one of these days i will take my time with something

The First Time With Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by syeons

Genre: romance/fluff
Pairing: Jungkook/You
Length: 12203 words
Summary: This a series based on all of your first times with Jungkook from your childhood till when you both reach adult hood.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 /PART 6


THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED

“You tell me Y/N, do you want this?” he brushes his thumb over your cheek “Do you want to kiss me?”

Before you could ever give your response to him, reality hits the shameless boy like a train. What was he thinking when he asked you such a question? His sudden tendency to take your feelings for granted by working his moves on you, wasn’t how he ever wanted it to be. He was curious and quite greedy about having the chance to win your first kiss. Was it still like a competition for him? Was he toying with you or was he being serious?

Jungkook was your best friend and his intentions were never ill to begin with. You knew from day one, when he held your hand and decided to be your friend back then in kindergarten, that he was anything but harmful. You were well aware of the fact that he could be trusted, and all these years of friendship proved that he was a keeper. Maybe you could trust him? But what would it change? Only jungkook had the answers and decisions to take in this very moment, yet he suddenly stepped away from you

What am I doing, right now? Jungkook would suddenly ask himself as he eyed your lips up-close for the first time in his life

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four down

Summary: In which Nico gets his wisdom teeth removed (as well as a couple inhibitions) and Will’s just trying to get them both home without crashing the car.

By the time Will walks into the operating room, Nico’s already upright, sitting straight-backed in the dentist’s chair and tapping his hands on his knees in a sharply quick rhythm. Will suppresses a smile at the way Nico’s looking at the nurse as she gently opens his mouth to put gauze in, like he’s not sure whether all this is fight-or-flight worthy or absolutely hilarious.

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anonymous asked:

You are the first and only writer I have read for this fandom. I love your work so much, I've re read all your Arrow stories twice (even the Firefly one even though I've never watched it). Do you have any favorite Olicity fics to recommend to keep me from going crazy my first hiatus? (I binged the first 4 seasons last year)

This is awesome!! Thank you! I’m super honored. And do I have recs? Oh yes, I have recs. 

First rec isn’t actually a fic, it’s a resource… @theolicitylibrary. If you want recs, they’ve got ‘em. If you want a specific trope or rating or genre, they’ve got that, too. Have a hankering for a fic where Oliver and Felicity are business rivals? There’s a link for that. Where she’s the vigilante instead? There’s a link for that, too. Where one of them is a werewolf? Yup. They’re an amazing resource and you can lose days (and weeks and months) going through lists of alpha/omega tropes and rockstar AUs and friends-to-lovers fics. 

But more specifically… how about I rec some authors, too? I haven’t been reading much lately - I spend all my time writing - so I’m more comfortable reccing authors I know are amazing and whose works I’m looking forward to catching up on. They’re all consistently excellent. This is by no means an all inclusive list.

@dust2dust34 - My co-writer for FiCoN and personal fav (though I admit to no small amount of bias). If you want smut and you want details and mining a scene for feelings, Bre is your girl. She has plenty of oneshots to choose from as well as some multichapter fics.  

@machawicket - Look, I can’t overstate Danielle’s skills as a writer. My husband doesn’t even read my fic but he likes hers. Her writing is funny, sweet, sexy and heartbreaking in turn but it’ll never leave you unsatisfied. She’s a master. 

@anthfan - Nikki is one of those writers that’s so good she makes you forget you’re reading a story, because it’s just something you’re living. It’s an experience. Her characterization is spot-on and her plots are super engaging. She writes both one-shots and longer stories. They’re all worth your time.

@hannasus - Susannah’s writing is the perfect balance of detailed exposition and tight narrative that lets you feel like you’ve experienced the whole setting in just a few lines. Add to that fully in-character characterization and interesting plots that keep you reading and you really can’t go wrong. I recommend reading her Something Like Fate series ASAP as she’s adapted it into the basis for an original novel (which she’s publishing later this year) and it may not be up on AO3 a whole lot longer. 

@rosietwiggs - I can always tell Rosie’s work in just a few lines. Her narrative voice is so very distinctive and so gripping that it pulls me in effortlessly. I don’t believe she’s writing for Arrow anymore, but even her unfinished works are worth a read. I especially recommend The New Normal, Lengths and How The Mighty Fall In Love.

@supersillyanddorky06 - I’d be surprised if you hadn’t heard around about Matty’s writing because she’s right at the core of the Olicity fandom’s best known fanfics. With good reason. She’s prolific, plotty, smutty and evocative. If you have a weakness for Bratva!Oliver, I’d start here. 

@jsevick - I first met Jaimie after reading her Jurassic Park AU (really!) and being both delighted and amazed that she could make it work. I’m extremely lucky to have had her help as my beta pretty much ever since. If you like my writing, she’s a big part of it (along with @alizziebyanyothername). While she hasn’t posted in a while, her stories are just fun and if you like Gilmore Girls, her Arrow AU for Gilmore Girls is a treat!

@realityisoverrated-fic - I have no idea how you would feel about Smoaking Billionaires, Anon (I personally love it), but I’ve got to very highly recommend her Infinite Love series. At 110 parts and counting, it deals extensively with Oliver, Felicity and Tommy’s family longterm, including their kids. It’s alternately hot, sweet, and heartbreaking. But, most of all, it’s just well-written and interesting. If you’re willing to read them as a triad, I cannot recommend this strongly enough.

@geneeste - I would pay for more of Caught a Long Wind. Quite literally. But, that aside, Genie is a top notch writer. Whether her one-shots, WiPs or brilliant, ongoing epic co-written work with @machawicket, everything she writes should be devoured. 

@juliesioux - Julie uses the setting in a story as another character. There’s so much life to the world she puts her characters in that it practically breathes. Above that, she doesn’t shy away from hard topics. She will rush in head-first and dig deep to explore what her characters are going through. When you read her work, take her warnings seriously, but if you’re looking for a rich story to read that challenges you, she’s the perfect option to turn to.

@thatmasquedgirl - One of the most prolific Olicity fic authors (with 110 fics, including the absolute opus Technical Assistance). She’s consistently excellent, creative and she gives us as a fandom a whole lot to read. You can probably spent a huge chunk of hiatus happily buried in her work.

@entersomethingcleverhere - As a rule, I do not read first person stories. Not even when they’re published books sitting on shelves at my bookstore. I will break that rule for her writing. I like it that much. It’s heartfelt, moving, well-paced, and the connections between her characters are both real and evolving as you go. 

@arrow-through-my-writers-block - Shelby is… well, she’s just fun! She’s a solid writer who never disappoints. She’s got quite a few one-shots and a few ongoing multi-chapters. She’s probably best known for Starstruck, but all of her work is worth reading.  

@wagamiller - I just really love wagamiller’s work. Like a lot. There are very few authors I have on alert, but wagamiller is. Stories that make me laugh out loud are few and far between, but the 35B series surely did (as did @machawicket‘s Unbearable Hotness of Being, btw). Strong, sharp, witty writing that will leave you with a grin on your face.

@callistawolf - When I think of Callie’s work, I think of the fanfic version of sitting down with some hot cocoa and curling up with a warm blanket to watch a Hallmark Christmas special. She’s consistently excellent about finishing her work, which is lovely, and you can pretty much always count on a feel-good romantic ending. 

@hopedreamlovepray - Writing one-shots that stick with your reader is hard. Keeping a story to 1-2k and still being impactful is even harder. She absolutely manages it every time. Hope27 (as she’s known on AO3, so you can find her) has something like a hundred Olicity fics. These are, in my opinion, absolutely perfect if you want to lose yourself in a story on the train to work or during your lunch hour. 

@dettiot - Mel has a lot of great stories (like really great). My favorite is probably the “ink in my pen ran dry” series, but that’s a really tough call. Core Curriculum is super hot. The Felicity Stark series (crossover with Avengers-verse) is brilliant and fun and made me giddy while reading it. Beauty in the Breakdown is excellent. Jerry the EA series features one of the best takes on a relative OC I’ve read in fics. Love is Red made me squeal like a teenager with excitement (I’m not ashamed; it was warranted). And Two Men, Same Name (written with @melsanfo) is one of those that I am absolutely dying for the time to catch up on. While I’m at it, let’s rec Mel Sanfo, too. Her Masquerade is another novel-length fic absolutely worth a read. You really can’t go wrong with either of these ladies. 

@ash818 - Ash is freaking awesome. So, here’s the thing. Her Legacy series is mind-blowingly good. I have to admit, I’ve only read The Man Under The Hood in the series (this is intentional, for a reason you’ll see in a moment, but you need to read all of her work ASAP, okay? You do). This series… you’ve got future, married Olicity with teenage children as they continue their mission. There’s action, plot, heartbreak, angst, love, everything you could want. It’s in first person from their son’s perspective which is something I would probably never have clicked on in the first place had it not come highly recommended, but good lord is it amazing. All of her characters have life. All of them have depth. Her OCs are fully formed and vital to the story without overshadowing characters you already know. I haven’t read the later stories because after I decided to continue on with FiCoN verse, I didn’t want to inadvertently shade my views on Olicity’s growing family and continuing mission with anything she did in her series. If anything I do happens to run parallel to her work, I want to know beyond any doubt that it’s 100% coincidence. But her stories are something I’m absolutely itching to get to read… eventually. Her writing is excellent.  

@tinaday3w - I’m tempted to say “JUST READ IT” but that’s probably not enough… But really, just read it. No one does slow burn like Tina. Victorian era AU with pirate!Oliver? Yes, please. Hello. I’ll take two.

@emmilynestill - She’s just so good. And sooooo hot. I don’t know if you know this, Anon, but writing a good sex scene is hard. You don’t want your reader pulled out of the scene by wondering if a position is actually possible or when underwear came off (or if it did) or how gravity isn’t making them collapse. Like… smut is difficult. But it reads so effortlessly with Emmilyne’s writing. And, beyond that, she weaves it in beautifully with plot that keeps you wondering what’s next and emotion that builds and grows in an organic way. Orgasms and organic feelings. Honestly, what else could anyone really want?

@ruwithmeguys - Jess will gut you and leave you asking her to do it again. Indecent Proposal… just… read the warnings and be ready and read it with a lot of time on your hands and probably in chunks because ouch. But still… read it.

@academyofshipping - Sarah has this dry sense of humor that comes out in her fics that’s as clever as it is fun. Fluffy, funny, smart, cute and rich with feeling, Sarah’s writing is consistently strong. 

@someonesaidcake - Felice is fantastic for completed, multichapter AU fics. She has quite a few and I’m pretty sure every single one included smut at some point (if that’s your thing) as well as plot. 

And… I’ve spent like an hour and a half on this which was a lovely diversion for my day. I know I’m forgetting amazing people but I have to stop here. When in doubt, take the title of a fic you like, google that name in quotes along with “rec list” and find someone’s list where that story was included, then explore the others. Or, check the bookmarks on AO3 of an author you like, that’s a great place to mine for fics, too. And, again, I can’t rec @theolicitylibrary enough. That said… happy reading, Anon! We’ll get through this hiatus together… through fic and sheer force of will. ;-)

Songbird-Ch. 5

Mystic Messenger Mafia AU 

ch1║║ch2║║ch3║║ch4

Word Count: 2,407

[Violence/Murder]

~A/N: I was going to add the smut in this chapter but I decided I would separate it into it’s own, that way people that don’t want to read the NSFW can just skip it! Sorry it’s been soooo long, guys! My life is just hectic so it’s hard for me rn but I hope you enjoy this chapter! 


     "I heard you the first time, Saeyoung,” V spoke softly, his hand gripping the head of his cane as he sat unmoving in the chair.

     “Y’know, a good way to indicate you’ve heard someone is to actually reply. Just a tip,” Saeyoung snapped. “You’re being alarmingly calm about this, considering the shit storm that’s decided to roll it’s way through us.”

     V sighed, though his vacant gaze was unwavering. “I’m anything but calm. However… acting out in hysterics isn’t going to solve our problem. Talking like adults…deciding our next course of action. That’s what gets things done. Point a finger at me again, Saeyoung, and I’ll pop you in the mouth myself.”

     Though they both knew he would never, but still Saeyoung slumped down in the nearest chair with a sour face. V could barely make it out, but he knew the expression well. It had been the same since he was a child. The corners of his mouth pulled down and his brow pinched together with fury, like it’s the last face he’ll ever make, and V tried to hold back a fond smile.

     “Do you have any inkling on who it might be?” Jumin finally spoke up.

     “If I did, I wouldn’t be here talking to you, now, would I?” Saeyoung huffed, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

     “Sorry to interrupt,” an unexpected voice found its way into the room.

     “Jaehee, what is it?” Jumin straightened up as she closed the door behind her.

     Her face held hesitancy and she cleared her throat before finally speaking.

     “It’s about the latest bootleg shipment. Apparently, it’s gone missing,” she reported.

     “What the fuck do you mean, missing?” Saeyoung sat up from his chair.

     “I don’t know how to make it any more clear…” she made a quick glance at Saeyoung before returning her eyes to V. “The truck never made it to the drop point. No one has seen it or heard from the driver.”

     “This is not good,” Jumin hinted.

     “No shit,” Saeyoung said, the look on his face making it clear that his gears were turning.

     The room was silent as a church, everyones eyes on each other as if thinking the same thoughts. They were in good standing with the neighboring families. Everyone knew their territories and happily stuck to them. Plenty of police force names lined their payroll…so why now?

     “It could be the coppers,” Saeyoung said with a serious face.

     “It could,” said V, “it could be a number of things.” Jumin nodded in agreement. “ First things first. Jaehee, bring me more info on this missing shipment. I don’t care if you have to knock down the drivers’ mothers’ door, I want info. Find Frank, see if he’s heard of any recent booze busts.”

     “Of course,” Jaehee nodded and left the room as quickly as she could.

     “Saeyoung,” V continued, “you know what to do. I have my hands full as it is with this wedding situation.”

     “Oh yeah,” Saeyoung peeked through the blinds onto the courtyard. A crew of men were still setting up tents and tables in preparation. “Is this really the best time for this?”

     “It’s Marcos daughter, of course it’s a good time. When things get rough…that’s when we need celebration. There’s no better time to boost morale. Besides, he’s one of our best, and I seem to remember him saving your ass from a pinch more than a few times,” V smiled.

     Jumin decided to chime in. “Like his first soup job?” Both V and Jumin gave a hearty laugh. “Driving around the whole damned city with the safe in the struggle buggy,” Jumin continued, “before Marco showed up to save your ass. And how much did you end up cracking for, again?”

     “You know damn well how much,” Saeyoung sneered.

     “Then there’s no reason you can’t say it. Go ahead, hot shot. Remind us how much you swiped.”

     Saeyoung’s face turned sour, like the words were bile in his throat. “…Ten dollars,” he finally barked.

     Both of the men roared with laughter for a moment at the memory, so much so that Jumin seemed to wipe a tear from his eye.

     “Okay, okay,” V breathed in deeply when he stood from his chair, “leave the poor kid alone. Come on, let’s get some dinner.”

     He began to trail behind Jumin but paused for a moment, placing his hand firmly on the shoulder of Saeyoung and squeezing just once. His body was stiff and serious.

     “I’m trusting in you, Saeyoung. Find that son of a bitch,” V’s voice was almost a whisper, and as quickly as he had faced him he was now turned around, satisfied with his message.

     Saeyoung watched as they left, taking note of the fact that V seemed to be favoring his cane a lot more in the last few days. The weight of what that could mean fixed heavily on his shoulders, but his body remained stiff and strong with his resolve.

****

     There were joyous smiles all around as the sound of Zen’s singing filled the tent. Suddenly everyone was a hoofer, even the tough burly men could be found rolling up their sleeves and dancing with their gals to the music. It was strange to see the cities most dangerous criminals laughing and jabber-jawing, seemingly carefree. You had to admit, even you couldn’t help but get out there, taking Yoosung for a time as your partner. Now you took a break, fondly overlooking the bride with her done-up chestnut hair, her and her groom with goofy smiles as he spun her around.

     “How about that food,” Jaehee walked up beside you.

     “Look at you, all dolled up!” you smiled as you grabbed at the lace of her dress, “is it because…” you gestured with your eyes to Zen.

     “It’s a wedding,” she huffed but a pink tint spread on her face, “last I heard, you were supposed to dress nice,” she said matter-of-factly. “Besides, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

     You gave her a shy thanks before she thrust a bottle into your hands.

     “Say, do me a favor and bring that bottle to my table? They’re dry but…I wanna sit and listen to the rest of this song,” she mused.

     “Whatever you say, boss.”

     The table was half empty, two women you didn’t recognize and a guy you’d seen before on various jobs. He was portly with a kind face, practically jumping for joy when you placed the bottle on the table.

     “Join us, have a drink!” he shouted and poured you a glass quickly, sliding it in front of you as you sat.

     “I’m Betty,” the blonde girl to your left produced a perfect smile. “Isn’t this party just swanky? I’d love to get a look inside that house,” she sighed, sloshing the liquid in her glass before taking a sip.

     “She means inside the bedroom, particularly,” the brunette piped up. She had quite a bit of rouge on, or perhaps she was just that drunk, you couldn’t quite tell. The waves of her hair pressed neatly against her oval face.

     “Will you quit razzing me, already,” the blonde stuck her tongue out.

     “Anthony!”

     The source of the voice was none other than Saeyoung. He and two other men approached the table in earnest.

     “Boss,” Anthony stood from his seat at once.

     Saeyoung gave him a few enthusiastic taps on the cheek as a greeting.

     “You haven’t come to say hi! Now I see why,” he laughed and winked at the ladies sitting in their seats, their bodies leaning in interest at the exchange.

     Saeyoung snatched the glass from Anthony’s hand, draining the contents into his mouth with one solid gulp. He gave an immediate look of disgust, shaking his head as he placed the cup on the table.

     “How can you drink this foot juice,” he pat the man’s broad back, “come on. I got the good stuff inside. You don’t mind if I steal him away, do you, ladies?”

     “Rhatz! No…go ahead,” they both nodded despite their pouty expressions. They were clearly hoping to be invited.  

     “Excuse me, then,” Anthony remarked before being led off by the men.

     Saeyoung tipped his hat to you before joining the other three in a laugh about something you hadn’t quite heard, their voices trailing as they made their way to the house. Something about the way that went made you feel cold. You’d never seen them interact much before. So, while everyone got lined up, occupied with giving their gifts to the happy couple, you decided to sneak off and see what they were up to. You couldn’t miss and opportunity to hear important information, and if anyone caught you, you’d just say you were looking for the powder room.

     Sure you had seen them go around this exact corner, but the grounds among the house were vast and confusing. You’d been here less than a handful of times, and never were you allowed to just wander around V’s house. The sounds of the music and chatter faded more and more, until you found a door slightly ajar.

     Your chest tightened with adrenaline and you stilled your breathing before peeking in the crack. The first thing you saw was Anthony, bloody faced and curled over on the floor, followed by a low hum of voices. A swift kick landed on his chest, the foot belonging to none other than Saeyoung.

     “It’s just like I said,” Antony hacked between his words, “the c-cop is my neighbor…our…our daughters play together…that’s all,” his hand gripped at his chest and his large frame began to shiver with pain. “I don’t know n-nothin about-“

     Saeyoung cut him off, bending down and grabbing Anthony by the collar.

     “You know what I think? I think you’re a fucking liar. I think you know a lot of things, things you might have told that cop friend of yours. And I just can’t have that,” he puffed a heavy breath of air before bringing his fist down thrice on the side of the mans face. “You fucked with my money.”

     It was a pain like no other creeping inside of you. Watching another person get beat, knowing it could be…should be you, instead. The guilt of it all was too much to handle. This man had a wife…a daughter. Sickness threatened to rise up and spill from your mouth.

     Saeyoung pulled a gun, his fingers readying it with a harsh click. Piss soiled the front of Anthony’s pants, streams of pleading words jumbled together through tears. However, the gun pointed swiftly towards the door. Towards you. All you could manage was a gasp before the trigger was pulled.

     The bullet blast through the door just above your head, raining shards of wood into your hair. After taking a moment to remember how to breathe, you kicked the door open, letting your rage take over.

     “Did you seriously just fucking shoot at me?!” you let out an exasperated scream.

     “Depends,” he stood up, dropping a now passed out Anthony back onto the floor and facing you with a calm expression, “did you seriously just fucking eavesdrop.”

     “Are you out of your fucking mind?” you said shakily.

     “Relax,” he drew the word out in a joking manner, “it’s not like I hit you,” he said casually, shrugging his shoulders.

     “She’s right,” another man spoke up, “what if V heard…we’d be in a shit load of-“

     “Ugh,” Saeyoung groaned, “you guys are too serious. No one heard, the music is too loud and they’re all drunk anyway.”

     He nudged at Anthony with his foot, the body still limp and unmoving.

     “Get him out of here and finish him, he smells like piss,” Saeyoung said.

     The two men each carried an end, hastily removing him from the room. And then it was silent for a moment.

     “Are you gunna keep staring at me or you gunna say what you wanna say?” Saeyoung broke the silence.

     “You have blood on your sleeves,” you quietly pointed out.

     Saeyoung inspected his arms. “So I do,” he rolled them up to conceal the stains before grabbing a towel to wipe his knuckles.

     More silence hung heavy in the room.

     “What if you’re wrong?”

     “About?” Saeyoung replied curtly.

     “Anthony. What if you’re wrong…won’t you feel bad?”

     “Now why would I go and feel something like that?” he smiled quizzically.

     “You can’t possibly be that cruel.”

     “And how do you know what I’m like,” he threw the towel before turning to you. “One mans life means nothing in comparison to what we have built. I’ll do what I have to to keep us alive.”

     “Even if that means killing the innocent?”

     “Doll, none of us are innocent.”

     That may be true, but it didn’t mean someone deserved to die. Laws are in place for a reason. The way they operated was barbaric, but of course you couldn’t say that. Not unless you wanted to end up in the same body bag as Anthony.

     “You’re too trusting. That’s how you end up dead, don’t forget that. Why do you care so much how I feel, anyway?” Saeyoung asked, stepping a bit closer to you.

     “I…I don’t know,” you admitted.

     Why did you care? You had a desperate need to know he had some good in him. Something about his character drew you in. Sometimes, when you were together, you could even forget that you both were on opposing sides.

     “Why are you here?” his voice was bold, his feet carrying him even closer to you.

     “I don’t know,” you said once again.

     His hand brushed the soft skin of your cheek, wiping at the rouge. “Are you stuck on me?”

     His face softened and the corners of his mouth formed a small smile. He held still, waiting for you to say something, anything. As much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the rapid beating of your heart at his touch. The look on your face must have said it all.

     Ever so slowly he pressed his lips against yours into a surprisingly gentle kiss. When you didn’t pull away, each kiss became rougher, all the built up tension releasing into this single act. He pressed himself against you and you moaned softly, realizing you had wrapped your hands around his neck at some point and pulled him closer.

Burrito Blanket Batmom - Bruce Wayne/Batfamily x Reader

I kinda love the idea of a “burrito blanket” batmom haha, and since I thought the request from anonymous I received was quite similar, I mixed them up together. Hope you’ll like it, particularly you @dannysanime, as usual, feedbacks are very welcome :) : 

(my masterlist : http://ellana-ravenwood.tumblr.com/masterlist)

__________________________________________________

-Are you alright mother ?

It’s early in the morning when your youngest son finds you in the living room, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, eyes wide open and not really looking at anything in particular. You don’t even react as he approaches you. 

-Mother ? Hey ? Mom are you alright ? 

Finally, you turn your head to look at him, blanket all the way up to your chin and wrapped around your head (and all around your body really, your face the only thing peering out of this burrito you made of yourself), you say in a croaked voice : 

-No.

Damian is immediately worried. It isn’t often, if not never, that you complain. That you let things get you down. You’re the cheery one of the family. You and Dick often are the ones that see the positive things in everything, so, seeing you there, laying on the couch without even the TV on, and looking as if you were completely done with life…Well, it worries your kid. 

You realize that he’s concerned about your well being when he kneels in front of you, and put his palm on your forehead. Oh, sweet boy. If only everyone could see him as you saw him, if only he’d be as nice with everyone as he is with you…No one would ever call him “brat” anymore. 

-I’m not sick honey, I’m just…I’m just….erf…

-…You’re just “erf” ?

You shrug your shoulder. Or at least, Damian thinks you shrug your shoulder, he isn’t really sure, seeing as you’re wrapped tightly in that damn comforter. 

He’s not sure what’s wrong with you, but he still wants to help. 

-Hum…Is there anything I can do for you ? Do  you want coffee ? Something to eat ? Or do you want me to go put a movie on or something ? Anything, really ?

You smile weakly at him, and it makes him frown. Your smiles are never weak ! They’re always so bright, warm, beautiful ! They always make him feel better, not matter what. Awkwardly, he brushes a few fingers against your cheek, and your smile widens a  little. Here. Better. 

-You’re already doing a lot my boy. 

“My boy”. He loved when you called him that. It made him feel…It just made him feel loved. And like a part of the family. Your son. But of course he was your son, you never saw him in any other way, even at the difficult beginnings…

He kept on brushing your cheek lightly, putting some strand of hair out of your face. You managed to take an arm out of your blanket, and caressed his hair lovingly, he laid his head next to yours, kneeling on the floor in front of you, and you just shared a sweet mom/son moment…So much that you both fell into a deep and comfortable slumber. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Makkachin runs away and Yuuri just happens to be the person who finds him

The rain pounds.

Yuuri bows his head and pulls his hood farther up to try and protect himself, but it’s to no avail. The ink on the pages that he is holding streams down the paper and, realizing that he’d been too caught up in covering himself to cover his precious cargo, he shoves the pages inside his jacket and zips it up. They’re covered in images of a poodle with the words “FOUND POODLE” written in bold, black lettering, but as the water blurs the letters, they become less and less legible.

There goes all of the money he’d spent printing the posters.

He finds shelter underneath an awning outside of a cafe. He’s not far from home, but it feels like a failure to go home with a soaking wet jacket and posters and no progress having been made to find the lost poodle’s home.

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Tatterdemalion Dreams

This is a coda to Ragtag Heroes, not really intended to become a separate thing but my attempt to get into Sirius’s head. Excuse me while I upend my drabble bin over your heads. :D


Sirius’s little brother has always been just that—little. Regulus was a slight and slender child, and has grown into a lean and lithe man, a little too thin and rawboned from constant stress but still pretty in the way that their parents always despaired of. Sirius can admit, despite his hatred of her, that Walburga Black was an absolutely stunning woman, and Regulus takes after her very much in looks.

Not so much in personality, though, regardless of what Sirius thought as a child. Not after what he’s managed to accomplish.

Slumped in a dusty old armchair, Sirius watches his brother wander around Grimmauld Place’s library, touching covers, stroking long fingers over worn spines. This is Reggie’s element and always has been—Sirius was honestly astonished that he ended up in Slytherin rather than Ravenclaw, during the Sorting. Regulus as a child, in Sirius’s mind, was forever clutching a book, sometimes as big as himself, and wandering around with a dreamy, distant expression. He thinks of it with a bit of a pang, now, because at some point during his first year at Hogwarts that warm burst of fondness at the sight of his little brother, forever trying to please everyone, transformed into something sneering and derisive and passively loathing.

Regulus being sorted into Slytherin was the final straw, and Sirius, already immersed in being different from their parents and surrounded by Gryffindors who held the same beliefs, had turned his back on Regulus, not about to associate himself with a sniveling follower.

Never mind the fact that Regulus was eleven. Never mind that their parents had always leaned harder on Regulus, who was never nearly as willful. Never mind that Regulus adored Sirius since birth, as the only one who spent any amount of time with him outside of the house elves. Sirius had turned away, found a new brother in James who suited him so much better, and left without a backwards glance.

Their parents were never kind, even to the family favorite, and Sirius watches Regulus meander through the shelves with something like guilt roiling in his gut. Should have known, he thinks, and the vague, distant regret he’s felt since learning of his brother’s death is back in full force, because Sirius had run away from the family and left Regulus behind. It doesn’t matter that they were at odds at the time; Regulus was always a gentle soul, always tried to please their parents no matter what. Sirius could have easily taken him along to James’s, could have convinced him to abandon their parents’ ideals if only he’d remembered the sweet little boy Regulus had been, rather than looking at the distant, aloof Black prince he’d been forcibly molded into.

But he didn’t, hadn’t bothered, and something in Sirius is—

“Leo Prince,” Regulus says unexpectedly, making Sirius jump.

“What?” Sirius asks, blinking.

When he looks up, Regulus is giving him that nostalgic you’re-a-moron-Siri-and-must-I-lower-myself-to-your-level look. He’s seen it quite often—usually from the child Regulus used to be, excited about some obscure spell or ritual or potion, some little-known aspect of ancient magical theory that lost Sirius completely about twelve words into the explanation. Not that he’s an idiot, academically—Sirius has always been proud of his grades—but Regulus is something entirely different. Even their parents never quite knew what to do with him, beyond shipping him off to Voldemort in a gift-wrapped package.

“Yes, Reggie?” Sirius grins at his little brother, for the sole reason that the nickname drives him batty and nothing gets his ire up like pretending to be stupid. “What was that?”

Regulus rolls his eyes so hard Sirius wonders how he doesn’t strain something. “My name,” he explains, tone long-suffering, “for teaching at Hogwarts.”

Sirius turns it over in his head for a moment. “Leo?” he repeats dubiously, because outwardly Regulus is the perfect Slytherin, and whenever he’s not being Slytherin he gives a damned good impression of being a born Ravenclaw. Nothing leonine about him, really.

That gets him another roll of Regulus’s eyes, though it’s subtler this time. “The star Regulus is the brightest heavenly body in the constellation Leo,” he says, and his mouth quirks in a wry smile. “Also called ‘the Heart of the Lion’.”

Sirius snorts at that, wondering what twist of fate gave Regulus the one Black name that suited him exactly. ‘Heart of the Lion’ indeed. “And Prince?”

“From the literal meaning of my name.” Regulus turns back to his books again, plucking one off the shelf and adding it to the already sizeable pile he’ll be taking to Hogwarts with them. “’Little King’. It’s a name I’ve used before, in parts of the Continent. So if a particularly overprotective parent should try to trace my movements, there will be a trail. Leo Prince spent two years in Italy and then Eastern Europe, studying blood rituals from ancient times.”

Of course he did, Sirius thinks with a roll of his own eyes. He’s spent several weeks already with Hermione, and even she can’t hold a candle to his little brother. But rather than say anything—although it’s tempting, because Reggie being defensive over his rituals and spells is easily one of the more amusing things Sirius has ever encountered—he just asks, “And disguises? It’s more than likely that Peter told Voldemort about my Animagus form, and I hate to say it, Reggie, but you—”

“Yes, yes,” Regulus cuts him off, clearly annoyed. He’s always been easy for Sirius to rile. “We look very similar, I’m aware. Harry thought I was you, at first glance.”

Sirius blinks and fights a frown. Regulus is pretty, and Sirius has always considered himself—not without corroboration from other sources—to be handsome. Then he glances up, catches the tail end of Regulus’s wicked grin as the younger Black turns away, and huffs. “Oh, go on, rub it in,” he growls, chucking a cushion at his smirking brother. “At least I take after Father rather than dearest Mother in looks, pretty boy.”

That earns him a rude hand gesture and a scowl. “Anyway,” Regulus says forcefully. “I won’t use charms to change my appearance—they’re too easily detected and broken, even by the simplest of wards or spells. But…” He trails off, rummaging in a cupboard for a moment, and then, with a victorious sound, emerges holding a pair of glasses with delicate silver frames. He slips them onto his face, then pulls his hair from its loose tail and twists it into a messy braid falling over his shoulder.

They’re simple changes, but they’re able to highlight the differences between them. Sirius sits up straighter, taking in the way the glasses manage to entirely change Regulus’s face, and the hairstyle gives him a bookish, distracted, professorly air. With a change of clothes—good-quality robes, he thinks, maybe a little tattered, quiet colors, slightly too large—Regulus will be all but unrecognizable. Oh, there will be similarities, but there used to be a pureblood Prince family, and they intermarried with the Blacks enough to write off the resemblance as a result of typically tangled pureblood genealogy.

Regulus is giving Sirius the same look in return, but his is faintly distracted. “You, however,” he murmurs, “will need a charm or two, if only to keep from giving any of the more superstitious students a heart attack, looking like a Grim.” He trails off, muttering under his breath, his gaze absent, and Sirius realizes that this is his contemplative look. He’s no doubt running through every glamour charm he knows, cataloguing faults and weaknesses.

Such a Ravenclaw, really, Sirius thinks, and doesn’t even bother to fight the fond smile that rises. Good old Reggie, the walking encyclopedia of spells.

Then Regulus looks up at him and smiles that singularly angelic smile that means he’s about to show how he and Sirius really are related. He taps long fingers against his lips to hide the beginnings of a smirk, and murmurs, “Well, you’re the size of a bear, so there’s no way we’ll actually be able to pass you off as a normal dog, but…white, I think. Yes, white will do nicely. Maybe with a touch of tan?”

Sirius only has a moment to feel horrified before Regulus’s wand is out and moving.

“Well?” his little brother demands, sounding unnervingly like McGonagall. “Change already, we haven’t got all day.”

It’s going to be a very long year indeed.


It’s been a near age since Regulus last set foot on Hogwarts ground. He stands just outside the gates, staring up at the vast and imposing castle—strangely comforting, a home more than Grimmauld place could ever be, and he wonders if it’s like that for everyone. Perhaps only those from broken homes, if the Black family can count as such. Sirius, at least, had the Potters, but Regulus was always a distant, aloof child with few acquaintances and fewer friends. He had no one.

Unconsciously, his fingers curl into the thick fur of the beast standing at his side, higher than his waist and as big as a bear. White fur now, rather than black, but it’s still Sirius, still his brother brought back to him. Maybe everything isn’t entirely easy between them yet, but they’ve been strangers longer than they’ve been family, and they’re readjusting. Sirius whines softly and bumps against his hip, and Regulus musters up a smile for him.

“I’m fine, Siri,” he murmurs, although his fingers stay buried in pale fur. “Just…overwhelmed, a little.”

Normally he’d never admit to such a thing, but this is Hogwarts and he’s coming back and there’s absolutely nothing in the world he’s dreamed of more than destroying the Dark Lord with his brother at his side and the Light at this back. This is a step closer, the fifth out of seven, and then there’s only the snake left to find. Regulus has thrown out his net already; there are many people who owe him favors by now, with his knowledge base and skill set and Slytherin cunning, and Nagini will be found soon enough.

Just Ravenclaw’s artefact now, and then Harry. Their goal is so close, so achingly close that Regulus can almost taste it, and after sixteen unwavering years, he’s ready. Ready for a normal life, a death not at the hands of his former master, days not spent running from even the vaguest chance that Voldemort could discover him or his plans. It’s been too long.

With a huff of very un-canine impatience, Sirius shoves at him again and then heads up the road, strides sure and confident. Regulus only hesitates for a moment longer before hurrying to catch up with him, careful of his baggy robes. He hates them, if only for Sirius’s teasing at how he looks like a waifish scholar who thinks too much to eat. Not that Sirius is one to talk, really—he’s changed from looking like a Grim to looking like something out of Norse myth that’s about to devour the sun.

But Sirius is happy to be out of that dreary and rundown house, and Regulus can’t blame him. About the only good thing remaining there is Kreacher, and the elf is getting on in years. He’d been overjoyed that Regulus returned, but as much as Regulus missed him he hadn’t been able to bring himself to stay. He’d packed everything he needed in a day and headed out to Hogwarts and his new post, Sirius in tow. They’re quite a pair, really.

McGonagall meets them at the main doors, still regal and authoritative in a way Blacks can only dream of being, but she smiles faintly at Regulus. “Professor Prince,” she says. “How good to have you back. If you’ll follow me, I will show you to your chambers.”

This is happening, Regulus thinks suddenly, as his heart stutters and leaps forward into a gallop. This is real.

Professor, she called him, and that’s what he is now. No longer a nameless, fleeing face but a person, a figure of some standing, with a name and a past even if it isn’t his own.

That’s…pleasing.

A thought I come back to about the idea of Keith hypothetically “turning purple” is like…

Entirely besides the issue of Keith having self-esteem issues or acceptance issues or such, there’s a whole angle of…

It’s kind of like if you had spent your entire life without any mirrors, with your body covered from the neck down, and one day someone actually hands you a mirror and “Wait am I a redhead? I have freckles? Is my nose really shaped like that?”

Because that’s just it. We know Keith has some amount of galra heritage. We also know the galra are kind of a highly diverse species.

Appearance is, for better and for worse, an element of identity. There’s all manner of well-meaning platitudes of beauty is only skin-deep and inside we’re all the same or some such but honestly- there are things that become meaningful to us because they are traits about the body that we inhabit. It’s a little ridiculous that we wouldn’t in some way be affected by our appearance. We sorta live here.

So entirely outside of Keith dealing with sentiments brought to the surface- his feeling like an outsider, his fear of rejection- Keith being able to actually take a good look at himself for probably the first time in his life and go “…this is me?”

Keep reading

Fisherman’s Knot Chapter 17

[Ao3]

[Title Songs]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5][Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13][Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16]

Warnings for abuse and also a lot of internalized victim-blaming.

Thanks as always to @thesnadger for beta-ing, thanks to @marypsue for helping me work out some plot snarls, and thanks to all of you for your readership, comments, and patience.


The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Ford’s breath caught in his throat. His mind reeled, searching for an excuse, a bluff, anything to get them back on track. Stan could have managed it. Perhaps under different circumstances Ford could have too. If that smile wasn’t so familiar. If the grip on his wrists wasn’t so tight. But try as he might, his mind remained blank.

“I … don’t know what you mean,” he said.  His tone hovered somewhere between confusion and bravado. It wouldn’t fool anyone.

He should have brought a weapon. Something to remember for next time, if there was one. Note to self: don’t listen to children who complain about how a high-caliber plasma blaster would ruin the outline of his suit.

“Tell me, Stanford,” said Doctor Smith. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“No?” Ford replied. You look like a triangle, he thought, and almost giggled at how absurd that would sound if he said it.

“Really?” Doctor Smith straightened up and stood back, crossing his arms. “Then how did you expect me to fall for your transparent little scheme? Did you think I wouldn’t suspect?”

“I … suspect what?” said Ford. He could feel his heart picking up, a drumbeat of terror slicing straight through him. Did he know? Did he suspect? If he knew where Nuala’s skin was truly hidden … if Stan was in danger—

“I knew what you were here for from the beginning. You wanted to steal Sarah away from me!”

“That’s preposterous!” Ford blustered, hoping that he could pass the quaver in his voice off as anger. “Now unhand me or I—”

Doctor Smith laughed, and it was cultured and germane and terrible as his situation was Ford felt himself breathing easier. It wasn’t a cackle. It wasn’t like—he almost thought “his Bill” and felt the bile rise at the back of his throat. It wasn’t like Bill Cipher. This was just a man. No more powerful than him.

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Big Reveal.

As noted before on this blog, as much as I love photography, it doesn’t pay the bills, so I need to work at one that does. That job consumes most of my waking hours and energy, so when asked why I’m not playing more guitar, mashing the buttons to more video games, reading more books, watching more television, and so on, my usual response is that I have enough free time for half a hobby. Right now, attempting to take the pretty pictures is the thing that most interests me.

It’s the thing that inspires me to roll my groggy behind out of bed pre-sunrise, go somewhere I’ve not been before, and attempt to translate something I see into a worthwhile photograph.

Also, this is post number 1,000 for me on Tumblr. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Thanks for allowing me to engage you in a conversation about what it means to live here, through a medium I grow to appreciate more each day. Hope you’ll stick around for the next thousand posts.

Free

Soryu Oh x MC

Prompt: “I l-“  “Please… Don’t…”

Warnings: Angst

The city of Tokyo was just a busy as usual as I strolled down the streets window shopping. It was my first day off in a week and I decided that rather than hanging around the hotel and waiting for my penthouse pager to buzz, that I’d make use of my free time and window shop for a while, maybe even go to a café or something. I know if I wasted time in the hotel that one of the auction managers would catch sight of me and make me go on some pointless errand just for the sake of making me do something. The sight of a dress in a window of a boutique caught my eye, making me take a second look and stop to take a closer look. The dress was rather plain looking but I think it would suit me, I wonder if Soryu would like it? Just as my mind started to wonder, I felt a vibration in my pocket, immediately knowing that it’s my penthouse pager, so much for a peaceful day in the city. I pulled it from my pocket and saw that it wasn’t my pager but my mobile phone.

“Oh!” I raised my eyebrows in surprise and smiled when I saw the caller ID on the screen. It’s not often Soryu would call me, if he needed me he would usually page me so I knew this must be important. “Hey Soryu, what’s up?” I answered coolly, my first thought was he got the day off and was calling me to ask me out on a date, so I tried to keep my composure and not let the excitement I’m feeling of speaking to the man I adore come out in my voice.

“Come to the penthouse, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” He spoke in a monotone voice, a tone I haven’t heard from him in a long time. Not since we shared our first kiss about a month ago in his office at the Ice Dragon’s headquarters. It was on that day that we had told each other that we loved one another. Probably one of the best days of my life. When I first met Soryu he had struck me as a cold, hard, and emotionless person who would do anything to get the job done. Had I known that before I chose him to be the one who bought me, I probably wouldn’t have picked him. But after a few months I had seen a different side of him that I couldn’t help but fall in love with. So, I have no regrets about picking Soryu.  

“Okay I’ll be th-…oh okay.” I frowned and sighed as I was cut off by him hanging up the phone. I took one last look at the dress and rolled my eyes, making my way back to the hotel with a dull feeling of anxiety in my stomach from how Soryu sounded and by how blunt he was.

It didn’t take me long to arrive at the penthouse in which I had spent so much time in recently, my shoes clicked on the floor as I made my way through to the couches where I saw Soryu sitting, a saddened look on his face and his posture slumped. I questioned in my mind as to where the other auction managers could be, wondering if they had purposely made themselves scarce.

“___” He spoke my name, getting up and walking over to me. His eyes locked onto mine and he let out a long sigh as he stopped in front of me. Immediately I could tell something was wrong, making the dull feeling of anxiety in my stomach skyrocket into a fireworks display of anxiety.

“What’s going on? Did something happen? Is it Inui?! Is he hurt?!” I gasped at the thought of sweet Inui being hurt. But to be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s adorable and loyal but not the sharpest crayon in the box.

“No! No he’s fine!” Soryu’s eyes widened and eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw I had jumped to that conclusion, being quick to dismiss my worries. “I have something I need to tell you.” He broke eye contact with me and suddenly found the floor very interesting to look at.

“What is it…?” My voice came out quieter than expected, not anticipating what Soryu said next.

“I have to marry Mei Ling Lee. I’m sorry.” His words hit me like train, my stomach dropping through the many floors underneath my feet, landing on the stage of the auction hall where I was sold. “We have to end this.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with me, probably not wanting to see the tears that he knew had flooded to my eyes.

“B-But…we love each other!” Was all I could manage to say, it coming out as a soft whimper, my cheeks being rained on by my tears. I couldn’t quite comprehend the situation, just a month ago he was taking me in his arms, pressing soft kisses to my lips and telling me he loved me. Now he doesn’t dare to look me in the eyes as he breaks up with me to marry a mafia’s boss’s daughter for his job. I always knew that his job would come first, his commitment to the Ice Dragon’s being his main priority in life. He finally looked into my eyes, his eyes wavering to control his emotions from showing. “I l-“

“Please…don’t…” He spoke quietly in almost a whisper, almost like he couldn’t bring himself to hear me say those words. Taking a step closer to me, he reached out and stroked my cheek gently, before letting his hand drop down to his side. “Go. You’re free now.” He stepped back, putting distance between us and turning his back to me.

“I don’t want to be free…” My words came out as a choked sob, my hands coming to my face in disbelief of the situation. I didn’t ask him any questions about the situation he was in, not wanting to hear anymore about his marriage to a woman who wasn’t me. Luckily my legs subconsciously moved themselves to make my exit. Not looking back at the man I thought would spend the rest of my life with as I run away from the life I had come to love.


A/N: I take requests so if you have a request or prompt then send them my way! Here is a list of characters I write for. Thank you for reading!

anonymous asked:

Jess shanking Daud with a hair pin is truly the brightest timeline

IKR

I’m glad i saw that piece of historical info about deadly hat pins being an actual thing, because I’m only on my morning coffee stage and my day has already been made

I mean, it’s sad that Emily still had to be a witness to something this gruesome and it will take some time before she can approach the gazebo without her heart beginning to race, and remembering the blood spilled on the white marble and the dead bodies of the men who attacked her mom and her friend being dragged away. She never saw this much blood in one place before, only her nosebleeds and scratched knees and elbows, she could barely grasp the concept of so much blood being in one person and trickling from a single tiny stabwound in his neck. It was clearly not something for her to say and she could see a passing horro and guilt in the eyes of Corvo and her mom, because they woulkd shield her from seeing this if they could.

But everyone is alive and that’s what matters. 

Jessamine would still be shaking, the realisation of her life being so close to ending hits her like a heavy ocean wave, and she suddenly feels very weak, there’s blood all over her hands and the front of her jacket (ruined, probably, irrepairably), it’s grows dry, sticky and disgusting, and the air still smells of gunpowder from Corvo shooting the remaining assassins. But she’s the empress, she is not supposed to fall apart, she needs to put her mask of composure back on, because if she won’t inspire confidence and the sense of safety in her daughter, then who will?

Needless to say, the news spread with terrifying speed, the wildest gossip blooms on the streets and the most ridiculous details are added to the story as it passes from one person from another. Jessamine was known for a number of things, including the aristocracy’s disdainful “empress of the beggars” for her attempts at improving the lives of the lower class, but now everyone in Dunwall knows that she killed an assassin with her own hands, and…..may I say the aristocracy feels more than a little afraid of her now, seeing what this highly compassionate person is capable of doing.

zoslean  asked:

I have this one hoodie, this one big as shit gray hoodie that I wear everywhere. My dysphoria has been bad all week, and when I feel like that- I go and wear my hoodie all day. Now, I live in Florida and it's summer- and my mom demands I take my hoodie off, and she even made me get weave in to act more "normal". I told her I'm trans like 5 times, how do I make it clear to her that I'm trans and it hurts when she does stuff like this?

You should sit down with her and talk.
That’s usually how I’d imagine dealing with problems like this.
Explain that wearing that hoodie helps with your dysphoria, and you might be willing you wear something lighter (only if you are comfortable with it) as long as it was “men’s” clothes too.
Also explain how you’d like to look, including your hair.
Maybe it’d help her see what she’s doing is negatively impacting you.

Best of luck 💙💙💙

anonymous asked:

sorry to bother you (again) but i just saw the little shinsou animation u did in response to my ask today and im so happy ... thank you so much for taking the time to do that. i hope u have a great day bc u certaintly made mine

ahh omg i’m so glad you saw it!! youre not bothering me at all, the way you requested it was really sweet and made me happy so i wanted to do something nice for you. i had a lot of fun working on it as the first thing ive animated since finishing my thesis film. thanks so much and have a good one!!!

You can lead a fan to fanfiction but you can’t make them review

So I’ve been trying to encourage fanfic readers to review/comment more by reviewing and sharing  fanfics (Richonne, Zutara, Ichabbie, Sasil, Georglina, Tokka,) and it sadly it’s not working. Perhaps I’m being a bit too impatient, but I just don’t have the time or energy  to keep doing something no one seems interested in.

So I will finish reviewing/comment on the fanfics people already sent me, but after that I won’t be taking any more fic recs. I’m sorry.  I hate to do this because I really LOVED reading all of your fics, and knowing that I was possibly making someones day by commenting on their fics, but this project seems to me taking up too much of my time when no one else seems interested in participating.

I’m still encouraging people to comment on a ficfic if you like it. It only takes a few seconds to let a fanfic author know how much you like their story and appreciated all of their hard work. Fanfic authors don’t ask for money just a few words to let your writer know that you are enjoying  their writing.

Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

I’m not worth the cost of a watch.

She Never Stopped Smiling

by reddit user Pippinacious

Fly was an odd kid, even by odd kid standards. I met her in sixth grade, when our alphabetically ordered last names landed us in adjacent seats, and she turned to look at me with a cheerful, gap toothed smile.

“Hi!” She said.

“Hi.” I replied quietly.

I was shy and intimidated by my first day in middle school, but she wasn’t the least bit nervous.

Keep reading

Just some Viktor Analysis for you kids, because you know I love it:

Figure skating, in general, is a Much Bigger Deal in the YOIverse than it is in real life. To the point where Viktor gets name recognition from people who don’t know anything at all about figure skating. I say this because I’ve been interested in figure skating my whole life, unlike I think a lot of the fandom (I could absolutely be wrong here, but that’s my estimate of the situation) and I learned very early on that Nobody Knew Jack About Figure Skating. Like I can name a total of TWO figure skaters off the top of my head who generally get name recognition–Kristi Yamaguchi and Michelle Kwan–when I talk about them to people who aren’t in the know. And even Kwan is a bit iffy. I can’t think of a single male figure skater whose name I could say in casual conversation and have someone say, “I totally know who that is.” I think this might be because the general population thinks figure skating is mostly just women, and also because figure skating really just isn’t on most people’s radar. This could be different in other countries, but even then I don’t think Viktor would have his International Celebrity status irl.

On the other hand, Viktor could just be one of those category-defying athletes who gain international attention because they are literally Just So Fucking Good at what they do. Think Michael Phelps or David Beckham. Nobody, in general, cares about swimming, but they sure do care about Michael Phelps. Everybody knows who David Beckham is, even in America, a country that doesn’t even have a real fanbase for the sport he plays. It’s entirely possible that at some point, someone realized that Viktor Nikiforov was Winning Everything and everyone got super curious over whether he would continue to do that–much like Phelps.

Also, Viktor is a very handsome European man, which probably helped a lot.

Either way, Viktor is an unusual celebrity who probably came up in the world very, very fast. As in, all attention was just on him suddenly one day. This probably happened somewhere around the 2010 Olympics, if you assume that Viktor probably hadn’t reached his full potential by his first Olympics, which was probably Turin 2006. I’m pretty sure Viktor Nikiforov stepped off the podium in Vancouver, suddenly a Russian household name and an international figure at an age where most people haven’t yet moved out of their parents’ house.

By the events of the anime, Viktor has been central in the public eye for over half a decade. He’s been TMZ’d and had a paparazzo follow him home, he’s done ads for sports drinks and athletic wear and shoes and cologne, he’s been put on diets–not Athlete Diets; Celebrity Diets; ‘eat four saltine crackers and a glass of coconut juice for two meals a day’ diets (Yakov put a stop to this quickly)–he’s had a publicist scream bloody murder at him over the phone because he did something stupid outside a club in Ibiza. One of my favorite ‘why Viktor cut his hair’ headcanons is that he had to cut it off because people kept pulling it in crowds, or trying to cut off pieces when he walked by.

These are not the typical experiences of a career athlete.

Viktor is a Celebrity Athlete, probably figure skating’s only celebrity athlete. There are probably a lot of people in the sport who don’t really even consider him an athlete, but at the same time he isn’t a movie star or a pop star, not One Of Us among the red carpet elite. Also, figure skating is unusual because it is an intersection of sport and performance. People get confused about where someone like Viktor lies on the athlete versus celebrity scale because he’s beautiful, he dresses up in costumes and performs to music. This isn’t football, or hockey or even track or swimming. Nobody is sure what Viktor Nikiforov is. He’s a creature unto himself.  His experiences are so drastically different from the experiences of everyone he knows that he literally has no one to relate to.

It creates distance. It makes him untouchable. 

And Viktor? Viktor is so fucking starved for genuine human contact and connection by the time he meets Yuuri that he’s willing to take himself halfway across the planet to get it.

With all of this known, can you imagine how powerful it was for Viktor to hear Yuuri say, “I just want you to be yourself, that’s all I need”?

It’s probably reason number one (of roughly ten thousand) for why Viktor fell in love with Yuuri.

💫 MAY FICS 💫

» A Collection of Near-Death Experiences by somethingaboutamoose

Keith was twelve years old when he was involved in a car accident with his family. After the near-death experience, Keith has found out something about himself: He can’t die.

» all we have to do by aknightley

Keith gets hurt during a mission, and Lance is not sure how to handle that.

» between stars by NotRover

After years of fighting on opposite sides of the war, Lance and Keith meet once again on the battlefield.

» blue, blue eyes by albino_yeti

What would you do
if you ever knew
the man you desperately love
never thinks the same of you?

» Bottom Of The Ninth by xfulcrumx

Lance is the new pitcher for The Lions. Coran’s goal for the season is to make their rival team, The Galrans, beg for mercy. Somewhere along the way, Klance happens.

» Carpe Diems and Chrysanthemums by Gigapoodle

After years of rivalry, bitter acquaintanceship, and eventual friendship, the realization slaps Lance hard, hard enough to settle into his lungs and sap his life away. It’s when he coughs up a petal that Lance realizes just how far gone he is.

» close to you by solllys

they’re in love with each other; that’s how these things go

» Confinement Of Pain by NightcoreFairy

“During the day we were mere rivals.”

“And during the night?”

“During the night, he was the love of my life.”

» Control by ver_ironica

Keith is desperate to keep up appearances, but things are getting harder. He has to lead Voltron while keeping himself in check. His control is reaching the breaking point, and there may be no turning back.

» Crowd Pleaser by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot

It’s a male strip club, which means Keith’s never short of entertainment during working hours - especially when Blue Rider takes the stage. Because Blue’s hot - definitely talented - and definitely taking an interest in Keith.

» excelsior by warmth

“Onward and upward,” Lance says. “to greater glory.”

» Going Under by sun_stricken

Lance takes a dangerous spill in the ocean and is saved by none other than a mermaid with weird hair

» Hershey’s Kisses by EnglishCivilWar

In which Keith is sad, and Lance tries to cook.

» i think you’re fine you really blow my mind by keithxlance

Five times Lance uses pick-up lines and one time Keith decides to try it out as well.

» I Watched the Sky and the Stars Reminded Me of You by beckkai

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just.” He looked back at the rising moon and expanse of sky before setting Keith with a soft glare,”Nothing.”

» Like Fire by PastelClark

By circumstance and happenstance, Red finds herself in situations requiring she change paladins twice in her life

» Moonset Deep by MilkTeaMiku

All his life he’d been told to make sure he was never seen – it was what all the children were taught from the moment they were born. Never let a human see you, never fall in love with a human, and most importantly, never kiss one.

» Never Let Me Go by doodlenauts

When the music stops, he meets him halfway - even when they’re thousands of millions of miles apart.

» Nothing Like the Rain When You’re In Outer Space by Wayward_child

Lance misses the rain.

» oblivious to what made you so obvious by altruisticallura

He looked up suddenly, as if he could feel Lance’s eyes on him, and gave a small grin. Lance was a goner.

» Panacea (A Cure for Love) by RowenaMacLeod

Keith contracts an alien disease that wipes your mind of the one you love.

» Reach out for you (break these walls) by Utsukushin

Keith is trying to make himself smaller, to bury his head deeper in his knees, and Lance’s heart freezes in his chest. 

» solace in the thrum of your heart by laidellennt

Lance cannot find solace in the stars.

» Somebody Left The Gate Open by lordbatty

Lance always knew he would have to be the one to pick Keith back up. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

» suave and charming as heck by Lance_WhyUAlwaysLion

Lance is neither suave nor charming. Or, Lance thinks he’s a pro at flirting until suddenly, he’s the one getting flirted with.

» Sung Me Moonstruck by sciencefictioness

Something hungry within him that was only sated by the sound of Lance’s voice, or the sight of those too deep eyes cutting sideways to look at him. Something wild that only calmed when he was near.

Something broken in Keith that was held together with that crooked grin.

» symbolization by bolbessa

Keith didn’t really do flowers. He just couldn’t take care of them, and to be completely honest, he didn’t see the point.

» teeth and all by viscrael

“Do you want to kiss someone?”

Keith almost drops his Bayard.

» the sea pronounces something by legendarydesvender

AU where Keith is a sailor and Lance is the siren trying to drown him.

» The Whirling Ways Of Stars That Pass by mandaloore

“There,” he spoke in an almost-whisper, tracing the outline of the imaginary constellation like a child following a dot-to-dot illustration. Keith watched his movements from his peripheral vision, hoping that Lance was too preoccupied to notice the rapid beating of his heart. “Can you see it now?”

» Waves Amongst Stardust by Resamille

The flutter of Lance’s heart is almost lost to the homesickness pounding through his veins.
Almost.

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