i just need to get the school badge and blue shirt

Looks like lightning

A giant alien spaceship castle you would assume have more then enough bathrooms. However despite the size there were only four in the whole castle one in each wing. Apparently Altean’s didn’t need to go as often as humans did so they never bothered to fit every area with a bathroom.
Of course Allura had her own personal bathroom in her chambers and Corran used the one in the east side of the castle leaving the five Paladins to share the one closest to their collective rooms.
Shiro at first attempted to create a time chart so that everyone would have time to get ready in the morning and get in a shower before bed.
However he quickly learnt that asking a group of teenagers not to take hours in the bathroom was like expecting a pig to sprout wings and fight the Glara.
Keith spends the least time in the morning, only bothering to brush his teeth before going out to train, it’s the evenings that he takes his time, spending almost an hour in the shower letting the warm water work its magic on his sore aching muscles.
Hunk takes his time whenever he uses the bathroom. Often singing or having imaginary arguments with himself.
Pidge spends hours in there. Often taking their computer in with them and ends up losing themselves so completely in their work that they could leave for five minutes to use the toilet and not be seen until dinner.
However out of everyone Lance is by far the worst. He spends hours in there every morning and evening, he will often run out during training just to look in the mirror. Because of this more then a few times a fellow Paladin has been forced to run across the castle in search of another bathroom.
After yet another close call Pidge had enough.
“He’s just so vain!” They snapped walking into the common area where Keith was sat sharpening his knife.
“I know but there’s not much we can do about it” he shrugged not even bothering to look up as the green paladin flopped down on the couch next to him.
“We could complain to Allura or maybe Shiro?” They offered voice slightly muffled by having their face buried in the cushions.
“Wouldn’t work. They already know and the worst that would happen to him is get a lecture and maybe being out of cleaning duty, it wouldn’t change anything. As long as he’s got all his cleaning products he’s going to continue to hogging the bathroom.” Keith patted Pidge on the head when they let out a frustrated groan.
Suddenly they sat bolt upright making Keith pull his hand away in surprise.
“But what if he didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?” Keith questioned a little unnerved by the Cheshire Cat like grin that spread across the smaller Paladins face.
“What if Lance didn’t have his products? What if someone were to hide them to teach him not to just leave his stuff lying around in the bathroom like he owned the place?”
A similar grim spread across Keith’s face as he realised what exactly Pidge was suggesting.
“I think that just might teach him a lesson.”
———————————–
When Lance rolled out of bed that morning like every morning he walked down the hall to the bathroom so he could wash off his face mask and get ready for the day.
However when he had washed the white mask off and reached for his makeup bag only to find it missing he knew something was very wrong. He checked again in case he had put it somewhere else the night before but found nothing.
At this point he began to panic falling to his knees as he tore apart the bathroom desperately searching for his bag as his breaths came shorter and faster.
He had to find his bag.
He couldn’t let the others see him without his makeup.
———————————–
Unlike Pidge, Keith couldn’t wait to see Lance get his comeuppance, so when he heard Lance go to the bathroom that morning Keith had followed close behind listening just out side of the door waiting for the moment of realisation of the prank.
Keith had expected Lance to get angry or maybe even a few tears but nothing major.
What he didn’t expect was to hear the sounds of the bathroom being ripped apart and soft desperate sobbing.
Worried the red paladin opened the door “Lance are you-”
He cut off when he saw exactly why the makeup bag had meant so much to him.
Across the right side of his face there were long white scars trailing along his skin. There were five in total all connected at the side of his neck disappearing under his clothes. One stretched over the outside of his face curling round to just above his left eyebrow. Another curled under his right eye with one branching off to across his nose. The other two wrapped around each other by his chin and jaw line.
Seeing Keith Lance instantly threw his hands up covering his face. “Don’t look at me!” He screamed frantically.
His sleeves fell down showing his right arm also covered with the swirling pale scars shockingly different to his dark skin.
Keith stared at him in shock.
How long had Lance been hiding this from them? When had he been hurt? What could of done this kind damage?
“Oh god… Lance”
Lance shrunk away from Keith not stopping until he hit the cold tile wall.
He looked like a trapped animal countered by a predator.
“I’m so sorry” Keith mumbled sitting down next to him and pulling the blue paladin into a slightly awkward hug.
Lance stiffened for a moment before melting under his team mates touch.
He turned, burying his face into Keith’s chest and sobbed desperately.
Keith wasn’t sure what to do. All he knew was that he wanted to make Lance feel better. Slowly he began to run his free hand through the taller boys hair making quiet shushing noises.
Half an hour later Lance had calmed down and had stopped crying, however he still had his face hidden in Keith’s shirt.
“Thanks” Lance mumbled so quietly that Keith had to wonder if he had imagined it.
The guilt stopped him in the stomach. He didn’t deserve thanks. He deserved to get his ass kicked and then shot out into space for what he had done.
“You don’t need to thank me… it’s my fault”
Lance slowly looked up just enough so that his blue teary eyes were visible. “It’s not… its mine.”
Keith bit his lip, he wanted to argue but Lance almost never talked about himself, not really.
“How so?”
“I was twelve I think, back when me and my family still lived in Cuba…”
Keith could practically hear the homesickness dripping from those words. He wished he could relate but he never really had a home to miss in the first place.
“Mamma told me and my older brother not to go to the ocean that day. But Leo told me it would be fine. And it was for a little bit. We swam, played and surfed for a couple hours. Then it started to get dark and Leo said it was time to go home b-but I was having too much fun so I ignored him. I even ignored him when he tried to warn me…”
Lance was quiet for a few minutes trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
“See Mama had seen on the news that there were lots of Jellyfish in the water that day… she tried to keep us safe without scaring us.
But we wanted to play and well I didn’t notice the Jellyfish until one stung me on the ankle…”
Keith found himself leaning closer silently urging Lance to continue.
“I fell off my board right into a whole bunch of them. I don’t remember much. Just blinding pain then next thing I know I’m waking up in hospital a week later.”
Keith gasped cringing at how Lance flinched at the noise.
“C-can I see?” He asked hesitantly. He didn’t expect his request to be answered so it was surprising when Lance took of his shirt to show the mess of thin white scars that stretched across his torso.
Kieth couldn’t help but run his finger over the one across Lance’s chest.
“Beautiful”
“What was that?” Lance asked causing Keith to blush bright red “I erm I only meant that they look cool! Like lightning!” He sputtered.
Lance chuckled bitterly “yeah I used to think so too. In Cuba at least the kids in school saw it as a badge of honour. But after my Dad died and we had to move to America to live with my Grandparents well… kids can be cruel. They can be cruel about makeup too but I find it’s easier to play the vain pretty boy then have to deal with teasing or worse pity.”
Keith gulped. He was honoured that Lance shared something so personal with him but he knew he didn’t deserve it.
“Look Lance this really is my fault me and Pidge stole your stuff to try and get back at you for always hogging the bathroom.”
Keith expected yelling, maybe more crying. What he didn’t expect was for Lance to just shrug one shoulder “yeah I figured from how guilty you looked.”
“Your not mad?”
Lance laughed, for real this time. “No I’m not mad. Your the first person to call my scars beautiful… it kinda meant a lot.”
Lance looked away blushing almost as much as Keith was.
He realises his hand was still resting on Lance’s bare chest and pulled it away only for it to be grabbed by Lance.
“Glad I was awake for this bonding moment”
Keith smiled looking down at their hands for a moment.
“Yeah me too.”

Looks like lightning

A giant alien spaceship castle you would assume have more then enough bathrooms. However despite the size there were only four in the whole castle one in each wing. Apparently Altean’s didn’t need to go as often as humans did so they never bothered to fit every area with a bathroom.
Of course Allura had her own personal bathroom in her chambers and Corran used the one in the east side of the castle leaving the five Paladins to share the one closest to their collective rooms.
Shiro at first attempted to create a time chart so that everyone would have time to get ready in the morning and get in a shower before bed.
However he quickly learnt that asking a group of teenagers not to take hours in the bathroom was like expecting a pig to sprout wings and fight the Glara.
Keith spends the least time in the morning, only bothering to brush his teeth before going out to train, it’s the evenings that he takes his time, spending almost an hour in the shower letting the warm water work its magic on his sore aching muscles.
Hunk takes his time whenever he uses the bathroom. Often singing or having imaginary arguments with himself.
Pidge spends hours in there. Often taking their computer in with them and ends up losing themselves so completely in their work that they could leave for five minutes to use the toilet and not be seen until dinner.
However out of everyone Lance is by far the worst. He spends hours in there every morning and evening, he will often run out during training just to look in the mirror. Because of this more then a few times a fellow Paladin has been forced to run across the castle in search of another bathroom.
After yet another close call Pidge had enough.
“He’s just so vain!” They snapped walking into the common area where Keith was sat sharpening his knife. 
“I know but there’s not much we can do about it” he shrugged not even bothering to look up as the green paladin flopped down on the couch next to him.
“We could complain to Allura or maybe Shiro?” They offered voice slightly muffled by having their face buried in the cushions.
“Wouldn’t work. They already know and the worst that would happen to him is get a lecture and maybe being out of cleaning duty, it wouldn’t change anything. As long as he’s got all his cleaning products he’s going to continue to hogging the bathroom.” Keith patted Pidge on the head when they let out a frustrated groan.
Suddenly they sat bolt upright making Keith pull his hand away in surprise. 
“But what if he didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?” Keith questioned a little unnerved by the Cheshire Cat like grin that spread across the smaller Paladins face.
“What if Lance didn’t have his products? What if someone were to hide them to teach him not to just leave his stuff lying around in the bathroom like he owned the place?”
A similar grim spread across Keith’s face as he realised what exactly Pidge was suggesting.
“I think that just might teach him a lesson.”
———————————–
When Lance rolled out of bed that morning like every morning he walked down the hall to the bathroom so he could wash off his face mask and get ready for the day. 
However when he had washed the white mask off and reached for his makeup bag only to find it missing he knew something was very wrong. He checked again in case he had put it somewhere else the night before but found nothing.
At this point he began to panic falling to his knees as he tore apart the bathroom desperately searching for his bag as his breaths came shorter and faster.
He had to find his bag.
He couldn’t let the others see him without his makeup.
———————————–
Unlike Pidge, Keith couldn’t wait to see Lance get his comeuppance, so when he heard Lance go to the bathroom that morning Keith had followed close behind listening just out side of the door waiting for the moment of realisation of the prank.
Keith had expected Lance to get angry or maybe even a few tears but nothing major.
What he didn’t expect was to hear the sounds of the bathroom being ripped apart and soft desperate sobbing.
Worried the red paladin opened the door “Lance are you-” 
He cut off when he saw exactly why the makeup bag had meant so much to him.
Across the right side of his face there were long white scars trailing along his skin. There were five in total all connected at the side of his neck disappearing under his clothes. One stretched over the outside of his face curling round to just above his left eyebrow. Another curled under his right eye with one branching off to across his nose. The other two wrapped around each other by his chin and jaw line.
Seeing Keith Lance instantly threw his hands up covering his face. “Don’t look at me!” He screamed frantically.
His sleeves fell down showing his right arm also covered with the swirling pale scars shockingly different to his dark skin.
Keith stared at him in shock. 
How long had Lance been hiding this from them? When had he been hurt? What could of done this kind damage?
“Oh god… Lance”
Lance shrunk away from Keith not stopping until he hit the cold tile wall.
He looked like a trapped animal countered by a predator.
“I’m so sorry” Keith mumbled sitting down next to him and pulling the blue paladin into a slightly awkward hug.
Lance stiffened for a moment before melting under his team mates touch.
He turned, burying his face into Keith’s chest and sobbed desperately.
Keith wasn’t sure what to do. All he knew was that he wanted to make Lance feel better. Slowly he began to run his free hand through the taller boys hair making quiet shushing noises.
Half an hour later Lance had calmed down and had stopped crying, however he still had his face hidden in Keith’s shirt.
“Thanks” Lance mumbled so quietly that Keith had to wonder if he had imagined it. 
The guilt stopped him in the stomach. He didn’t deserve thanks. He deserved to get his ass kicked and then shot out into space for what he had done.
“You don’t need to thank me… it’s my fault” 
Lance slowly looked up just enough so that his blue teary eyes were visible. “It’s not… its mine.”
Keith bit his lip, he wanted to argue but Lance almost never talked about himself, not really.
“How so?”
“I was twelve I think, back when me and my family still lived in Cuba…”
Keith could practically hear the homesickness dripping from those words. He wished he could relate but he never really had a home to miss in the first place.
“Mamma told me and my older brother not to go to the ocean that day. But Leo told me it would be fine. And it was for a little bit. We swam, played and surfed for a couple hours. Then it started to get dark and Leo said it was time to go home b-but I was having too much fun so I ignored him. I even ignored him when he tried to warn me…” 
Lance was quiet for a few minutes trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 
“See Mama had seen on the news that there were lots of Jellyfish in the water that day… she tried to keep us safe without scaring us. 
But we wanted to play and well I didn’t notice the Jellyfish until one stung me on the ankle…”
Keith found himself leaning closer silently urging Lance to continue.
“I fell off my board right into a whole bunch of them. I don’t remember much. Just blinding pain then next thing I know I’m waking up in hospital a week later.”
Keith gasped cringing at how Lance flinched at the noise.
“C-can I see?” He asked hesitantly. He didn’t expect his request to be answered so it was surprising when Lance took of his shirt to show the mess of thin white scars that stretched across his torso.
Kieth couldn’t help but run his finger over the one across Lance’s chest. 
“Beautiful” 
“What was that?” Lance asked causing Keith to blush bright red “I erm I only meant that they look cool! Like lightning!” He sputtered.
Lance chuckled bitterly “yeah I used to think so too. In Cuba at least the kids in school saw it as a badge of honour. But after my Dad died and we had to move to America to live with my Grandparents well… kids can be cruel. They can be cruel about makeup too but I find it’s easier to play the vain pretty boy then have to deal with teasing or worse pity.”
Keith gulped. He was honoured that Lance shared something so personal with him but he knew he didn’t deserve it. 
“Look Lance this really is my fault me and Pidge stole your stuff to try and get back at you for always hogging the bathroom.” 
Keith expected yelling, maybe more crying. What he didn’t expect was for Lance to just shrug one shoulder “yeah I figured from how guilty you looked.”
“Your not mad?”
Lance laughed, for real this time. “No I’m not mad. Your the first person to call my scars beautiful… it kinda meant a lot.”
Lance looked away blushing almost as much as Keith was.
He realises his hand was still resting on Lance’s bare chest and pulled it away only for it to be grabbed by Lance.
“Glad I was awake for this bonding moment”
Keith smiled looking down at their hands for a moment.
“Yeah me too.”

some thoughts about jaylah the magnificent

- Within her first week at Starfleet Academy, Jaylah hacked into the environmental controls and security systems of her dorm– because she was bored and twitchy, because she didn’t know what to do with a home she had not taken apart and re-wired herself. 


- She broke into the cafeteria after hours and told herself it was just to see if she could. She skipped class to go wander the streets and build a map of the city, of these concrete canyons and glass-and-steel cliff walls, of which way she would run if she needed to. She played her music too loud. Kirk wrote her from deep space, further and further away as the months and maydays of their mission moved on, to ask if she was trying to beat him in demerits earned in an Academy tenure. She took that to mean he approved.


- Jaylah had had a big brother, once. Elah had taught her about engines, about how to wrestle, and a lot of really terrible jokes, once. But Scotty walked her through the Enterprise’s engines, when she was rebuilt and shining. They got grease and fluids all over their overalls. Kirk and Spock sparred with her while they waited for the Enterprise’s next mission to come through– Academy martial arts and Vulcan holds and corn-fed Iowa brawling tricks. Uhura provided the bawdy humor, parsed out smugly at the edges of social gatherings. 


- They had set the ruins of the Franklin up as a museum, tucked into the floating bubble of Yorktown. Schoolchildren would take field trips to wander the halls of her house. They invited her to the opening ceremony, cut the ribbon while she and the Enterprise crew were still wandering, limping, through those clean curving streets, but she did not attend. 


- Instead Scotty showed up at her doorstep with a bottle of Scotch stolen from Chekhov. They played her music so loud it shook the walls and earned them a dozen pissed off texts from Bones and a single sternly disapproving note from Spock. They ignored them all and toasted the Franklin, a good lady, a fine home. 


- When Jaylah boarded a transport ship for Earth, for California and San Francisco and the Academy that lived in the shadow of that golden bridge, the whole surviving crew of the Enterprise came out to the loading dock to wave her good-bye. It had been so many years since she had known any faces so well, living, other than her enemies’. She pressed up against the window and watched them– peach and blue and brown and black and green– disappear. 


- No matter how hard she fought and hoped, she had thought she would never get off that planet. The moment she saw her father go down, she had thought she would never be able to survive that stab in his gut, that light that went out of his eyes. She had been small, willow limbs and shaking hands, and she had thought she would never see another sky again. 


- She got up early on cold mornings and walked through the swirling San Francisco fog. She greeted the sun as it climbed up over the Bay and burned the sky back to blue. 


- The crew pooled their credits and bought her a motorcycle for her next birthday, to replace the one they’d left on the planet. Jaylah had left a lot of things in that boneyard. She drove the steep streets on her humming bike and felt like perhaps she had not left everything. 


- When Jaylah took the Kobyashi Maru her final year, she watched her classmates complain and rant afterward about unfairness, about no win scenarios. She did not speak up, just took her results and left. The lesson was one she had already learned, already buried in herself. Sometimes you cannot win, no matter how good you are, no matter how brave, no matter how much you love your daughter and want to live and live and live for her. Sometimes all you can do is die the best way you know how. 


- (When the ruckus had finally died down on Yorktown Base, after the smoke had settled, after the crowds had parted, Jaylah had seen Demora Sulu run to her father’s arms. She had seen Hikaru kneel in the rubble and lift his daughter into his lap and hold her safe in his arms. She had thought, I would have died for this. I am alive, and I am glad, but I would have died for this, I would have, I would have died for this)


- (Her little sister Jessy had been about Dem’s age, the last time Jaylah had seen her alive). 


- She didn’t declare an emphasis in her Academy studies for two years. Scotty thought she should go into engineering, because as a traumatized, escaped child she had reverse-engineered repairs on the Franklin that could only be matched by his own genius. Kirk thought she would make an excellent command officer. Uhura, impressed by how she had taught herself Federation Standard from the Franklin’s logs, made sure the communications department paid friendly attention to her. 


- Instead, Jaylah took the introductory classes for every field of study in the Academy, ignoring the disapproving cries of her guidance counselors. In combat she was years ahead of her peers. She found languages easy, but their technical underpinnings were unengaging and confusing. In engineering she was gifted, but decades behind the state of technology. Scotty had happily dragged her through the Enterprise’s rebuilt engines, but her heart and her blackened fingers would always belong to engines lifetimes older.


- The Enterprise crew were on their second five year mission when Jaylah graduated from Starfleet Academy. They gathered in the main mess hall, all the crew that had survived the Enterprise’s first death, and the new crew members who had heard stories of this adopted daughter of the ship for years. They live-streamed the ceremony. Scotty wore a ‘PROUD BIG BROTHER OF A STARFLEET GRADUATE’ shirt Sulu had hand-lettered for him. Bones opened a bottle of good ol’ Earthside bourbon and pretended not to tear up when her name was called. 


- She wore medical blue.  


- After years of Academy schooling and medical training, Jaylah stepped onto a Starfleet ship, her badge pinned to her chest. The corridors curved into the distance. The lights hummed and lit up as the ship floor murmured under her feet. It felt like coming home. 


- But there were no rocky hills out her shipboard window, no dull sky, no shimmering shield to hide her from her enemies. There was just space– black, cold, endless; brilliant, star-studded; full of discovery and danger and things worth dying for. She was ready to boldly go. She was ready to bravely go. She had thought she would never see another sky and here she was, older than her oldest brother had ever gotten to be, with hands that could defend lives and save them and heal them. The universe was spreading out before her, endless stars lighting the skies of endless planets. She was ready. 

18| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 3782

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Minjee yanked her pointe shoe off with everyone watching. Her face was bright red, and at breaking point. Almost the whole class was laughing. Even Eungkwan had a covert smile on his face. You nearly felt sympathetic. Because of Jimin and Taehyung, Minjee had had a pretty hard class. But not really, she totally deserved it. Besides you couldn’t be a saint. She hadn’t cared when it had been you.

She spun around to face you, her eyes venomous. “You’re gonna pay for going and crying to the seniors.” She spat. Her eyes roved around your class, who tried to stifle their giggles. “Shut up!” She snapped, and stormed out the door, her gum-covered pointe shoe swinging dangerously from the ribbons. Seohyun hurried after her.

“Those men are legends.” Yuna said, shaking her head in disbelief. She glanced at you. “Were you in on that?” She sounded curious, not accusing.

“Nope, though it seems like the sort of thing Taehyung might do.”

“Oh my god, (Name)!” Hyeun squealed. “You’re so lucky being on first name basis with them!” She grabbed your hands and jumped up and down excitedly. “And they did all this for you!”

Yuna and you exchanged glances. “Minjee’s pissed.” She said with a grin as the two of you sat down. “Though it might not have been the best idea to ruffle her feathers just before the review.”

“Aw, come on Yuna!” Hyeun exclaimed. “Jimin’s already ruffled her to oblivion. God, he was terrifying.”

Yuna nodded. “He had a very good point though, for all of us.”

Hyeun sobered, her eyes turning regretful as she picked at the knot of her pointe shoe.

You glanced at your phone. “I better get going.” You said, pulling the drawstrings of your shoe bag and standing up. “I have to get to that ballet store before it shuts.”

“Wrystone?” Yuna asked. “What fo - oh, right shoes.”

You nodded, not quite able to keep your irritation off your face.

“Wait a sec.” Hyeun mumbled as she began rummaging around in her dance bag. Eventually she pulled out around 25000 Won and held it out to you.

You frowned. “Hyeun I can’t…”

She shook her head. “Jimin was right. We had no authority to do that to you. And now you have to get a whole new pair of pointe shoes which you shouldn’t have to pay for. 25000 Won won’t pay for all of it, but I’ll try getting some of the others to chip in” Hyeun gave you a shy smile. “We’ll pay you back.”

You hesitantly took the money. “Thank you, Hyeun.” You said sincerely. Maybe Hyeun could be mislead, or made  judgements without thinking them through, but what person hadn’t gone through a stage like that?

She grinned, once again her normal self.

“See you later!”

~~~~~~

The bus stop was about a hundred yards down the road from Amour you found out from Mrs Cope, the receptionist who you’d discovered behind a massive stack of fabric receipts and post-it notes. She’d handed you a bus timetable and a map, before writing that you were ‘out of house’ on a little whiteboard.

You looked at the bus timetable as you headed up the stairs. The buses were infrequent. As far as you knew, Amour was in a pretty secluded area, and most students probably didn’t bother going in that often. If you wanted to see Jiwoo as well as get your pointe shoes, you’d have to catch the bus that left in ten minutes and miss lunch.

The dorm room was empty by the time you got there. You were glad, another confrontation with Minjee was not on your agenda. You opened up your trunk, the stench of horrible wet, stained clothes hit you. Those idiots…

Holding your breath you dove an arm in searching for your wallet. After a while you finally found it, typically it was at the bottom.

The sticky stuff dripped from the wallet. It looked like porridge. Quickly you shut the trunk with your elbow and hurried to the bathrooms. You ran your wallet and arm under the tap, feeling nauseated. Jimin’s words had put them so clearly in the wrong that you found yourself even more repulsed than this morning. How could they have done this when they didn’t even know whether you’d 'ruined the review’ or not? Why hadn’t anyone thought about what they were doing?

You took a deep breath. Maybe Jimin had changed that.

You turned off the tap, only just realizing that running water on your credit card and banknotes might not have been the greatest idea.

Then you changed into the clothes Dawon had given you. Black tights, a short blue and black tartan skirt and a long sleeved dark blue v-neck. She’d even managed to find you a pair of knee high boots and dark blue leg warmers. You smiled. Leg warmers seemed to be essential to Dawon. Last of all, she’d included a black jacket. Quickly you pulled off your hairnet and hair ties, slipped your wallet into your pocket and rushed out, knowing you had wasted way too much time.

By the time you got out the double doors and down the steps, it was raining. You sat of in a sprint seeing as the bus was beginning to take off.

“Hey!” You yelled, waving your arms frantically. The bus suddenly swerved onto the side, just a few metres from the bus stop. You hurried up to it, breathing hard as the doors hissed open.The bus driver looked at you grumpily as you fumbled around for money.

You finally handed him some coins. He raised a displeased eyebrow. What? Oh no, there was a glob of oatmeal stuck to one of the coins. “Sorry.” You said, and replaced it with another, the bus driver grunted, and you quickly moved in. The few other people on the bus gave you irritated looks.

You shuffled into one of the back seats, staring out the window at the lashing rain. A tiny smile came to your lips. It felt so normal. Aside from the dressy clothes and oatmeal, you were used to running after the bus. Before you’d gotten your Honda a few months ago, you’d spent many mornings running after the school bus, then guiltily walking back into the house and asking your mom or dad for a lift, or, if you did manage to stop it, clambering on to the amused looks of other students. It was funny to think that only a few months ago, ballet had just been a cherished hobby.

The jolting stop of the bus pulled you out of your thoughts.

You quickly got out, carefully avoiding the flooded gutter. You hurried under the awning of a shop, avoiding the pouring rain, and walked along. Wrystone, it seemed, was nothing more than a few shops and a tiny park, maybe two blocks on either side of houses, it was kind of cute. The ballet shop Dawon had told you about was pretty easy to spot. It had a hanging sign, like the ones outside old English taverns, with a painting of ballet shoes, and the words:

Sung & Sons

Dance Emporium

You went in, a bell tinkling with the door. The shop was warm and well lit. Surprisingly, there were a few people milling around, even though Wrystone seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Maybe people made long journeys to get here, it would certainly be worth it. It was like Dawon’s room, just more orderly and much, much bigger. Practise tutus hung from the ceiling, and clothing racks full of black leotards were scattered about, along with great barrels of packeted tights. A mother was trying to pull two little girls away from the mannequin of a sparkling fairy tutu.

But there weren’t just ballet things. On short shelves were rows and rows of tap shoes and tango shoes and jazz shoes and dance sneakers. Glittering ballroom costumes and unitards filled more clothing racks. On another shelf was a collection of dance class CD’s, music sheets and books.

There was another stand with hooks, on which hung every colour of bandeaus and crocheted hairnets and bobby pins known to man. At the very back of the shop was the biggest collection of pointe shoes you’d ever seen. The entire back wall was concealed by floor to ceiling shelves, each one stacked high with pointe shoes.

“Freed of London?” Came a voice from behind. You spun around.

A man with greying red hair and a goatee beaming down at you. He had old, circular glasses, and he wore a grey and red pinstriped waistcoat over his shirt. A badge pinned to it said:

Mister Sung, owner

You frowned, confused for a second, then realised what he meant. “Oh, yes.” You said nodding. “I use, Freed pointe shoes.”

“Mmm.” He nodded, pensive. “I thought as much. I can always tell, you see. You have the calves for it, you and I am guessing your feet are not as wide as some. You’re from Force de la Beauté?”

You smiled, narrowing your eyes. “How did you know?”

“Ah!” He clapped his hands together. “Your eyes, my dear, your eyes!” He chuckled at your bemusement. “You look terribly tired, you know. I am supposing you’re in need of something specific?”

You nodded. “Pointe shoes, actually.”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands again and began leading you through the store. You marvelled at a beautiful collection of tiaras sitting in a glass case you passed. “Now, I’m sure your past the studio brand, yes?”

“Yes.” You said. You’d only been en pointe for three years, and you knew very little about the different brands of shoes. However you did know that Freed of London had studio shoes, for beginner pointe dancers, and then another range for the more experience dancers.

“Classic Pro.” You told him.

“Aha.” He said. “A nice design, you know. Not for the fainthearted, mind. They don’t have a beginner’s support.” You reached the back shelves. A two metre barre was secured to the ground right by it, and a bench. Mister Sung climbed up one of the shelf ladders with surprising agility. You sat down on the bench and began taking your leg warmers and boots off. “I’m curious Miss?”

“(Surname)” You supplied.

“Miss (Surname), as to why you need another pair of pointe shoes so soon. You see, we have been delivering three pairs of pointe shoes for every Amourian danseuse each month since Jinho signed a contract with us all those years ago. You must be a very fierce dancer to warrant a fourth pair in such a short amount of time?”

“I arrived late.” You told him as he shifted through the many packets of pointe shoes. “My old pointes were a few months old.”

“They died, then?” He spoke as if they were relatives, not just shoes.

“Yes.” You said. If he liked pointe shoes that much, then getting into what actually happened didn’t seem like a good idea.

“Ah, the time we cobblers take to make them.” He grumbled fondly. “Only to have you stamp them out in a single performance. Now, what are your measurements?”

You told him the measurements you had memorized after your first fitting. He eventually came down with a pair, and you slipped them on. Without any ribbons, they were loose, but using the barre you were able to follow Mister Sung’s instructions. “Every pair is slightly different, Miss (Surname).” He said, kneeling down to check the shank length. “And so every shoe must be tested. All these silly people buying pointes on the internet. Now please climb up to pointe.”

One foot at a time, you stood up on your platforms. You gritted your teeth against the added pressure. Until the toe box had moulded to your own toes, it was going to hurt more than usual. The fact that you weren’t wearing gel pads probably made it worse. “A nice arc there, Miss (Surname).” He said approvingly while gently squeezing the toe box.

The image of Taehyung twisting Minjee’s foot this way and that came into your head, and you tried not to giggle. How Minjee possibly thought that Taehyung had any knowledge of pointe shoes you did not know.

“Well, these seem to fit you perfectly well, Miss (Surname).” Mister Sung stood back up, and you went back down to flat. “I take it you’ll be needing ribbons and such?”

“Yes please.” You said, putting your boots back on.

He grabbed the necessary packets and took them to the counter. As he put your new shoes back in their plastic and tallied up the total, you looked at the beautiful jewellery boxes next to the till. Each one had a different ballerina on it. One was wearing a deep blue tutu, her arms in an oval above her head, her leg out behind in an attitude. You ran a gentle fingertip down her figure. That would be you tomorrow.

“Beautiful little pieces, aren’t they?” Mister Sung asked.

You nodded, still staring at the tiny dancer. Tomorrow. You gulped and snapped out of it, reaching into your wallet for your credit card. You handed it to him.

“Thank you.” You said as he gave you the plasticbag.

“It was good to meet you, Miss (Surname)” He gave a little bow.

You smiled and bowed back. “And you too.”

You left the warm store, and began walking again, digging the map out of your pocket. Miss Cope had circled the next bus stop you’d have to go to, to get to the hospital.

You got there with ten minutes to spare, and ducked into a nearby cafe to get a takeaway chocolate. You didn’t trust yourself to do nothing. You couldn’t have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the street.

Having waited for your chocolate you got out just in time for the bus, and managed to pay without any oatmeal. The hot creamy chocolate, managed to calm you the rest of the way.

The hospital, Seoul Hospital, was a fancy modern building, ten storeys high. You hopped out of the bus, with excitement. You were finally going to see Jiwoo! You hurried through the automatic doors and away from the rain.

Immediately you were enveloped in the white cleanliness and quietness. Doctors and nurses walked about purposefully, walking past patients as if they didn’t exist. If any of the few people in the main reception spoke, it was in hushed tones.

The receptionist registered you and told you where to go. The orthopaedics ward was on the fourth floor. You took the elevator up. It was a great relief from Amour’s endless stairs.

The fourth floor was almost identical to the bottom, and you quickly navigated your way through a maze of shiny white corridors. Jiwoo’s was the second to last on the right. You knocked gently, though your excitement was mounting.

“Yeah?”

You pushed open the door. “Oh my God, (Name)!” Jiwoo sat propped up with pillows on a bed in the centre of the small, generic hospital room. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and there were bags under her eyes, but she grinned widely.

You quickly shut the door behind you, trying not to squeal. “How are you?” You asked as she pulled you into a one sided hug. You pulled back quickly, not wanting to hurt her. Her left arm was in a cuff and collar, but she was still smiling.

“I’ll do. How are you?” She grabbed your hand. “You have to tell me everything that’s happened since I left!”

“But you’re the patient.” You began, but she shook her head.

“My days have consisted of painkillers, get well cards and hospital food. Not that intersting. Tell me how the review preparations are going! What are the costumes like? How’s your solo? Have you spied on Master Kang’s class yet? Get me up to date!”

You laughed. “Fine, fine…”

And so you began. You described the costumes to her, right down to the smallest detail, and how you’d been absolutely terrible dancing in your tutu, and how Master Kang’s class was apparently doing a pas de deux in the middle of their piece. You told her how Madame Choi had asked Mister Ghim to alter the ending to make the music more dramatic.

That was all you could say without telling her about everything that had happened with Minjee. You didn’t want to worry her. You could see how tired she was. She couldn’t sit right up for long, and sometimes the slightest wrong movement made her gasp. However she knew something was up when you fucked up and accidentally told her about Mister Sung, the extremely enthusiastic pointe shoe seller.

“Wait! You’re planning to break in a new pair of pointe shoes by tomorrow?” She scrunched her face. “Why?”

You sighed, tracing the seam of your tights. “Minjee and I had a bit of a fall out.”

She grinned. “Because you were best buds before.”

“Totally…well, you know how me and Eungkwan were doing the lift as well?” She nodded. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but I bashed my head, and so I got a concussion.” You paused, looking at her.

She gave you a pained look. “I asked if you were okay. You should have told me, I’ve been wondering about that.”

You shrugged. “You were looking much words. I didn’t feel it at the time anyway.” She gave you a disapproving look, but nodded for you to go on.

And so you told her everything, from the awful tech class the next day to Jimin taking you to Doctor Hill. She laughed when you told her about the posters, but you’d been vague about Jimin and your’s argument. You just said that Jimin had been patronizing, and that you’d gone and messed around with the choreography to prove him wrong. She scowled when you told her about Minjee and everyone turning against you. You told her all your frustrations, your sadness this morning, and your trunk.

Jiwoo, who always saw the best in people, had scowled. “Minjee and her little group should be thrown out onto the street.”

You also told her what Jimin had said, though you couldn’t say it quite so elegantly, and then what Taehyung had done.

She laughed until the jiggling of her shoulder got too much. “I should send them a thank you card.”

The two of you sat in silence for a minute or two, Jiwoo digesting all that you’d told her.

“How’s Kwangsik?” She asked.

“Guilty.”

She shook her head sadly. “Doesn’t he know it wasn’t his fault?”

“I tried to tell him.” You said. “He danced with Yuna today, when Jimin put Dongwon with Jongsoo, and I think Jimin talked to him.” You sighed. “He doesn’t think you’ll forgive him and we haven’t been told much about your condition.”

Jiwoo looked down unhappily. “The surgery went fine. I mean, it was scary beforehand, but they’ve managed to get it all back in the right place, it’s just (Name).” She looked at you, her eyes filled with tears. “They’re saying it might never join back together correctly.” She swallowed. “I can’t dance with a messed up shoulder, (Name). I might not be able to dance again.”

“Oh Jiwoo.” You put your arms carefully around her.

Not being able to dance. Never dance again…

She cried into your shoulder. You couldn’t think of any words of comfort, only that it wasn’t for certain, and you knew that wouldn’t help.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time.

“Jimin was here earlier.” She said eventually, wiping her cheek with the back of her good hand.

You pulled back. “Really?”

She nodded. “I didn’t tell him, about the – ” She took a breath. “The possibilities, but he got injured as well when he was in first year. He injured his leg, and had to take three months off.”

“And yet he’s still at the top.” You murmured.

“I know, right? He said that he was really depressed at the beginning, but he said that he realized that just because he couldn’t do ballet didn’t mean he couldn’t still learn it.” Jiwoo seemed to perk up a little.

“He said that I should watch as much ballet as possible, see how the professionals do it and he said that he used to torture himself through hours of theory and choreography. Jimin said it gave him time to think about why he did ballet. ” She gave a small smile. “I know it’s not…smart to – to get my hopes up…but I want to do those things. I should make the most of all this, you know?”

“I understand.” You said.

There was an attentive knock on the door, and a nurse came in. “Visiting times are over, Hun.” She gave you a polite smile, and shut the door again.

“Right, I’ll tell you all about the review as soon as I can.”

She smiled. “Could you tell Kwangsik I said 'hi’? And for him not to worry.”

You pulled your boots back on. “Of course.”

You gave Jiwoo one last hug. “And don’t you worry about anything, 'kay?”

She grinned. “Just so long as you have Taehyung and Jimin to ward off Minjee…(Name)?”

You turned at the door.

“Thanks.” She said.

You smiled and left.

Your mind was full of thoughts as you went back down the way you came. Poor Jiwoo. You could only imagine the idea of never being able to dance. It was horrifying. But Jiwoo was strong and young. That might give her more of a chance?

You went out into the freezing cold. The rain lashed at you, seeping right through your jacket. You pulled the collar up around your neck, running along the pavement to the bus sign.

Arriving at the bus stop you looked at the timetable, trying to read past the rain. Twenty minutes. Great. You pulled your jacket even tighter, trying to shelter as much of your face as possible. Through your thin tights, your legs were absolute frozen.

You were glad Jimin had given Jiwoo had something to think about. Even if she couldn’t dance, there were so many positions in ballet companies and schools…

“(Name)!” You spun around, recognizing the voice in an instant. A sleek black Porsche had pulled into the bus stop. Jimin leaned out of the window, rain already beginning to drip from his brown hair. His eyes were squinted so he could see through the downpour. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride!”

Found

Steve Rogers X Reader Soulmate AU

A/N: I know I said I was going to bed, but ERMERGERD!! I finally hit 200 followers!! I have been obsessing over Soulmate AUs, lately, so I figured what a great time to try and bang one out! A special occasion fluff piece! Thank you so much for those who have followed me! 200 may not be a lot to some of you, but it is a huge milestone for me!

Summary: Soulmates are born with their partner’s name tattooed over their heart. What happens when the reader is born with a famous missing Captain America’s name?

Warnings: A poor deer gets hit by a car, minor accident, very little injury and blood.

Word Count: About 1700 words (more or less)

Masterlist

Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

Steven Grant Rogers.

When I was born, my parents and doctors were astonished. Captain America had been presumed dead since the forties, making it an impossible scenario at the time. History books never mentioned that he had a name tattooed over his heart. He hadn’t made that information public. I guess soulmates were considered controversial at that period of time, since there was not a lot of information about it.

“You mustn’t let anybody know who your soulmate is, Y/N.” My father always warned, failing to hide the fear laced in his voice. “You don’t want the wrong people to know this piece of information. It could do a lot of damage and get you hurt.”

So, I covered up the delicate writing. Foundation and high-cut shirts became my life-line. I never told anybody that I had a soulmate, and people didn’t question me. Not everybody’s born with a soulmate, anyways.

The world is cruel. I would rather have had no soulmate, instead of a dead one.

I had gotten pretty good at hiding my tattoo, and refused to let the sting of knowing I would never meet my other half get me down. I had graduated high school with honors, graduated from a great college, and got a job as a nurse in a local hospital in New York. I loved my job. I worked really hard to have a good life, and enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that I was helping people.

Then he was found. He was alive.

I was sitting in the break room, talking to one of my colleagues about an upcoming vacation I’d planned, when someone had shouted to turn on the TV.

Captain America Alive – Frozen in time!

The headlines all said it.

My heart almost stopped beating. He was alive. After all this time. He was alive.

I ran to the restroom to call my mother. “Did you see the television?” I all but shouted, hands shaking.

“I did.” She responded, a smile in her voice. “He’s alive, after all this time.”

“What do I do? I don’t want to freak him out! I’m sure waking up in a different era after being frozen is hard enough, without adding me into the mix.” I sat down on the counter, next to the sink. I needed to think this through, before making any rash decisions. I was overjoyed. I was nervous. I was hurt. I had spent my whole life believing that I was never going to meet my other half. Thinking that the universe was playing a cruel joke on me by giving me the name of a dead man.

I had been wrong after all this time.

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. You need to be the one to make the decision.” I could faintly hear the television in the background of the phone. “If you really want to meet him, you don’t need to do it today. Do it in your own time.”

So that’s what I did. I waited. Three years.

I had followed what he was doing through the news and social media, over time. He had joined a group that called themselves The Avengers, and was trying to do some good in the world.

I was trying to get my life in order, before I met him. I was paying off my student loans, I was working a lot, and I had moved closer to Stark Tower – now called The Avengers Tower – to be close when I was ready to talk to him.

After a particularly grueling day at the hospital – a twelve hour shift – I was supposed to be making my way to see my parents for an upcoming birthday. I was tired. It was really late at night, and I was skipping the set-up with my mother, since the party was the next day. It was a gross night, the rain was coming down in sheets, and it was way too cold. I had been wearing my scrubs, but the shirt was too dirty, so I was driving with my scrub pants and a tank top, making sure the heat in my car cranked up.

Luckily, traffic was pretty light, but the rain was not letting up.

“What the hell! Pass me, asshole.” I muttered, looking in my rearview mirror at a giant SUV behind me. “What, are you trying to pick your goddamn teeth in my mirror?”

My eyes had only flicked to the SUV for a second, but when I looked forward all I saw were a pair of shining eyes.

DEER! SHIT!

I gasped, slamming the brakes as the deer was tumbling onto my hood and smashing into my windshield. My body was forced forward, and my face made contact with the steering wheel. My foot felt like it was forcing my body weight onto the brake, and I threw my car in park, praying I was on the side of the road. “God dammit.” I yelled, bringing my hand up to my throbbing nose, and it came away sticky with blood. I felt it, and – luckily – it hadn’t been broken.

Shit. My windshield was fucked.

The deer!

I clicked off my seatbelt, throwing open my door. Before I climbed out, I grabbed my dirty scrub shirt, pressing it against my face to soak up the bleeding.

“Woah, are you sure you want to be getting out of the car, right now?” A woman’s voice said from a few feet behind my car. “Are you okay?”

My windshield was splattered with blood and hair, and the car was totaled. “Fuck! So much for paying off my car!” This fucking sucks.

I turned to the woman, and froze in my tracks. I would recognize that red hair anywhere. Natasha Romanoff? The Black fucking Widow? “Uhh, I’m fine. I just hit my nose. It’s bleeding, but it isn’t-”

HOLY SHIT.

The passenger door to the SUV opened, revealing none other than him. Captain America.

He was a lot bigger in person. He was tall, broad, and handsome. His hair was so golden blonde, but dirty at the same time. And his blue eyes stood out from his clear, attractive face. They were the most beautiful shade of blue I had ever seen.

Oh, God, I’m freaking out…

Oh, shit. You were talking, Y/N.

“-It isn’t broken. I’m more pissed about my car.” I shivered, rain making the cold seep into my exposed flesh, and shock of the accident waring off. “I just need to call a tow.”

“I already called one, Ma’am.” His perfect voice flooded my ears, and I had to stop myself from embarrassing myself by swooning. “Are you sure you’re okay? That’s a lot of blood.”

I nodded, using the soiled scrub shirt to wipe the blood from my face and chest. I tossed it into the car and grabbed my umbrella to block off the rain, “D-did they say how long they would be?”

“Twenty Minutes.” He responded, unzipping his hoodie and tossing it to me, “Take this. You don’t want to catch a cold.” Such a gentleman.

I was so focused on not embarrassing myself in front of Steve, that I didn’t notice Natasha eyeing up my badge and my half-wiped makeup over my tattoo. “Hey, Steve.” She looked over, beckoning him closer. “Check out the name on her badge.”

My heart stopped beating. Oh, shit. My eyes were almost bugging out of my head, and I could tell that she knew exactly whose name was tattooed over my heart.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He read aloud, voice questioning. His head sprung up, looking serious and taken aback, “Your middle name wouldn’t be Y/M/N, would it?”

I smiled sheepishly, taking my sleeve and wiping the rest of the dripping foundation off my chest, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled, a look of relief on his face. “You’re my soulmate.”

I felt my face blush, and I bit my lip – heat radiating off my cheeks as he walked up to me, “And you’re mine.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, before?” He questioned as Natasha walked back over to the SUV.

I wrung my hands together, nervousness taking over my body, “Well, uh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s pretty surreal seeing you in person and not on the news.” I wrapped his hoodie tighter around my body, “Plus, I mean, I thought you were dead my whole life, so I never exactly planned out what I would say the first time I ever met you.”

His face fell, “I’m sorry. I had my whole life before the ice thinking about meeting you, and you spent yours thinking that I was never going to be with you.” He gently grabbed my hand, leaving my other one free so I could hold the umbrella. “I’ve had a whole speech planned since I knew what this tattoo meant, and I’ve forgotten every line.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Doll. You’re beautiful.”

I cleared my throat, “You’re not so bad yourself, Captain.” Oh my god, he isn’t disappointed. Thank god.

“You can call me by my name, you know.” He winked, leaning against my dripping car. “So, do you want to go get some coffee, or something?”

“Oh, shoot!” I pulled my hand out of his, and leaned back into my car to grab my phone, “I was on my way to my parents’ house for a birthday that’s supposed to be tomorrow.” I quick texted my mother, letting her know that I was going to be late without going into details. “I would love, some coffee, though.”

He chuckled, running his hand through his wet hair, “Why don’t we leave Natasha with your car, and I’ll take you to your parents’ house? We can stop for coffee on the way?”

“Sure, that sounds lovely.” I was so relieved that he wasn’t disappointed. I had always dreamed of meeting my other half. This was not a dream, this was reality – and I was so ecstatic, I could cry.

Natasha came over, tossing Steve the keys to the SUV and my suitcase from the back seat. “You kids have fun, I’ll have this towed back to the tower. Make Stark pay for it.”

Steve ushered me over to the vehicle, opening my door and taking my umbrella from me. He jogged over to the driver’s side door and closed my umbrella, hopping in and starting up the SUV.

As he pulled back onto the highway, his right hand took hold of my left, “I am really glad I found you, Doll.”

Another blush crept its way over my skin, and I gave his hand a little squeeze, “I’m really glad I found, you, too.”

As we rode, I felt a sense of happiness spread through me. My soulmate had finally found me, and I’d finally found him.

My heart felt complete.

I could finally show my tattoo to the world.

Steven Grant Rogers.

My soulmate.

TAGS: (I do forever tags, whoever wants to join the party!)

@luckynumber1213 @mrsnegan25

So This Is Love

Requested on tumblr: James and Lily are so dating and it’s disgusting to everyone around them maybe just maybe James and Lily fight and in the middle of the GREAT HALL James says something “Lily Potter you come back here!” And then everyone is like ? And also !

Levins18 requested this and it turned into a 32 page story so that I could properly fit in everything that was asked for so specifically. Also I brought back my character Anna from The Quidditch Commentator because I missed her.

“You’re going to have to do something about that Prongs.”

Keep reading

Attitude Problem- Part 7

Part 6 here: https://wwefinnbalorimagines.tumblr.com/post/161287289330/attitude-problem-part-6

Y/n felt a jolt run through her body as her eyes suddenly fluttered open. Her gaze met a ceiling that seemed quite familiar though she could tell she wasn’t in her bedroom.

Her bedroom.
Her place.
This was Finn’s place.

Y/n sat up almost spastically and felt her sore abs crunch. She had minimal memory of her little showdown with Finn last night. Yet her aching body lay testimony to the fact that it had been at least two relentless rounds between them.

But she wasn’t on the floor anymore. She was aptly placed on her side of the king sized bed she used to share with Finn.

She scanned her surroundings, a warmth filling her chest as she adjusted to the feeling of coming back home. Just that there was something missing, or rather someone.

Where was Finn?

His side of the bed lay cool and empty.

Right then y/n heard a shuffling near the bathroom door. She didn’t need to adjust her eyes much since the dawn breaking outside illuminated the face of the Adonis before her. He didn’t look at her, rather he looked away. He was peering outside the window from the slight gap between the half drawn curtains. The subtle glow from the morning sky glorified every cut of muscle on the heroic figure’s body as he stood silently at his window pane.

Y/n gradually reeled out of her reverie and realised that she was clad in a black button down. His black button down shirt from last night.

He still had his pants on. But with his hair dishevelled like that she wasn’t sure if he had slept or none at all.

She wracked her brain to set her observations into a coherent narrative, though in vain. Beginning from the moment she set foot into this apartment last evening; it had all been a whirlwind. All she could remember was that she had come across a drunken, vindictive and dickheaded version of Finn.

She sat upright for several minutes, trying to piece together the bits of information as it occurred to her. Then she noticed Finn’s eyes watching her.

He didn’t budge from his position near the window, though he craned his neck sideways to watch her intently, an indecipherable expression on his face.

Y/n had no idea what his mood was like now. He was definitely a moody guy and it didn’t help that he held absolutely no facial expressions to tell her what he was thinking about.

“Hey.” Y/n spoke groggily to him. That was all she could muster to break the ice and she felt like a complete fool for it.

“Hey.” Finn returned her greeting with a crooked smile on his face, exuding a strangely mysterious aura about him.

Y/n thought of what to say next. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to bring up last night, the entire last week or just ask about how she got from the floor to bed.

Finn left his position near the window and slowly walked up to y/n near the bed, taking a seat at the edge. He sat just opposite her so they looked directly at each other’s faces, that were now glistening in the dim morning light.

After three or four seconds of deafening silence, Finn broke into a smirk and shook his head at the awkwardness of it all. Y/n stared at him like she was mesmerised by the sight of her high school crush.

“Good morning, y/n.” Finn smiled and raised his eyebrows at her, hoping to bring her back to reality.

“Morning, Finn.” Y/n responded bashfully, a blush creeping up to her cheeks.

There was something about a shirtless Finn that made all five of her senses go hazy.

“Still reeling from last night yeah?” Finn asked with a cocky tone to his voice. He licked his lips trying to hide a grin from erupting.

“What even…happened last night?” Y/n asked trying to shake the hung over feel from her.

“We fucked.”

Finn said it like he just mentioned a statistic off the news.

“Thrice…” He gave y/n a devilish grin, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Really? See I told ya I wasn’t uptight.” Y/n snorted back waving her hand across her shoulder to gesture a hair flip. “Though, I can’t seem to remember the details of everything, like I don’t remember putting on your shirt and…” She quieted down upon seeing Finn grimace, running his hand behind his neck sheepishly.

“That might have been because I dropped you…on your head.” He confessed.

“YOU WHAT?!” Y/n exclaimed in disbelief.

“Well I didn’t exactly drop you, I just…in the heat of the moment…I kind of slammed you against the floor and..erm…you hit your head first.” Finn stuttered while explaining, immediately regretting mentioning it.

“Is this why I don’t remember shit?! Did I get a concussion???” Y/n was verging on hysterical as she flailed her arms in all directions while sitting on the bed.

“Relax. It wasn’t that bad. The hit just made you a little loopy. And less uptight.” He winked at her cheekily, grinning from ear to ear now.

His smile drew crinkles around his eyes and y/n’s agitation washed away with the realisation of how pure this man’s soul really was. Beneath all the pent up darkness and aggression shone an honest man who cared about her very much. He was mercurial, childlike, impulsive and unbelievably complex. Yet one thing that stood out from all his complexities was his sincerity to her. He never lied to her. No matter how unsparing, cold or trivial the truth was, he would let her know. As he did just now.

“Finn, let’s just please address the elephant in the room now?” Y/n tried cutting to the chase.

Finn looked around his room carefully.

“FINN!” Y/n scolded. “I’m serious!”

Finn almost fell off the bed trying to control his laughter. He then quickly drew a hand to cover his mouth when he noticed y/n frown at him.

“Okay. I’m serious now.” He confirmed.

“We weren’t able to talk last night thanks to your drunken state but I wanted to apologise for-”

“You don’t have to.” Finn cut her off.

“But I threatened to break-” y/n’s argument was cut mid sentence again.

“I know you didn’t mean it.” Finn held her gaze before continuing.

“Though, you had every right to. I did lose my temper when you said it because it hurt me deeply. But then I thought about it. Well actually, Karl knocked some sense into me & I realised that it’s naturally disconcerting to feel like you were just part of a wager…like a badge of honour for me…to be able to get with you and uphold a reputation with the lads.” Finn now eyed the floor in deep pontification as he put his thoughts into words. Y/n could tell he felt genuine disdain for how things started off between them.

“And then I guess infidelity just happens to be the final straw, yeah?” He shook his head silently chiding himself in his mind.

“But I said it before and I’ll say it again, I never really-”

“I know.” It was y/n’s turn to cut him off.

“Karl spoke with me. He told me the whole thing. So I know you technically didn’t cheat because you were only trying to return to your old ways, not start a new relationship.”

“I guess we both have to thank Karl for stepping in then?” Finn joked.

“He’s a great guy.” Y/n said.

Finn only nodded in agreement and the room fell silent again. The sun’s rays now shimmered through the gaps between the curtains as the day unfolded before them. It wasn’t awkward at all anymore. It felt more like a shadow of calm had descended upon them.

Then y/n broke the silence and tried to scuffle out of bed.

“Erm, I should probably give you your shirt back.” She stood up and searched for her clothes that lay sprawled on a chair nearby. Turning her back to Finn she bit her lip wondering if their conversation had just ended.

“Where are you going?” Finn asked.

Y/n turned around to find him looking at her with hopeful eyes.

“You live here, remember?” He reminded her with a gentle whisper that seemed to endlessly echo in her mind.

“Yeah, it’s just that since last week I’ve been living at-”

“Can we get over last week already?” Finn rolled his eyes and y/n shut up not knowing what else to say.

He stood up from the bed and reached an arm out to grab y/n by the waist. He drew her close to him into his chest and touched her forehead with his own.

“I miss you, y/n. The past two weeks have been absolute shit and I really want things to just go back to normal now.”

Finn stood there leaning his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed shut as he murmured a “please” under his breath.

Y/n stood quietly relishing the warmth radiating off his skin. She then dextrously ran a hand through his short hair, brushing it back with gentle strokes.

“I would like that very much.” She smiled and stood on her tip toes to place a kiss on his jawline.

Oi, don’t go back to being uptight on me, miss.“ Finn joked as he leaned in for a deeper kiss on her lips.

// Thank you all very much for reading! Here’s me signing off with four Gifs of Finnie, just for y'all! Tags: @vsturgeon5489 @ambrosegirlforever @bucky-iss-bae @bitchesgonnabemad @thebadchic @rocketqueen28 @alexahood21 @caramara3 @future-mrspeters @behindthesesilvereyes @yeraidjitjessica @ridingmoxley @nickysmum1909 @02queen @baleesi

Originally posted by itsalwayssunnyinaz

Originally posted by mandrewsjr

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

Originally posted by itsalwayssunnyinaz

Twelfth Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third

———————–

It was their first Christmas where not a damn thing was happening. No one was sick, no one was running, no one was dead.

It was very impressive for them.

Everything had come out of storage, which, thankfully, Maggie and Skinner had packed up for them once they’d disappeared. Scully found all her ornaments, her tree, her lights and garland, her stockings and tree skirt. She had wanted to put everything up when they first unpacked at the end of January and perfectly willing, Mulder stood quietly while she talked herself out of it. As compromise, he played Christmas music and made her sugar cookies while she went out scouting for a job.

Part of the deal of their return to civilization was an ankle tracker for him and no law enforcement work for either, which meant Scully became the breadwinner without a badge and Mulder roamed free on their property, all 2 acres of it, his only contact with the outside world being online and any mailmen, delivery men and repair men that might come his way.

And in all honesty, he didn’t mind in the slightest. Scully got to have her family back, her interaction, her life and the smile she wore every day more than made up for his confinement.

&&&&&&&&

“Do you want to study tonight?”

Scully, happily exhausted from her hours at the lab, looked at him with eyes at half-mast, “nope. Classes are done for the break and I have two weeks of no homework.”

He gave her a classic Scully eyebrow as he handed her her mug of hot cocoa, “I know that but that has nothing to do with you wanting to study. You want to study all the time. You can study stuff and have it not mean anything in the grand scheme of homework.”

Blowing the steam across the top of the cup, watching it twist and dissipate into nothing, “am I that much of a geek?”

“But you’re my geek so it’s okay.” Squinting at her, “so, are you serious about the ‘no studying, no homework’ thing?”

Tilting her head and giving him a half-embarrassed, half-cocked, half-radiant smile, “probably not but right now, I am completely fine with leaving my medical books elsewhere and doing the decorating.” After a quick glance around at the boxes he’d carried down from the attic, “did you get them all or do you need me to carry a few down?”

“I’m here all day, Scully, I got them all.”

Looking sharply at him for a moment, she saw no ill-will or anger, just his relaxed look that spoke volumes about how he was still handling his confinement. Scully set her mug down then after planting a short kiss on his cheek, “then let’s get it on.”

“I sincerely hope you mean having wild sex with you amidst the boxes?”

“Let’s save that for under the tree once we’re done. I’ve got a surprise or two left in me and I think you’ll enjoy it more if there wasn’t a cardboard corner poking you in the ass.”

Mulder tugged the tree box open, “then let’s move it, woman.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

They hung up the things and this year, there were definitely a few more things, given Mulder had discovered online shopping and dollar stores all in the same sitting. He didn’t spend money unless he felt it absolutely necessary and not without discussing it with Scully first but he didn’t think she’d mind a few surprise accoutrements added to their holiday collection. More garland had been a must, as well as more lights to string up across the porch railing and around the windows. Scully had hinted that she wanted a Nativity scene and the atheist in him was squashed flat in the 0.4 second battle between belief and Scully, with the nativity scene arriving secretly to be put up when she wasn’t looking. She’d had to pick up the candy canes at the grocery store but had stated, with a smile, that it was the least she could do given she was going to be eating most of them herself.

When it was finally time to decorate the actual tree about an hour later, Mulder let her remove her ornaments, some of her last vestiges of an older life, a past life. The joining of two individuals into one house had culled unnecessary thing and things that didn’t seem as important as they had once been but given they’d made Christmas theirs so many years ago, all those items stayed with a bone-crushing vengeance, Scully not even allowing the slightly mangled original garland to go anywhere, because, as she admitted freely, he bought it and it was staying until they pried it from her cold, dead hands.

They put up her childhood ornaments, her father’s gifted ones, the Mulder years then, after only a slight pause at Will’s items, baby’s first Christmas ones abounding, she then hung the clear ornament with the house key in it, which they’d put back once other keys were made and the engagement ring ornament, now filled with a slip of paper on cotton that clearly stated ‘She said yes!” in Mulder’s hand.

After this one stopped swinging on its branches, she took Mulder’s hand, “think we should still get married one day?”

As soon as they’d gotten their hormones under control from the proposal, Mulder made a good point about how they should wait until things calmed down in their world before they went off and complicated them again by getting hitched in name, rank and serial number. He told her he would prefer to walk down the aisle without wearing his ankle jewelry and understanding completely, Scully had no problem, happy in the knowledge that one day she’d get to marry her most wanted unwanted man from the basement.

“Should we still get married?” he repeated, pulling her close by the waist, leaving just enough millimeters to wiggle fingers up her shirt, wiggle them again up, over and into the top of her bra, “I think we should. I just need to figure out a way to pry this damn tracker off me and we’ll run to Atlantic City and do the deed up right.”

“Atlantic City?” His fingers were making her intellect slip to repeating phrases, and she forced her mind to form at least one more complete sentence, “I thought I’d be getting an aisle in a church somewhere with mom and at least a priest who didn’t look like Elvis?”

“Nope.” Fingers moving inward to wrap around warm flesh, “I just said aisle. After the things I’ve done to you, I’m lucky to have made it through that one Christmas mass. I try that nonsense again and God will surely be like, ‘nope, not having it, move along’ and fire a lightning bolt straight up my …”

She cut his sacrilege off with a kiss and a grin, “shut up and get me out of this shirt, will you, please?”

He immensely enjoyed his time under the tree with her and early the next morning, he found her on the couch, in the dark, only the tree lit. Having dragged the comforter with him, he climbed over the back of the couch, enveloping her in the blue-patterned thick blanket. It went over her head, sending hair askew into her face and making her smile, the parts still visible to him rainbow lit from the lights of the tree. “Good morning.”

Her voice emerged as she pulled the covering from her head completely, settling them on their laps, her hair staying disheveled and adorable, “morning. It’s awfully early for you to be awake.”

“I felt you get up. I like you. I followed. I think they call that the ‘loyal dog response’.”

Cuddling up to him, “you are the best English Mastiff a girl could ever have.”

He took that as the compliment it was intended and kissed the top of her head, “so, are you gonna make me wait to give you your ornament or can I just do it now because I really don’t want to wait.”

“You’ve thoroughly enjoyed the online shopping experience, haven’t you?”

“Beats the hell out of Christmas crowds and I get to talk to the UPS guy for a few minutes. Win, win for me.”

Pulling back in horrified shock, “you got something going on with the UPS guy?”

“No more than you did with that pizza man.” Tweaking her nose, “move so I can go get your gift.” Move she did and he returned a minute later from his office, a small carton in his hand. Dropping back beside her, he set it on her lap, “Merry early Christmas, Scully.”

Amused, she opened the paper, finding not a round bulb but her gold FBI badge, now with a hole in the top and a ribbon through it, hook on the end, “you ornamentized my badge?”

“Totally.”

She burst out laughing then hauled up from the couch to hang it, “it bends the branches. I’m gonna need to hang it on two of them.” Coming back his way, she dug under the table beside them, moving newspapers and other detritus before handing him a wrapped gift, “here you go.”

Taking the box, he found a set of ten carved candy canes, all different sizes and types of wood, each with signature stripes whittled in barber pole fashion, sanded and varnished in various colors, quietly waiting to be hung on the tree. He picked up one gently, “you made these?”

“Yeah. Took me most of the year. Been using wood from around here. I’m very lucky you take naps in the afternoons.”

“Is that why you never come lay down with me?”

Shrugging, she ducked her head in embarrassment, “although I have a feeling I’m going to have to retire my pocket knife for awhile. School is getting too busy and I barely got these done.”

With a chuckle, he settled the box on the coffee table, then attacked her on the couch, neck first, then belly as he shoved her shirt up with his nose, “scalpels are just as good as pocket knives.”

“That is not something you normally hear at Christmas.”

“Well, we’re weird. Get over it.”

Wiggling out of her shirt, “I think I’m under it, Mulder.”

Laughing into her neck, “under it, indeed.”

Night Falls: Chapter 9

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: After witnessing a murder, Y/N becomes a protected witness to FBI Agent Dean Winchester, who needs her help to do more than just solve one man’s murder.

Word Count: 2,886

Gif:

A/N: Shoutout to one of my awesome followers, @attractiverandomness ! It’s their birthday today, so this chapter is dedicated to them! I promised you chapter 9 for your birthday, and here it is! Enjoy love!

And Chapter 10 may take a while. I’ll be doing research into how the FBI works so I can start getting things accurate for the upcoming chapter, so I’ll need a little bit of patience.

Also, please forgive any missed typos. I’ve been crazy exhausted this week

Prologue, Chapter1, Chapter2, Chapter3, Chapter4, Chapter5, Chapter6, Chapter7, Chapter8


You didn’t sleep the rest of the night; once you had calmed down, Dean had brought you a cup of tea and dragged a kitchen chair up the steps and leaned it against the wall, his feet kicked up and resting on the empty side of the bed.

You had asked him to leave, not wanting to ruin his chance at sleep, but he refused.

“It’s my job to protect you,” he stated as he lifted his feet up on the bed and settled himself into his chair. “From anything.”

His eyes finally fluttered shut around 3am, and you knew he would be exhausted in the morning.

You just laid there, curled up on your side and staring at the wall. You were terrified of what you would see if you dare closed your eyes.

Every so often, a few unexpected tears would escape, and by the time the first of day’s rays glowed through the doily curtains, the tears finally dried, and you wondered if you had finally run out.

You had never cried so much in your life, sharply reminding you just how cushy your life had been.

You flip over onto your other side, your knees tucking into your stomach as you stare at Dean; his head lolled to the side and his mouth parted. His arms were crossed over his chest—a position you determined to be his signature pose.

You think back to the conversation you had on your trip up, how it had just been Dean and his brother growing up. He clearly didn’t have the white picket fence and apple pie life you had grown up in, and you had to wonder if that held any motive to the man that he had become. Nothing about the sleeping man in front of you screamed “FBI” except the badge that noted him as a government agent.

Keep reading

Through the Looking Glass: Chapter 4

SPN FanFic

~Sam and Dean burst through your apartment door to save you from a nasty ghost attack. The amazing part is… Sam and Dean are characters on a TV show, so what the hell is going on?~

Reader x Dean, Sam

3,990 Words

Warnings: Reader has an unstoppable potty mouth. Angst, no fluff. Dean’s being mean. Mild violence and blood.

Go To: Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten -

Chapter Four: When You Slay Some Vamps-

The job was in a little town just outside of Denver, Colorado; over a six-hour drive from Lebanon. Six hours in the car with Sam and Dean. You couldn’t say you weren’t excited about this entire thing; road trip with the Winchesters, hunting vampires, this was awesome with a side of amazing.


Of course you were also terrified. How could you not be? You knew all about hunting technically as you’d yelled at Dean the night before, but really you knew nothing. You’d never even been in a fist fight; OK, one time you slapped your sister but that was once and it probably hurt your hand more than it did her face. You were prepared mentally, but not physically, and the boys knew that. But you were determined to help and they could not convince you to stay back. You were part of this now, no matter the reason why, and you weren’t about to sit around playing housewife. You were gonna fight.


You were probably gonna pass out too, but you were keeping yourself calm, spending most of the drive staring out the window or sitting on your hands when you got anxious. Sam kept the conversation moving, telling you things he thought would help. He was a good teacher: he spoke in scientific terms, but ones you could understand. Dean had more of a “shut up and do what I say” attitude towards teaching. “Vampires are stronger than you. You see one coming, you swing. You don’t think about it; you do not want one to get their hands on you because you’re too damn small to fight one off.” he said.

Keep reading

Thief prompt - ‘Need’

..

“A-and then there was this other boy at school and Sebastian was trying to break up a fight and I saw the boy grab his hand and squeeze it and when their fingers touched I almost died inside. I almost died.”

Tiny shorts exposed the expanse of smooth legs as they crossed, the thin limbs pale against the dark wood of the floor. Those young thighs pressed against the ground as the boy hunched over with his head in his hands, bitty fingers stuffing into dyed blue locks because he was just that forlorn.

“I froze. I just froze right up for the first time. For the second time maybe. When I saw mom and dad at the funeral, I froze when I saw them too. But it was different then, you know? B-because Sebastian he’s all I have. If some other kid takes him away what do I do? What do you think I should do?”

An enormous mound of fur knocked up against those little legs, the rotund middle of a consoling Nothing plopping right onto his back and answering the boy with a soft mewl.

Ciel sighed and gave a sad smile as he lied down on the floor, curling up right next to the cat as he gave the fattened flesh a pat.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe it was nothing, Nothing. Maybe I’m overreacting. I don’t know, it just hurt…it hurt me, my body even ached, my insides turned! I felt like I could cry right then and there so I dashed into the nearest classroom - embarrassing huh?”

The boy was beautiful when he gave a genuine smile, those pretty lips lifting into smooth cheeks, the way his soft strands of hair cascaded over the floor, the way his blue eyes cheered up as the cat pawed his nose and then gave it a rude shove.

“Hey! Tch, Nothing…you always know how to cheer me up. I’m so sad when he’s not here. I hate when he has to work late and it’s just us - doesn’t he realize we need him to be here?”

The cat huffed and both of their ears pricked up when they heard the rough cough of an engine that was all too familiar. It was Sebastian’s truck and it was pulling right into the driveway, and just as Ciel sat up he barely had even a second to try and hide his anguish before the door flew right open.

And in entered the man of the house himself.

“S-sebastian you’re home.”

Not only was he home but damn was he a piece of work with the way he barged in, slammed the door shut, and walked right on over to Ciel like he had a thing or two to say to the boy.

“Get the fuck up off the floor.”

Ciel’s blue eyes went from looking at polished shoes to long legs to knees and up and up, higher onto that uniformed torso, those broad shoulders, higher onto a tempting throat and the finest jaw imaginable, until finally - right at the top of that tower were the fiercest pair of eyes that could strike fear into the hearts of any human living or dead.

Except Ciel of course.

“No. Nothing and I were talking…”

“Get. Up.”

“NO!”

“What is it now don’t fucking give me this shit I raced over here after work because I knew you’d do this bullshit.”

Ciel gave a small pout and crossed his arms, lifting his chin and closing his eyes and showing every emotion he felt because he couldn’t even hide it.

“I SAID Nothing and I were talking, why don’t you go back to school and hold hands with all the boys for all I care.”

“Are you fucking kidding me…” Sebastian, in all his six-foot-seven glory, dressed like a corrupt motherfucker with a nice badge and bad attitude was having none of any single sentence Ciel spouted.

The man crouched down and got on one knee right by Ciel, grabbing a tiny elbow and giving it a rough squeeze because there was no way in hell he could ever learn how to handle anything gently.

“Ciel…I didn’t touch that kid intentionally, he fucking touched me out of nowhere. I know you were watching me.”

The boy was caught off guard and rolled his pretty blue eyes towards the man over twice his age, licking those young lips and feeling a bit sheepish as he was found out.

“H-how did you know?”

“I never take my eyes off of you.”

Ciel blushed right up and looked to the side, unable to handle such an honest answer.

“Ciel”

“Stop…”

“Ciel”

“Hah, please…I’m going crazy here.”

“Look at me.”

“No, go away, it was just a mistake go away okay.”

“Don’t GIVE me that shit. LOOK AT ME.”

“FINE! WHAT DO YOU W-”

Sebastian couldn’t take it and leaned forward, that enormous body towering over Ciel as the boy was forced into a deep, deep kiss. Their lips locked and their tongues pushed together, both closing their eyes and tilting their heads to the side to get in a nice suck or two.

“Ngh, I love it when you kiss me…” Ciel got a second to breathe and when he did he whispered the words onto his guard’s lips, their eyes opening right up to stare at one another - the man on one knee trying his best not to go crazy on the small thing.

“Sebastian…”

“Get off the floor.”

“Do you like kissing me?”

“I do”

“You do it because you want to?”

“No shit”

“If we never kissed again would you be upset?”

“I would.”

“Would you hurt someone to be able to kiss me again?”

“Of course.”

“Would you kill?”

“With my bare hands.”

Ciel’s lips suddenly craved the man’s touch, but he licked them instead and softly knocked his nose into Sebastian’s jaw just to get a good feel of how hot it was.

“You’d kill for me really?”

“I’d kill for you.”

“Hah - are we crazy?”

“Does it matter?”

“Do you need me?”

“I need you.”

“Are you mine?”

Sebastian grit his teeth and sat on the floor, his big hands grabbing small hips and forcing them forward. The tiny thing practically flew into his arms, and Ciel rested his elbows on each broad shoulder as creamy thighs parted to sit on that lap.

“Mm, Sebastian - you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“What do I always fucking say to that?”

“I don’t know-”

“Yes you do, don’t fuck with me - WHAT do I always say?”

“I…I don’t-”

“SAY IT.”

Sebastian got mean just because he didn’t know what nice even was, their faces close because the one thing he did know how to do was smell that fresh skin and give the fine throat a lick. A suck. Hell he even kissed it because he was that infatuated with it.

“Say it, Ciel.”

Ciel slowly let his head fall back and tried to keep composure, eyes rolling to the ceiling, heart hammering, hips rolling forward just to feel how hard he was making the man who left rough kisses up and down his neck.

“Y-you’re mine…”

“And WHAT else?”

“And…I’m yours.”

“AND?”

“And if anyone ever comes between us we…”

“We WHAT.”

“We kill them, ngh, we kill them.”

Sebastian rolled his tongue over the boy’s Adam’s apple and sunk his teeth into it only for a moment, only to taste that voice, to feel Ciel’s fingers suddenly clench into his hair. To pull back and get a good look at how the boy melted right in his arms.

Melted, that’s an understatement. Ciel was practically spilling his desires all over the place it was that intense.

“Ciel”

“D-don’t say my name like that.”

“Ciel, pay attention.”

“I am, I am.”

“Listen to me.”

“I’m listening ah god, I am - I know the rest.”

“Then say it. We’ve gone over it a million times.”

Ciel tried to calm his breathing and closed his eyes when his jaw was kissed, repeating words those lips had spoken a hundred times over.

“We…we will never betray each other.”

“And what else? What happens if you ever betray me?”

“You kill me.”

“And if I ever betray you?”

“I…I murder you.”

“Say it seriously.”

Ciel lifted his head to stare right at those piercing eyes, heart jumping the moment he saw him, the moment he felt those enormous hands sliding up his spine.

“I’ll murder you. I’ll fucking kill you on the spot.”

“Yeah? Are you sure about that, I’m not convinced.”

“I’ll stab you right in the chest.”

“Deep enough I hope.”

“As hard as I can.”

“Twist the blade while you’re at it.”

“I will. I’ll tear out your heart because it’s mine too.”

Sebastian loved that one, the words making those hands stuff under Ciel’s shirt and get a good taste of sweet, sweet flesh.

“Say it again.”

“It’s mine forever, you’re fucking mine Sebastian. Your body, your brain - your heart. They belong to me, I own them, I own everything, every inch of you.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Every inch is mine-”

“Your mouth is mine - give it to me.”

Before the order was even demanded Ciel lifted his little hips and locked both of their lips, kissing Sebastian like he needed it to live, jaws dropping in an instant - tongues suckling by the second.

Ciel moaned and rolled his thin waist forward, getting a good taste of all those inches as he pushed it between his legs. The male kissed Sebastian’s lips and then his jaw and throat, and he was lucky those big hands were bracing his back otherwise he would have slammed right down onto the floor.

“T-take off my clothes.”

Rock-hard and ready to get rough with it, Sebastian jerked his fingers over the flesh and lifted that shirt clear off of Ciel in a split second or less.

It revealed smooth skin and lifted rib-bones, driving the man to a point of insanity it was just that tempting.

“Touch me.” Ciel closed his eyes and leaned back, pleading a second time even though it wasn’t necessary. Teasing by showing off that flawless body. “Touch me.”

He already had those hands all over him.

“Grab me like you mean it.”

“If I grabbed you as hard as I meant it you’d be crushed to death.”

“You want me that bad?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s what I need.”

“You need me? Or just my body-”

“Everything. All of it. Your skin…”

Sebastian pushed those large palms hard against the aforementioned flesh.

“Your bones, your insides.”

Hands slid from spine to belly and soon glided up right over Ciel’s heart, giving it an uncontrolled grope because Sebastian had a thing for feeling it jump in the palm of his hand.

“Your voice. Your mouth. Your eyes. I need it more than anything, look at me. I need it did you hear me? Ciel, open your fucking eyes - I need it.”

Blue eyes never looked so sweet as they opened - as they stared right at Sebastian, as they got lost in that brute of a man.

“I need it to live.”

..

For The Long Run - Part 19

(M/N) = Male Name
Violence!

(GIF isn’t mine)

___________________

Tig pulled the piece of shit that had the nerve to fuck with him outside and threw him into the gravel parking lot.

“Stand up.” Tig ordered, but the younger man didn’t move.

Tig reached down, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him up to his feet to face him.
You and your sister rushed outside and you yelled to Tig, “Alex! Don’t!” but he wasn’t listening. You knew if a fight ensued Tig would win, you weren’t worried about that, you were worried about the police that would inevitably be called and they would arrest Tig with no questions asked.

“Tig, Please!” you begged.

Tig lessened his grip on (M/N)’s shirt and clenched his jaw.

“Leave. Now.” Tig commanded, shoving the prick forward and turning around to face you, taking a deep breath to calm himself before beginning to walk back to you.


“Yeah, walk away, you pussy whipped bitch!”



…………Damn.



You knew he couldn’t walk away now no matter how much you wanted him to. You turned to your sister, “Go home, don’t say anything to mom and dad,” you ordered her, pushing her in the direction of her car.
Your sister, normally one to put up a fight when you bossed her around, was visibly shaken and only nodded, running to her car and pulling out of the lot.

Tig was facing you, his breathing was fast and his jaw was clenched so tight you thought the muscles might burst through his skin.

“Tig he isn’t worth-” you began but he was already on top of the poor bastard, beating his face into the ground. Surprisingly, (M/N) was putting up a bit of a fight and landed a couple good punches, one busting Tig’s nose, but there was no way he was going to win this fight. Tig had already bloodied (M/N)’s face up so much he was unrecognizable. He was one of the best fighters you’d ever watched when he was just having fun. You’d never watched him fight angry until now and it was spine-chilling.

Behind you, you heard someone shout about calling the cops and you knew you had to get Tig out or else there would be hell to pay.
You ran up and grasped his arm, pulling him back as hard as you could while he fought to keep slugging his victim, slamming his head against the ground. Finally, two guys stepped in to help, nudging you out of the way. They pulled Tig back and kept him separated from (M/N) who thankfully was done talking… because he was unconscious.

You heard sirens off in the distance and knew there wasn’t much time before the police were here running Tig’s information and finding out exactly who he is and arresting him. You had to get him out.

“Tig!” you yelled getting his attention, his mind still in fight mode. “We have to get out of here come on!” you pulled his arm, urging him to snap out of it and follow you. Eventually he came back to earth and the two of you ran to his bike, hopped on it, and sped off just before the police rounded the corner on the way to the bar.

Tig pulled up to the house and you hopped off the bike and then turned to him, “I’m gonna open the garage, pull your bike in there,” you ordered and he looked raising his eyebrows in confusion, “(M/N) knows where my parents live, you need to ‘not be here’ when the police show up asking questions.” you said shooing him back to his bike and jogging inside.


Your parents were awake and in the living room with your sister when you and Tig came walking in the house from the garage. Their faces were cheerful at first…until they got a good look at your boyfriend whose face and knuckles were bruised and whose nose was bleeding.

“(Y/N) what in the hell happened?” your dad demanded answers.

“Daddy some guy was being real aggressive with me and when Tig told him to back off he started a fight,” you pouted and your dad’s expression softened.

Soon red and blue lights were flashing on the windows and you looked nervously at your parents.
“Let me handle this?” you told them pleadingly, walking towards the front door where they were knocking.

You opened the door and the police officer greeted you, “Are you (Y/N)?” he asked and you nodded. “Ma'am we just left the bar out on 5th and Thompson in response to a call about a fight, and the gentleman we spoke to there seemed to believe you were involved and gave us this address.”

“I was there, yes sir. A guy I knew in high school saw me at the bar and he grabbed me on the dance floor and refused to let go and started groping me, I was panicking and then this other guy came in to help me and the first guy attacked him,” you lied.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Glad to see you’re okay. Did you know the gentleman that stepped in to help you? He wasn’t at the bar and witnesses saw you leave with him,” the police officer questioned.

You shook your head. “I just knew he saved me from that asshole that was violating me and he offered me a ride home after he won the fight so I took it,” you shrugged.
“So you don’t know where he went after he dropped you off?”
“No sir. He left as soon as I stepped off the bike.”
“Okay,” the officer sighed, handing you a piece of paper, “here is my name and badge number, if you remember anything else about the guy, please call and let me know. We want a chance to get his side of the story.“

You nodded and thanked the officer for stopping by, closing the door and walking back inside the house.

Your parents were standing just out of sight, arms folded, eyes fixed on you. You sighed, "Crisis averted.”
“(Y/N), you just lied to a police officer. Why?”
“Because Tig didn’t do anything wrong, but he beat (M/N) up really bad and I know he would want to press charges,” you said matter-of-factly. “We don’t have time to deal with that.” you added.
Your parents both cast bewildered looks between themselves and you.
“Look, I was just doing what I had to do to save Tig from spending the night in jail,” you reasoned but they said nothing.
You sighed again, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed…”

Tig was in the bathroom, the shower was on but he was in front of the sink washing his face and looking in the mirror.
“Shithead only got one good lick in, but my nose bled like crazy.” he spoke. You ambushed him with a hug and pressed your face into his chest, “Thank you,” you whispered as tears welled up in your eyes.
“No, babe, I heard you out there, thank you for keeping my ass out of a cell tonight” he said as he hugged you back.

“I’m gonna shower up and then I need to talk to you,” he pulled back looking into your eyes, wiping a tear that had broken free with his thumb, “Nothin’ bad just gotta fill you in on a few things.”

You nodded and he gave you a quick kiss before you retreated to his room, sitting on the bed and waiting for him to finish and come talk to you. You remembered when he walked into the bar he had mentioned needing to talk to you, he was probably referring to the phone call he got before he came to the bar.


Tig told you about how the club had voted to patch over a charter in Nevada, and that Clay had requested for Tig to come back soon. He told you that he wanted to go ahead and get on the road in the morning since he had local cops looking for him now. You were a little disappointed because you expected to be able to spend more than just 5 days with your family but you understood that your trip took four days so altogether you were getting a two-week vacation out of it. He also explained that Clay had asked him to detour through Indian Hills, the home of the new SOA charter, and meet Happy and Chibs to help them with picking up some things from there and escorting them back to Charming.

“I don’t really want you to be a part of the transport, (Y/N). Its dangerous…” he paused nervously, “So I was thinkin’ maybe I get you a rental and you go back alone…” he trailed off.

Your ears got hot and your face flushed. “No.” you stated frankly. “We came on this trip together and we are finishing it together. I don’t care if its dangerous. Clay and Jax told me to take you away for a while and that’s what I did, they can’t make me split off from you now,” you pouted.

Tig exhaled loudly and rubbed the back of his neck, “C'mon, doll. Work with me here, please,” he begged.
“I’m going with you,” you folded your arms defiantly.
“Why you gotta give me such a hard time for?” he huffed, holding his arms out to you pleadingly but you just stared back at him, stone-faced.

He pulled out his phone, “Alright I’m gonna call Clay and Jax and ask if you can ride back – In the truck with Happy once we get there, NOT on my bike with me – but if they say no there’s nothing I can do and we’re gonna have to figure something else out. Deal?” he asked dialing the number.

You still said nothing as you watched him press the phone to his ear and wait for someone to pick up.

“Hey. Yeah she’s not havin’ it boss she wants to come with.”
“She said you and Jax commissioned her to get me away and bring me back safe and she intends to see it through.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s hard headed brother I don’t know what to tell you.” he laughed.
“She can ride back with Happy in the truck I don’t want her with me on the last leg.”
“Ah man… You kidding?”
“Ugh… Yep.”
“Ok. Alright,” he snapped his phone shut, looking at you.


“They okayed it, but he’s gonna send juice and a prospect too and now I gotta drive the truck and Happy is gonna ride my bike back,” He groaned.
You smiled excitedly pulling yourself to him to capture his lips in a deep kiss.
“You see the sacrifices I make for you, girl?” he muttered against your mouth, “I didn’t even get one single drink tonight and now I’m letting another man ride my bike. I better get something -” he squeezed your ass with both hands “-good out of this.”

You hummed, holding him tightly and kissing him more as you both fell onto the bed.

High School Reunion AU. wordcount: 3500~
Former Nerd!Dean, Artist!Castiel, confessions

A03

Dean stares up at the bare brick facade of the building in front of him. After walking away from this place over 15 years ago, he never thought he’d come back. Of course, that’s what most people tell themselves about their high schools.

It seems smaller now than it did when he was 17, but Dean assumes that’s just his perspective. Music and voices pulse from inside and Dean can feel the strange looks he’s getting from the other former students as they pass him on their way in.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he heads for the door. The first thing that hits him is the smell of the place, all at once overwhelmingly familiar and cloying: old wood, floor polish, the metal of the lockers, and the lingering odor of sweat from the student bodies normally lining the halls. Dean hates it but can’t help himself from taking another deep breath, the scent and memories washing over him as he does. He passes by the glass trophy case at

the entrance, glancing over the tarnished statues and plaques inside. None of them his, of course. Dean wasn’t on the football team or basketball team. The only time he’d spent at their school’s sports field was waiting for Sammy as he finished up soccer practice. Dean felt more at home tucked away in the metal shop or the tech room, tinkering on some project or playing Magic the Gathering with Harry and Ed.

As a bespectacled, awkward, and somewhat pudgy teenager, Dean had been the farthest thing from a jock anyone could imagine. He catches sight of his reflection in the glass of the case; can’t say that anymore, he supposes. The glasses are gone, thanks to Lasik surgery a few years back. The baby fat has long melted away, leaving only high cut cheekbones and physique his personal trainer could be proud of.

The only physical feature remaining of his adolescence is perhaps his stupidly bowed legs.

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COFFEE SHOP AU!!!

The Scent Of Fall (◕‿◕✿)

Pairing(s): SouMako, implied RinHaru

Warnings: OOCness, fluffy shit, a little language, bad editing, lame title, etc.

Description: My first one shot that i’ve done on here yay! I got this idea in my head yesterday and I HAD to write it out.Harmless flirting. One-shot. Just read it ;) Haru and Makoto work at Starbucks. Rin and Sousuke frequent said Starbucks on their police breaks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sousuke shivered and pulled up his fleece jacket collar. It was the beginning of October, and the cold weather gods had suddenly decided to grace Japan with it’s presence. Sousuke doesn’t like the cold. 

“I’ll pay for our drinks the next two times if you can do it.” Rin smirked at him as they walked along the sidewalk, stepping over the autumn leaves that skittered over the payment. 

“Ttch, I dunno man..” Sousuke knew he wasn’t the best at asking people out, and that certain sandy brunette that Rin was referring to made him somewhat nervous. "Who pays this time?“ 

Rin snickered. ”I guess you should, since I know you don’t have the guts to ask him out.” He grinned at Sousuke, knowing he wouldn’t back down from that comment. 

Sousuke snorted. He was nothing if not competitive. “We’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oi, Makoto.” Rin raised his gloved hand in greeting as he walked up to the tan-flecked marble counter with Sousuke trailing nervously behind him. Rin usually came to the Starbucks two to three times a week during his lunch break from policing, and only recently had Sousuke started coming along. Not that Makoto had been paying so much attention that he’d actually noticed this, of course. Haru was usually the one to take their orders, ironically (because Haru is so great with people, unlike me, Makoto thought sarcastically.), but at the moment he was in the dusty back room searching for more peppermint syrup. Although, he knew Haru usually insisted on working the counter at this time of day because he knew his darling Rin would be here. Makoto wasn’t too sure of what Haru saw in him..

Rin blew out a puff of air from between his cheeks, and drummed his fingers on the counter. “I think i’m going to try a pumpkin spice latte.” He looked to Sousuke. “You’re paying, right?” Sousuke absentmindedly scratched his neck and nodded in response, trying to be nonchalant and not respond to the double-meaning behind the question, (You’ll ask him out, right?) hoping it wouldn’t shake his confidence by making him over-think it. “Mm.”

“Okay. I’m going to grab a table.” Rin sauntered off, seeming somewhat disappointed because he didn’t see his precious Haru.

Makoto smiled his friendly smile at Sousuke, and Sousuke slightly blushed in response. 

Ah, shit. Don’t think about how cute he looks.

"Soo, you’re Rin’s friend?” He asked, his voice rough-sounding from allergies. (Or maybe nervousness.) It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know this. Or his name. Or how he knew Rin…

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since elementary school. I’m guessing you’re new around here?” Makoto put his elbows on the counter and leaned over. 

Sousuke cleared his throat. ”Yeah, I just started working for this district.” He glanced down at the badge pinned to his shirt. “I’ve known Rin since the beginning of our training program.”

“Oh, that’s neat.” Makoto smiled and then glanced behind Sousuke, where a line was starting to form.

Neat? Makoto scolded himself. What kind of lame-o says neat anymore?? He stood up from his lazy stance. 

“Sorry, but we’re kind of busy today. Not too much time for chatting. What can I get you?”

“Ah, what do you recommend?” Sousuke’s face held a lazy smirk and Makoto tried not to focus too long on any one of his features, like his white teeth or how his lips were curled up into a half-smile, or how his eyes were this really pretty, intoxicating shade of sea-glass blue green..

“W-well,” Makoto stuttered, “I really like the cinnamon dolce latte. But some people don’t really like cinnamon, so I don’t know if you’d-”

“Sounds perfect.” He interrupted, recognizing Makoto’s babbling as a nervous tick.

“Okay!” Makoto smiled that dang smile again. “And what’s your name?”

Sousuke suddenly felt daring. “Why? Are you trying to flirt with me?”

Makoto’s face immediatley flooded with color.

“Ah, u-um, we’re supposed to write the names of the customers on the cups for when we call out the orders..” Makoto sheepishly grabbed a cup and sharpie, to prove his point.

Crap. So much for being daring.

“Yeah, I was just kidding. Totally knew that. It’s Sousuke.” Makoto quickly scribbled down the name and began making the drinks, while Sousuke moved along to the register.

Haru came through from the back double doors at this point, having successfully located the peppermint syrup. He returned to the register and rang Sousuke up. Sousuke paid-via visa card-and found Rin sitting at a small round table by the corner window.

Sousuke half-sighed half-grunted as he sat down.

“So?” Rin raised an eyebrow, curious to know the outcome.

“Nah.. I tried to flirt a little but he got really frickin’ embarrassed.”

Rin laughed. “You’re such a pansy, dude. Seriously.”

“Whatever.” Sousuke took out his phone and started flipping through his texts, annoyed and trying to distract himself.

Haru’s monotone voice sounded over the speakers. “Rin and Sousuke,”

“I’ll get it.” Rin hopped up and quickly strode over to the counter. Sousuke almost snickered at how eager he was. Lovesick dummy. 

Rin returned with the two drinks, complaining about how hot they were. 

Sousuke took it from him and turned to where Makoto supposedly wrote his name on the foam cup.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” Rin looked up as he sipped from his fall scented drink.

“He gave me his number.”

And sure enough, after ‘Sousuke’ in a tiny text there was a note: ‘Text me, 618-225-3442’ and underneath, ‘❤️  Makoto’

“On the cup?”

“Yeah.” Sousuke ran his thumb over the print, partially grinning.

“I didn’t think he would’ve had it in him. He’s always been so shy.” Rin took another sip from his drink and grimaced.

“Ugh. Does this mean I have to pay for drinks the rest of the week?”

“You know it does.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Makoto leaned his back against the counter after they walked out. He’d told Haru what he did and Haru felt the need to keep teasing him about it.

“You should’ve asked him if he wanted whipped cream.”

“Haru!!”

17 Spells (SEVENTEEN x Reader)

Warning: Slight swearing, bullying

CHAPTER 1-??

NEXT CHAPTER: 2

Ring! Ring! Ring!

You groaned as you were snapped out of your sleeping spell. Same thing, just a different day, is what you’d say often. Sitting up and rubbing your eyes as you turned off your alarm, you felt the warm sunlight shining through your window. Looking towards it you huffed. It seemed like your neighborhood was never quiet. The sounds of neighbors arguing, loud dogs, or hungry cats… Though, you honestly liked it like that. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you slowly put your feet onto the floor, hissing a bit at the coldness. It was winter, so your house was going to be like an igloo.

As you scuffled to your door you were bombarded with someone tackling you. You screeched in confusion and shock. “Eh!?”

“Y/N!” By the sound of her voice, it was your mother alright. She was also very excited for you? What was going on? “You were accepted into Hwan Jan Ji High School!”

“Hwan Jan Ji High School!?” You repeated almost in complete shock. The school for talented students from wealthy families? It cost a fortune just to take the test they had to get in. “H-How? Why?” You never remembered signing up for such a thing. And why would you? That school was full of stuck up rich kids that have no idea what it’s like to work. Since you had two jobs to help support your family, it was irritating running into them, hearing their slanter about commoners. Just… Why would a rich school like that request you, a commoner, attend their school?

“Your test scores for the state! They were so great, they just had to have you here!” Your mother began, “They said they’d pay for you to attend there as well!” What? This had to be a dream.. you had to be dreaming. Your mother finally let go of you, smiling from ear to ear. “Y/N.. I know you may be a little nervous.. But I know you can make new friends easily.”

New friends? “Whoa whoa whoa.. I never said I agreed to go!” You said, eyes widening in slight panic. She frowned before she crossed her arms, “Y/N… Are you saying you’re going to throw away your chance of being the singer you wanted to be?” The disappointed tone in her voice made you suck in air sharply.

“Mom… It’s a school full of rich kids, I have no business going there!” You said shaking your head, “Besides, who says I can’t get noticed attending the school I am now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, darling. But I already accepted it.” Your mother said shrugging her shoulders and getting up. She brushed off her knees as your mouth hung open. How could she!?

“WHAT!?” You yelled, standing up in panic. “WHY EVEN ASK ME IF YOU ALREADY AGREED TO IT?”

“So you couldn’t throw away a chance like this. I knew you’d chicken out, so I said, I wasn’t going to let you. You’re welcome.” She said as she walked out the room. You stood there in your room, almost feeling like you were about to faint or something.

You had no idea what was in store for you at Hwan Jan Ji High School…

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Angelic Janitor

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

Pairing: GabrielxReader
Word count: 1,680
Warnings: None
Author: Brittiny
Request: Anonymous. Since I’m complete Gabriel trash, I was wondering if you could do a Janitor!Gabriel X Reader, where the reader is a hunter checking out the strange occurrences and takes a liking to Gabe! (I’m not sure if ya’ll do smut, but maybe some of that? No pressure or anything!) I trust you’ll do this justice. ;)
A/N: I MAY do a second part for the smut. All depends on if I’m stuck on other fics, and have motivation.
Tagging: @fand0maniac @crowleyshellonheels


Yes, Uncle Bobby. Yes, I know. No! I don’t need help. Good God, I’m a grown woman. I’m hanging up now.” You sighed, shaking your head. Your uncle knew that you were heading for a nearby case involving some strange occurrences. He was convinced that you shouldn’t go alone, like he did with most hunts. He went through the usual warnings that happened every couple weeks, despite the fact that you were very capable, and could take care of yourself. You knew that he meant well, but it was infuriating at times.

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from the ground up

Prompt: Soulmate!AU where a tattoo isn’t set from the moment you’re born, but whatever tattoos your soulmate gets, you get too. It’s all cool because you kind of like the designs, except you also feel the pain of getting a tattoo and that sucks because you’re kind of in the middle of an exam right now and it’s getting harder to concentrate on your work.
Words: 13K~
Read it here on AO3
A/N: Katy has been asking me to write a soulmate!AU forever and I’ve always found them kind of daunting, but you do this kind of thing for your best friend, right? This is from this list of prompts. I used Bob’s IRL tattoo for reference.

Clarke’s tattoo starts to show on a rainy Friday morning while she’s taking a shower, trying to mentally prepare herself for her biology exam. She put off taking biology until the last possible semester, and now this is the only thing standing in the way of her starting her residency.

She’s shaving her legs when she feels it - a pinprick sensation on the inside of her right wrist. She plays soccer, so she’s used to the weird aches and pains she gets every now and then, but this feels different. It goes away, so she shakes her head and finishes what she’s doing, only getting distracted totally when she’s shampooing her hair and feels a needle.

Ow–” she hisses, and then freezes when she looks at her wrist and sees a small line appearing on her skin in dark black ink. “No, no, no–”

And then as soon as it starts, it stops again. The line is still there, the dark color sticking out in stark contrast with her pale skin, and she knows what this means. Her heart pounds because she’s heard of this, heard of people who feel a pain on their body and then see a mark, a tattoo where his or her soulmate have one just like it.

“I don’t have time for this,” she tells herself primly, trying to ignore the way her voice shakes. Ignoring the pain she still feels on her wrist, she towels off and gets dressed, only wincing every few minutes as she feels the unmistakable pinch of the tattoo completing itself on her wrist.

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Fire In The Sky

For: Kath @bioluminescentwriting

By: Hawa @cosanostrafiction

Summary: Ali Stanton is a police Officer, she likes to think of her job as more than serving and protecting the people of Travis, New York. Harry Styles is a protester of sorts, he likes to believe that he supports the people causes. A Cop/Protester AU where everyone is just trying to help everyone else.

Word count: 8.7K

Main Pairings: Harry and OFC

December 2013

On December 30th the wind blew just a little harder than usual in Travis, New York. Officer Stanton thanked the heavens that she remembered to wear gloves before leaving her apartment that morning. She was also glad that she tied her scarf from Kashmir around her neck just like the villagers taught her: it was thick and a simple knot but it kept her neck nice and cozy. She smiled as the sun began to show itself on her walk to work, and sipped from her second coffee of the day as she avoided ice on the pavement. It’s not coffee like Costa Rica but it’s enough to wake her up and get her in the zone for her exciting day of protecting and serving the people of Travis, New York.

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ontae; traveller; 2100 words

Jinki is a nervous driver. He’ll admit it. On any given day, you won’t find him going over 60. Even if it’s the freeway. Especially if it’s the freeway. He likes to hug the side of the road, likes to say it’s because he enjoys the view. Of what? Kibum would scoff. The half-abandoned farms? The deadbeat towns? The payphones that have been defunct for fifteen years?

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