Having made a contract with Claude, his fathers old butler, he now lives alone in the manor, sending all the old servants away, except Claude. He makes frequent visits to his sweet Blue Rose however. He's a very insecure boy, full of anger, bitterness, jealousy, and sadness, but hides it well behind humor and love for his bride-to-be.

That was very long- and for that I apologize-