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#anyway i’m off to find some black paper so i can do my art homework chao all.
remakethestars · 3 years
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Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:
Headcanons.
❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞
— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld
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TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.
Headcanon masterlist.
When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.
You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.
Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.
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Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.
You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.
You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.
There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.
The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.
Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why. 
The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.
If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia. 
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Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.
Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).
When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart. 
It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.
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If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.
You did not want to go to Jon’s school. 
Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats. 
School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.
You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.
If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.
The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions. 
Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.
It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.
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Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.
It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.
There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.
It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.
You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you. 
Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.
After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.
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You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.
Heretic never stood a chance.
He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.
Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.” 
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Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.
Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.
It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.
The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could. 
And it had.
You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.
You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.
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Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”
Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow. 
You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.
You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.” 
He had to know first. He deserved to.
For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.
Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break. 
Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.” 
Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.
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When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.
Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up. 
You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol. 
He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.
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He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia. 
“Brother?” 
“Tt. Obviously.” 
Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.
You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.
You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).
(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)
The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba. 
The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?” 
“How’d you know?” you asked. 
“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”
“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.
“He is on the inside.”
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Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?
Visit my headcanon masterlist.
DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!
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simpsiren · 3 years
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jung jaehyun x reader
description. Working for an art exhibit that only lasts a week, you wouldn’t expect anyone to stay here long until you meet a guy who comes by every single day, looking at the same painting at the same timing that lasts hours.
genre. flUff, at the end i promise
word count. 6.4k~
warnings. nonee
a/n. the pic of jaehyun just gives me museum vibes idk why so yes i’m going to write a short story (okay its not idk how i extended but i did) on him. the story is more of the reader observing him till the halfway point where they slowly start to interact. this would probably be considered a slow burn?? not sure but enjoy it either way!!
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“You got a new job again?”
You turn around your desk chair, taking one side of your earpiece off and noticing Taeyong sitting on your bed casually scrolling through his phone.
You didn’t even realise he came into the room. Probably because you had your music blasting at a high volume and you were concentrated on completing your holiday homework.
“Yeah. It’s at some art exhibit. Pay’s fair and I only have to sit there and do nothing for a week.” You simply reply with a light shrug.
“That’s so easy. When do you start?” Taeyong asks, lifting his eyes off his phone to look at you with curiosity.
You didn’t give an answer, looking down on your phone to search for the email that the person in charge sent you a few days back.
“It says the exhibit opens on friday so I guess that’s tomorrow.” You say shortly after glazing your eyes down the email.
Taeyong hums and nods his head. “Is it far from here? Need me to ride you there?”
You give a sincere smile and shake your head lightly. “You don’t have to. I can take the train. Plus you have work.” You politely reject your friend.
Taeyong frowns in response, making you sigh as you know he’ll insist on doing it.
“I’m working from home? I can do whatever as long as I complete my work. Just let me send you. You’re always refusing my help.” Taeyong glares at you and lets out an exasperated huff.
You purse your lips into a thin line, suspiring in defeat in a matter of seconds. You can never win when it comes to Taeyong being persistent. That’s how he always is whenever it comes to you.
“Okay, okay.” You breathe out.
“Anyways what are you doing in my room? I have homework to do.”
Taeyong flashes his cheeky smile and bobs his shoulders. “Was actually thinking of asking you to treat bubble tea?” His smile widens till his eyes form a line.
You scoff, furrowing your eyebrows. “You’re the one that’s working here!” You shout, letting out a ‘tsk’.
“Urgh fine! You’re cooking me instant noodles though.” Taeyong points his finger at you.
“Are my instant noodles that good?”
You earn a lighted up face as Taeyong nods his head eagerly. “Something about the way you cook it just tastes different from regular instant noodles!” Taeyong squeals like a kid while he let out a soft dreamy moan while closing his eyes.
“Jeez I’m craving for bubble tea now that you’ve mention it. Hurry up and order it on Grab!” You throw the pillow behind your back to Taeyong’s face, making him snap out of his thoughts on your instant noodles.
“My God, chill! Calm your women cravings.” Taeyong mumbles, turning on his phone and proceeding to head to the app to order the bubble tea.
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It’s already the next day. Luckily for you, you wouldn’t have to be there till eleven in the morning since the exhibit opens at twelve.
You peacefully wake up at nine. Though you stayed in bed and used your phone till ten. Realising the time, you gather your strength to pull yourself out of bed, dragging yourself to the bathroom with half-opened eyes despite the fact that you’ve been awake for an hour.
You know you could take your time getting ready since Taeyong knows how to ride his bike. Fast. Like extremely fast. You estimated that you’d be able to reach in ten minutes, when normally it’ll take fifteen to twenty.
“Taeyong!” You scream out in the hallway as you make your way to his room. Opening the door, you see Taeyong on his desk typing away at his keyboard.
He shot his head at the noise, turning his head sharply to the door where you are. “We’re going now?” He asks, using his middle finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing down at the papers that are scattered on his desk.
You hum, looking down at the time on your phone. “We have five minutes till we can leave.” You inform him.
Taeyong nods his head and stands up, taking off his glasses and putting it on the desk. He slowly walks up to you, eyes scanning down your outfit. “They really let you wear this?” He asks with a skeptical eye.
You narrow your eyes in response. “How am I suppose to dress?” You question back sarcastically.
“I don’t know like fancy? High class? It’s a museum type of exhibit isn’t it?” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. You roll your eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to be a tour guide. Whatever I’m still wearing this.”
You walk up to the full length mirror that’s beside Taeyong’s bed, looking down on your outfit. You decided to wear loose legged jeans along with a brown sweater vest, white button up and Vans shoes.
You smile to yourself in the mirror and turn around happily to Taeyong. “Let’s go.”
Taeyong takes out his extra helmet from the back, passing it to you. You wear it quickly while Taeyong gets on his bike, starting the engine as the noise from it can be heard loud and clear. After he takes a moment to adjust in his seat, he jerks his head to the back, signaling you to get on.
With that, you and Taeyong begin your journey of heading to the exhibit. As expected, you got there at around ten minutes. And you still had time befofe it opens. You got off and take off the helmet, passing it to Taeyong.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“I’m doing it for the instant noodles.” Taeyong says with a light chuckle, putting the helmet at the back. You swirled around to walk to the entrance. You glance over your shoulder to see Taeyong still leaning against his bike, waiting for you to head in. You shake your head and held a hand up to wave him goodbye before entering.
As you walk in, you hear Taeyong’s bike engine starting as he drives off. Looking around the exhibit, you were instantly amazed. It isn’t large, but isn’t small either. It is a completely white building with paintings and other things you would see in a museum cleanly displayed by their categories. It’s a simple yet classy set up.
You head to the counter to meet the person in charge who’s the only one in the exhibit.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Dejun.” You greet with politeness, bowing your head.
“Good afternoon. Since today’s the first day I don’t think there will be too many people coming in. Other than that, I’m sure you know what to do.” Mr. Dejun informs as he writes something on the black clipboard he has in his arm.
You hum. “Yeah, I do.” You reply confidently.
“Alright I’ll be heading off now. The key to locking up the exhibit is here. Make sure to return it to the main building, okay? I won’t be coming back by the way.” Mr. Dejun adjusts the glasses on his face.
You nod your head, watching him look around the counter one last time before greeting you goodbye and walking out of the exhibit. You sigh and take a seat on the chair that’s at the counter. You look down, seeing the key along with other papers that you assume is not relevant to you.
You got comfortable, placing your bag down on the counter and start to use your phone. Getting bored after awhile, you decide to walk around the exhibit for the fun of it.
You get to where the paintings were, clasping your hands behind your back after shoving your phone into your back pocket. You get in front of picture to picture, staring at it for a moment before looking to the bottom right to read its description and moving on.
You didn’t end up spending that much time walking around since you got through the arts fairyly quickly, not really caring about admiring it.
You get back to your seat, huffing and placing your chin on the palm of your hand as you lean in, closing your eyes.
You swear you could have fallen asleep but you got awoken by the sound of footsteps coming in. You shot your head up to the entrance, seeing a tall man wearing a brown velvet suit with a pink turtleneck. he had brown hair that’s slit back, though it looks a little messy.
You question how he looked at first. Brown and pink? You thought. That is until you concentrated on his face. You had to blink your eyes a few times to capture his face in your mind while he walks off to look around.
He had a jawline and features that can cut like a knife. The way every feature on his face looked amazing and straight out of a painting from someone’s imagination of a perfect man. His hair framed his face that was made for him to pull off any outfit choices or hairstyles.
You got intrigued in an instant without a doubt. You would want to look at him more but he ended up going deep into the exhibit and disappearing out of your sight.
You frown to yourself, the picture of him etched into your brain while you trace whatever you remember of him in your head. You eventually snap out of it, proceeding to look down on your phone.
You didn’t know how much time has passed since he came in. But it felt like a long time. And you still have yet to see him exit the exhibit.
Getting curious or concern, you weren’t exactly sure, you rose from your seat. Walking around, you tried finding for him. And eventually, you did.
You stand there in silence, a few steps away from him. He had his head tilted sideways as he stares blankly into this one particularly painting. It felt like he’s been looking at it for so long, seeing how his body didn’t bother moving an inch and it looked like he was in a trance.
You suck in your lips, looking up from his hair down to his high cut black Converse sneakers. He had such a perfect body proportion along with his height. Even his side profile felt breathtaking and you couldn’t even imagine how you’d feel if you were to get up close to someone with a physique like his.
You decided to turn back and leave, taking silent steps and making your way back to the counter. You want to leave him be for the time being. But then, your stomach began to growl, urging you to have your lunch. You turn on your phone and headed to the Grab app, wanting to order some Mcdonald and have it delivered here. Mr. Dejun didn’t say that you couldn’t eat here so might as well.
Thirty minutes passed. You had you food but you still have yet to see the man leave. Curious yet again, you grab your coke and head to where you saw him last time.
He’s still there, same painting, same standing position. At this point you were getting concerned. No one can stay frozen staring at something for that long right?
You take a sip of your coke, realising that the straw made those suction noises when your cup is empty. The sound caused the man to sharply turn his head to you.
You lean back, eyes blinking as it met his. “I’ll go soon, don’t worry.” He mutters. Finally, he starts walking down deeper into the hall and looking at other paintings.
You hum, nodding your head. You decide to walk as well, wanting some of your food to be digested.
You didn’t see him leave. He probably did while you looked at some flower painting.
Oddly enough, he’s the only one that came today.
And that was your first day at the exhibit. As you lock the door with the given keys, you couldn’t help but wonder why it’s called, What is love? Observing the arts in the exhibit from the main museum building, you didn’t see anything related to love except for one or two that had a direct meaning to it. The descriptions about them didn’t exactly help either.
You could only shrug off the thought once you hear the familiar sound if Taeyong’s bike driving down the street as he comes to pick you up.
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Day two comes by. you got there around the same timing with Taeyong’s help. Mr. Dejun is there again. He gives you the same instructions as yesterday, but this time you are told to make sure the peole who enter have registered in so they could keep track of who comes in and out. You were wondering why they didn’t have that system on your first day.
Quite a few people come by. Couples, families, perhaps journalists since you see them jotting something down in their notebooks while looking at the art.
What caught your eye is the fact that you see him come in again. He still looks as classy as yesterday with his slit back brown hair. But, you see someone else as well.
“This is where you wanted us to go?” You hear the women beside him say, linking her arm around his. You take a look at her up and down.
She’s absolutely stunning. From her dark brown wavy hair with curls at the bottom that reach till her chest area, the tight floral dress that cups her hourglass body perfectly, not to mention it’s proportioned beautifully just like his to the features of her face that looks just that of a model’s. You would have made an assumption that she is a model.
“Yeah, why? We can go somewhere else?” He mumbles as they take slow strides to the counter, approaching you. Needless to say, his voice is definitely amazing as well despite the few words he has said here.
The two ended up in front of you. The girl gives a simple smile. “Two tickets please.”
“You have to register with the QR code that’s there first.” You motion your hand to the sign on top of the counter that displays a huge QR code along with instructions to complete the registration.
“Ah I see. Hold on.” She jerks her arm against his, lifting her head up to the sign. He shapes his mouth into an ‘O’ as they proceed to use their phones to scan the code.
While they look down at their phones typing in their information, you thought that it’s a good time to have your eyes on him while you still can before he disappears into the exhibit.
You admire his face. You could tell his face looks breathtaking at every angle. You couldn’t see his face properly since the fringe of his hair covered his eyes a little while he’s looking down. But you liked it either way.
But you also start to wonder who that women is. His girlfriend? A close girl friend? You couldn’t exactly tell but you could make a guess that she’s more outspoken than him, seeing how he just nods his head and makes little effort to use his words when she talks to him.
“Alright, we’re done.” You shot your eyes up to them. You notice how he had his eyes on you with a blank expression. You shake your head, wanting to get yourself out of your deep admiration for the man i. front of you.
You hum, taking out the stickers that had the logo of the exhibit on it. Peeling two off, you hand it over to her. “Just stick it on your body anywhere.” You reply, attempting to sound polite.
“Also I need your names.”
Not.
You just want to know what the man’s name is.
“Nayeon.” The women brightly introduces herself. Your eyes adverted to him quickly.
“Jung Jaehyun.”
Fuck, you thought to yourself. Even his name suits him well. You practically couldn’t find a single flaw on this man appearance wise. You would want to talk to him, if Nayeon isn’t here with him today.
The two head off and the hours fly by as usual. To ease yourself out of boredom, you went to walk around the exhibit again, watching people admiring the arts and having small chitchats.
As you walk by the place where you saw Jaehyun standing yesterday, you realise the two are there. Standing in front of the same painting.
“This is boring. Let’s walk around more.” You hear Nayeon say loudly. You could’ve sworn you seen a look of anger or disappointment, or maybe both on Jaehyun’s face. But as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared quickly as well.
“Sure.” Jaehyun plainly says as he walks behind Nayeon. He glances back at the painting before having his eyes scan the area. His eyes meet yours for a brief second. You feel your body tense up so quick. You never felt something like this in a long time since you stopped dating when college started.
Absentmindedly, or maybe perhaps not, you ended up walking to wherever they went, following their footsteps and being quite a few meters away from them, they were in your sight almost all the tims.
One thing that stood out to you is the fact that Jaehyun looked somewhat gloomy or annoyed, even bored in fact. He didn’t look like this yesterday. And it’s obvious that the reason for that is Nayeon. You can’t understand why, not really diving too deep into it.
At some moment, Nayeon walks off with her phone to her ear, probably answering a call and exiting the exhibit.
“You don’t seem to be having fun.” You say, walking up to Jaehyun and standing beside him as you look at the painting in front of you.
He turns his head, looking down on you. He scoffs. “Is it that obvious?” Jaehyun asks, though the both of you seem to know the answer to that.
“Totally not.” You reply sarcastically, sliding your phone into your back pocket. “I saw you came by yesterday.” You start.
“I remembered you since you were the only one here.” Despite your eyes being on the painting, you couldn’t help but feel that his eyes start piercing into your skin. Looking up, you see him staring at you.
“Well to be fair it’s an exhibit that’s not popular yet.” Jaehyun lightly shrugs. “I actually thought I’d see my friend here. Guess not.” A small, almost unnoticeable frown creeps up his face.
“Friend? Who exactly?”
“Xiao Dejun. The one in charge of this place.”
You let out a soft “Ah...” while nodding your head. “He’s only here before my shift starts. And he never comes back either. I thought that’s something a friend should know.”
Jaehyun lets out a quiet sigh. “He’s too focused on this to let me know I guess.”
Just as he says that, you hear the clanking of Nayeon’s high heels coming in from the entrance. You know it’s her since she’s the only one wearing high heels here. “Looks like your boring date is back.” You joke with a small smile.
Jaehyun chuckles, brushing his thumb across his nose and shoving his hands into his pocket. “Sure is.”
“Hope thay you’ll be done with it soon.” You say, giving him a little encouragement to light up his mood. He didn’t reply to your statement and instead laughs softly, making you practically swoon for him in your mind when he lets out a, “Thanks.”
“Will I be seeing you tomorrow, Jaehyun?”
“Perhaps, uh your name?”
“_____”
With that, the two of you exchanged smiles once again as you walk off, seeing her hugging him from behind and dragging him off.
You couldn’t help but smile, him calling your name resonating in your head over and over as you head back to the counter.
Moments later the two left and you went along with completing the rest of the shift.
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“Jung Jaehyun?” Taeyong asks, taking a bite of his chicken. You completely forgot to eat lunch today so you texted Taeyong to meet you to have dinner at the nearby fast food restaurant.
You nod your head eagerly. “He’s so handsome and hot and just.. ah~” You close your eyes as you picture him in your mind, moaning dreamily as you thought about him.
“He sounds familiar not going to lie.” Taeyong shrugs, reaching his hand out to grab your mashed potatoes that were on your tray.
“Hey that’s mine!” You shout. Taeyong giggles cheekily. “You didn’t eat so I’ll assume you don’t want it.” He flashes his eye smile, making you look at him with disgust.
“Uh no I’m saving it for last. Why didn’t you get your own?”
“I forgot okay!” Taeyong huffs, angrily taking a scoop and putting it in his mouth. “I’ll share don’t worry.”
You roll your eyes. “So is he going to go there tomorrow?”
“He said probably.” You plainly shrug. “I mean I hope I do. I get to see him again.” You smile to yourself, looking down at your finished tray like an idiot.
“From what you tell me, it really feels like you’re just stalking him.” Taeyong adds with a scoff. You let out a ‘tsk’, grabbing a tissue to wipe and clean off your fingers.
“I don’t! Okay maybe. But seriously if you seen him, I’m pretty sure you would’ve turned gay for him.”
“Imagine how hot that’ll be. Seeing how you are handsome, and he’s handsome too. Ah the gayness!” You squeal, tapping your toes and as you grin widely.
“I’ll floor you at home. Watch me.” Taeyong threatens, throwing you a sharp glare. “You can drop by tomorrow to see him if you’d like. I can text you when he comes.” You bob your shoulder, a slight smirk creeping up your lips.
Taeyong hums and nods his head, grabbing his drink and taking one last sip to finish it. “Don’t disappoint me. If I don’t like what I see, I can say it as a fact that you have low standards.”
You gap your mouth open, placing a hand on your chest and gasping, overreacting at his statement. “Oh please. I’ll never.” You say with full confidence.
The next day at around three in the afternoon, Jaehyun enters the exhibit.
“Good afternoon, _____” Jaehyun greets in a polite yet trying to sound fun manner
“Afternoon, Jaehyun.” You flash a bright smile.
“Do I still need to register?” Jaehyun asks, leaning against the counter and closer to you. You blink your eyes rapidly, wanting to take a moment to look at his face up close but shake your head out of it immediately.
“Yeah. You need to do it every time you come.” You inform him, your phone flat on the table as you boredly scroll through Twitter.
“Alright.” He does the same procedure and proceeds to walk off, giving you a soft and kind smile before doing so.
You immediately went to iMessage, texting Taeyong that he’s here and keeping to your promise that you’ll let him see Jaehyun. Almost instantly, you hear the door open and reveal Taeyong casually walking in.
You widen your eyes in shock. “Wait the fuck?” You say as Taeyong walks up to the counter and leans his body againsy it. “So where is he?” Taeyong asks with full curiosity, peeking is head into the exhibit.
“Wait how did you even get here before I texted you?” Taeyong simply shrugs. “I didn’t go back home. I had lunch then I saw a dude who’s the only one that seem to go inside so I just assume that’s Jaehyun.”
“Wow...” You reply in awe, sounding surprised, buf also not.
Taeyong keeps his eyes at the exhibit, moving his head to see all it from all directions. “Where did he go?”
You pucker your lips in response. “Might have gon’ to that painting again. I don’t know why but every time he comes by, he just looks at this one painting. He can literally stand there and only leave hours later.”
Taeyong laughs, clapping his hands. “There’s no way, you idiot. He obviously moves around while you���re here.” Taeyong breathes out, patting his chest to calm his laughter.
“But I saw him!” You growled, reaching a hand out to punch Taeyong in the chest, making him wince. “Yeah, yeah sure.” Taeyong taunts. You roll your eyes.
Suddenly, you see Jaehyun coming out of the corner. You smack Taeyong’s arm constantly to get his attention and point your finger to the direction where Jaehyun has his back facing you.
“There!” You whisper. You really did look like a fan swooning over her idol.
“Oh my God wait. Yo, Jaehyun!” Taeyong suddenly shouts out. You widen your eyes at his sudden action. You weren’t sure whether that’s suppose to embarrass you or he actually knows Jaehyun.
Jaehyun turns his head around slowly. His eyes went to you first before Taeyong, a bright smile emerging his lips instantly. “Woah Yongie!” Jaehyun walks over. He nudges Taeyong’s shoulder with a balled fist, making him chuckle.
“Uh.. So you know him?” You ask, you finger going back and forth between Taeyong and Jaehyun. Taeyong chuckles, nodding his head. “Yeah back in college.” Taeyong says. “She’s on her last year.” He adds on, gently motioning his hand to you.
“We had a chat yesterday.” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks getting hot ever so slightly. You hum. “I was hoping you’d come so that you can see Taeyong.”
What a huge lie.
Taeyong couldn’t but scoff, making you and Jaehyun look at him with raised brows. “Pft, oh really?” He asks, sounding pushy. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him intensively in hopes that he will not push it any further.
“So!” Taeyong starts after an awkward moment of silence. “Since Jae’s here, wanna eat something for lunch?”
Jaehyun looks up, thinking for awhile before tilting his head back down to Taeyong. Though, his eyes met yours for a split second that made your heart skip a beat. “Alright.”
“Order me take out then.” You say, disappointment filling your tone ever so slightly, which Taeyong instantly picked up.
“Aw I would have invited you if you didn’t have work, right Jae?” Taeyong had a wide smirk on his face for a second before turning to Jaehyun. He lets out a simple chuckle. “True.”
You frown, raising a hand up to wave it at them lazily as a sign to push them away. “Okay, okay. Just go and come back quick. I want food.”
With that, you ended your third day. You ended up spending more time with Jaehyun than you’d expect, which makes you happy every time you thought about him.
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The next day, oddly enough, Jaehyun didn’t come by. You didn’t see him coming in around the time he would be entering. And he never did. You waited for him impatiently, waiting eagerly for that one time you get to see him for a brief moment before he goes in to look at the painting yet again.
It felt almost weird to you. Despite you meeting him for only three days, you felt somewhat accustomed to be seeing him for the rest of the week. And him not coming in today felt out of place. It shocked you how attached to him you got. But to be honest, who wouldn’t?
You start wondering why he didn’t come. But the reality dawned on you pretty quick. He had his own live of course. He obviously has other things to do. Work? Family and friends? You thought that he couldn’t possibly be coming in everyday.
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“I see you came back with her.” You whisper to Jaehyun, leaning in slightly. He heaves a sigh, rubbing his temples. “It’s... complicated. She’s probably talking to her father.” Jaehyun jerks his head to the seating area outside the exhibit, where you see Nayeon on the phone.
“Sorry if I’m intruding or anything...” You start off. Jaehyun raises both his eyebrows and humming. “But why do you keep coming here? I mean other than yesterday, it just seems like you come here just to look at that one painting in the corner of the exhibit.”
Jaehyun puckers his lips, shrugging after. “That’s complicated to answer too. Well, not really but-”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to answer.”
Just then, Nayeon comes back, running over to Jaehyun and holding his hand, interlocking their fingers. It really made you wonder whether Nayeon is actually Jaehyun’s girlfriend that he loves or is dating her for another reason.
Once again Jaehyun immediately looks bored. Before they walk in the exhibit, he looks over his shoulder to look at you. You mouth a, “Good luck.” With a light laugh, making him nod his head and turning back to the front.
With that, your bore through the hours of your shirt. For such a simple job, you were surprised at how much you were being paid. But that was all you care about anyways. The money. It served you as motivation to just push through the boring hours.
It’s near closing time now. You stood up to walk around the exhibit to make sure there’s no one left. As you head back to the counter to grab your things, you stop in your tracks when you see Jaehyun and Nayeon standing outside at the seating area. “Are they fighting or something?” You mutter to yourself as you watch Nayeon screaming at Jaehyun while he avoids her eyes with folded arms.
You raised a skeptical brow, not knowing what they’re fighting about and continued ahead to pack your things and turning off all the nights. You take one last look around the exhibit before grabbing the keys in your hand.
Just when you were about to head out, you now see Jaehyun sitting on the bench with his back facing you, his head leaning against the glass. You gulp and open the door, making him shot his head towards you.
“What happened? I saw you and Nayeon fighting.” You say, turning around and using the keys to lock up the exhibit. Jaehyun stands up, running a hand through his hair.
“We broke up.” Jaehyun says in a somewhat sarcastic manner.
“Um well I guess you need time alone?” You raised your shoulders, taking in a deep breath.
Jaehyun walks closer to you, and with each step your heart began to race quicker. You bit your bottom lip in nervousness, despite him not standing that close. “Not exactly.” He replies shortly.
You furrow your eyebrows, tilting your head in confusion. “Then what? I’m not exactly the type who’s good at comforting people.” You say, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. “Unless it’s food. I can treat you to food.”
Jaehyun nods his head, glancing sideways before looking down at you. “Okay. Then invite me to dinner.” He reauests nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pocket as he copies your body language.
After blinking your eyes a few times, you say, “W-What like now? Do you want to eat dinner now?”
Jaehyun simply nods. It’s surprising how casual he is towards you, but you really liked it so you didn’t mind. “It’ll be nice if we could drink as well. I need to get Nayeon off my mind for tonight.”
You puff your cheeks and blew the air out. “I know a place.”
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It all feels crazy to you right now. You’ve only met Jaehyun in less than a week but here you are, having dinner with him. You could guess that he’s being awfully casual since he knows that you and Taeyong are friends. But it also surprised you as to how the silence between the two of you is comfortable.
The two of you eat in silence, munching on your food with your heads down and glancing at each other a few times while you look up to take a shot of soju.
You eventually start talking. Specifically about his college life and how he met Taeyong. You felt that it’s the only way to connect with him since he did graduate from the same college as the one you’re attending.
“What’s your major?” Jaehyun asks as he reaches his hand out to pour me a shot. I downed it quickly, exhaling calmly. “Psychology. Have pills of homework I need to get done.”
You click your tongue, twirling the fork in your hand as you feel the alcohol kicking in already. To be fair, you are one to get drunk easily. Jaehyun doesn’t know that, and you’ve subconsciously been drinking more than your usual intake as your chat with Jaehyun goes on.
“Really? Why didn’t you say? I took psychology too.” You raise both eyebrows in response, closing your eyes for a moment. “Perhaps you can help me.”
Jaehyun leans in, his chin resting on his fingers that were interlocked. “Should we go somewhere?” You tilt your head, placing a hand behind your neck and rubbing it gently. “Where exactly?” You question him.
“Your home. Where else? Taeyong must be worried that you’re drunk on a work night.” You scoff in amusement, your mouth still open after you did. “And? It’s just a part time job.” You giggle, covering your face with the palm of your hand. Clearly, you already weren’t in your right mind.
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You didn’t know how, but you blanked out. And somehow arrived at the rooftop of a run down apartment. But after looking around, you facepalm yourself in your mind, realising it’s your apartment’s rooftop that you’re at.
You had your head laid on Jaehyun’s shoulder. Turning your head slightly, it made Jaehyun look down on you. “Awake already?” He whispers, leaning in and making his face inches away from yours. To which you couldn’t help but blush in a matter of seconds.
“What time is it?” You scrambled around to find your bag to take out your phone but before you could turn of your phone, Jaehyun replies, “Two in the morning.” with a casual tone.
“Are you the type to wake up late?” He asks once again. You took this time, in your “drunken” state to snuggle your head into the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, finding a comfortable spot and breathing in his scent. A scent you could indulge yourself with all the time if you could.
You hum. “Yeah. Not gonna lie, I’ll probably be late tomorrow.” Your lips brushed against Jaehyun’s skin as you reply.
Jaehyun clears his throat, letting out a sigh. “Do you want to know why I always go to the same painting at the exhibit?” You bit your lower lip. Finally, the question you have asked yourself throughout the days when Jaehyun comes by.
“That one painting. It’s actually my grandmother’s. She painted it before she passed away. I found out about the exhibit Xiaojun was gonna open, and asked him to display for painting.”
As Jaehyun talks, you take in the atmosphere. The cold breeze against your skin. The night sky reflecting its moonlight onto the city’s streets and building. How peaceful it all felt, with the person you’ve been wanting this whole week the moment you saw him. You know how you got close to him, but it also felt as though you didn’t. Like a atring attached to the two of you, getting shorter and shorter till you reach this moment. A moment where you are so close that it feels like it’s too close.
“Her painting showed her own way of depicting love. I saw the other arts in the exhibit, it all had one general idea. Love. Different artists, different perspectives of love. Some showed it to be seen as butterflies and rainbows. While others depict it as something to stay away from, something you should be afraid of. Romantic love, that is.”
You hum, nodding your head. “I never expected you to be someone this deep.” You mumble. Jaehyun replies with a chuckle. A chuckle you have now grown used to. “I do art, other than psychology. But I stopped when I had to make more time for my major.”
“Continue.” You whisper. He takes a second to tilt his head up and taking in a deep breath before resuming.
“My grandmother’s painting showed both the good and bad sides of love. I knew her love life wasn’t a regular one. But I somehow was able to understand it after hours of just staring at her painting and its very brief description about it.”
You smile to yourself. You really could hear him talk for hours on end and never get tired of it.
“Want to know something?”
You absentmindedly wrap your arms around his torso, moving in close to get even more comfortable. It felt right just doing it. Surprisingly enough, Jaehyun wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close. Not too tight, not too loose. His touch sent constant electric shocks throughout your body. But it felt right. Just this moment alone, like time has frozen for you to admire it while it lasts.
“I hoped everyday you’d come to the exhibit. Just to see your face.” You say, closing your eyes as you feel his heartbeat on his chest, putting you at ease. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun’s drunk, if he’d remember anything you say. You did think of the embarrassment you’d have to face the next day, but you just didn’t bother.
“I caught your eye that fast?” Jaehyun asks.
You nod your head immediately. “You should know that yourself.”
The two of your laugh softly at the same time. This feeling, this moment. Is it the alcohol that’s doing all this? Is Jaehyun really like this or is it only when he’s drunk? Is he actually taking whatever you’re saying and can remember it the first thing in the morning?
You know you could’nt. Which is why you try to take in this night as much as possible so that it would be in your memory forever, dream or not.
“Let’s go to the exhibit together tomorrow. I’ll come by your house to pick you up.”
Silence ensues, this time it’s much longer. But as mentioned before, you felt comfortable, as though this is how it should have always been.
A sudden connection you feel with a mere stranger. Within days, you've formed an unfamiliar yet familiar bond with him, despite the minimal interactions. The world somehow made the two of you end up in such a cliche situation.
“Would love that.”
169 notes · View notes
ineffablebooklover · 3 years
Note
Oh goodness, I'm terrible at writing prompts, hmm......
Are you familiar with D&D/Pathfinder/tabletop RPG's in general? I'd love to see The Crows rolling up characters and playing a one-shot. I can't decide if I'd rather Kaz or Jesper be the GM. Both sound horribly great. 😆
Otherwise, in a very un-original but beloved AU, I'd love to see HP Drarry and Romione + SoC Kanej, Wesper, and Helnik in some kind of Coffee Shop setting (I owned my own shop for the better part of a decade, so I love those).
And Matthias always being alive, please, if you do either of these. ;)
And I don't care about fic length; whatever you feel inspired to do!
💜
The Crow Cafe Coffee Shop AU~ with the Crows, Ronmione, and Drarry
authors note: I got a bit carried away with the idea, and I added some plot. There’s going to be multiple parts to this (yay!) so I guess keep in tune!
Part 1. Kaz’s Crow Cafe
There is a cafe, down some streets in Downtown Ketterdam’s Stave, run by a boy and his friends. There, you can find stories, romance, and most importantly, a decent cup of coffee.
“Not for my coffee, you podge,” Kaz scoffed, slapping away Jesper’s offer of sugar with a glove-clad hand. “I’m just saying sugar prices are getting higher. We need to compensate for this fact.”
Kaz waited for questions, looking around the table. No one said anything. Kaz looked directly at Jesper, who sighed, taking back the sugar and dumping it in his own coffee.
“And how do you want us to do that?”
It was a chilly Saturday morning in early-September, and Kaz was giving his Saturday morning pre-opening briefing.
“Kaz, people come here for the low coffee prices. We can’t hike the prices really high,” Inej added. Jesper nodded, grabbing another packet of sugar.
Kaz sighed. “I know. I’m working on it. Just thought I’d let you two know.”
“Don't mind if I do,” Jesper cut in, pouring the sugar in his overly-caffeinated drink, “but shouldn’t good old Mr. Haskell be thinking about this instead of us?”
Kaz sipped his coffee, shrugging. “‘Old Mr. Haskell’, as you say Jesper, is old and inert.” Kaz sent a glance Inej’s way. “He won’t be doing much about it.”
Jesper just chugged his coffee, bouncing up and ready to start the day.
“Jesper, was it wise to take in that much sugar and caffeine?” Inej inquired as Jesper bounced around the shop.
“Probably, not,” Jesper grinned, flipping the sign to ‘Open’ as a few early-risers started to form a line in front of the Cafe.
A girl with tied back light brown hair entered the cafe first, a stack of textbooks and notebooks in her arms. She ordered a coffee and a pastry, and started working at a table.
She was followed by a tall, burly, blond male who Kaz was sure he’d seen before. Trailing him was Nina, a girl Kaz knew from previous jobs he had done with her to help keep up the profits. Next to the composed blond dude, Nina looked dead tired.
“Why do we even have to get up this early?” Nina whined.
“I have to do things later today and Sunday, this is a good time to work on the project,” the blond replied.
Nina groaned. “Good for you. I was going to get my beauty sleep.”
“Well you get to have a beautiful coffee instead,” Jesper said cheerfully. “Good morning, Nina! What will it be for you and your…” Jesper looked the blonde up and down. “...this hunk of a man, here?”
Nina smirked tiredly. “Yeah, that’s my hunk of a man to you,” she pointed a lazy finger at Jesper.
The blond huffed. “So impudent and improper. My name is Matthias. I will have a black coffee.”
Jesper typed it into his screen quickly. “And no cream, no sugar, nothing sweet?”
Matthias shook his head.
“Anyways, I’ll have a mocha, like 10 shots of coffee and lots of creamer,” Nina cut in.
Jespers slender fingers flew across the board. “Okay so that’s one coffee as bitter as Kaz’s soul, and a mocha with 4 shots of espresso and half of it basically milk. Is that all for today?”
Nina scanned the pastry rack and ordered two chocolate chip muffins. The two sat down, getting stuff out for a project.
Meanwhile, Inej bounced around in her athletic wear, preparing coffees. She finished one for the girl named Hermione, grabbed the apple strudel she wanted, and headed over.
“Hermione?”
Hermione turned, and greeted Inej with a smile. “Thank you. I’ll take those.”
Inej noticed the bigger table Hermione had chosen, and tilted her head. “Are you waiting for someone?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, my friends. They’re supposed to be here in about an hour, I’m just catching up on studying before they come. Is that alright with…” Hermione stared into the distance, where Kaz stood ominously staring at Inej.
“Oh he… he’s alright.,” Inej lifted a hand to wave at Kaz, who noticed and looked away. “That’s Kaz for you,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Pardon?” Hermione asked.
Inej just laughed nervously, brushing it off. “Enjoy your breakfast!” Inej went back to making coffee behind the counter watching Jesper chat up customers left and right. Inej was glad for his enthusiasm so early in the morning, she never liked taking Saturday morning shifts at 6AM, especially if they had meetings at 5:45.
“How’s it going Jesper?” Inej asked while preparing another cup. Jesper nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Holy- oh Inej. Oh Inej don’t sneak up on me like that. Besides that, I’m doing fine!”
Inej nodded and disappeared behind towers of cups and spouts of coffee. She prepared Nina’s things and brought it over. The two seemed to be arguing.
“I’m just saying- ooh, food!” Nina gasped, sitting up straight for the first time that morning. Inej smiled, placing the coffee and muffins down on the table. Matthias just watched her, arms crossed.
“Enjoy the food,” Inej smiled, then went back to the counter.
Kaz watched her silently from the side, then, noticing the line, straightened his gloves and walked over to help make coffee. They went through orders silently, Inej doing all of the walking, but they enjoyed each other's company. Inej and Kaz would work on an order or two, Kaz would place his finished ones on a counter for Inej to take. While Inej was gone, Kaz would get started on the next thing, and so on.
Eventually, Kaz went into the back and disappeared for a while, leaving Inej with the coffee work.
By this time, Hermione’s friends had come, and their study group looked like they were having a great time, though only ⅓ of them seemed to actually be doing any studying.
By 8, Inej and Jesper switched spots. Inej found that Jesper still loved people-watching, even behind the counter. Or... was he looking for someone?
Her suspicions were correct when a boy walked in, with ruddy, orange-brown curls. Jesper leaned into her, pointing him out. “I think he’s starting to be a consistent customer. At least on weekends. Have you seen him around school?”
Inej had in fact seen him around school. His name was Wylan and he was in Kaz’s math class, and in her Art and Gym class. During lunch, he was usually just drawing something or doing math homework by himself.
Inej nodded, then went back to a customer, leaving Jesper to speculate by himself.
When the boy with golden-brown curls stepped up, she asked what he wanted.
He looked up at the board for less than a second, then back to Inej. “I’ll have an iced coffee. With the cream.” Inej nodded and punched it into the computer.
“Your name?” She asked.
“Wylan,” Wylan smiled. Inej pretended to punch it in as if she hadn’t already.
“And… if you want, the Crow Cafe is thinking of starting a sort of rewards club for regular members. There’s more info up on the board, but all we need is your number,” Inej added effortlessly.
Wylan looked up at the board and back to Inej. “Uh… sure,” he said tentatively. He gave her his number and she pretended to type it in, instead writing it down on a piece of paper after he left the counter. She then looked up at the board to confirm her suspicions. There was nothing about a rewards club. So he can’t read, and yet he still pretends…
She tucked that information away, smirking as she slid the paper into Jesper’s back pocket.
Everything was going pretty smoothly (besides Nina and Matthias’ constant bickering) until the door opened and in walked the most pretentiously blond man Inej and seen, with an even blonder son.
_end of part 1_ thanks for reading, and for the commission!
next commission: Sleeping Beauty AU :)
16 notes · View notes
deecitys · 3 years
Text
blue, white, and a little bit of gold; z. chenle
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pairing: chenle x fem!reader
genre/warnings: school au, friends to lovers, student!chenle, fluff, swearing, food
word count: 2.7k
a.n.: this is part of the nct secret santa collab hosted by @neoculturechristmas ! i’m writing for @candychanhee i hope u enjoy <33
masterlist
lowercase intended
--
MONDAY, DEC. 14
“you’re really going to leave me alone?” you frown. “here? with mrs. s? out of all the teachers?”
your best friend, jiwoo, places her hand on your shoulder empathetically. “she called you. i’m terrified of her. the discussion is over, y/n.”
she bows like a ballerina and proceeds to jump away from you down the hall. you roll your eyes and push the wooden door open, sighing. the empty home economics classroom smells like freshly baked muffins, except evil freshly baked muffins, just because this is mrs. s’s classroom.
you walk up to the one desk you could find, clear of fabric scraps and needles, and dump your heavy backpack on it. the noise echos; or maybe it’s just your hyperactive brain anticipating for a jumpscare. in mrs. s’s classroom, anything can happen… 
but just as you were about to call for the terrifying teacher, the door rattles open behind you and you let out a yelp, scrunching down. 
“hey y/n,” a slightly familiar voice calls. you slowly shift your gaze to find zhong chenle. 
you’ve known chenle ever since middle school (you might’ve had a crush on him back then…), and he was in your friend group at one point, but you two have never crossed paths in particular especially after he was announced as mvp for the school basketball team and became mega popular. he was nice though, as far as you knew, and it was a sense of relief that you weren’t going to be the only one in mrs. s’s room.
“haha, um, hi chenle,” you force a smile and hold the desk to get up. something shifts in the storage room of the class, and when you two turn your attention to the noise, mrs. s enters the scene. her leather buckled shoes clack on the floor as she approaches you and chenle. 
“hello, chenle,” mrs. s greets the smiling boy with ink-black hair, and proceeds to frown on you through her narrow glasses. “you should’ve told me you’re here.”
“sorry,” you utter, avoiding eye contact.  
she mumbles something about kids these days. “i called you two here because i want to ask for a favor.” 
while mrs. s shuffles through her desk, you glance at chenle with wide eyes, who shrugs back in question.
“i’m on duty for planning, and you two are the highest performing in my classes. a week left.” mrs. s hands a piece of paper, and chenle reaches out to grab it.
“december 18th, friday, gym, at 6 through 8:30 pm… the winter dance?” he reads. “we’re supposed to plan it?”
“plan it, manage it, whatever else it needs,” mrs. s explains while you panic trying to think of an excuse out. chenle just stands, dumbfounded. “10 percent raise of semester grade of whatever class if it goes successfully.”
10 percent? holy shit, this is your chance. your math grade!
“we’re doing it!” you blurt out loudly, inducing an emotion (slight surprise? indistinguishable.) out of mrs. s for the first time. 
“we are?” chenle questions, to which you blink inanimately . “oh… oh yeah, we are. leave it to us! we’re really trustworthy, and we have teamwork. we’re, we’re practically best friends. you can count on us.” 
mrs. s slowly nods in approval while you force a big grin, grabbing your backpack and pushing chenle towards the door. “we’ll start planning now, thank you, see you in class!”
you two rush out of the room. “dear god,” you sigh.
“you know what? i need that grade raise, my english grade is, uh, kinda questionable.” chenle sighs. 
“so is my math grade, i’m literally about to be disowned. meet tomorrow after school at the gym?” you ask, and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. with a strained grin, you turn right around and speed walk to the end of the hall. jiwoo appears, peeking behind the corner. 
“is that zhong chenle?” 
--
TUESDAY, DEC. 15
“so…” you hold on to the ends of your puffy jacket to make sure they aren’t blown away by the freezing winter wind. “where do we start?”
“we could look at the gym and, i don’t know, envision the scene. i got the keys. and budgets tomorrow,” chenle enunciates, which you give a positive shrug to. 
the door creaks open and you hurry in to turn on the lights. you’ve been in here plenty of times before, and you try to remember the setup last year, hoping you would be able to get some inspiration. it’s interrupted by a tingly feeling in your nose and a following sneeze.
“god, it’s freezing in here too,” you exclaim. “doesn’t it get even colder? we’ll need to have everything indoors.” 
“do you think they’ll let us sell winter themed popsicles?” chenle asks. you frown at his contradicting question. he’s wearing a simple crewneck sweatshirt unlike you prepared for antarctica.
“...a hot chocolate stand?” he negotiates, noticing your glare. 
“a hot chocolate stand it is,” you take your phone out to write a note, pausing halfway to point at the spot near the entrance. “we could have it right there, with the entry fee stand, so people can grab one as they come.” 
“and this can be the dance floor?” chenle is now suddenly standing in the middle of the room. you nod, writing down another bullet point. 
--
“so, how was it?” jiwoo asks on the phone. 
“it wasn’t that awkward, he’s still chatty, actually,” you describe, twiddling the blanket you have over your head. “we got a week’s notice which is so shitty, but we got to everything we had to do and we’re on track. he comes up with the wildest, most unrealistic ideas, though. can you imagine popsicles in a winter dance? it’s fucking freezing, i’m going to work a bit on decorations after school so he doesn’t mess with it…”
--
WEDNESDAY, DEC. 16
“what are you wearing?” chenle lets out high-pitched laughs. it’s after school the next day, and this time, you’ve prepared for the climate. 
“what?” you frown. “it’s cold in there. i need to survive.”
“you look like a penguin.”
“it’s only five layers.”
“whatever you say, best friend,” chenle does a fancy little bow to lead you into the gym. you huff but follow him anyway.
“today, we have to do all the budget stuff,” he takes a seat on the open bleacher to open his laptop, and you hesitantly take a seat a feet away. “i actually did some research and found all the places we need to contact, with all the costs and fees written and added一 here.” he turns the laptop your way and you lean towards the laptop (NOT HIM, THE LAPTOP!) slightly to take a look. a lot of work with numbers is done and you’re actually quite astonished by the organization and amount.
“practice got cancelled, and so like i had a lot of time lying around. i’ve contacted some places if we already made the decisions on the specifics so some are finalized, um, if that’s okay,” he explains. you continue to scan through the spreadsheet. the dj, catering, lights, they’re all done.
“wow, chenle,” that’s what you manage to say. “i’m glad i did something too.” you quickly dig up your sketchbook from your backpack and flip through it until you find the decoration sketches. you hand it over to him with fully stretched arms, keeping your distance. “they’re all at target, all the stuff i marked. so we can go get them whenever, if the budget, you know, allows it.” you hold down the strong urge to bite your nails through the long, dreadful silence. where did the chatty chenle go while you needed his chattiness the most?
“this is really cool,” he finally speaks. “and it fits our budget, so it’s perfect. i remember you being really good at art in middle school! guess you didn’t change.”
you flush (for no absolute reason!) and quickly take the drawing away, mumbling up a ‘thanks’. 
“uh, anyways, today all we have to do is contact the rest of the people on the list, and then we’ll buy the stuff tomorrow, sell last minutes tickets on thursday, and theeeen we’ll decorate and see how the dance goes on friday, right? since the school’s been advertising since, what, last week?” you speak quickly to change the subject. he doesn’t seem to notice and instead nods. 
--
“tomorrow, we’re driving to target to get all the decorations. hey, remember when i liked him in middle school?” you ask jiwoo. it’s after school and you’re at her house, doing homework. she looks up from her science assignment to give you a look.
“don’t tell me you’re starting to like him again,” she laughs.
“hey, what’s wrong with that?” you raise your voice slightly, then turn your attention back to your laptop, suddenly self-conscious. “i mean, not that i like him, anyway.”
“you know i can see right through you?” jiwoo doesn’t take her gaze off of you for the long period of silence that follows. you roll your eyes.
“fine, whatever, i may have the tiniest physical symptoms of liking him again or whatever,” you admit. jiwoo giggles, then scrunches closer to you.
“so, what do you like about him?” she asks enthusiastically.
“i mean… he has a nice smile, yeah, that,” you mumble.
“and?”
“i guess he’s funny, and nice, and actually kind of responsible, i don’t know, and his voice一” 
your description is interrupted by jiwoo’s screech.
“shouldn't have brought it up…” you sigh.
--
THURSDAY, DEC. 17
what have you gotten yourself into?
out of all the cars, you’re sitting at the front seat of ZHONG CHENLE’s car. he’s driving. CHENLE IS DRIVING. 
the familiar roads aren’t so familiar when you’re in such a peculiar situation. he drives nicely though. and there’s the radio on. and he’s humming. super nicely. that’s so attractive. there’s nothing particularly attractive about humming, but on chenle it is. SHUT UP Y/N! 
“do you sing?” you unconsciously ask.
“yeah, actually,” he answers. “my dad doesn’t like it, though, actually, so i don’t tell a lot of people. he just wants me to focus on basketball, because i don’t sing in a deep tone like the opera people, and he thinks if i don’t do that, it’s not manly enough, or whatever.”
the mood… you brought up the wrong topic, you think. “sounds like what jake would say,” you reply in a lighter note. “remember him? the super old school kid from 7th grade?”
“oh my god, YES,” chenle laughs, moving on to talk about him and middle school memories until you reach target. you quickly find the party decoration section and pick out the things. you’re on your last item when chenle taps your shoulder. he’s holding packages of golden sparkly streamers.
“i know the colors are blue and white, but imagine a little bit of gold. a little bit of sparkle, but no annoying glitter shit! what do you say?” he anticipates. 
“actually, pretty cool, yeah,” you say, and chenle pumps his arm before throwing the packages into the shopping basket. 
“i was about to just say no without listening after that one time you suggested we get popsicles, but good suggestion. love the improvement!” you half-joke. he immediately mocks you, which you laugh at.
the car is loaded up and now you’re on your way back. you two chat about the most random things, from taste in food to tv shows to traumatic but funny experiences, and you keep yawning. it’s been a long day.
chenle drives out of route, but you’re too tired to realize; the most you can do is keep up with the conversation. a blink later and you’re at the drive-thru of starbucks. “pick a drink, miss,” he rolls the window down when the car stops front of the menu.
“me?” you ask in surprise.
“yes, you.” chenle laughs. “you look so dead right now, it’s only 5 pm. i think we both need a caffeine boost for homework.”
“ooh, so thoughtful of you,” you dramatize.
 he rolls his eyes. “shut up, i’m paying.”
“caramel macchiato please, mr. zhong!”
you sit patiently while he orders and gets the drinks; a caramel macchiato for you and a café latte for himself. you sip the drink in now comfortable silence and bliss (who wouldn’t be happy with a free drink?) on the way back. 
“why didn’t we ever talk before?” chenle asks, breaking the silence.
“dunno,” you say. “just we didn’t have any reasons to, i guess,”
“remember when i told mrs. s we were practically best friends? maybe that wasn’t a lie.”
for once, you love mrs. s so much right now.
--
FRIDAY, DEC. 18 (D-DAY!)
with the help of chenle’s friends, decorations are up on time and students show up to the dance. everything goes by plan and people are thriving, except… jiwoo had a change of plans last minute. and you were going to ask her to help ask chenle out.
“i’m telling you, it’s the perfect chance,” over the phone, jiwoo’s voice sounds passionate and a little distorted. it’s a little hard to tune into with the background noise, even outside of the dance room alone. “once this is over, nothing happens, and winter break starts, you guys will end up like before. distance friends with zero interactions and zero chances. take the risk while you can, y/n!”
“but you aren’t here to help me!” you whine. “i’ve never done this before! i wasn’t prepared for this! i’m not the kind of person to be doing this!”
“and you’ll never be prepared anyway, so what’s the point of waiting?” jiwoo argues. “don’t be a pussy and go for it. if he likes you back, that’s cool, and if he doesn’t, you have nothing to worry about because you guys won’t have a reason to talk anymore. now, i have an angry mother to deal with, so i’m hanging up, peace out and tell me how it goes. love you, bye!” 
your urgent call of her name is interrupted by a long and loud beep. you sigh. 
as much as you hate to admit, she’s right. there isn’t any other excuse to keep talking to him. you check the time, and it’s almost 8; half an hour until the dance ends.
“fuck it,” you say to yourself, pushing the heavy door open and meeting the warm and noisy atmosphere. it’s not long until you find chenle chatting with the dj. you take a deep breath feets away from his back and decide to approach him that way. 
“chenle! chenle!” you whisper-yelled through the booming music. he turns around immediately, eyes wandering until he finds you. 
“y/n! y/n!” he whisper-yells back. 
“i need to tell you something important.” you take his arm and start to drag him towards the door out.
“you good? what’s up?” he asks. you shake your head, signaling it’s too loud in the gym, and point to the door, continuing to pull him. through your booming heartbeat you keep calm until you reach the cold outdoor air where you finally let go of chenle.
“so, um, hi,” you greet, to which chenle chuckles.
“hey.”
“the important thing is,” you take a deep breath in. “ithinkilikeyouandithinkweshouldgoout.” 
it takes a second for him to process your fast words. maybe you shouldn’t have confessed, you think. you internally scream, and this is the longest second of your LIFE.
“uhh, this isn’t fair,” chenle argues, and you’re stand there, dumbfounded. ?_? “i was going to ask you out! life is so unfair.”
you gasp. “you’re KIDDING.”
“no, i’m not. uh, so, like, i think yes. what am i saying… i’m saying that yes, we should go out.” chenle looks nervous. CHENLE LOOKS NERVOUS!
“i was NOT expecting that,” you say.
“well, i wasn’t either, on my end,” chenle laughs. 
“well,” you hold yourself back from screaming and jumping. “we should go back in, we’re the managers, y’know?” chenle nods, taking your hand to walk back into the gym. smooth.
“also, y/n, when i bought you starbucks, the intention was not to seduce you, just wanted to clarify. that was only like, four bucks. you’re worth more than four bucks, i swear.” chenle rants.
“glad to hear,” you roll your eyes but end up laughing anyway. 
there couldn’t have been a better winter dance.
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yellowocaballero · 4 years
Text
Not Your Queer-Coded Disney Villain: Annabelle & Web!Jon Ficlet
Got bored again today and forced myself to write something that wasn’t gratuitously long. Set in the same universe (or, one of the universes) as The Convention on Chronographer Lane, but it’s completely unnecessary to have read that one before this. 
Content warning for (apparent and fake) predation of a student by a teacher, body horror, and spiders. REVERSE content warning for A PSYCH 101 LECTURE WRITTEN BY SOMEONE WHO WAS A TA FOR PSYCH 101. ACCURATE SCIENCE, BITCHES. 
“What am I turning into?” Annabelle asked, after a half-second of rapid thought. “Who are you? And what do spiders have to do with any of this?”
Jon smiled again broadly, grey eyes dancing with a barely hidden delight. “You’re fully aware that these are all the same question.”
“Then answer them. You said you’re here to help me. Then help me.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “We’ll negotiate a price later.”
“This one is a freebie,” Jon said. He leaned back, face fading into the shadow of the dim yellow light of the hanging light. “You’re turning into something much akin to myself.”
In the darkness, Annabelle saw Jon open his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes…
Annabelle was sleeping through Psych again.
In her defense, she was really tired. The nightmares had been getting worse every day, and yesterday she hadn’t gotten more than forty minutes of sleep without jolting up in the middle of the night. She had flipped on the light five times during the night, hysterically convinced that bugs were crawling over her and earning the eternal ire of her roommate. Whatever - Irene would forgive her once she bought her an iced coffee from that campus shop she liked. If Annabelle gave it to her later at night, she’d stay up later and would be less likely to bitch when Annabelle inevitably made a stink at three am again.
It didn’t matter. Psych was tediously easy anyway. Not that everything wasn’t tedious, but there were few things more boring than listening to the drone of Mr. Sims’ voice. She had no idea how that guy had a fanclub. Emmanuela Odugawa had asked her if she thought that he recited Piaget’s developmental stages in bed. Barf. 
Thankfully, Annabelle had mastered the art of sleeping with her eyes open in class and barely aware enough to recognize when somebody called her name a decade ago, and she ruthlessly used this skill now. She dropped into a half-doze, and was only startled into awareness when she heard the word that had been running in a nonstop track loop through her mind for the past month. 
“Phobia: an extreme or irrational fear or aversion to something.” Mr. Sims adjusted his glasses, pressing a button on his laptop that advanced the slides. “It’s an interesting definition, in my opinion. Like many things in Psychology, it is almost infuriatingly vague. How do you define ‘extreme’? How do you define ‘irrational’? Oftentimes, that label is determined by society, science, and our therapists. However, I believe you can argue that phobias are the most rational thing of all.”
Annabelle rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. These auditorium classrooms were always freezing. 
“The concept of aversion is heavily rooted in evolution and biology. Anyone here ever eat any bad shrimp?” He didn’t wait for a response. “The smell of seafood probably made you sick for weeks afterwards. Our bodies are primed to detect poison, just as they are to detect danger. Phobias rooted in modern, abstract concepts - clowns, elevators, airplanes - are easy to extinguish. But phobias rooted in real, present, perpetual dangers, the sort of dangers that threatened the lives of cavemen, are far more difficult to ignore.” 
Despite herself, Annabelle found herself awake. She found herself listening. 
“Snakes. Heights. The Dark. Dogs, bears, large animals. Storms, driving, insects.” Mr. Sims’ looked up at the auditorium, and Annabelle could have sworn that he was looking right at her, he was looking at her. Annabelle’s breath caught, her heart thumping in her chest - a little differently than it used to. “Spiders.” 
A horrible clicking echoed in Annabell’s ears. She was afraid that it was her. 
Then he looked away, and the spell was broken. “Phobias are one of the most powerful and motivational forces in human evolution. Like mental illnesses, pack bonds, and emotional needs, the perceived weaknesses of the human mind can frequently be some of the most powerful forces that allow the survival of the human species. It isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. I find that a useful way to think of humanity, and of ourselves: that our weaknesses can make us very strong indeed. Next slide…”
If Mr. Sims said anything after that, Annabelle didn’t hear it.
She didn’t pay any attention to anything he said until the end of class, when she shrugged on her cute little silver backpack and merged into the stream of students filtering out of the classroom. A few students had stayed behind to talk to Mr. Sims, and he appeared wrapped in conversation with the giggling girls, but somehow he picked her out of the thick crowd. 
“Annabelle?” Mr. Sims asked. “Stay after, please.”
So she leaned against the long sweep of desks, left with nothing to do but squint at Mr. Sims as he spoke with another student about the requirements for the upcoming paper, wondering why he looked so familiar. 
All of the other students had assumed he was in his late twenties - “total DILF”, they all inanely assured her - but Annabelle wasn’t so sure. Despite the already graying hair, small glasses, and severe expression, she really wouldn’t put him any older than 23.
Maybe his greying temples were hair dye. Or stress did that to you, right? Annabelle squinted. But when Annabelle looked closer, if she really focused, then she really wasn’t sure it was his hair color at all. 
So she looked closer. Her eyes had been itching for the past week. She had caught her skin flaking and peeling, and instead of pink raw skin underneath there was hard and scratchy black necrosis. Her eyes itched now, as if they were striving to split apart, and if Annabelle only let them then they would burst. And as her eyes itched in a horrible, visceral pain, she thought that maybe the white at Mr. Sims’ temples was the thin, sticky webs of spider-silk. 
“Annabelle? Are you alright?”
She snapped back to attention, fairly embarrassed. She had been zoning out more in the past month than she had her entire life. Her older siblings had said that college would be rough, but she hadn’t known it would be this rough. This wasn’t like her. None of this was like her. 
“I’m great,” Annabelle said reflexively. All of the other students were gone, and Mr. Sims was staring at her over his glasses. “Sorry. Is this about my test…?”
“No. You did quite well on your test. Best in the class, actually.” Mr. Sims smiled at her, as if this was a compliment or important. “Is that why you’ve been so bored in class?”
Ah. Busted. A rare thing for Annabelle. She affected a faux-abashed posture and expression. “Sorry, Mr. Sims. I’ve been staying up ‘til two every morning trying to get my homework done on time. If I’m ever going to go to med school…”
“I thought you were a poli sci major,” Mr. Sims said cheerfully. Annabelle fought a shudder - how did he know so much about her? This class had 200 students.
“Double major,” Annabelle said blithely. “I’m sorry about sleeping in class, I’ll manage my time better. It won’t happen again.”
“Yes, yes.” Mr. Sims waved her apology away, as if that wasn’t what he had been looking for. Then what had he been looking for? “I’m afraid I had somewhat of an ulterior motive for speaking to you today.” He leaned in a little, pulling his glasses down, and his foggy grey eyes - same color as the grey at his temples - focused solely on her. Annabelle made her eyes bigger, and she leaned in too, adjusting her posture so she looked smaller. “You’ve been doing very well in class. I actually wanted to invite you to a meeting. About...oh, your potential for med school. I’m excited to see you succeed. I think you could do quite well in whatever field you choose, and I’d like to help. It would be just us, of course.”
Ding ding ding. Annabelle affected a giggle. “I could totally use the help! Like, in your office? Or, like...lunch, or…?”
“I was thinking dinner, actually,” Mr. Sims smiled. “How’s Bombay Bicycle Club?”
Restaurant and bar, with a casual yet dignified atmosphere. Not formal enough to put up anybody’s guard, but nice enough that a freshman girl could feel treated and be impressed. Most importantly, it was popular among the businessman crowd and almost nobody on campus visited it. Annabelle used it herself to meet up with her sugar daddies all the time. 
For a brief, strange moment, Annabelle felt as if he did - but of course he didn’t. But it wasn’t impossible. But if he knew, then why wasn’t he blackmailing her? Was the blackmail for later, once he got her alone? This was probably a power play, getting her off balance by insinuating that he knows but not being explicit about it. He’d probably pull out the blackmail, ‘I’ll ruin your reputation you slut etc’, once they actually got there. Not that he could - Annabelle had contingency plans - but she would have to be careful to actually record him propositioning her anyway. Worst case scenario they had a MAD situation, best case she could squeeze him. Probably not for very much money, since grad students were poor as dirt, and she didn’t exactly need him to boost her grades...get him to slip her the test key and sell the test key? That could work. She could probably get him to strategically cut grades, which was a service that Annabelle could probably sell to students with a grudge…
But then Mr. Sims smiled at her, as if he knew what she was thinking, and Annabelle realized that she had been silent too long. She wanted to come off as panicked, maybe desperate, definitely flattered. 
“Sure!” Annabelle said, barely having to feign the anxious creak in her voice. “What time? I have night classes, so…”
“Next Friday at six,” Mr. Sims said instantly. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.” Annabelle affected Smile #35 - shy virgin. Mr. Sims’ grin widened. Annabelle silently put aside the ‘Catholic schoolgirl’ outfit for Friday. “See you then!”
She turned around, gave him a shy smile, and bounced off. She had just opened the heavy door out of the room when she heard him speak again, freezing her in her tracks. 
“Oh, Annabelle - how is the study with Dr. Bates going?”
And his question panicked her so much, made her heart change rhythm and made her skin itch as if something was straining to come out of it, made her eyes itch and crawl and burst, that every calculated move went out the window. She didn’t answer his question, didn’t even give an excuse - she just ran out the door, bright purple vintage boots thumping against the linoleum, breath catching in a chest where she was no longer sure she even had ribs. 
Most of her was already calculating. She was already two months into uni, she had to start establishing her power base. The minute her sorority accepted her she’d have greater access to money, popularity, and influence, but she needed reach with the administration too.  Mr. Sims was her in. This was a good thing. 
But part of her was disappointed, because she had liked him, and she felt a little used. Feelings of disgust, as strong and vivid as in her nightmares, rose in her chest. She squished far down in her chest, familiar with the feeling and effortlessly repressing it.  
Annabelle was good with disgusting things. 
She had another session with the Arachnophobia study on Monday. Which went fine. It was fine! She didn’t wake up that morning so sick with nerves that she almost threw up. She didn’t stare at her email inbox for thirty minutes, begging herself to cancel and drop out of the study. Nope. 
She distracted herself by befriending all of her roommate’s friends and dropping faux-concerned gossip about how cranky and anxious Irene’s been lately, have you noticed she’s been blaming me for how badly she’s sleeping? It was really super sad, frowny face, how do you think I can help, frowny face frowny face frowny face? 
So Annabelle went to the Arachnophobia study (it was fine), had increasingly realistic and vivid nightmares about her chest caving in and a nest of spiders crawling out of her chest and eating her eyes, and slept through class. It was all fine. 
She should have gone to Oxford. It still made her a little bitter. She had been smart enough to get in, but she hadn’t been smart enough to get the full scholarship. She couldn’t afford it, so instead she was stuck in University of Surrey, where dreams went to die. Future politicians should go to Oxford. Yeah, Surrey had some peers and Parliament members, whatever. She needed better, Oxford and awards and money. From there, from some swotty school or another, it was easy street. Annabelle deserved easy street, and she deserved Oxford, and it just wasn’t fair -
After another three am nightmare, Annabelle blearily scrolled through her sibling groupchat. Barney was doing great in med school. Tricia had posted her maternity photos. Wow, look at that, Robin had gotten a commendation at his law firm. Whatever. 
No hope of distinguishing herself in the world. No hope of distinguishing herself in her stupid family. She was smarter than any of her siblings, brighter and better than those doctors and lawyers and accountants, but nobody cared. Mum and Dad were living their retirement in comfort and cooing over their grandchildren, finally rewarded in old age for all their hard work. 
If Annabelle dropped off the face of the earth, nobody would even notice. 
It should have been a depressing thought. The idea that nobody cared about her, not really, that nobody knew the real her. But somehow it just made her heart beat faster in excitement. 
The idea of disappearing from all of this, of cutting herself free from a thousand threads that brought her plummeting down to earth...in the cold hours of that dark morning, to an eighteen year old terrified and alone in uni, it was a siren song. 
It was a siren song that sounded, oddly, like the chittering and scuttling of a thousand tiny bodies, but Annabelle was learning to look beyond that. 
By the time next Friday rolled around, Annabelle was considering breaking her self-imposed rule against drugs and popping a Xanax. But that wouldn’t help her exhaustion, the persistent bone-deep frazzled sensation of going a week on almost no sleep whatsoever, so she settled for an espresso as she wriggled herself into a tight, slinky plaid dress paired with a puffy olive green windbreaker. She wasn’t sure if she owned any clothing that was made after 1990 - a habit born from a childhood of shopping from thirst stores, and continued voluntarily into high school when she started making her own money online fleecing suckers. It was her, so much as anything was. 
“Hot date?” Irene asked, bending over her Physics textbook without looking up. She glanced at her vibrating phone, scowling. Poor baby - her friends were staging an intervention. “New guy or old guy?”
“New guy,” Annabelle said vaguely, carefully picking out a bold red lipstick - or did that seem too forward? Should she go for a natural look? “If I’m not back by midnight call the police. I’ll text you a picture of his car.”
“Roger.” Irene flipped a page of her textbook, oblivious to the fact that she was one of the few people Annabelle genuinely liked. Not enough not to screw with her, but she liked her. “He’s not good enough for you, something something.”
“Darling,” Annabelle said, winking into the mirror, “nobody is.”
She hoped Irene believed it. She didn’t. 
It wasn’t a frequent occurrence that Annabelle wished she was stupid, but today she wished she was stupid enough to take a power nap during her ten minute Uber ride. Her mind felt frazzled and frayed, as if it had been taken out of her scalp and spread out with a rolling pin onto a floured countertop. She felt as if she was melting, her vision spiralling into fractals or blurring out. She wanted to sleep. God, she’d do anything for some sleep -
So she blared Bad Romance in her frayed earbuds instead, clutching her iPod Touch tightly, pulling herself together. Gaga, give her strength. 
By the time that she tipped her driver, effortlessly found Mr. Sims’ car in the parking lot of Bombay Bicycle Club and texted Irene the license plate (Volkswagen, obviously), she had dragged herself into focus. She stapled on her confident posture and walk - no, we’re going with ingenue today, make it shy and hesitant - and slipped inside the restaurant, making a show of holding her clutch tight to her chest and looking around with big eyes. 
She saw him instantly. He was sitting in a corner booth, head down and texting on his phone with a half-smile. The corner booth was poorly lit, light dampened by the wood panelling and soft leather seats, and half of his face was draped in shadow. 
Great. She had even arrived ten minutes early just so she could pick a brightly lit, intimate little table in the center of the room. This guy - he was almost like her. He was almost like her, but he was better. 
Annabelle fought the urge to grind her teeth. She smiled instead, waving cheerfully until he raised his head. He smiled back at her, wriggling his fingers, and Annabelle wove around the tables until she could slide into the seat across from him. 
“This is cozy!” She said brightly. “Thank you so much for inviting me out, Mr. Sims. It’s been ages since I got away from my books -”
“Oh, cut that shit out,” Mr. Sims said, bored. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
Annabelle’s mind shut down. Error 404, blue screen of death. 
“I’m sorry,” she said pleasantly, smile frozen on her face. “What?”
But Mr. Sims just shrugged listlessly, slumping against the cushioned wall. His expression was no longer fond, indulgent, haughty. He just looked bored now, as if he was too tired and underpaid to deal with eighteen year olds. “I don’t want to sit through this entire dinner fending off flirting. We have actual business to talk about, and I am uninterested in beating around the bush when there’s no point. You aren’t even subtle.”
“Excuse me -” Annabelle started, enraged, but Mr. Sims put up a hand and cut her off. 
The change was instant. On a dime, Mr. Sims straightened his posture, swept a finger through his hair to transform it from slicked back professor type to windswept, adopted a friendly and casual expression, and leaned in as if he was happy and excited to be sitting with Annabelle. In a moment he dropped ten years. Barely a second after his transformation the waiter approached them, holding a notepad, and Annabelle realized with a start that he had noticed the waiter coming before she did. 
“How are you two doing tonight?” the waiter asked politely, smiling at the both of them in a rote routine that Annabelle remembered from her own days waitressing. 
“Doing great!” Mr. Sims said, and even his accent was different, closely matching her own. He glanced back at Annabelle, nothing but open and friendly. “Mum says get whatever you want, dork. It’s on her bill, so let’s run her out of house and home.”
Instinctually, Annabelle shot back, “Aren’t you old enough to take me out to eat with your own money, loser?”
“Not with your stomach!” Mr. Sims laughed, and the waiter chuckled along too. Mr. Sims effortlessly rapped out an order for the waiter, before Annabelle even got a chance to look at the menu, and when she floundered Mr. Sims just rolled his eyes and ordered for her too. It was, somehow, her favorite food. 
He waited for the waiter to move onto the next table, eyeing him carefully, before he let the persona drop. Mr. Sims sagged again, dropping the friendly act, sizing her up from half-lidded eyes. 
“How did he even believe that,” Annabelle said flatly. “We don’t look anything alike.”
“White people will believe anything,” Mr. Sims said, rolling his eyes. “I have the Belgian government convinced I’m an Iraqi scientist and most high profile Australian celebrities think I’m Egyptian royalty.”
“...does Egypt have -”
“Nope.”
Annabelle was beginning to feel a little like the star actress in the school play who got upstaged in every way by the villain’s performance. Nobody did what she did. Nobody did what she did, but better. 
“Don’t feel insecure,” Mr. Sims said, as if he could read her mind. “I’m a good actor, and I’m excellent at reading people. But I can’t plan or plot like you do. I’m shit at thinking three steps ahead, much less thirty. You can keep plots and schemes going for years - decades, even, if I were to guess. I’m not sure how someone as competent as you can have self-esteem issues.”
Annabelle bristled. “You try having nobody care about you for - how do you even know that shit about me?” Something terrible occurred to her. “Are you some kind of stalker, Mr. Sims?”
Mr. Sims shuddered in real disgust. “It’s Jon. And no, of course not. You just aren’t as subtle as you think you are.”
Yes, she was. She was subtle to everyone on the planet - everyone save, maybe, Jon. Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Jon said immediately. 
“Liar. Everybody wants something.”
“I’m here altruistically,” Jon said, the perfect picture of innocence. “Really. I’m here to help you, Annabelle.”
“You are stalking me.” Annabelle leaned forward, but Sims didn’t move. “Are you even a real graduate student?”
“Absolutely not. I’m twenty three, I got my Psych degree last year and I’ve been bouncing odd jobs since.” Jon shrugged, as Annabelle felt silently vindicated. Nothing about this man acted like a twenty three year old - she remembered her siblings at twenty-three, there was nothing adult about them - but it was probably just another persona. She wondered how far she’d have to scratch to get to the real Jon Sims. 
“So you were just at Surrey to spy on me,” Annabelle said slowly. “I don’t know what country you’re from, but in England that’s definitely stalking.”
“I’d call it scouting,” Jon said. The waiter dropped by to place their drinks on the table - Jon had gotten a mule for himself, and he had ordered water for Annabelle in a move uncharacteristic for a sketchy guy. He waited until the waiter left to continue. “Call me a recruiter.”
“For who? What kind of job recruiter teaches a class for two months just to get to me?”
“How’s your study with Dr. Blake going, Annabelle?” Jon said, almost randomly, and Annabelle shut up. He must have seen something in her eyes, because a sharp little grin stretched in the corner of his narrow and sharp face. “Thought so. What do you dream of, Annabelle? In the cold corners of night, what fears come to life in the dark recesses of your mind?”
Maybe, Annabelle thought inanely, this was a dream too. Just an extended nightmare, one she hadn’t woken up from. It felt like that: distant and strange, hyper-real and unreal. This strange man sitting in front of her, who swapped faces so easily even Annabelle couldn’t keep up, was far too out of place to truly exist. 
Or maybe he was the first real person she had met in a very long time. 
Jon continued talking, as if she had responded. Maybe she had. “I am not a hero in this story. If I was, I would have come earlier. I would have deleted your name from the pool of subjects, and I would have made it so that you never got that call.” Jon looked away from her for the first time, letting a little sadness show on his face. “I couldn’t. No - no, I could have, I simply chose not to. You’re important, Annabelle. And I didn’t want to rob you of something that you may grow to treasure. I’m afraid that the choice you make now may not be much of a choice at all - but, perhaps, there is still a chance. At the very least, I would like to make this transition a little easier for you. It is a terrible thing, to have to do it alone.”
That…
“That was so vague it was completely meaningless.”
Jon barked a laugh, strangely delighted. “It’s not fair to speak in circles to somebody who’s gone a week without sleep!”
“But you’re doing it on purpose,” Annabelle said, too dead inside to feel mad.
“Oh, absolutely. I am not taking the risk of taking you on at full power.” Jon smiled at her, as if they were friends sharing a joke. “I saw what you did to that Walker boy in secondary.”
Despite herself, Annabelle smiled. “Hear he gets out on parole in five.” Something else occurred to her, a bit belatedly. “You are stalking me!”
“Does a spider stalk the fly that strikes a string on its web?” Jon asked cheerfully. “Or is it simply investigating an encroachment into its territory?”
“Does that mean that you’re going to eat me?” Annabelle said archly. “Thought you said you didn’t want to fuck me. Rude, by the way.”
Almost hilariously, Jon wrinkled his nose. “Sex is a waste of time, resources, and my attention. Can’t imagine why people are so obsessed.”
“I know, right!” Annabelle burst out, before she could help herself. “Do you have any idea how much money I get a month from guys just to talk to me? It’s like they’re aliens! Why do people fuck or date if it’s not to manipulate someone?”
“Right! It’s ridiculous.”
It was the first time anybody had ever agreed with her on that. It was the first time she had even told anybody she felt that way. For a brief second, Annabelle felt connected to Jon. It was the first time that happened in...a very long time. 
Jon was the first person Annabelle had ever met who was like her. Everybody in Annabelle’s life had always been either useful or useless. Jon seemed above that, somehow. To be beyond utility, to exist on your own power...what did that look like? To be the powerful, instead of the powerless?
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many puppet strings Annabelle tied around her fingers, she was never powerful. Not really. She was eighteen, from a nothing family, and no matter how many molehills she made herself queen of she would never rule the mountain. She couldn’t get as far as she wanted with what she had. The only reason she had even volunteered for the stupid Arachnophobia experiment was because she needed to crush out weakness in herself, erase the hidden flaws in her mind.
But Jon said her flaws were strengths. What made her weak could be turned into power. 
Annabelle needed more, more, more. She needed everything, if she was to have anything. She needed what Jon had. 
Everything Annabelle said had a purpose. Every word she used was chosen carefully, every little gesture or body language was calculated. She said nothing without thinking, and she could do it so quickly nobody even noticed. Jon would notice, a con man as perfect as she was.
Let him. Give her two straight days to sleep, and they’d have a real battle of wits. In the meantime, she just had to pick her questions strategically.
“What am I turning into?” Annabelle asked, after a half-second of rapid thought. “Who are you? And what do spiders have to do with any of this?”
Jon smiled again broadly, grey eyes dancing with a barely hidden delight. “You’re fully aware that these are all the same question.”
“Then answer them. You said you’re here to help me. Then help me.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “We’ll negotiate a price later.”
“This one is a freebie,” Jon said. He leaned back, face fading into the shadow of the dim yellow light of the hanging light. “You’re turning into something much akin to myself.”
In the darkness, Annabelle saw Jon open his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes…
All eight of Jon’s glittering black eyes shone in the darkness, straining her own and making her head thump. It was wrong, outside of humanity or reality, and it felt as if the very sight was straining the fabric of her delicately maintained life so tight it would tear. It felt as if it was tearing her, right in two, ruining her forever. Her eyes felt like they were going to burst out of her head. 
She didn’t want to know what would replace them. But she had the feeling that she already did. 
“Then what,” Annabelle gritted out, “are you?”
“I am the eldest and most treasured Son of the Mother of Spiders,” Jon said. He smiled at her, just a little, almost apologetic. “Sorry about that. I know you’ve always wanted to be an only child.”
Ah. Duh. Obviously. She should have known.
“...do I want to know who the Mother of Spiders is?”
“Your mother, should you choose to accept her,” Jon said cheerfully, leaning back into the light, and his face was normal again. Human as ever. Strange and foreign as ever - possibly everything, possibly nothing. “I know you aren’t strictly in the market for adoption, but you may not have much of a choice. You’ve felt her scratching beneath her skin. She’s going to tear out of you, and soon. Did you know some species of wasp lay their eggs in the body of spiders to provide food for the grubs?”
“During the next experiment,” Annabelle said dully, already filtering out Jon’s useless tidbits of information. That was a guy who spoke for the sake of hearing himself talk. “That’s when it’s happening. When I’ll...change.”
“Yes. It’s a painful process,” Jon said, and it was almost apologetic. “My own happened when I was fifteen - quite young, all things considered. I still remember the sound of my bones snapping as -”
“Don’t.”
“Of course! Anyway, I thought I’d make sure you had...to use the psych term, informed consent, before you entered the crucible. Our - my, sorry - Mother often foregoes true consent in our operations. The beauty of nature!” Jon laughed, as Annabelle felt sick. “Agnes wanted to put together a pamphlet, but then we let Gerry go wild on the clipart and...well, it’s better if I just explain. I can’t give you the full story now, but I’ll tell you as much as your mind can comprehend.”
Annabelle wasn’t sure she could even comprehend this. It was so much, and she was so tired. She had just heard that her body was going to rupture like a cocoon and give birth to a giant spider that may or may not also be her, and all she could think about was the fact that she wanted to go back to bed. Somehow, all she could ask was -
“Why?” She asked, so stupid and pointless, as if she was stupid, as if she wasn’t her at all. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s like I said.” In the dim yellow lighting, Jon’s eyes glittered pure black, and in that brief and stupid second Annabelle felt as if they were the same in that way. “Nobody should have to go through this alone and ignorant.” Then the moment was over, and his eyes were a human grey again, just left of normal. “Besides. Siblings stick together, right?”
“I hardly need more siblings,” Annabelle snapped. 
“You’re about to lose seven of them real soon,” Jon promised, extremely worryingly, “so I’d take what you can get right now, Annabelle.”
“Are you going to kill -”
“Unfortunately, you may have to fake your own death!”
Then their food came, and Annabelle received her first lesson in the class of hard knocks. 
They talked for hours. It took hours, to even just get a picture of the story. Jon was patient, answering every question, and Annabelle strained so hard trying to fight through her exhaustion, trying to understand the answer, Jon’s motivation in answering it or what he could be leaving out, that by the end of it she felt as if she had run a marathon. She had never felt so tired in her life, in the most dangerous situation in her life, with the most dangerous person she had ever met. 
By the end of it, Irene was texting her to ask if she was dead, and Annabelle was falling asleep at her chair. Jon cut an end to their conversation when he slid out his wallet, covered the bill with a black Amex card, and slid a business card against the table. Annabelle squinted down at it. 
The text in the center just said [FREELANCERS]. That was it. She stared at it.
Underneath the vague word, she saw a phone number [555-555] and an email [[email protected]]. Annabelle looked up to stare at Jon. “Are you for real?”
“Almost never,” Jon said cheerfully, “but the card will make sense when it needs to. Let me take you back to your dorm, alright? You can get some sleep in the car.”
If he was a creep, she was dead anyway. Annabelle didn’t bother arguing. She grabbed her jacket and got in the passenger seat of his car, and true to his word Annabelle drifted asleep almost immediately. She even felt as if the ride took longer than ten minutes, as if he drove in circles just waiting for her.
For the first time in a week, Annabelle slept uninterrupted, and had no dreams.
Annabelle wanted what Jon had. 
And a week later, she took it. 
Shivering in an alley, clothing ripped to shreds, her own skin hanging off her triple jointed limbs, she dug out a creased and torn business card. She had been worrying at it intensely over the weekend, staring and it and clenching it tightly as if it was her only lifeline. It was, of course. But Jon had known that.
The card looked different now. The text now looked handwritten, but with a beautiful and old-timey slanted handwriting. It now just read: 
‘To Annabelle, with love. From your new friends Gerry, Jon, and Agnes’. There was a number underneath, and Annabelle frantically dug in her tattered leather jacket pocket to draw out her cracked phone. 
Annabelle hated taking favors from people. Everything she had, she had fought for herself. She would scrape, borrow, beg, and steal whatever she had to. But, when it came to siblings...maybe, then, it was okay.
Dizzily, as Annabelle let the phone ring, she thought: this is my supervillain origin story. 
The thought sent a slow smile crawling across her inhuman and warped face. 
Sounds like fun. 
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Uncle Cetus knitting; There is a matching picture, where Morgan is wearing that sweater by the way...
Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (chapter 8 - On The Radio 8/8 ) part 6. Stories of wizards
no warings
           Wool and yarn; Soft threads tied together to keep warm. Self soothing, and expressing creativity. Natural fibers, twirled into textiles that are plush, yet strong. The smell of plastic from the store, that turns into a soft warm sent, as fingers pull it between needles and hooks; As it is transformed into a variety of adornments. Bright as red, or white with dots, thick as rope, or thin like thread; There is no limit to the yarn available to those who seek it. Each loaf, pulled from its inner loop, and wound into balls that seem to always escape, tangle, or go missing. There is always too little, or too much of it around. With a few years practice, a hat can be made in under an hour, with argyle of red and navy, against a confetti white base; Complete with ties and pom-poms. The secret ingredient is time and love; Weaved into something comforting, to be gifted and cherished by someone. A gift of warmth that shows you care.
There is an aesthetic, sensation, smell, and rhythm, in this ancient textile art. Not only calming, but also protective and embellishing. This is why when the couples’ knitting group was over, uncle Cetus kept knitting for the family, while Jupiter kept finding odd amounts of wool in the linen cupboard. While she groaned about the plethora of thread, each autumn, Morgan and the rest of the family, eagerly awaited what Cetus had spent the year crafting for them. Made with love, thought, dedication, and material that costs more then they should. these treasures were meaningful; Because they were made by hand, just for them.
           At the end of the semester, some important paperwork finally got processed and aproved. Magic politics can only function within the common laws of a land; And the law prioritizes children in need of homes, over opinionated wizards. Cetus, after struggling to organize finances after his mother died, finally got guardianship over his sister’s precious son. The problem was that Morgan was bonded to Tiberius Gate, living in an ominous tower. With Emilia. Aunt Jupiter was no quitter; She suggested they move into the tower as well. They already lived in town, and Reginia was going to be sent to magic school anyway. She was to be Morgan’s peer support. Though cousins, they were the same age and like siblings. As magical as Pepperidge was, Cetus and Jupiter were perfectly mundane; Born to magic houses, but unqualified to care for young mages. But they were qualified to provide a supportive and loving family, to two growing youths. Cetus was up to the challenge of helping Morgan overcome his trauma, grow, and be himself.  Mage or not, Morgan deserved to feel safe after everything he went through.
Thus, Cetus became a great aid in Morgan’s recovery. A male role model, as well as an incredible barrier to the corrupt wizard counsel. Morgan, as the mage of Tiberius Gate, was the way of getting to Pepperidge, and its mages. So, if anyone wanted to get rid of mages there, they needed to control Morgan. But now, they also had to threaten the wellbeing a commoner, who had common law on his side. Cetus knew it. No one was getting their fingers in any peanut butter jar, that would mess up his family’s happily ever afters. Every advance made to contain Morgan’s abilities, was being thwarted by an increasingly close pro mage community, in the tiny town of Pepperidge; From the bus driver, to every teacher and student. If he didn’t feel it, Morgan was completely safe.
           After school, mid week, Cetus dropped Morgan off at therapy, and Jupiter would come to pick him up after sessions.
“We have a family meeting, and child welfare check next week. As always, do your best, sport.” Cetus said, ruffling Morgan’s hair. It gave him joy; After almost a year of adoption, and counseling, Cetus could finally touch Morgan without him flinching. Cetus didn’t know what Leo was doing, or if it was even Leo and not life in general; But it was working. He saw Morgan off, before taking Reggie and Emilia home.
“Hey, want to get ice-cream on the boardwalk after dinner?” Emilia said, leaning out the back window. She pulled Morgan over to kiss his check. He nodded, and shyly returned the gesture. Cetus and Reggie tried not to giggle. Morgan slowly walked into the office, checked in, and sat in the depressing psychiatry waiting room.
The fluorescent lights flickered, but at a rate that wasn’t noticeable until there was a migraine. There was the smell of bleach, and old drywall. The receptionist was taking a line of calls, as other families came in, and everyone tried not to look at each other; Because every chair was awkwardly placed facing inward. The walls were mustard, and the chairs plastic. The water cooler bubbled, and the thermostat was set low. Morgan was wearing a forest green, salmon, and black argyle knit sweater, Cetus had made it. Fall had come around, and it was almost his birthday. Morgan reflected on how it had been nine months since his uncle took him in. He loved his uncle. But it wasn’t the same as his mother and father. He hadn’t seen his parent in almost three years.
           Leo came to the front, and h led Morgan to his quiet office, while holding Dolly. The light blue walls, smelled of ambiguous air freshener. There was a stack of papers, bulletin of inspirational posters, bowl of fidget toys, and a Yuka in the back. It had started to become comforting and familiar. Morgan relaxed into the chair, holding Icarus on his lap.
“Never seen you so relaxed,” Leo smiled. He took his seat, causing the office chair to squeak. “What would you like to talk about today?” He started. Morgan sat there, looking around the room. He wasn’t feeling anything in particular at the moment. Nothing was really bothering him. Well, maybe the embarrassment and excitement of getting his girlfriend with child WAY too early, or the stress of balancing the world of fey with homework. Also, the upcoming equinox dance at school, and his birthday. Actually, there was too many things to talk about.
“How about you and Emilia, or Cetus? Your aunt and uncle are getting a review from what I hear.” Leo prompted. He had an agenda. Morgan being relaxed was good, but there is always more work to do. Morgan shrugged, like usual.
“How about what you’re feeling right now? I can bring out the chart if you like.”
“I think I’m sad? Out of all things, today I miss mom and dad a lot. They send me paint, books, and clothes, to help my uncle. Mom still knows exactly what I like. Cetus is super nice, and he’s always there for me; He worked really hard to take me in, even with all the magic politics. I appreciate it. Oh, he actually got pulled into some quests, even though he’s common folk! Now I get to graduate early under professor Hara, researching Griminthropes. Aunt Jupiter wants to do a good job too, so she’s-” Morgan mumbled on.
“Stop there. This isn’t about Cetus’s life; This is about built-up trauma, and missing your parents, in spite of your recent happily ever after,” Leo interrupted. “I’m glad you’re confident enough to talk to me, but every conversation is about a fairy tale, not a feeling. You might need to break your habit of relying on magic, legends, and individuals, to avoid problems. I just want you to have a quality of life, feel loved, and care for your yourself. Without relying only on mystical outings or old books. You have the opportunity to do so, and I encourage you to focus on yourself.” Leo suggested. Morgan was leaning inn, looking mildly confused while he listened. At least he had Morgan’s attention.
“I get so frustrated with your avoidance problem. You walk around with so much pain and suffering; And it keeps you up at night. Yet, instead of processing it, and using your support system, you go to the shadow veil, stay silent, act reckless, and harm yourself. Your gratitude is wonderful, but happily ever afters are meaningless if you desert them. Avoidance is not a log term solution, and I don’t expect immediate change. But you need to start embracing things around you in the moment.” Leo said, fizzling out into a whimper, as he tried to stay professional. Morgan looked at him, unblinking.
“Yes, Leo. That’s what the wagon was for.” Morgan said, nodding his head. Leo gave a look of complete defeat. He already knew that.
“So you’re telling me, it’s more then a scheduled avoidance quest? That now it’s something meaningful; A source of fulfillment as a seer. Thus, Honestly Morgan, do you actually still need the wagon to find friends and joy? I don’t think you need to runaway anymore; Everything you need is right here, if you’ll sit with it.” Leo continued. Morgan liked that perspective; It sounded like enjoying life, without sacrificing his dreams. Morgan smiled a bit. The meaningful stories of each object in that wagon, were tales of is growth. That wagon had helped him. But his new life was doing that too. A simple, worn, faded, treasured wagon. In primary colours, the offend the senses. Something that was purchased at a toy store, to carry children on family outings. It is easy to say what the wagon was for, and what that means now. The wagon helped Morgan runaway, and become an accomplished mage. Now the wagon reminds him of good things he experienced, and is for visiting friends.
“Thanks Leo.” Morgan said. “I’m sorry I accidentally mislead you with the wagon. It’s very distracting.”
“Your most welcome, and forgiven. Oh look! We still have thirty minutes left.” Leo laughed. Morgan groaned. He still had to unpack his relationship with his parents with feeling words, now that the wagon was gone.
TABLE OF CONTENTS--->
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1899-newsboy-strike · 4 years
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The Unexplainable Pt 2 - A Twilight Love Triangle
The Unexplainable Masterlist
A/N: Just a quick disclaimer, if you see this story on Wattpad under the same title, it is not a copy or I’m not trying to copy it, it is my story from over three years ago that I am just rewriting and actually finishing Also rewriting this made me realize I used to never use punctuation for dialogue and always used the word “said” and I also always tried making my characters clairvoyant for some reason. This part also just has so much self projection from younger me
Warnings: bullying
Summary: The back stabber
-------------------------------------
Once you got home you got your things from your car and went straight up to your room. You got your homework done as quick as you could, and started working on your art project. You had to be done by the end of the month, and you wanted to work as much as you could because you wanted it to be perfect. The teacher said that it had to be something from our imagination, and it could be anything you wanted, so you chose a wolf. You didn't know why, but you felt like that's what you needed to draw. You heard Bella's truck pull up in the driveway, and you quickly got up to lock your door. You sat down again continuing to sketch the wolf, when you heard your door knob jiggle followed by a knock on my door.
"Hey Cassie can I come in?" You heard Bella ask from the other side of the door. 
"No Bella, I'm kind of busy with something for school and I can't have any distractions, sorry!" You called out, continuing what you were doing before.
You technically weren’t lying, because you really did want to get a lot of detail into your project, but you also didn’t want to talk to her if she's going to talk about you behind your back, and act like she didn't do anything when you are at home. You were almost done with half of the sketch, and by that time it was already one in the morning, so you decided it was time to go to sleep before you had to go to school. You woke up four hours later, getting lunch ready for school and dressing in whatever you grabbed out of your closet. You grabbed an apple on the way out the door, eating it on your way to school. 
You’d always been the first one there, which you were more than okay with. You usually stayed in your car reading a book, so you didn’t mind not having the chaos of a crowded parking lot. You got out of your car and went to your first class when you heard the bell ring, pulling your attention away from the book in your hand, and you couldn’t help but hope today would be better than yesterday. You couldn't help but notice Bella with her group of friends when you walked by her car. She didn't even give a second glance at you when she saw you, and you felt like you shouldn't have even been there. If your own sister couldn't even accept you in front of people, then maybe you were a mistake.
You walked by the Cullen's and couldn’t help but notice Jasper staring at me with what seemed like pity. You couldn’t help but feel confused, knowing it must have been your imagination. When you were about to look away, you felt a tear run down your cheek and whipped it away quickly, looking down and continuing your walk to class. As usual you sat down in the back and just listened quietly while the teacher was talking about equations you already knew the answers to. You heard laughing and whispering before suddenly there was a paper was thrown on your desk. You unfolded it and it read, 'No one likes you, you freak go kill yourself. You're just a mistake that your parents probably didn't want to make.' As the day went on you got more notes, and your mood just got worse by the time lunch came. You were sitting at the lunch table, picking at your food, thinking about what everyone had been telling you today. You suddenly felt a wave of what felt like happiness or joy wash over you, but just as soon as it came, it was gone. You shook your head to clear the confusion, putting your head in your hands.
Unknowing to you, the Cullens were sat across the cafeteria, their full attention on you. Jasper could feel your emotions the most out of anyone in the cafeteria, and it caught the attention of everyone sitting around him. Rosalie had also taken a liking to you, despite your blue and red eyes, you had reminded her of her younger sister. It had been her idea for Jasper to use his gift on you, but when they saw it backfire, every single one of them was even more confused by you than before.
You couldn't take how you were feeling anymore and shot up out of my seat getting your stuff hurrying toward the trash can throwing your things away, going to my last period of the day, art. You had debated whether or not to skip that period since you had already finished the sketch, and just needed to paint it, but you decided to stay. You let out a sigh when you sat down in your spot, and got out black paint, painting the wolf as realistic as you could. Once the bell rang you had surprisingly finished and handed the finished piece to your teacher, turning in the assignment early. After you were done talking to the teacher you headed home the day never leaving your mind.
***********
It had been almost a week and everything had gotten worse, and you didn't know how much more of this you could take. You’d been dealing with it for too long, and you didn’t have any control over it. You’d been crying yourself to sleep every night, trying to keep quiet so your dad and Bella don't hear and ask questions. You've had depression ever since middle school when everyone started bullying you about your eyes. You wore sunglasses most of the time which was weird because Forks wasn’t sunny, but you thought it was better than people seeing your eyes. 
You let out a sigh, getting up from your bed since you couldn't get any sleep the night before and when you looked in the mirror and your eyes were still puffy from crying so you splashed water on your face hoping that would do something and started heading down to school. Once it was lunch you sat down eating and drawing whatever came to mind. After you were done, you looked at it and got confused. You’d drawn two sets of eyes, one was red and the other was a sort of golden color. You looked down at the picture confused before turning the page, drawing something else. This time it was a picture of someone but you couldn't really tell who it was. 
"So Bella, your sister seems to be getting weirder lately." You heard one of Bella's friends say. You had been fed up with them talking poorly about you, but you were too scared to ever say anything so all you could do was sit and listen. 
"Yeah she just doesn't fit in, she belongs in a circus or something am I right?" Bella joked and that got all her friends laughing. You looked down at your lap feeling the tears start to stream down my face.
Before you could even think about what to do, the bell rang and you headed off to art. Instead of going to art you just sat on the steps outside of school and rested your head on the side of the steps. You silently cried to yourself because you knew the bell would ring soon, and you weren’t going to let anyone see you cry so you hid your face. The stairs were pretty long so you weren't really taking up space, and if you wanted to go home you could just get up and walk to your car since you were right in front of the parking lot. You heard the bell ring and you let out a quiet squeak shaking. You heard footsteps from people walking by and heard various comments. 'Freak' 'Weirdo' 'Mistake' 'Go kill yourself' etc.  
You heard what sounded as if they were walking together not like the bundle of kids earlier. You moved closer to the side of the wall, shaking trying not to let out a sob waiting for whoever was walking to tell you something. You heard some of the footsteps continue but one stopped and stayed. You waited for whoever it was to tell me something but to your surprise they didn't. The person suddenly sat down beside you making you flinch when they put a hand on your back. You looked to your right a little to see who it was, and saw Rosalie. 
"Hey, why are you crying?" Rosalie asked. You just stared at her, not knowing what to say. You just shook your head, looking forward, not wanting to say anything. "Well Y/N, my family and I were wondering if you would like to come home with us because we wanted to talk to you about something." She explained. You thought about it for a while and you guess it wouldn't hurt. 
"I g-guess so" You stuttered out, and as you said that there was a screeching making your head shoot up to see what was going on. 
Your sister was about to be hit by a car and you didn't feel worried one bit. You actually didn't feel anything. You felt numb and you just laid your head on the side of the brick wall closing your eyes. Before you knew it you were in a house you’d never been in before, and were surrounded by the Cullen's. You looked around and the room alone was huge and you couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of it looked like.
"Hey Y/N, you fell asleep and you were coming here with us anyway so we just brought you with us." Rosalie explained, making you look over at her. You nodded and looked around at the Cullen family silently, not being able to find your voice. "What we wanted to tell you will have to wait until my dad gets home from work. Don't worry, I texted your dad and told him that you were going to spend the weekend with us and he was excited that you were making friends, so he said that it was fine and that he'd see you when you got home on Monday." Rosalie continued and you nodded again. 
When Jasper sat down on the couch next to you, you looked up at him. You looked in his eyes and suddenly images flashed before yours. It was of Jasper, but it looked like it was a long time ago. When you saw an image where he had been bit by something you flinched, and suddenly saw that he had red eyes, along with the many people around him. You almost felt crazy, feeling as though you were seeing things. 
"You're not seeing things." Edward explained, popping out of nowhere. You jumped from surprise, looked at him not knowing what he’d meant. 
"What do you mean?" You asked, looking at everyone around the room. 
"Let's sit down Y/N." Carlisle explained when he walked into the room, taking off his coat before sitting across from you. "We’re all vampires, and we may or may not know why your eyes are different colors, and we’re trying to figure that out. I'm looking into it to see what I can find out. Some of us have gifts. Edward can read minds, Jasper can feel and manipulate emotions, and Alice can see the future." Carlisle explained, making you nod in understanding. You couldn’t have helped but think it was cool, and Edward laughed making you glare at him. 
"Don't go through my thoughts or..." You paused for a little thinking. "I'll try to find a way to kill you if you do." You continued, laying back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling closing your eyes. You felt eyes on you, and looked up at everyone staring at you. "What?" You asked. 
"Well you took us being vampires pretty well." Alice explained making you shrug. You laid my head on the side of the couch closing your eyes once again. 
"I'm weird, you're weird. We're all weird here." You explained not being bothered. 
"Come on Y/N, you're sleeping in Emmet and Rosalie's room since that's the only one that really has a bed." You heard someone say making you sigh. 
"But I don't even have any clothes to sleep in." You mumbled tiredly as you started falling asleep on the couch. 
"That's fine, we'll find something, come on." Alice said excitedly. 
"Give me a minute." You mumbled, falling asleep before you could stop yourself.
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Tag List: Let me know if you would like to be tagged in this series
@kettnerjanea @itsalonelygirlinalonelyworld @autumnpauley20 @thot-for-mikehanlon
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everlarkficexchange · 4 years
Text
I Choose You
Written by: @wendywobbles
Prompt 51: Katniss E, the Valedictorian of Panem High school, is perfect in all fields of life. And that is the crush of awkward, average in studies, not so popular, never had a girlfriend, often bullied Peeta M. Not only does she have a very popular friend circle but also a handsome, popular boyfriend Gale H. Will she even want to be his friend? Is his crush doomed to fail? Eventual Everlark) [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds]
AN: I hope I did your prompt proud. The title comes from a Sara Bareilles song that I love.
——————————————-
Peeta Mellark walked quietly in the door and leaned against the wall at the school assembly. He hated these things. Being trapped here for an hour while Principal Trinket droned on and on about what was coming up in the next semester was hell.
They had just returned from their autumn break and Peeta was counting the days down until this last year of school was finished. His experience in Panem 12th Region school had been long, dull and miserable.
Not for the first time he wondered if his dad had lived how his life would have turned out. Would he have been a popular jock with lots of friends and confidence instead of a feeling like a ghost in these hallways? He hoped college would be different. As far as he knew none of the dicks from his year would be attending Capitol U.
He had no idea what Trinket was talking about but he became aware the second the speaker changed……Katniss Everdeen was at the podium and saying hello to everyone. Instantly he paid attention.
Katniss Everdeen was in Peeta Mellark’s eyes the most perfect woman to ever walk the earth. She had long dark hair, clear olive skin and grey eyes.
She was a distance runner for the Panem 12th Region Athletics team. She trained hard , Peeta knew this because he had often seen her running in the early hours of the morning when it was his early shift at the Bakery or sometimes he would see her on the trails when he was out running she always had a smile and wave for him as they passed.
Her grades were always high, again Peeta knew this was down to hard work and not just luck.
Sometimes he would see her at the library when he was hiding out avoiding Cato and the other Jays and his maths whizz brother Leon had been tutoring her since last year.
She has a quiet confidence, and strength that just drew people to her and had a wide circle of friends but would make time for everyone whether it was a quick hello or a longer more in-depth chat. It was no wonder when she ran for student council she was elected president.
With a confident smile the object of Peeta’s affection began to speak
“Hi all! Hope everyone had a wonderful break, I know I did. Principal Trinket has given me a few minutes of the assembly today to talk about our Winter Formal. This year we are looking to do something a bit different and we are hoping that you guys will help us come up with a theme. This is the last 12th Region dance some of us will attend and we would love to make this something a bit special, but right now our ideas aren’t hitting the mark and I know that there are so many talented and creative individuals here so we’d love to hear from you.”
She looked behind her and Annie Cresta, her Vice President, handed her a cardboard box covered in silver paper. She held it up for all to see
“Okay, I know this probably looks a bit basic but this box will be left in library until next Friday. If you have an idea put it in. We will then post the suggestions online and then we can vote for our favourite. Easy right? I can’t wait to see what people come up with.”
“Thanks for listening and don’t forget Friday is the big Game against D13’s Coin Cavaliers and once again the 12th Region’s very own Mockingjays are out to destroy them. Show you school spirit by wearing black and orange. Go Jays!”
All around Peeta students began to cheer, he just rolled his eyes and slipped quietly away.
*********
For the rest of the day school was buzzing with excitement for the game and Katniss announcement. Peeta was glad when his final class was over and headed to his locker to collect his bag.
“Hey Bread Boy” called Johanna Mason, a short shaved head girl that somehow had become one of Peeta’s closest and dearest friends
“Yes Jo?”
“So are you making any suggestions for the Winter Formal? I’ve got mine in – Roller Disco with night vision goggles. Great, huh?”
“Seriously Jo? I mean while I can certainly appreciate the theme, how exactly would a person fund all those glasses……” he smiled.
“I’m the ideas woman, the reality is her ladyship and her minions area of work…speaking of which. Anyway I gotta go, see you later handsome “ and with that Jo sprinted away.
Peeta looked up and saw Katniss Everdeen walking down the corridor. She was carrying an armful of books, a bag and a bottle of water, had an apple wedged in her mouth and her shoe lace was beginning to open on her ever present black Cons. Peeta was thinking how this looked like an accident waiting to happen when Katniss reached up to take the apple out of her mouth, stepped on her now undone shoe lace and tripped herself up sending everything flying.
“Katniss! Oh my god are you okay?” Peeta was by her side in a flash and quickly helped her right herself.
Surprisingly she burst out laughing “Oh my god! I can’t believe that just happened. Thanks Peeta, I’m ok.” He started to help her pick up her stuff when Gale Hawthorne appeared.
“Katniss? What happened? You ok?” concern was all over his features.
“Fine, fine I tripped Peeta was just helping me collect my stuff.”
Gale nodded but proceeded to take the books Peeta had in his arms “Well I’m here now. Mellark you can …go do whatever it is you do. I got this.”
Peeta felt his face flame but kept his mouth shut previous experience had thought him that answering back to people like Gale usually ended up badly for people like Peeta.
“Sure. Whatever” he mumbled and moved to step away.
Katniss meanwhile shot Gale a glance that would have felled a lesser man, but Peeta imagined as Katniss’ boyfriend Gale was probably used to her looks so he just ignored her.(Imagine being able to ignore Katniss thought Peeta)
“Thanks again Peeta. Hey before you go, do you have the details of the English assignment? I can’t find where I wrote it down.”
“Sure, hold on” Peeta rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a notebook. He pulled out a sheet and copied the details onto the paper for her.
“Ummm here you go” he said handing it over.
“Katniss? Are you ready I’ll carry this stuff to your car” huffed Gale.
“Go ahead I’ll be right there. I just want to check something with Peeta” She called without looking at Gale.
“I’ll wait.”
“Dunderhead” muttered Katniss under her breath so that only Peeta could hear her, keeping her voice low she began to speak “Um I was wondering if you were going to submit any ideas for the dance. When we were kids I remember you always had a great imagination.”
Peeta blinked and stared and Katniss “Um no. I don’t….I mean I’m not interested in that kinda thing you know. I’ve never even been to a school dance.”
“Oh…right. Sorry I just, I guess I’ll see you in class or something.” Katniss seemed embarrassed and Peeta wanted to die. This was how he spoke to the girl of his dreams….Leon was right he was an idiot.
As she turned to walk away he called after her “Wait! I may not have an idea but um I’m pretty good at art and design maybe,I mean if you needed it, I could help you guys work on pulling it altogether?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“That would be fantastic! I know you’re headed to Capitol U next year to begin a Fine Art Degree so absolutely we would love your help.” Katniss smile was a mile wide as she said all this.
“Ok. Well keep me posted. Oh and Katniss you should probably tie your shoelace” Peeta smiled and her and began to walk away. It was only as he turned the corner he realised something. He had never mentioned getting into Capitol U …how had Katniss known that?
********
“So what did you need from Mellark?” asked Gale.
“Gale you were standing right there when I was talking to him - English homework and he’s offered to help with the dance.” said Katniss taking her bag from Gale. She reached down to grab the apple that she dropped and popped it in a bin as she walked by.
“Help how? Loser never goes to anything school related.”
“So? What has that got to do with anything? And he’s not a loser. Look Gale we need help with this dance and I’m happy to have someone like Peeta come on board-“
Gale cut her off “ Ooh I get it now, you get the nerdy runt to do all the work and you take the credit.”
“Shut up Gale. When have I EVER treated anyone like that? I can’t believe you would even think I would do that.”
“Oh relax, it’s High School not the real world.”
Sometimes Katniss goody two shoes attitude really annoyed Gale. Kill or be killed that was Gale’s motto(not literally of course) but sometimes you had to be ruthless on and off the field.
“Let me make it up too you… how about a movie?”
“Can’t I have to get home to help dad. I’ll round up the gang maybe we can all go see something on Saturday?”
Frustrated Gale rolled his eyes before responding “Katniss I meant …..”
Katniss knew exactly what he meant and after going out a few times two years ago, Katniss wasn’t going down that road again, Gale however still thought they were perfect for each other and was always trying to get her to agree to a date.
Katniss blundered on pretending not to have heard him “It’ll be a fun way for everyone to relax after Friday’s game. I’ll text everyone later unless you want to do it?”
Gale clenched his jaw frustrated at Katniss he wanted to say something more when his phone rang. It was Cato.
“I’m late for practice. Talk to you later” and Gale took off running towards the sports field.
A grateful Katniss watched Gale sprint away, glad of the reprieve from his hints and outright declarations that they would make the perfect couple.
She hopped into her car and got ready to head home, when out of the corner of her eye she saw the hunched figure of Peeta Mellark walking out and heading towards town, she watched him til he was out of sight.
There was something about Peeta that made Katniss want to get to know him better but the blue eyed blond boy kept himself to himself. She had has crush on him since the first day of school when he drew her a picture of her teddy bear.
She smiled recalling how upset she was being separated from her bear and was missing him something terrible on her first day. Seeing her tears Peeta had marched up to her pencil in hand and asked her what he looked like and under her guidance had drawn a pretty good depiction of Snowball Abernathy.
Katniss still had the drawing; her dad had laminated it years go and she used it as book mark. The bear was also still knocking around, slightly bedraggled, more grey then white these day but still loved.
She sighed remembering a time when they were younger and Peeta was much more open. It all changed when his dad died though he seemed to retreat from childhood.
********
Katniss knew from Peeta’s older brother Leon that it hadn’t been easy after Mr M had died.
She had met Leon when her parents hired him to help her with her maths. Leon was like a skinnier less good looking Peeta. He was in college locally hoping to be a teacher and he loved maths and tutored a few kids.
As Katniss and he worked together they became more friendly.He was kind and funny and talkative.
When Katniss got accepted to Capitol U to study Engineering she was overjoyed and then Leon told her Peeta had been accepted to CU too.
“That’s amazing! What program? I wonder if we’ll run into each other. That would be cool.” Katniss gushed. She was practically vibrating at this piece of news.
And had completely forgotten who she was talking too. She couldn’t stop the blush that crept up her face.
Leon felt a grin spreading over his face “Careful Everdeen or I might think you have a crush on my baby brother……oh my god you do!!!”
That was a few weeks ago and Leon kept encouraging her to talk to Peeta and teasing her that if she let the year pass without saying anything he would tell Peeta before graduation.
Katniss knew though her secret was safe. Leon was very protective of Peeta, and from what Leon had told her-and what she knew from the past herself and gossip- the death of Mr Mellark had hit the whole family hard.
The oldest Mellark brother Sean had taken over running the place full time (this had always been the plan but the death of Sean Snr meant things moved a lot quicker). He quit full time college and moved home.
Leon and Peeta helped out but right after her husband died Mrs Mellark seemed to “disappear” leaving Sean 20, Leon 16 and Peeta 13 to carry on.
The older boys tried to stay on top of everything.- the house, the business, school even dealing with their mom- but their home life was chaotic following in the weeks following their fathers death.
It was a lot to cope with, and they tried to do it all without any help - scared that if they let people know what was going on their family would be further torn apart.
Katniss remembered when Peeta came to school in the same hoodie for 5 days –not really a big deal but Cato Snow grabbed this and began to tease Peeta.
“Hey Smellark. Don’t you have any CLEAN clothes?”
His goons soon joined in for weeks whenever they could get Peeta alone they went at him, they pushed him, squirted hand sanitizer on him, threw water on him.
Some of the other kids tried to tell Cato to stop but no one wanted to make themselves a target so most just ignored what was going on. Katniss did too, and the memory still pained her.
It all came to a head one Monday afternoon Peeta finally snapped and swung at Cato. Peeta may have been quiet and smaller then the others but in the past number of weeks a fire had raged in him.
This particular Monday Cato had decided that Peeta needed a hair cut and got Tom Marvel and Derek Blight to hold him down and started to hack at Peeta’s hair.
It was the final straw for Peeta, to this day no one knows exactly how he did it but Peeta got loose and punched Cato busting his nose, the sight of the blood caused Marvel to flee. Blight wasn’t quick enough and Peeta managed to leave him with a black eye. Peeta picked up his bag and left the school vowing to never return.
While this was going on, an anonymous tip off was left with a children’s care charity begging them to check on the Mellark’s. A young case worker Finnick Odair took the call and hearing how distressed the girl in the end of the call was decided to make a house call.
He met a shaken, tattered Peeta at the house on the front step.
“Hey kid? You ok?”
And for the first time since his dad died and the bullying began Peeta cried and his story just tumbled out
Finnick met with the rest of the family. Mrs. Mellark was very obviously depressed, the boys were grieving but had no time to process everything that was happening as they desperately tried to keep things going. A decision was made to contact Mrs Mellark mother, Sae.
She arrived in a day and scolded her grandsons for not calling her sooner and hugged the life out of them.
She sought out her daughter and held her close as she wept and wept.
Then the five of them sat on the sofa together and Sae told Finnick she was sticking around for as long as was needed and he helped her to find the help her family needed.
Peeta however refused to talk about what had happened and wouldn’t confirm the bullying. He hoped by keeping his mouth shut Cato would leave him alone. (It hadn’t. Although Cato no longer actively sought him out he still tormented him)
When Peeta returned to school a few days later people seemed to give him a wide berth the story of his Hulk like anger had scared people. It made him sad.
When he went to his locker he found a bag there and inside was a paper dandelion, a packet of coloring pencils and notebook.
Peeta was confused and wary but the yellow flower was the first thing he remembered seeing in color; since his dad died life had just been grey. He smiled, just a small one but somehow this flower made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time -hope.
********
On Friday the school was buzzing. Peeta had on a black tee shirt and orange cons showing his school spirit.
He had noticed Katniss that morning in her black skinny jeans, a Jays orange jersey, black oversized cardigan, in her braided hair there was an orange ribbon and on her feet a pair of orange cons. He smiled when he saw them.
He was just slipping to class when she called him
“Hey Peeta! Look we’re foot twins.” She bounded over to him and stood toe to toe with him. His heart was pounding.
She pulled out her phone “Can I take a picture?” and she aimed her camera down before clicking a few snaps.
“I think yours look better” she smiled and looked up at him, suddenly aware how close she was to him.
“I’m sorry Peeta I’m such and space invader” she stepped back “like I was saying yours look better, they have that lived in Cons look, mine are brand new they need breaking in. I’m gonna put this on Instagram, want me to tag you?”
“Why? Why would you tag me? I mean we’re not exactly friends, besides I don’t think Gale or his friends would appreciate any part of me appearing on your feed. I have to go Katniss.” Peeta smiled sadly and walked away.
Katniss couldn’t understand what she had said or done but she quickly deleted the post.
********
When the dance committee opened the silver box they found a good deal of papers, half though were filled with utter rubbish- crude drawing, bits of gum wrapped in the paper and some downright dangerous suggestions -roller skating with night vision goggles???
The most surprising thing was that even though the students had been given free reign most were standard dance ideas. According to Delly Cartwright this was because despite claims to want to express themselves and be individuals most teenagers just wanted to blend in and follow the herd, and in the end there were only five familiar themes to choose from.
1. Winter Wonderland/Snow Ball /Yule Ball
2. Once Upon a Time(Fairytales and stories)
3. Enchanted Forest or Magical Garden
4. Candy land
5. Masquerade Ball
Students were just handed a ballot paper and asked to vote for their favourite and with the result revealed at the following weeks assembly.
The winning theme in the end was the Enchanted Forest, and Katniss was secretly thrilled. Now the theme was picked it was time for the hard work to begin, and time to see if Peeta was ready to join the dance committee.
********
Peeta and Jo were sitting on one of the benches outside the school when Katniss walked over.
“Hey” she called
Peeta waved, Jo gave a nod.
“Peeta, if that offer to help out with the dance is still on the table the dance committee is meeting tomorrow after school to get things moving. I was wondering if you’d like to come along and get an idea of budget, how we can pull off the theme and if we can actually make something out of nothing” Katniss joked.
“I don’t know Katniss-“ but before he could finish Jo interrupted
“He’ll be there. What time and can I help too? My dad owns the forest out past Turn 4. He might be able to help with some stuff for decoration.”
“Ok, well we be in Room 17 from about 4 pm and Jo it would be great to have more help. I’ll leave you guys to it then. Bye”
As she walked away she missed the glare Peeta threw at Jo and the grin that spread across her face.
“What? You have been crazy about her for years. Now’s you chance to woo her” grinned Jo
“She has a scary boyfriend or did you forget that? A boyfriend who has no issue with beating a guy like me and might I add he has the connections to dispose of me where no one can find me.” He muttered darkly
“I dunno I know what people say but, I don’t think they are a couple….. anyway never mind that it’ll be at least one fun memory we’ll have of going to this place before we head to Capitol.”
********
Over the next few weeks Peeta’s life and routine took on a different one. The initial meeting of the dance committee had been nerve wracking but the other members, along with Katniss made him and Jo feel very welcome.
Peeta was wary at first but there was no punchline, he wasn’t a joke to anyone and surprisingly he started to enjoy the meetings.
The other members Annie Cresta, Thom Dalton, Brian Turner or Beetee as he was known, Delly Cartwright and Cecelia Hubert were a mixed but fun group.
“Hey Peeta, can you take a look at this?” Katniss called
“What’s up?” he asked.
“This…. I think I did it wrong…..it looks..” they two of them tilted their heads looking at the mess in front of them Katniss was supposed to be making centre pieces from twigs adorned with lights, and flowers.
“I think you’ve glued things on upside down, it’s okay we’ll fix it” he tried not to laugh. Katniss was the least crafty person he had ever met.
“I like the arch way, you’ve made it look really spectacular, it will make the entrance look so special. You have really helped us to set the theme, you and Jo.”
“Well you know us art nerds” Peeta mumbled as he undid some of Katniss handiwork.
“I don’t….but I’d like too” Katniss whispered in a low voice.
Peeta didn’t dare to look at her but kept going with what he was doing. He wasn’t sure what to say. He took a deep breath and prepared to ask her what she meant when suddenly the door burst open and there stood Gale, Cato and the other Jays players.
Gale was wearing what looked like doctors scrubs while the others were dressed in tacky sexy nurse outfits that no nurse in their right mind could wear and work in.
“Hey Katniss”
Peeta would swear he felt Katniss stiffen beside him, then she took a deep breath and turned to look(along with the rest of the room)
Gale unravelled his sign which said “I’m no doctor but it appears you’re suffering from DATELESSNESS. My suggestion is…..” meanwhile the rest held up signs that read “A date with Gale?” And “What more could you want?” And “A dose of Vitamin G!”
“No!” she shouted and the laughter and shouts of the Jays stopped.
“Just no! I told you this last night, the night before. You NEVER listen to me? I don’t want to date you or even go to the dance with you. I’ve tried being polite but it’s gotten me no where, please leave me alone and stop this. I’m not your girlfriend. I don’t want to be. Just stop”
“You selfish b-“ Gale started towards Katniss but Peeta stepped in front of her.
“I wouldn’t take another step or utter another word Hawthorne. Just take your guys and go. Or would you like me to call Miss Trinket?” Peeta’s voice was low and calm. Thom and Beetee had stood up too and walked towards Katniss and Peeta.
“Or what Smellark?” spat Gale.
“Funny, real funny but I think after 4 years you guys could have gotten a bit more creative with your insults. Cato, why don’t you take Gale and the guys and leave. Katniss has refused Gale’s offer, there is nothing else to be said.”
In the crowd of guys a few looked angry but others just looked confused about what had gone on. Had Gale really been hassling Katniss? He made it sound like she had wanted this big fuss but what if she hadn’t? The team started to move away and soon the room was cleared.
“Umm thanks guys…now where were we?”
“Hey Everdeen, I thought that guy was your boyfriend?” asked Jo confused by what had happened.
“Nope. Never was, never will be. He’s never been my type” Katniss smiled
“Interesting…..and would you type maybe be a little less male perhaps?” teased Jo much to the amusement of the others
“Sorry Jo, I’m not into girls, but I do know that Delly happens to think you are real cute.” And with a shocked squeak from Delly the whole committee burst into giggles.
Once everyone had settled down Katniss walked over to Peeta.
“Hey Peeta? Thanks for what you did for me with Gale. I don’t know why he has to act like that you know?”
“Katniss it’s ok really. I’ll walk you to your car after we’re done here if you want? In case he’s still around.”
“Thanks, but I should be ok. Right I better get these to Annie.” She nodded her head at the closed box in her hands that she had picked up from somewhere.
“What’s in it?
“Flowers! I may not be much good at making centerpieces but if you need a paper flower I’m your girl” she grinned as she said this “open the box and have a look.”
Peeta’s stomach dropped when he opened the box there were daisies, roses and right at the top yellow dandelions like the one given to him all those years ago.
“Peeta? Are you ok?” a worried Katniss asked.
“Yeah. Sorry just zoned out. These are really pretty. I better get back to the trees.”
Peeta worked quietly for rest of the hour to trying to figure out why Katniss had given him the flower all those years ago and the pencils and notebook which became his companions. In the notebook he drew his fears, his hopes covering every page and when it was full his mom bought him a new one. Even now he always had a notebook in his bag.
“Peeta? Can I give you a lift home?” asked Katniss Peeta startled at her voice he looked around and was slightly shocked to see they were the last people there. He hadn’t heard the others leave.
“Ok.” He shrugged and gathered up his stuff.
“Katniss? Can I ask you something?” Peeta was nervous but he needed to know why she did what she did.
“Sure.” She nodded
“After…. the Cato incident there was a paper flower and art stuff left in my locker. Did you do that?”
He watched her hands tighten around the steering wheel and she took a deep breath before she answered.
“Yes. I just wanted to give you something nice you know. Those guys were so mean and the rest of us should’ve done more, told the teachers. I watched you almost disappear and I hated that the light in your eyes dimmed so much. Your family was going through so much.”
“You were just a kid Katniss,it’s ok. Really. We got help. As a family we’ve survived. What else could you have done?” He reached over and put his hand on hers, it was awkward in the car but he wanted -no needed- her to know that he was ok.
“Your flower gave me hope, gave my life some color at a time when I had none. Thank you for seeing me, at a time when I felt no one did.”
“I always saw you Peeta.” She was looking at him now Peeta wanted to look away her gaze was almost too intense.
“You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You are the noisiest walker I have ever heard. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.”
“I know these things because I’ve always watched you and yes I know that’s crazy and I sound like a stalker but I need you to know this because we’re going away to college soon and I would like to at least be your friend but what I really want is to know you better and Leon knows and he told me that if I didn’t tell you I liked you he would.”
“Slow down… what?”
“I like you. A lot. Your stupid brother found out and has been teasing me. He said he would tell you before I could especially since we’re going to be at the same college next year. If you just want a friend that’s fine but I would really like to go on a date so you could get to know me…. and then…..well who knows….”
“Okay.”
“Okay like let’s go on a date or like I’m going to get out of car and run away?”
“The first one.”
**********
And so they had their first date 2 nights later.
And their first kiss that night too.
Peeta asked Katniss to be his girlfriend on their third date.
They went to their dance together and danced under the canopy of trees and flowers they had helped create.
They had their first fight when Peeta struggled to understand what a girl like Katniss saw in him. He questioned why? He kept expecting things to fall apart and doubted what they had was real.
Eventually his mom took him aside and told him that his problems were bigger then him and a professional would be better placed to help him.
“You deserve happiness Peeta,let us help you find it.”
He started seeing Dr Aurelius with Katniss, his family and friends supporting him every step of the way.
He told Katniss he loved her one evening when they were in her parent’s house. They were watching a stupid movie and she was laughing. He watched her eyes crinkle, her chuckles ringing in the air as she sat there in a panda onesie and he blurted it out.
She smiled at him and throwing her arms around his neck she told him the same, placing tiny kisses all over his face.
And then they graduated. The one person who didn’t was Cato Snow who was expelled following a positive drug test and several reports of bullying.
Gale never spoke to Katniss again.
A few of the Mockingjays team had apologized for their part in the dance proposal telling Katniss they had believed Gale when he told them that it was her idea.
Neither wanted to go to the end of year dance, instead they went with some of their friends to a small cabin by a lake and had a quiet celebration.
And later, in the quiet of the night after they had spent time having their own private celebration. Katniss sang to Peeta
Let the bough break, let it come down crashing
Let the sun fade out to a dark sky
I can’t say I’d even notice it was absent
‘Cause I could live by the light in your eyes
I’ll unfold before you
Would have strung together
The very first words of a lifelong love letter
Tell the world that we finally got it all right
I choose you
I will become yours and you will become mine
I choose you
I choose you, yeah
There was a time when I would have believed them
If they told me that you could not come true
Just love’s illusion
But then you found me
And everything changed
And I believe in something again
My whole heart
Will be yours forever
This is a beautiful start
To a lifelong love letter
Tell the world that we finally got it all right
I choose You
I will become yours and you will become mine
I choose You
I choose You
We are not perfect we’ll learn from our mistakes
And as long as it takes I will prove my love to you
I am not scared of the elements I am underprepared,
But I am willing
And even better
I get to be the other half of you
Tell the world that we finally got it all right
I choose You, yeah
I will become yours and you will become mine
I choose You
I choose You
I choose You
She had just finished and Peeta was about to say something when Johanna shouted.
“Seriously?? It was bad enough listening to you two screwing each other senseless now I have to hear you sing?! Keep this up and you’ll have to find a new roommate!”
After their laughter subsided Peeta turned to Katniss and whispering quietly he said.
“I choose you too. Always.”
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thebladeblaster · 3 years
Text
Digimon Tamer ZERO
(Vanguard x Digimon crossover. I am still having a hard time writing so I thought I would post this that has been in my notes for like months. I didn’t really know how interested people would be in this fic idea so here’s a concept chapter like the one I made for Bonds Beyond Dimensions.)
Concept Chapter The Digimon Phenomenon part 1
A few days after the Link Joker incident...
Inside of Card Capital a familiar light purple haired girl sat behind the counter reading a book. She wore a white dress shirt and a red apron. A little black and white cat slept soundly on the counter. There wasn’t quite as many customers in as usual. The girl lifted up her book revealing her blue eyes as she heard someone walk over. It was a blond teen with grey eyes and a white and red hoodie.
“Slow day huh?”, the blond teen questioned putting his elbows on the counter and leaning in.
The girl sighed in response.
“Well, business has gotten a bit slower lately because of the release of that new digital pet line, Digimon. Many kids have been playing those rather than playing card games.”, the girl replied before sighing again.
“While, that is a bit sad I have a feeling that’s not the thing really bothering you.”, the blond surmised which caused the girl to sigh again.
“Well, I guess there’s no point in trying to hide it from you’ll just keep asking until I tell you, Miwa.”, the girl replied sighing again.
“That’s what friends are for so what’s really wrong, Misaki?”, Miwa asked.
Misaki’s gaze seemed to linger over to the door as she started speaking.
“It’s Aichi.”, Misaki answered.
“I thought so he has seemed a bit distant lately...”, Miwa trailed off.
“I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of everything that happened with Link Joker. He was fine at first but well three days ago he started acting a bit weird. He seems to be a bit spacey, he’s been avoiding cardfights and...even us.”, Misaki elaborated.
“Maybe he just needs some space. To be fair this isn’t the first time he’s been a bit moody.”, Miwa assured.
“The last times he was like this were after he found out about Kai joining Link Joker and...before...”, Misaki trailed off looking down with a bit of a nervous sweat.
The two suddenly turned there heads to the door as it slid open and gasped in surprise.
A man with green hair and grey eyes wearing glasses walked backwards in holding a cardboard box that seemed packed to the point it was close to bursting.
“Look who I found!”, the man said.
Saying that they almost expected Kai to walk in after him. However instead they saw there was another person helping the green haired man with the box. It was a blue haired teen with blue eyes. He was wearing a white jacket with a black trim and a light purple under. He also wore blue jeans and black shoes.
“Aichi?”, Misaki questioned genuinely shocked to see him.
Aichi looked over towards Misaki and Miwa.
“Oh h-hey.”, he greeted a bit awkwardly.
“That box looks pretty heavy. Have you been working out a bit?”, Miwa questioned.
“Not really Shin’s is carrying most of it.”, Aichi replied.
“I think you might be selling yourself short here.”, Shin replied as they noticed the way the box was tipped.
Shin who was walking backwards and holding it in the front had the box tilted downwards. While Aichi in the back had the box tilted upwards.
“I didn’t notice it felt so light I thought you were carrying most of the weight.”, Aichi replied with a bashful chuckle sweat dropping.
The two set the box down on the table as Shin sighed tiredly.
“Thank god I ran into you I don’t think I could have carried it alone.”, Shin thanked.
“Aichi um...”, Misaki trailed off as Aichi returned his attention to her flinching a bit.
“I uh...”, Aichi trailed off as the two shared a bit of a awkward silence.
Aichi sweated nervously as he turned his gaze over to the box.
“So, what is in the box anyway?”, Aichi asked changing the subject.
Miwa sweat dropped looking at Aichi a bit worriedly.
“Something must have happened.”, Miwa thought.
The three looked down at the box as Shin opened the it revealing a bunch of differently colored square objects with a little screen.
“You know...I think I’ve seen these things around before...Aren’t they called Digimon? Emi told me it was getting rather popular at her school.”, Aichi said.
“Yep! I was thinking since this new Digimon thing has been getting so popular this would be the perfect time to capitalize on it. Though it’s a bit different from our usual products Digimon is a game not to mention I heard they may make a card game soon.”, Shin said as he held up one pointing to the device.
“You see these are Digimon V Pets. This model is called ZERO. Digimon is short for digital monsters. Their a bit similar to tomagatchi in the way you raise a digital pet and that pet is your partner Digimon. With these you can evolve them and battle with your friends. It can even allow you to battle online.”, Shin explained.
“Oh cool, they sell Digimon here now!”, A kid said as a few walked up.
“See we have more customers already.”, Shin said as he looked towards Misaki.
“Oh...uh...”, Misaki trailed off as she looked towards Aichi then the group of kids before going to work.
Aichi, Shin, and Miwa looked on as Misaki served the kids. Aichi was bit caught off guard as Shin placed something in his hand.
“What?”, Aichi questioned looking down as he it was a blue V-pet.
“I was thinking it might be nice to give you a little digital pet of your own. Think of it as thanks for helping me out.”, Shin explained.
“You don’t need to do that. Besides I don’t even know how to work this thing.”, Aichi replied sweat dropping.
“Then, I’ll show you!”, Shin offered.
Miwa smiled as Shin showed Aichi how to work the device.
“He can tell too can’t he?”, Miwa thought.
“So, this is the Digimon, Choromon?”, Aichi questioned.
“Yeah, right now it’s at its baby stage. After that there’s in training, rookie, champion, ultimate, and mega. There’s countless Digimon who start out as a Choromon it could become almost anything depending on how you raise it. You could say it holds infinite potential.”, Shin explained.
Aichi looked at the little unassuming little pixel blob Digimon.
Shin pulled out a folded peace of paper which revealed what looked like over 100 branching possibles.
“T-this is a bit much...”, Aichi said as he and Miwa sweat dropped looking at the paper.
“Well, it can be made a lot easier if you know which Digimon your looking to obtain. The final forms are on the right side of the page. On this ultimate guide I gave it even has a profile on the Digimon to make the choice easier.”, Shin explained as he placed it on the table for him to look over.
Aichi sat down at the table as he started to read over some of the descriptions before he stopped on one.
“You seem interested in that one. Well, it is a knight after all like your Gold Paladins.”, Shin said.
“Yeah. I think I’ll go for this one.”, Aichi replied as he pointed at it.
He read over the steps required to achieve the Digimon a few times before just taking a picture with his phone.
“That definitely will make it a lot easier than remembering all that stuff.”, Miwa said.
Then Aichi’s phone rang.
“Oh it’s Emi...wait I forgot I’m supposed to help her with her homework today! Uh thanks Shin! Bye guys! See you later!”, Aichi said with a bit of urgency as he remembered how mad Emi was the last time he forgot to help her.
“See ya bud! You should stop by more so Misaki doesn’t look so mopey.”, Miwa said as he waved goodbye.
Aichi waved goodbye as he rushed out of the store.
“Mopey huh?”, Misaki said as Miwa jumped turning to her looking at him menacingly.
Later...
“I’m here.”, Aichi said as he walked into Emi’s room.
Inside the room sat a girl with orange hair and blue eyes. She wore a pink shirt and a skirt.
“Aichi you forgot.”, Emi said pouting.
“I’m sorry I ran into Shin and he needed my help. It just kinda slipped my mind.”, Aichi apologized.
“Oh, the shop manager. Wait...did you talk to Misaki?”, Emi asked.
Aichi raised his eyebrow at the question as he sat down next to his sister.
“No. Why?”, Aichi questioned.
“Ah...it’s nothing anyway...”, Emi trailed off as she noticed Aichi’s V pet.
“Oh, Shin gave this to me for helping him out.”, Aichi explained as he pulled out the V pet.
“So, does that mean Card Capital are going to sell Digimon now too?”, Emi asked.
“Yeah, Shin had a whole box of these. The moment we brought it out a bunch of kids already lined up to buy them.”, Aichi replied.
“Maybe, I’ll go buy one when I get my allowance.”, Emi replied.
Later...
After finishing up helping out his sister Aichi went to his room and sat down in his chair. He placed the V pet over on the desk before pulling out a deck box. He took out the cards and laid them out looking over each one of them carefully. He narrowed his eyes as they landed on one card in particular into a bit of glare. The card art depicted a white cybernetic dragon with red glowing lines. The dragon had a black visor and menacing jagged red glowing eyes. It had gold spikes on its back. It’s name was Star-Vader, Imaginary Plane Dragon.
Aichi put down the card and had a relived sigh. Aichi put the cards back into the deck box.
“Good thing there isn’t any more of these. If I avoid cardfighting I will have some time to think of some way to get rid of it. I don’t know how though since simply beating it isn’t enough.”, Aichi thought.
“That’s the point. You can’t get rid of Link Joker. We will return and destroy this world.”, a distorted voice said.
“I’ll find a way!”, Aichi thought as he then turned his attention over to the V pet it seemed his Digimon was had pooped a bit.
“That’s what they all said before we took everything they held dear.”, the distorted voice replied.
Aichi grabbed the device and cleaned up after the Digimon.
“Well, at least this Digimon will be a good distraction until I can think of a plan.”, Aichi thought.
“Oh, ho so you want to ignore me? You know if you ignore your problems for too long you never know they may consume you. Oh wait...that’s already happening. I wonder how long you intend to avoid your friends. You know those fools will eventually get fed up and try to find out what’s going on with you whether you like it or not. Who knows if you’ll even still be yourself by then...”, the distorted voice said.
Aichi said nothing but the voice could tell it was frustrating him. It it had a form it would have a shit eating grin.
“Well, you can play the silent game all you want. I can’t wait to see when you inevitably explode.”, the distorted voice said.
“Okay...So, the Digimon is alright now I should at least wait till it’s grown up a bit more before leaving primary village. Especially since all the encounters seem completely random though the chances are low for all I know I could run into a mega. Apparently, the best way to level them is through battling other people’s Digimon or wild Digimon.”, Aichi thought as he continued to take care of the baby Digimon and ignoring the voice.
Two weeks later...
Four teens were walking around to the city as they talked.
“Ah! No!!! Sukamon again!”, a teen with spiky black hair and brown eyes cried holding a purple V pet.
“That’s what happens when you keep forgetting to clean up after your Digimon.”, a teen with brown hair and brown eyes said.
They both had blue blazers and pants.
“Maybe this is a sign Izaki maybe me and Sukamon are connected by destiny!”, the black haired teen replied.
“Morikawa, so your saying your destined partner is a poop monster?”, Izaki questioned.
“I’m saying maybe it’s actually the strongest and that’s why it has chosen me! Maybe this is the Digimon that will allow me to defeat The Blaster!”, Morikawa replied.
“The Blaster?”, Miwa questioned wearing a blue blazer like the others but with a red hoodie underneath.
“Have you not heard of him Miwa? Some people say very soon he’ll be the number 1 tamer. They suddenly appeared out of nowhere and started beating a lot of upper tier tamers. Their partner is Knightmon last time I heard, but for all we know it could have became a mega by now.”, Izaki explained.
Miwa’s eyes widened as he heard the name of The Blaster’s partner.
“Is something wrong?”, Izaki questioned.
“It’s nothing.”, Miwa said with coy smile.
“Ah! Do you know who The Blaster is Miwa?”, Izaki questioned.
“Maybe.”, Miwa replied coyly.
“Is it you?!”, Morikawa asked gazing at the blond fiercely.
“No no see.”, Miwa said as he revealed a yellow V pet and showed them his partner.
“Woah, you have a ultimate Miwa?! It looks pretty cool.”, Izaki gasped.
“This is Groundramon and yeah he’s pretty cool.”, Miwa replied.
“What!? How did you get one of those?!”, Morikawa questioned.
“I read the guide you should try it sometime.”, Miwa replied.
“There’s a guide!?”, Morikawa gasped.
Miwa and Izaki sweat dropped.
“You didn’t know that?”, Izaki asked.
“No!”, Morikawa replied with comedic tears.
“What about your partner Izaki?”, Miwa asked.
“Oh, mines Tyrannomon.”, Izaki answered as he held up a green V pet.
“What about you Kai? Are you gonna get a Digimon?”, Miwa asked the fourth member of their group who had been silent up till now.
Kai had spiky brown hair and green eyes. He also wore a blue blazer like the others.
“Hmph...I’m not interested in a pet.”, Kai replied looking away.
“Well, you know Kai there’s something I didn’t mention Aichi has a Digimon.”, Miwa replied with a smile.
Kai then turned his attention to Miwa at the mention of the blue haired teen.
“Oh, really I didn’t think he’d be that interested.”, Izaki said.
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tiannas-ocs · 4 years
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𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀
masterlist
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Flora Molina kept repeating the same words to herself over and over as she dragged her trembling body to her closet. This is all your fault. This is all your fault. This is all your fault.
She pushed aside her clothes to reveal a painting that she made a year ago. A painting that predicted an event that had yet to take place at the time. A painting that she swore not to show anyone to not seem like a crazy person.
With shaking hands, she brought the painting over to her bed and sat down, crying over the image of her mother’s lifeless body. I should have told someone. I could have stopped it from happening.
This is all my fault.
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Flora hasn’t been the same since the day her mother died. That dreadful painting haunting her from the depths of her closet. She had convinced herself that if she had just told someone, her mother would still be alive. But because she had kept it a secret, she’s forced to carry this burden all by herself.
She used to show her family her paintings, never explaining to them how they were actually visions of the future. Now she just hides them away. Barely glancing at them before tucking them away in the corner of her room, facing the wall so she doesn’t have to witness the effects of her curse.
She thought today would be no different. Flo was currently sketching in her notebook, eyes glazed over as she focused on nothing in particular.
With the exception of that one night a year ago, most of her art consisted of predictions of the most mundane things. The weather, what her dad was making for dinner (although that was already pretty predictable), the pop quizzes her teachers plan.
So, she was quite surprised when she snapped out of her daze and focused her eyes on a face instead of an event. Even more surprising was that she had never met the person in the picture. Though, if she were meant to meet this person sometime soon, she wasn’t complaining. The boy in the picture was very cute.
He looked around her age, had a goofy grin on his face, hair slicked back, leather jacket, holding some sort of guitar she was guessing. Yup, definitely wouldn’t mind meeting that guy.
She decided to keep this one, carefully tearing it out of the notebook and leaving it on her desk with a pile of her “normal” drawings. When her mind isn’t plagued with images of events yet to happen, she does like to create her own things. “Normal” stuff that she actually feels comfortable showing people. Not that her art was paid much mind anyway.
She has some stuff displayed at the school, with the encouragement of her Art teacher, but she always hesitated to show her family. She always tried, but they weren’t really interested, more focused on songwriting and such. Her father, who kind of related to her because he was more passionate about photography, was the only one who actually took the time to appreciate her art. Sometimes Carlos too if she drew him a monster or superhero. But Julie and her mother were always off in their own little world in the garage. It’s not like Flora wasn’t into music, she just didn’t have the same passion for it that they did, leaving her to often be excluded from their songwriting sessions.
Now, Flo felt more closed off from Julie than ever before, despite the younger girl losing her passion for music. Her younger sister had become a lot more withdrawn ever since their mom passed. As much as Flora loved her mom, she knew the bond Julie shared with her was even more important and much stronger. While Flora had to suffer from predicting her mother’s death, Julie had to suffer from losing her best friend.
She was startled out of her thoughts by her dad knocking on her door.
“Flo, you still driving Julie and Carlos to school?” Shit. She had totally lost track of time when she was drawing, and didn’t realize she had such little time to get ready.
“Yeah, Dad! I’ll be down in a minute!”
She grabbed a random pair of jeans and a shirt from her closet, shoved her drawing book and school stuff into her backpack, then rushed downstairs, nearly missing the last step.
“Woah! Take it easy, sis.” Carlos said as he had narrowly avoided being trampled by his oldest sister.
“Sorry, lil man. You ready?” She looked around for any sign of her sister, but couldn’t find her. “Where’s Julie?”
“Waiting by the car already, so come on!”
Rolling her eyes she put on her shoes before saying goodbye to Ray.
“See ya later, dude.” She holds out her fist for him to bump.
“Later, Flower.” He bumps her fists before they both pull them away in an explosion.
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The car ride was fairly quiet. Carlos had admitted to her a while ago that he preferred her driving over their dad’s, which she appreciated at the time, but it turns out the boy can be quite the backseat driver. He was constantly telling her what music to play, often changing his mind throughout the ride, and kept asking her what certain road signs meant. Julie, on the other hand, was completely silent. She thought she’d appreciate the quiet when she dropped Carlos off, but Flo had to admit that the silence wasn’t much better. Especially since she knew it was because Julie was nervous for today. Although she didn’t understand the whole music thing, it still hurt her seeing Julie give up something she loved. She wishes she could help more, but was clueless about where to even begin.
“So...big day huh?” she said, earning an exaggerated groan from Julie. The younger girl wasn’t even looking at her, choosing to stare out the window instead.
“Don’t. I don’t know if you realize, but your pep talks kinda suck.” Well okay then. Julie must’ve realized she’d hurt Flo’s feelings when she got no response. With a sigh, she turned to fully face her sister. “God, I’m sorry. I’m just crabby. I was up all night coming up with a million different scenarios for how this day will go.”
“And?”
“Outlook not so good.”
Flora snorted, glad her sister wasn’t drowning in nerves like she was a minute ago.
“Well, even though I won’t be there, I’ll be cheering you on from class. And you have Flynn! One more person, and we’ll have enough to make a tiny cheer pyramid.”
Julie shook her head, giggling at her sister’s attempt to cheer her up. “Okay, I take it back. That was a great pep talk.”
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“Flo! I’m heading out! Help your sister with cleaning up, okay?!” Flora heard her father yell from downstairs before hearing him rush out the door. With a sigh, she got up, leaving her homework on the desk, and headed downstairs to help Julie out.
She caught up with Julie as she was walking out the door. “Cleaning? What cleaning? The house looks pretty clean to me.”
“Mom’s studio.”
Oh. That explains why she looks so sad. Flo knew how hard it would probably be for her sister to clean out the studio. Let alone go inside after not being in it for months.
“Hey, you know what? I can do it myself.”
Julie gave her a half-smile, knowing she just felt sorry for her. “No, it’s okay. It’ll go faster if we both do it.”
With that, Flora grabbed some boxes and they headed to the studio, with some hesitancy from the younger Molina sister. Flo let Julie wander off to the piano, figuring she needed some space, and headed up to the loft to pack some stuff away.
Flo wasn’t big on organization, so she wasn’t really sure to begin. She was thinking of making donate and keep piles, but thought Julie should be the one who decided what to keep. Almost going back down, a CD on the floor caught her attention. It had a plain black cover with the words “Sunset Curve” written in white. Intrigued, Flo brought it back down to show to Julie.
“Hey, Jules, check it out. You ever heard of this band?” Julie took the CD from her hands, shaking her head after inspecting it.
“No, I don’t think so. Come on, let’s play it.”
They walked over to the stereo in the corner, putting the CD in. Flo smiled as the beginning of a rock song started playing. She looked over and noticed Julie bobbing her head to the music as well.
“Hey, this is pretty goo-”
She was interrupted by the sound of screaming, but neither she nor Julie could figure out where the heck it was coming from.
All of a sudden, three figures appear from seemingly nowhere. They were in a pile on the floor before they shakily got up, looking around the studio.
“Woah. How did we get back here?” the one with floppy hair said.
But Flora wasn’t focused on him. Her thoughts still running wild even as her sister and the boys started screaming loudly, the former running out in a panic. Flora, however, felt like her feet were nailed to the floor. She stared, wide-eyed, at the boy on the left. Her eyes scanned over the face she’d just seen on paper this morning. The one with the slicked-back hair and leather jacket. She was sure of it.
It was him.
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Writing Characters With Glasses (Or if you’re getting glasses... a heads-up):
(This is a long list, but it may be helpful)
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Glasses Problems:
First, them getting dirty.
Second, they can be uncomfortable.
Third, getting new prescriptions.
Fourth, losing them.
Fifth, breaking them.
Additional Information
1 - Dirty Glasses/Cleaning Them:
-Glasses get dirty no matter what we do all day, though we don’t always clean them every day, or every week, or even every month.
-When they get dirty enough, we might take them off because they hinder our ability to see and I hate wearing them anyway
-Rain affects glasses like it does a car window: you can’t see anymore without windshield wipers. (As an added bonus for wearing glasses, people can get better at seeing through rainy windows.)
-When we wipe off our glasses on our shirt/pants/nearest cloth-like object, it doesn’t clean them completely—sometimes it even makes them worse.
-We have special a cleaning cloth and a spray bottle given to us for our glasses when we get them, but when these get old or run out, paper towels (though they may scratch the glasses) and Windex (or whatever you use to clean your mirrors/windows) are good substitutes.
-People clean their glasses at different rates. Don’t expect my best friend’s to be as clean as mine. (I don’t know how she sees with those). I myself am a little obsessive over cleaning my glasses. I do it almost every day I wear them.
2 - Uncomfortable:
-When you’re new to wearing glasses, your ears will hurt. A lot. Specifically the part where the glasses lay, the highest part where your ears connect to your head.
-Even when you’ve had them a long time, they can hurt if you wear them too long. For instance, you’ve been up all day and all night and all day again, and you’ve had them on the entire time. Ugh.
-Speaking (or typing) of wearing them too long, they press against your head. So it’s not just your ears that hurt, it’s your head too.
-Falling asleep with them on is the worst if you fidget in your sleep. They can get in the most painful positions... Additionally, if you want to go to sleep (like on a long car ride) they will prevent you from doing so.
-They can give you headaches when you start wearing them. They can give you headaches when you stop wearing them.
-They can make certain hairstyles and hair accessories uncomfortable.
-They either slide around or are too tight, unless by some miracle they fit you perfectly.
3 - New Prescriptions/New Glasses/Contacts:
-We go to the eye doctor on a regular basis to get new glasses. Normally, it’s once a year for me. My father can go for three, five, maybe ten years before replacing his. It varies, but kids typically get them around grade 4 and replace them every year.
-New glasses cost around $100-$200. Here’s when I interrupt with an add for Zenni Optical (https://www.zennioptical.com/) These glasses cost only $20-$35! It has saved a lot of money.
Every time we get a prescription, we have to see an eye doctor. I’ll go over the procedures at the bottom of this post.
-Switching to contacts involves a testing period where you see if they’ll even fit with your eyes or if you have some kind of reaction, leaving you stuck with glasses. Once you get contacts, you can only wear them for a few hours before they begin to hurt. (Normally this is anywhere from 3-8)
4 - Losing Your Glasses:
-Can you see your bedroom floor? No? Then you might be unable to tell me where your glasses are. I’m currently missing mine, but since I can see without them (I only suffer in the one eye) and I’m lazy, I’m not searching for them, although it’s been weeks.
-Thanks to this, if someone who usually loses their glasses comes to school/work/a regularly visited place wearing their glasses, they will get greeted with “Hey! Did you get glasses?” (To which I respond: “Nope! I just lost mine.”)
-You can also lose them somewhere you’ll never find them again. For example, in the woods, off a cliff, in the ocean, at school when you can’t find them in the lost-and-found, or at an event.
5 - Breaking Glasses:
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-Have you ever read a scene like “She walked over the broken glass with caution, panic rising in her as she stared in horror- drama drama drama”? This is breaking our glasses (only we’re staring at our glasses, not whatever it was). This is it. Especially if that pair actually fit. Especially if that pair was perfect.
-Did you ever hear of the excuse ‘my dog ate my homework’? Replace ‘homework’ with ‘glasses’. (This happened to me more than once. “Who’s a good boy?” Not my dog!)
-They are not as fragile as they’re made out to be. They can even survive a punch to the face, believe or not, so long as the person punching is a second grader without experience in martial arts, or as long as the person punches like a kid.
-Dropping them is typically fine, but if you drop them on something like concrete, you’ll get a few scratches on them. They won’t break just from being dropped, though, unlike phones.
-Whenever you break them, you have to get a replacement. You don’t necessarily need to set up another eye appointment, though; you can use your old prescription if you want.
Additional Information:
-We have glasses cases in which to store them, and it’s best to keep them on your nightstand or on the bathroom counter. We lose these too. We get a new one with each pair, and I like to keep my old ones and use them for storing my things.
-We don’t always get the cleaning spray with them, but the cloths are normally consistent.
-Everyone’s glasses look different. We all have our preferences. There are different colors and frame shapes, and metal or plastic frames. I like my basic plastic frames in a dark blue or black color.
-Most people have very different prescriptions, meaning someone’s glasses not able to be used by someone else. (It can still be fun to exchange them, although I’ve heard this harms the eyes.)
-Here are images of cleaning cloths and glasses cases:
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Eye Doctor Appointment Procedures (Which may not be accurate for everyone, but this is what it’s like for me):
1. Set up appointment, as you would a normal doctor’s appointment.
2. Arrive and wait for ages. The waiting room will look like a normal waiting room most of the time, though it’s normally smaller—around seven seats, maybe. (I always liked sitting on the carpet)
3. Someone will call your name and take you to the back, where someone (sometimes the same person) will have three (?) machines) I don’t remember too well—the doctors’ offices all give me weird dissociation and mess with my memory—but they’ll have you rest your chin on part of the machine and your forehead on another. Every time, they’ll tell you not to blink.
4. The first machine will take a picture of your eyes. They’ll have you look into the machine.
5. The second has a picture of a farmhouse and field brought in and out of focus.
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6. Lastly, the machine will blow a puff of air into your eyes to test reflexes, or something. (A lady who tested my eyes once joked that it took your eyes out to clean them and put them back in before you could feel anything other than the puff of air)
7. After the machines, you’ll be taken to a room and told to sit on the weird chair and wait.
8. Once the doctor arrives, he’ll ask a few questions then test different lenses, labeling them numbers 1-10 and asking you which one makes the letters on the screen in front of you look most clear.
Behold, the lense-mixer (it’s actually called a phoropter):
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9. You’re magically given a new prescription, and you can either get frames there or off a website. It’ll take a while to get your prescriptions.
I hope this was helpful!
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dakotacrisis · 5 years
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Transferred (9)
A sick Marinette is a grumpy one too.
---
“Tikki,” Marinette spoke from the bathroom floor, “Do your powers include necromancy?”
“You’re not dying, Marinette.” Tikki was settled on the cool tile next to her sickly chosen.
“Tell that to my stomach.” Marinette heaved into the toilet once more, “Tikki, find Plagg and please have him kill me.”
“It’s just strep throat. It’ll be gone before you know it.” Tikki assured her, “Can I do anything for you?”
“Well--”
“My powers cannot revive your throat.”
“Water please.” Marinette sighed as she tried to spit the taste of bile from her mouth. Tikki floated down with a little paper cup full of water. “Thanks, Tikki.”
There was a knock on the door and Tikki flew into the medicine cabinet to hide. Marinette’s mom stepped in and put a hand to her daughter’s forehead. “My poor baby, you’re burning up.”
“Mooooooom,” Marinette collapsed against her, “I am dying.”
“It is a good thing I got these antibiotics then.” Her mom pulled out a capsule of pills and handed them to Marinette. “Take these, drink plenty of water, and I’ll bring you some ginger tea and toast.”
“I don’t think I can eat.” Marinette mumbled.
“You’ll only feel worse if you don’t.” Her mom reminded her, “Now, I know it may be hard for you but I don’t want you trying to do a million things today. Forget about deadlines and due dates and just rest. Okay?”
“Okay.” Marinette didn’t have any energy to move let alone argue with her mom.
She texted Aurore and Wayhem to let them know she wasn’t going to make it to the movie tonight. They were understanding and hoped she’d get better soon.
Unfortunately for Marinette that was just day one. Turns out her sore throat and nausea wasn’t some simple strep throat. Oh no. She was in full on flu time. Which meant that this sickness was here to stay for a while longer. It had been going around the city and it had come for her. The only sights of the outside world she saw was when her friends would drop off her homework and the feel better soon texts she got from the others.
Even Alya had posted a get well soon comment on Marinette’s picture on Instagram. That made her feel a little better.
Marinette had fitted her bathroom to be as comfortable as it could get during her sickness. Blanket and pillow on the floor, medicine, a full glass of water, some crackers, phone and charger, some books and magazines to read, and of course a soothing Tikki nesting on her head.
Her phone beeped and she looked to see who texted her. Adrien.
I’m sorry I can’t come and see you but my father has forbidden me from being anywhere near you while you’re sick.
Marinette texted him back.
It’s not a problem. I don’t want to get you sick and I especially don’t want you to see me like this
He texted her again.
Nothing a hot shower and long rest can’t fix I’m sure. Has anyone been to see you though?
Just Nanette and Quinn. Wayhem came by with soup but I was asleep.
I guess Kagami’s mother won’t let her out to see you either. I figured as much
Why’s that?
Cause there’s this arts fundraiser coming up that we both have to go to and if we catch the flu our parents will literally kill us
Well we can’t have that. I prefer my friends alive
I do too. We’ll do something when you feel better
I’m holding you to that
As well you should
I think I’m gonna take another nap. Nightie night
I’ll let you rest. Feel better soon!
Marinette dragged herself from the floor and dropped herself onto her chaise, it was too much work to climb up to her bed, before promptly falling asleep.
She had a dream where she was running across the rooftops of Paris but she wasn’t Ladybug. She was dressed in her big ballgown she designed and the world behind her started to turn to night as she ran. “Marinette,” someone’s voice called from the roof next to her. She looked over and saw someone running alongside her. She couldn’t make out their face but what they were wearing kept changing colors. Black then white then red then pink.
“Marinette” they called again.
What did they want? Were they trying to catch her?
“Marinette!”
The person glowed a bright yellow that blinded Marinette and shocked her awake.
“Marinette!” Tikki was tugging on her earlobe.
“Whasswrong?” Marinette slurred as she gently shooed Tikki away from her ear, “Medicine time?”
“No. I’m so sorry but there’s an akuma.” Tikki looked devastated but not nearly as much as Marinette felt.
“Please tell me it’s just Mr. Pigeon again.” Marinette really didn’t want to get up. Her body ached and without the solace of sleep her stomach started to roil again.
“No. It’s a new akuma and you’re really not gonna like it.” Tikki showed her the footage from the Ladyblog. The akuma had sickly green skin and bleach white scrubs. Across their back was what looked like a giant syringe filled with mucus yellow liquid. At random they would pull it from their back and shoot at citizens coating them in the slimy goo.
“Gross,” Marinette’s stomach churned even more. “What does the goo do?”
“Makes the person really sick. Seems Hawkmoth is taking advantage of someone who really doesn’t like being sick.”
“Me.” Marinette pushed herself up, “And we’re positive that we can’t just let this slide until I’m better? It’s not like they’re causing property damage. They’re just making other people sick.”
“Marinette, I know that you feel terrible but it’s not like superheroes can have sick days. Swallow it down and get it over with quick. Then you can come home and relax.” Tikki told her.
“Fine. Tikki, transform me.” Marinette was in her Ladybug get up now. She took a deep breath and launched out of her room to find the akuma and beat them.
At first things were fine. Marinette was tired and weak but she could keep moving without puking.
“Hello, my lady,” Chat Noir was vaulting after her, “I was wondering if you were gonna show up.”
“I really didn’t want to.” Marinette sniffed.
“Did Flu-demic get you?” Chat Noir looked her over, “You look horrible.”
“That’s their name? Flu-demic?” Marinette wanted to crawl back into bed and die. “Also, that’s the first thing you have to say to me? I know I look like a wreck. I don’t need any reminders.”
“Someone’s grumpy when they’re under the weather.”
“Chat,” Marinette warned him, “I am struggling to function right now so if you don’t want me to projectile vomit on you I suggest focusing on beating the akuma and less on teasing.”
“Noted. Just leave it to me, Ladybug.” Chat Noir saluted before vaulting ahead to where the akuma was wreaking havoc.
As much as she wanted to lie back and let Chat Noir deal with this akuma Marinette knew she would feel guilty later. She had to at least try even if she felt like the gunk that gets scraped out of gutters.
She launched herself at Flu-demic again and again in an attempt to subdue them to break the giant syringe where the akuma had to be located. Chat was avoiding the shots of sickening goo left and right. Marinette wasn’t too worried. Not like it could make her more sick than she already was.
Chat was distracting Flu-demic while Marinette went in for a surprise attack from behind.
“Not so fast, Pukey-bug” Flu-demic whacked her in the stomach and sent her flying back.
She crashed through a wall and landed into someone’s living room. She wasn’t able to hold it in anymore and puked all over the poor resident’s hardwood floor.
“Ladybug?” someone approached her, “Are you alright?”
Marinette tried to get up but all fight had left her body. She couldn’t move. Everything hurt.
She looked up to see whose house she had crashed into. “Kagami?” Marinette squinted at her friend.
“What’s happened?” Mrs. Tsurugi rushed into the room. “What’s going on?”
“The akuma sent Ladybug into our living room.” Kagami informed her mother. “She doesn’t look like she’s doing well.”
“I’m not” Marinette started to sob as all the pain hit her. “I can’t--I can’t--”
“But you have to!” Kagami knelt next to her, “You’re Ladybug! You always win.”
“Yeah,” An idea struck her, “Ladybug always does and she will.”
“That’s what I thought--hey! Where are you going?” Kagami asked as Marinette dragged herself into the bathroom and locked the door.
She took off her earrings and Tikki popped out. “What are you doing?” Tikki stressed in a whisper. “Chat Noir needs Ladybug to cleanse the akuma.”
“I know. But I can’t do it in this state, Tikki.” She held out the earrings. “Take them to Kagami.”
“Kagami? Are you sure? This isn’t like any of the other miraculous, you can’t just hand it out to anyone.”
“Kagami is a skilled fighter and a loyal friend. I trust her. Paris needs Ladybug to save the day but it can’t be me today.” she put the earrings in Tikki’s arms. “Go on and explain what’s happened. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Positive,” Marinette eyed the toilet, “Not like I’ll be able to move from here anyways.”
Tikki nodded and zipped through the door with the earrings. A minute later there was a knock on the door. “Yes?” Marinette sighed.
“Ladybug, I can’t--”
“Kagami,” Marinette interrupted her, “I am puking my guts up in here and unable to move. Paris needs someone to save it and I have total faith in your abilities. Tikki will explain everything and you’ll have Chat Noir to help you.”
“But--”
“You can do this, Kagami Tsurugi. I’ll be waiting here when you’re done so you can return my miraculous to me. Understand?”
There was a moment of silence. “Tikki,” Kagami said, “Transform me.”
Marinette watched the sparkle of pink light filter from underneath the door. “I won’t let you down, Ladybug.”
“I know you won’t. Good luck, Kagami.” Marinette melted into the floor as she was finally able to relax. Kagami rushed out of the house and into the fray.
Marinette spent the next couple minutes laying on the floor groaning and puking and overall trying not to die on her friend’s bathroom floor. There was another knock on the door. Could it be Kagami already?
“Miss Ladybug,” No. It was Mrs. Tsurugi.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Will you open the door?”
“I’m sorry but I don’t have my disguise. I can’t--”
“I’m blind, child.”
Oh. Right. She wasn’t too keen on letting someone in when she was in civilian form but it’s not like Kagami’s mom would be able to recognize Marinette. She debated for a moment before unlocking the door.
Mrs. Tsurugi stepped in with a small tray holding a glass of water and a warm bowl of oatmeal. “You should keep your strength up.”
“Thank you ma’am” Marinette took the tray and sipped at the water. It felt good to have something in her rather than rocketing out of her.
“Do not let your sickness discourage you.” Mrs. Tsurugi said, “You still fought valiantly despite it and with a stronger body you may have succeeded.”
“I know.” Marinette took a couple testing bites of the oatmeal, “I feel bad having to ask so much of your daughter so suddenly.”
“Kagami is a fierce warrior with a tactical mind. She will not let you down.”
“I am sure of that.” Marinette sat a little straighter, “You’ve trained her well.”
“Of course. Even with my own disability I have never hesitated. Never backed away from a fight I could not win. I want the same for my daughter.”
“But I feel it is important to remember that she is also young. She is already plenty strong but she should also be allowed to have moments of weakness like the rest of us. To be strong all the time...to never want to rely on others...no one should feel that helpless.”
Marinette could practically hear the scathing remark Mrs. Tsurugi held on her tongue. She may only be holding it because she was talking to one of the heroes of Paris.
“Meaning?” Mrs. Tsurugi snipped.
“I mean I’m one of the heroes of Paris. The one thing that stands between justice and the destruction of this city and even I can’t be on top of everything all the time. Today is a prime example of that.”
“Hmm,” Mrs. Tsurugi hummed.
Several more minutes passed and Mrs. Tsurugi left Marinette alone to wait for Kagami’s return. The water and oatmeal had helped her feel more like a human being.
“Ladybug.” Kagami was back at the door now. “I did it. Flu-demic was defeated.”
“I knew you could do it.” Marinette was relieved to see Tikki fly through the door with her earrings. She gave her a bite of her leftover oatmeal to fuel her back up before transforming again and leaving the bathroom. The living room was back in one piece which was nice to see.
“Thank you for undertaking this task for me.” Marinette thanked her, “You really helped me today.”
“I did my best. Thank you for having faith in me.”
“Was Chat Noir at all surprised that a different version of Ladybug showed up halfway through the fight?”
“Yes. I assured him that you were alright and that you asked me to handle things from then on since you were sick.”
“The important thing is that Paris is safe.” Marinette yawned, “Now if Hawkmoth can wait until after my flu is gone to send another akuma that would be great.”
“Wait, that wasn’t because of the akuma?” Kagami started to back away from her.
“Afraid not.” she smiled in apology, “You may want to make sure you take some medicine or at least disinfect your body if you don’t want to catch what I have.”
“I’ll go do that now. My mother will murder me if I’m too sick to attend the fundraiser coming up.” Kagami sighed. “Feel better soon, Ladybug.”
“Thank you for everything, Kagami.” Marinette finally was able to return home and collapsed onto her bed.
“Sleep.” Marinette almost moaned as she sunk into the warm familiarity of her bed.
Then her phone rang. “UGH!” she reached for her phone, “Hello?”
“Hey, Marinette,” It was Nanette. “I’ve been trying to call you for half an hour now. Did you see the news on that akuma?”
“Yup.” Marinette knew about it all too well, “What about it?”
“Turns out it was our very own Quinn.” Nanette giggled, “I should have known this would happen. Quinn never gets sick but when they do then they have a tendency to blow it way out of proportion. They’re such a hypochondriac and not to mention a terrible patient if you ever try to take care of them.”
“Quinn is sick?” Marinette hadn’t heard this. “Oh no, did they catch it from me?”
“Probably. We both know they’re terrible at keeping themselves tidy what with using their arms as a planner all the time. They probably had a reminder written on their hand when we dropped off your homework a couple days ago and then didn’t wash it after so not to lose it.”
“That does sound like Quinn.” Marinette made a mental note to bake them some get-better-soon cookies when she wasn’t sick anymore. “You haven’t gotten sick too have you?”
“Nope. I keep my hands washed.” Nanette laughed. “Now that I’m on the phone with you I realize that I must have woken you up when you’re not feeling well. I’ll let you rest and see you back in school when you’re better.”
“Not a problem. Talk to you later, Nani.” Marinette hung up and turned off her phone. No more distractions today. Only sleep, medicine, and more sleep.
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(tagged)
@immatureidiot101 @lady-flora-of-slytherin @ladylb
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thedollnerd · 4 years
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Very excited to get my first LOL OMG doll.   I’ve been eyeballing these dolls ever since they came out, read a lot of reviews, people talked about how great the details on the dolls are and along with decent articulation, it was an irresistable combo.. The strange chibi heads put me off at first, but I’m always a sucker for a fully articulated doll, and these are actually chubby looking! .. or at least plumper than the usual fashion doll.
Groovy Babe is from the latest wave of LOL OMG dolls, called Lights.  They all have some kind of UV-reactive element on their face and/or clothes and each doll is inspired by a different type of 60s fashion.  I don’t know an exact reference to point out other than Twilight Zone, but Groovy Babe is clearly evoking a whole black and white psychedelic/hypnotic vibe.  I feel like there’s a film reference here that I’m not aware of.  She is also supposed to be a beatnik poet.
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I kinda love the little hatbox, it fits all her accessories except the comb.  The little white cylinder is a tiny blacklight, with battery included.  The “book” is a single sheet of paper folded in half.  
Hair: super thin rooting on the top of her head, can see scalp through the hair (including black lines presumably there to guide the rooting but clearly totally ignored).  The long hair feels soft, but it’s a little plasticky – is it nylon?  Bangs are one solid mass of gel plastered to her forehead.
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Clothing: Cutout in dress is poorly sewn and bunchy.  Jacket is pretty nice but was carelessly stuffed into the garment bag, so now the lining is sticking out in the front and the collar is permanently popped (which also shows a white mesh lining).
Fully dressed, she looks like maybe she made her clothes herself, and isn’t terribly good at it. 
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Tights and boots are perfect.  Earrings are adorable!  They spin!  Hypnotic!  But they’re hard to see when she’s wearing them; they kind of face sideways and her hair covers them.  Also, the paint has started coming off already, the first time I put them on the doll.  Sunglasses are odd and not very 60s mod, but pretty damn cool; they’re made of a softish, almost rubbery plastic, so they’re very easy to put on and take off without having to worry about breaking them.  The long narrow glasses look funky and cool with the round eyes of the doll; makes me think of Novi Stars.
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  Body:  Love those curves!  These dolls have wonderfully chonky butts and thighs.  Butt dimples!  Still has a thigh gap though, for some damn reason.  Also, extreme hourglass waist and sculpted abs, just in case you might be afraid this doll is a nasty fatty fatfat.  Beautiful curvy legs, but sadly they have very old-fashioned jointing – hips have zero rotation and knees are crappy click joints that are hard to use and barely bend.
  Why these dolls come with chair-like stands is totally beyond my comprehension, since they can barely sit.  Feet are en pointe like a ballerina – not just tiptoed high heel feet, these are almost torturously pointed.  Wonderfully sculpted little toes though.  Smallish pointed breasts with just a hint of nipples.  Painted-on bikini undies match her pale turquoise eyeshadow.  Hands pop off for ease of dressing and are gracefully sculpted, with cute little dimples on the knuckles (which would make more sense on chubby hands, but whatever).  The hands actually go off and on really nicely, no fear that I’m going to break the joint doing it.  Fingernails are pointy and painted white; the paint is actually quite well-done here, they’ve done a pretty good job of keeping it only on the nails without overspray onto the fingers (unlike some other OMG dolls I’ve seen).
Face: Bizarre LOL round-eyed face; almost Bratz-like in the lips and near lack of a nose, but the eyes are absolutely enormous and perfectly round.  The proportions of the features put me off at first, but there’s something about the way they’re done that’s surprisingly appealing.  This doll has a very matte faceup in solid colors; edges are mostly clean and the paint is almost completely within the lines of the sculpt.  Her lips remind me of a certain iconic stomach medicine.  Eyeshadow is a light turquoise color with a darker turquoise line above it, with a cat-eye black liner and spiky lower lashes that mimic the drawn-on lashes people used to do in the 60s.  Somebody did their homework on 60s mod makeup.   Eye color is an indigo blue, complements the makeup nicely; a little boring, but more detail in the eyes might just make them look creepy since they’re so very large. 
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My doll has three tiny black spots on her face, and a handful of faint white spots on the black of one eye (the paint seems thinner on this eye for some reason – the swirl is more obvious in regular light).  Head has an unfortunate tendency to tilt slightly back, and not because of the weight of her hair.  She can tilt her head just fine when she’s looking to the side, but facing forward, she can’t look up or down at all.  The vinyl of her head is slightly more orangey than her body?  
Gimmick: It’s a fail, at least with this particular doll, at least with the tiny black light included with her.  The black and white overall color scheme looks cool under black light, but the specifically UV-sensitive stuff is mostly barely there. The UV-sensitive? stripe on the dress is rather visible in regular light, and yet indistinguishable with the black light.  The “hypnotic” twirls in her eyes are barely visible even with the black light right up against them.  I tested all of this in the dark btw.
The makeup is the one thing that actually does change noticeably.  The lips are still pretty much the same color, but they’re super bright neon under the black light.  The eye makeup changes color and has an extra layer of eyeliner that’s mostly invisible under regular light.
It’s a pretty underwhelming effect overall, but if I had a blacklight room I’d display her in it, after finding her some new clothes.  I’d rather they’d just made things better quality and not done the stupid gimmick, but whatever; their goal is to sell toys to children and the LOL brand is kind of rooted in gimmicks.
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These dolls are extreme caricatures of a “sexy” human female (if you like big butts – and do not lie).  I do wonder if they were inspired by Betty Boop; they have almost an identical silhouette, with the big round heads, tiny waist, and big hips.  Their proportions are so cartoony and absurd and clearly very thoughtful choices were made that sacrificed functionality for form – the terrible click joints in those smooth, shapely legs, for example.  Though why the hip joints couldn’t rotate is a choice I can’t understand..
She’s a cute little doll, to be sure, but not display-worthy, or even something I’m really excited about photographing (which is the only real surprise involved in opening this box that supposedly contained 15 surprises). 
Real talk about the surprises, actually – the things included in this box that are not pictured on it are: the stand, the garment bag with plastic hanger, the plastic hatbox with patterned tissue paper, the sunglasses, and a folded piece of paper pretending to be a notebook of poems.  So the only real bonus item that you wouldn’t expect to receive by looking at the box is the sunglasses.  At least there’s something. 
Anyway.  I’m left with mixed feelings, honestly kind of disappointed?  Is the doll I got sub-par or is this typical?  Am I just hugely, stupidly picky?  I want to rehair her; she’s crying out for it, really.  Maybe I’ll fall in love with her once her worst flaw is gone.  Maybe I’ll rip her head off and try some other ones.  Maybe she can be my big-booty guinea pig.
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This is the best I could get her clothes to look in a photo.. Unless she’s holding it shut like this, the jacket keeps flapping open with that white mesh stuff flopping out.
Still excited for Angles.  I’ve had a thing for Mondrian and his right angles for a long time and it’s really fun to see his art referenced with a fashion doll.
Review: Groovy Babe LOL OMG doll Very excited to get my first LOL OMG doll.   I've been eyeballing these dolls ever since they came out, read a lot of reviews, people talked about how great the details on the dolls are and along with decent articulation, it was an irresistable combo..
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bunnis-babes · 5 years
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Something About the Stars Chapter 3: First Day Part 2
You stared blankly at the now empty gym. Morning practices had just ended and now you were patiently waiting for your guide, Kuroo, to finish changing. Your feelings about Kuroo were somewhat neutral at the moment. He seemed alright, he was very good looking despite his unkempt appearance, and he was funny in a teasing kind of way. Now that you thought of it, he reminded you of a black cat, which was fitting. You chuckled to yourself, very proud of your connection.
“What’s so funny?” you heard next to you.
You whipped your head to the voice and found none other than Kuroo. You let out a breath and shake your head. Yes - very much like a black cat.
“Nothing, just thought of something…” you trailed off awkwardly, not quite ready to be buddy-buddy with this - pretty much - stranger.
He shrugged off your response with a smirk.
“Alright. Now are you planning on sitting there the whole day, or are you going to let me show you around?”
You nodded and stood up, gesturing in front of you “Well lead the way, my guide.”
He chuckled and began walking with you alongside him. You made sure there was a respectable distance between the two of you as to not give anyone the wrong idea - rather, any ideas at all. The two of you walked in a mostly comfortable silence; Kuroo only piped up to either announce what part of the school you were at or give a comment when he deemed it necessary. Some of his more clever comments even made you hold back a giggle or two, and you somehow felt relaxed around him - it was all very strange to you.
“Do you know what your schedule is so I can, you know, show you around a bit better,” he said expectantly
You sighed and pulled your bag off your shoulder, shuffling through its contents until you pulled out a piece of paper with all your information on it. You handed to him and allowed him to scan through its contents with little hums of amusement. It felt like he was ridiculing you for a second, but he handed it back with a smirk.
“Looks like you really like torturing yourself,” he chuckled, you didn’t find it amusing, and you were sure to show him with the dead look on your face.
‘I’m kidding,” he threw his arms up in defense, “but seriously, you’re taking several college-level courses, that’s going to be tough.”
“I can handle tough.” you retort.
“And I never said you couldn’t. Anyway, we’ve got two classes together, so I can help you out with them if you need,”
You eye him suspiciously, “Which classes?”
“Physics and Calculus.”
You look at him in surprise, you didn’t take him for the hard-working smart type. Then again, who were you to judge, you probably looked like a dumb angsty first year to him.
“Wow, I’ve only known you for a couple of minutes and I’ve already left you speechless.” he teases, and you actually have to fight back a blush and a smile.
“Can you just show me to my classes, Kuroo.” you sigh.
He gives you a Cheshire grin that makes your stomach feel weird.
“Of course, my lady.”
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Your first and second-hour classes were uneventful, just the usual reintroducing students to a new school year. You knew absolutely no one in those classes, so you hardly interacted with anyone and sat silently in your seat doodling on your paper. Your third hour was Calculus with Kuroo. Once again the same thing, but this time you had Kuroo who occasionally spoke to you when he wasn’t catching up with other students. Fourth, fifth, and sixth you had with that excitable girl from earlier. Saki- Sara- Sachi- something like that. She tried her best to talk to you, and even get you to talk to some of her friends. Seventh hour you had Kuroo again, which was fine. Your teacher was much more interactive in this class than all the others, and you knew physics would be an enjoyable class here.
Finally, your classes were over, but you stayed in your seat for a moment. Clubs were about to begin, and you were struggling to decide on whether or not you wanted to join one. You were given a list of the clubs in a packet before school started, but you only find yourself interested in three. The volleyball club was tempting, but you knew Nekomas female team was mediocre at best so you scratched that off the list right away. You could go for art club, but you’d rather not interact with the art teacher more than you had - he gave off weird vibes. Finally, there was the student council, it seemed alright, if only it wasn’t writhing with the teacher's pets and suck-ups.
With a sigh, you stood. It was most likely best if clubs stayed on the back burner now, you should wait to see how well you can balance homework and homelife before you add in clubs. You walk yourself silently through the mostly empty halls and take in the school as a whole from what you’ve experienced. You decide you don’t hate Nekoma. Sure, it didn’t have Bokuto or Akaashi or anyone who could understand your soulmate dilemma, but it was alright.
You allow your mind to settle on this thought for a moment and walk yourself to the front gates.
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Your route home was the same route you took to school. It was also apparently the same route Kuroo took home as well - thus lead to your current situation of the two of you walking side by side to your houses. You lived in the same neighborhood as him and this was just the fastest route for both of you, you assumed. Still something bout this bothered you, you had so many coincidences with this guy it was getting strange. Then it clicked.
“Kuroo, why aren’t you at volleyball practice? I feel like as the captain, it's your responsibility to show up.” you mused.
Maybe things worked differently at Nekoma with club captains, but you highly doubted it.
“Coach decided to give us a break for the first day of school,” he said nonchalantly.
You hummed, that did make plenty of sense. Still, it was oddly convenient.
“Alright, it’s been bugging me for a while,” Kuroo suddenly spoke up “how’d you become friends with someone like Bokuto.”
“He didn’t tell you?” you questioned.
“I never asked him, never even thought to until I actually talked to you. You two don’t really seem like you’d fit together well.” he chuckled.
“Well, neither do him and Akaashi, but they make it work.” you counter
You wished you could ass ‘because they’re soulmates,’ but you didn’t know what his stance was on that subject, and you did not want to get into a heated debate with this guy.
“Touché,’ he chuckled, “but seriously tell me, you don’t have a forced reason to hang out with the guy.”
You nodded, he had a point.
“Well, it was my first year at Fukurodani, and I was never really social so I didn’t join any clubs. For the first half of the year I just… hid in teachers' rooms after school or went to Juku.
Then for some reason, I don’t even remember what, I decided I would just hide-out in the gym after school. I didn’t really pay much attention to the guys first, but I eventually found my attention captured by them and the sport, and so instead of doing homework I watched volleyball.” you paused for a moment, wondering how to explain Bokuto’s actions but was rudely interrupted.
“Is that why you were creeping on us today, you like Volleyball?” he teased.
You gave him a harsh glare.
“Yes and no, just shut up so I can explain.
As I was about to say, Bokuto approached me first, because I wasn’t about to talk to someone as intimidating as him. He just talked to me like a person, and we somehow melted into a friendship over our mutual love for volleyball and other things, as cheesy as that sounds.”
Kuroo hummed thoughtfully at your story.
“Believable, I feel like you watered down Bokuto’s forceful-friendship a bit, though.” he joked.
You laughed - laughed out loud at his blunt statement. It wasn’t funny because he was right, Bokuto was forceful with his being friends with you or anyone. There was something about it being said out-loud so blatantly, however, that made you want to laugh about it. Kuroo eventually started laughing along with you, once he got over his initial confusion. Surely both of you look like idiots, but it felt so nice to laugh with someone different that you can't bring yourself to care.
“S-sorry,” you said through giggles, “it’s just… r-really nice to laugh about something with someone different for once.”
“I get what you mean, it's nice to have different people around to talk to sometimes,” he assures.
“Ah- this is mine…” you said, a bit disappointed your chat with Kuroo was over.
Kuroo nodded and complimented your house politely, as most people who see it does. You both said your goodbyes and made your way in opposite directions. You were about to open the door when you heard Kuroo call out to you.
“You should come to tomorrow's practice, and I’ll walk you to school too!” he shouted.
“I don’t want to get up that early.” you retort.
He laughs at your stubbornness.
“Don’t worry, no morning practices tomorrow, just the one after school. What do you say?”
His offering is really considerate, and who are you to decline.
“Be outside my place at 8:30 sharp, or I’m leaving without you!” you manage to joke.
You feel your heart swell with pride in yourself when he smiles and gives you a thumbs up.
(I apologize for how sloppy this is, I’m incredibly tired right now.)
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pizza-soup · 4 years
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Man I remember my summers...
- I remember whatever I could fit into my makeshift cassette holder would be my backseat summer playlist, so I spent two days before the major trip deciding what to bring along. I still love the 4,000+ songs my MP3 player and phone can carry, but I still make summer playlists when I go somewhere.
- Trips to the museum was a big treat for me. I’ve always had a fascination for ancient life, as well as gems and minerals. I dreamed I’d find a dinosaur skeleton one day, I’d find gems one day. Little did I know I’d major in the geo-sciences and I would find fossils and precious minerals. My child self would be proud.
- My film camera was used only for the best shots, and there was an anticipation of getting it back from processing to see how everything came out. Some were duds, but many pleasantly surprised me. I love the convenience of digital photos today, I can take hundreds of them and it’s much cheaper than film, but I still miss the anticipation. So sometimes I take those photos anyways, don’t delete any and let them print. Let them surprise me.
- I made and collected so many zines. I remember walking to the convenience store and scanning/printing them out in the back on cheap newsprint or colored paper with friends, then cutting them on the front of the store, trading them, decorating them with colored pencils while drinking slushes. If I could find them I’d love to read them again, see if my penmanship was as bad as I remember.
- I often wondered if I was the only one in class who looked forward to summer homework. I think it was because it meant I get to buy school supplies early. My obsession with stationery and office stuff started very early. Of course I need black paper and gel pens, mom! Of course I need glitter glue and pearly watercolors! I admit, I never lost my love for art stuff and Is still hoard it.
- Going to the harbor, spending money on taffy. Watching out for dolphins and whales. Going to the beach and body surfing. Sandy feet, gulls, tidepools, beachcombing, those cold sprayers we used to rinse off, then piling into the car, towels on the seat, good music playing, going to bed tired in a good way. can’t do that now, living so far from the ocean, but a shady creek is the next best thing, and it does have freshwater shells and fish.
- Walking to the fish market with my mom early in the morning. Picking out something we’ll be eating for dinner tonight with curry. Do I want halo-halo from the vendor outside? It’s hard to chose. Drinking barley tea while playing my NES hoping it’ll rain to calm the heat. Can’t go to a fish market, but I do still cook a lot of frozen fish, make curry rice, still drink barley tea and this year I bought a shaved ice machine to make halo-halo or kakigori a home. I still have my NES but these days I play on my old 3DS.
- Going to the mall with friends. Heading to the Print Club machine to get photo stickers to put on keychains and notebooks. Hanging out in front of the arcade, milk shakes in hand. Going into a soap shop and wanting everything in there, but also coming out with a headache. Going to Sanrio and picking up cute stationery stuff. There’s no mall or Print Club where I am, but there are apps where I can send it to my printer and make stickers if I want, but I don’t take photos of myself anymore, now it’s just my cats! All my Sanrio stuff is now vintage and can be sold for a small fortune...but I’m too sentimental.
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maikatc · 4 years
Text
Black Sun Tale | Bread and Water
Remember that this is only a first draft with minor edits, but have fun reading! Comments and reception is greatly appreciated! --- “What I came up with today? Uh…,” Flipped some pages, “I came up with two new characters earlier?”
The city streets screeched with traffic noise and crowds chattering, smoke surrounding the air with a bar across the avenue. 
“Gabriel’s story’s kinda sad. He killed this guy named Wren, but they were like brothers.”
Off between two aged buildings, an alleyway poked out with barely any notice.
“He hates Zero- or Hiro now though. He’s the reason why Wren went crazy.”
The interior of the alley carried a scattered mess of blankets, journals, calendars, along with other miscellaneous things. Though a single journal stuck to being held, firm by the grasps of a boy. 
His sickly pale skin complemented his unkempt and grimy black hair. While his twig body shivered by the gentle cold. His boney fingers pointed at drawings from his one of many journals towards the girl next to him. “That’s Gabe when he got mad at Dannie after finding out.” His voice rasped. 
Observing the girl’s reaction, her expression perked to something of confusion. “How did Wren and Gabe get to that situation though?”
He rolled his eyes to the side. “I haven’t gotten that much into the backstory. But all I know is that they both got into a mess like Evie or Lucia.” Blinked twice. “It’s just that while Evie was mad at becoming a slave, Gabriel was mad because his entire life’s purpose was taken away from him… and he’s in denial about it being kinda his fault too.”
Her cocoa hair blocked the faces she made from the boy’s slouched position on the ground. However, she chirped up quickly enough. “Ayu, I’m really digging Gabriel right now.”
“Really,” Ayu questioned, sitting back up a little the process. “I thought he was kinda basic.”
“Yeah,” she turned her floor seat towards him, revealing her fair complexion made out of light makeup. “From what you told me so far. I’m guessing he’s being ignorant of his past mistakes completely and letting out all his anger to someone else, right? At least from what I can tell in this picture.”
“I guess so?”
“Okay, I didn’t screw up on reading the comic panel,” making a small clap with her hands. “That can be realistic if you do it right, but you can also mix in a theme with that-”
“Annette. No,” Ayu interrupted her. “When you talk about ‘theme’ and that stuff, I get more of a headache than every other minute of life,” he groaned. 
“Do you want me to get you some ibuprofens?”
“I’m fine.”
Annette nodded. “Well other than that, I still feel bad for Hiro,” she pouted. 
Ayu lifted a brow and eyed her. “He’s the one who trapped ten kids in a death maze.”
“But he’s trying to get better!”
He scoffed, “He still did bad things, that’s why Evie treated him like shit afterwards.”
“You’re the one giving him a redemption arc though?”
“I’m just trying to stay close to the original idea.” Ayu closed the book and chuck it to the side. “Even if I don’t really believe in it.”
Annette’s lips twitched. “He’s just trying to be a better person than before…”
“He was still a dick. Out of anything, you should be feeling bad for Wren.”
“How so?”
Ayu set his arms back. “He was lied to for most of his life and he only got killed in the end for having a different opinion, pretty much.”
“So, he’s pretty much a pity party?” Annette eyed him. Ayu already knew what she was telling with her expression. 
“No. He just go fucked over too much because of both Gabriel and Zero.” 
Annette rolled a shoulder, pulling back her hair in the process. “I guess I like all of them, anyways. I’m just still hoping you can pull it off well.” Her lashes fluttered in the dim lights. “Did you come up with Gabriel and Wren from your dreams again?”
Ayu hummed. “Kinda. I had a random dream last night where a guy shoots another guy with an arrow but gets sad about it. That’s how I got Wren’s death.”
“Anything else from it?”
“There was a bit more, but it’s blurry.”
“Any others dream while I haven’t been here,” She asked. 
Ayu blinked. “I just have that, some girl screwing herself over and getting her friend dead, then nothing.” 
Annette hesitated with her words. “No dreams of Lillie?”
Ayu paused, seeing Annette flinch from her own question. He buried his hands in his hoodie pockets and looked down. “… None of those.”
She apologized with her eyes narrowed. The area went silent for the two. A minute? Two? Ayu couldn’t tell. He could barely count with patience. 
“How long have you been here?”
“Huh? About an hour, I think…” She brought her phone to her view, checking the time. “God, we spent a lot of time goofing off.”
“You have homework, don’t you? You should go home, school’s tomorrow anyways.” 
“… Right.” Annette stood up, her tall figure looming before Ayu. A second of standing still, she face-palmed herself. “Oh god, I have three projects to do.”
“Then get on to it,” Ayu joked. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Annette grabbed back her already cleaned up board game and binder. “I’ll see you another time then.”
Before taking a turn back home, a “Bye” could be heard quietly over a car honking. 
Ayu studied the outside of the alleyway in silence. Every second brought a new face passing by, and it brought the reminder that no one noticed him staring. A child, a couple, a group of teens, they all went their own ways, not even taking a glance of something that’s nonexistent for them. 
The boy groaned, turning back and plopping his head to a pillow, gifted by Annette. As he slammed his body to the ground, the rough concrete hit him back. He winced like every other day when he fell over from exhaustion. Though, the routine of his ‘home’ was redundant. 
He muttered in his own silence, “Ow.”
At least he had a pillow unlike the first two years of four when living in the alleyway. 
Laying down, still and blank, Ayu sighed and grabbed his journal from the side again. He flipped through the thin paper, skimming past the art he made, and stopped at the next blank page. He crawled to grab the pencil he left on the other side of the alley earlier in the day, and crawled back to his pillow to write:
October 21st 201X
Came up with new caracters today, dont know what to do
Did noting else today, like usuel
I got a litle mad at Annette, probly was a bad idea
No monsters, No Akeldama
As Ayu moved his arms to store the book away, a voice halted him. 
“Looks like you’ll be having an insipid time again.”
Ayu jumped, sitting immediately and twisting his head around. Finding nothing, he sighed, “Speak of the Devil…” He then crossed out the note of ‘No Akeldama’ for the day. 
“Did you miss me from last time?”
Ayu leaned back to the rigid wall, conversing with the voice ringing across his head. “Just tell me what the hell is going on,” he groaned. 
“Oh child, you won’t be getting that anytime soon for sure,” The voice mocked him. 
“You’ve been telling that to me for how long?”
“I don’t know in all honestly, I’ve lost track of time after my first hundred years.”
Ayu leered at nothing. “Four years, Akeldama. Four years.”
“Ah right, you’re twelve now, correct?”
“Yeah. Turned twelve last June.” 
“Well, aside from that, have you met any new people?”
Ayu sighed. “I haven’t, luckily.”
“What a pity,” Akeldama sneered, “You were the kid that pouted about being lonely, yet once you get a friend, you don’t even want another one anymore.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re just a greedy brat.”
“What do you want now Akeldama?” Ayu’s mind raced quickly, his heart beating rapidly. 
“I was simply here to check if you were the same as before, which you are by the way,” he muttered. “Though I’m also here for something else on the matter of you.”
“Dear god, what now?” 
“Funny calling me ‘god’,” he chuckled, “but I think you’ll soon meet somebody you’ll get along with.”
“Wait…,” Ayu murmured. His eyes widened. “Akeldama don’t tell me-”
“You’ll be having fun for the next few months. I promise,” he reassured him. 
“You fucker,” Ayu yelled, slamming his fists onto the hard ground. Though, he brought both of them up immediately from the pain, gasping at the impact of the floor cracking. He held both tightly against one another as they both burned. 
“God, damn it Akeldama…”
No reply.
Ayu placed his head down into his knees and closed his eyes. His boney joints pressed against his forehead. Two deep breaths, then hold. 
He pulled his head back after seconds, groaning, “Why did I decide to go through with this…?”
Ayu’s eyes flutter back open as his stomach made a painful growl. 
“Right…” He clicked against his chapped lips. “When was the last time I ate?” 
The growl reminded him of the stomach pain from recent days, aching as he puckered. The pain bothered him, but Annette already left to his dismay. 
“I need to get food now then,” he muttered to himself. 
He hopped up from his sitting position, his bone-thin legs freezing up from the cold. Exiting the alleyway, Ayu turned to the grocery store route. 
He pulled up his hoodie quickly, his tired eyes being protected from the soft light. And he ventured out to treat himself to food and water rations.
*
A jug of water and a bag of bread, Ayu repeated to himself multiple times. 
The shop held multiple items to Ayu’s attention. Aisles carried shiny toys, colorful pencils and journals, to junk food and candy. Ayu stared at the chips bar, slurping up the slight drool dripping out of him. He shook his head. Bread and water. Bread and water. 
How long had it been for the boy to have a nice meal? When was the last time he had the sweets he loved?
Bread and water. 
When was his last chip binge? His coloring book sessions and playtime?
Stop being a bitch and get what you need already. He scolded in his head. 
He dashed to an unfamiliar aisle so his mind wouldn’t get dragged elsewhere. Stacks and piles of paper towels and toilet paper surrounded him through his short walk to the bakery. His head bobbed in a sigh that he didn’t need anything of such thanks to shop bathrooms and recreation center showers.
However, as soon as he exited the aisle, aromas of pastries and baked goods filled his senses. He ignored it since the shop’s goods were usually too sweet for him despite his tooth. Walking down, he read through the brands of bread, squinted his eyes to spell and read out some words himself. It was only until his found a decent bag of bread rolls did he go off to the drinks section. 
The sodas and fizzy pops caught eyes of most, though Ayu’s tongue had more of a distaste for it. He turned from the bright and dazzling colors to the row of water jugs. His memory of measurements buzzed in his mind, though not enough to remember how much a liter was compared to a gallon. 
After staring, his mind boggling on which was which, Ayu gave up and choose which one seemed like the largest. 
Ayu ended up carrying the bread rolls in one hand and the three-gallon jug of water with the other by his stick arms. He walked out of the aisle, closing in on the exit. 
He stepped with hesitant feet. His head twisted and turned to assure nobody near him. A single bump from someone else and he could be done for the day. 
He swept through the cashiers. His scattered gaze wandered through all of them left and right. But in a single heartbeat, his body already went passed them unlike his mind. 
Ayu sighed and took a step towards the store exit. His guilt cultivated him like every other time he’s done this. It’s better for me. Even if I don’t actually need it-
A grip of a hand pulled him back from leaving. Ayu’s heart froze as his breath started to stutter immediately. He turned slowly, and echo of a voice ringing loudly to him. I’m fucked. 
“Hey…” He saw the face of the one who grabbed him by the arm. He was around the same age as him, younger maybe, but shorter for sure. “Hey…” His light brown skin shined by the store’s lights along with the freckles dotted around his nose and cheeks. While his soft green eyes glared at him in confusion. His dark red hair was also a first for Ayu to see-
“Hey!” the kid repeated himself. Ayu blinked spastically, his breathing still frigid. “What are you doing with that?”
---
Ten Dollars | Next>>>
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