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dream-meister-translations · 2 years

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ABSOLUTE OBEDIENCE x KING'S GAME - PART 1

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With bubbles popping in my glass of sparkling wine, and dazzling lights shining from the chandeliers overhead, I couldn’t help but feel as if we’d stepped into a scene straight out of a movie... YMIR : Emma, you don't need to be so nervous. EMMA : Easier said than done in atmosphere this overwhelming... VICTOR : It's not all that surprising, given that every other attendee is a well-dressed, handsome man. LEN : Hey, it's time to wrap up this boring meet and greet. Stop yapping you stupid host! HOST : As I’ve talked about in length already, when so many families come together like this, there is always something to take away from it. HOST : We are friends and foes each, and in the illustrious words of wisdom from our busy Mam whom is on her way over: "Enjoy today, for tomorrow." EVERYONE : Cheers!

━

Tonight was the Bloody Lady's annual party, a get-together for the many families hailing from all over the Graveland area. VICTOR : Hmmm ♪ Not bad, this wine is indeed worthy of representing the Bloody Lady. They’re certainly not skimping on the money. YMIR : It's not just the drinks. It's the venue, the people, and the beauty of it all. VICTOR : Every family, large and small, with roots in the Graveland area are gathered here, so it is indeed quite crowded. Even if our more hostile families remain absent, there must be at least 500 people here.

EMMA : It seems most of families number a dozen or more. We're the only one with so few... LEN : You idiot. Who cares about that? Remember what Camus said?

*FLASHBACK*

CAMUS : We have to pay our respects to the Bloody Lady, but we simply can’t afford to send too many of our men. It will hurt the overall operation of our casino. *FLASHBACK END*

EMMA : It's honestly so amazing though. Imagine being able to just rent such a huge castle for a simple get-together... Indeed, we’d all traveled far from the casino district of Graveland to this glittering old castle. VICTOR : Did you know that this castle is actually property of the Graveland’s royal family. EMMA : Whoa, royalty!? Then how are they able to use a venue like this? YMIR : Haven't you heard? The royal family of Graveland and the Bloody Lady are good friends thanks to the casinos bringing in tourists and turning large amounts of profit for the country. LEN : Ha. They can do whatever the hell they want, including building an entire casino inside this ancient castle.

VICTOR : It's an opportunity to demonstrate the power of the Bloody Lady. I'm certainly going to make a big show of it! EMMA : But the scale of the event is still amazing... YMIR : Emma? Not to scare you, but it would be wise to exercise caution around these people... As the host said, there are many families from the underworld gathered here... They may look friendly at first glance, but don’t forget they still belong to dangerous organizations... VICTOR : Well, I doubt anything would happen out in the open, but it would still be foolish to let our guard down so easily.

?? : But if you're going to a party, you have to have fun. There is no point in pretty flowers like you staying on the wall! EMMA : Liebe? LIEBE : I'm sorry to bother you, but I'd hate to miss out on an opportunity to get to know you better. BURN : hahaha! Here comes Burn! Now that I'm here, you can rest easy, no matter what happens! EMMA : What, Burn and Sparrow are also here!? SPARROW : Hey, why did you have to pull me into this too, Burn!? BURN : To protect Emma of course!

SPARROW : That doesn’t answer my question! YMIR : Isn't it great? I think it's a good thing to have more people to protect Emma. She's going to stand out no matter what she does, and it’s only a matter of time before some shady guy tries to grab her. LIEBE : I can agree with that, because I would grab at her instantly~ LEN : Don't make the mistake of materializing guys, you're just gonna stir shit and cause a lot of fucking trouble. VICTOR : That much is true. The sudden appearance of three black fairies would undoubtedly startle people and cause a huge commotion. LIEBE : A commotion, huh? I don't want to cause trouble for Emma, so I'll just be quiet and stay by your side for now. Emma, you may miss my touch, but can you be patient for but a moment longer, for me?

EMMA : I see you’re the same as ever, Liebe. But it's a party and I'm glad we can all three spend time together like this!

BURN : Oh! I'll take good care of you and keep you safe, you can trust me! SPARROW : I'd go back into the key if I could. VICTOR : Sparrow, since you're here, why not enjoy the atmosphere? LIEBE : Yes, yes. And why don't you try to live a little and blend in while you’re at it? With a snap of his fingers, Liebe's and Sparrow's appearances warp, replaced with that of glamorous gentlemen.

EMMA : Wow, you two look great! BURN : Oh, a form change! I think you look very heroic, my friends.

Burn himself has no intention of changing his attire, and gives a thumbs-up to his fellow fairies.

EMMA : (I guess all that matters to Burn is whether he sees their attire as "heroic" or not...) SPARROW : I don't want a new outfit! I was fine! LEN : Oh, fucking shut the fuck up! All of a sudden, I could feel someone's eyes on me.

MALE GUEST 1 : How unexpected, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this. MALE GUEST 2 : Would you like to have a drink and chat with us? EMMA : What? No, I'm just一 YMIR : Hey, back off. This is my girl. What do you want? Before I can reply, I feel a weight against my shoulder pulling me back a step and guiding me to lean gently into Ymir. The men laughed and shrugged, walking away in the appearance of Ymir. EMMA : Thank you, Ymir.

YMIR : You're welcome ♪ I know it's strange, but don't get too far away from me, okay? LIEBE : Okay!! I think I'm gonna materialize now! BURN : I agree! VICTOR : You two, don't materialize. Ymir, don't flirt so much.

━ After chatting and laughing for a while, the host's voice echoed through the hall again.

HOST : As part of the entertainment here tonight, we will be playing a game... The King’s Game. It's quite simple. If you win, and become king, you will have the right to rule over everyone here tonight at your leisure. Whether that’s serving your meals, polishing your shoes, or making your wildest dreams come true.

HOST : There is but one rule: You are forbidden from taking each other’s lives. Beyond that, we will not condemn you for doing anything to anyone. MALE PARTICIPANT 1 : What the hell are you talking about? Why would we ever agree to that!? HOST : Ha ha, well, you do have the right to refuse, however, as you are in the belly of the Bloody Lady, that wouldn’t exactly be your wisest choice, now, would it?

The venue, which had been filled with jeers, fell to a sudden and deathly silence at the implications of the host’s words.

VICTOR : Hmm... And there’s me thinking tonight would just be fun. YMIR : Looks like they’re deadly serious about this. LEN : Hehe...The right to rule over all others... How interesting! And just like that, the glamorous atmosphere of the castle had shifted, and you could the tension with a knife. The night of whirling desires had began.

#yumekuro #ymkr #yumekuro translations #ymkr translation #dream meister and the recollected black fairy #ymkr len #ymkr victor #ymkr ymir #ymkr event #yumekuro event #king1

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tricitymonsters · 2 years

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progress report 9/9

atlas is working on refining Akello’s face and body though the preview of his face that I posted here and on discord/pat*reon is going to be very close to final. We’re basically just kinda refining his hair and beard look at this point.

yes i’ve seen sketches of his body and YES i’m pretty sure yall are gonna go nuts. this man is so hot god.

speaking of pat*reon 🖕

nothing major, just incredibly frustrated with their website (as always). Uploading multiple files per post is not working and that was one of my goals this week so ugh.

Also I have come to learn that their security team has either walked or was fired yesterday so I’m not sure if their site/server capabilities are impacted on the customer end because of that.

but let me be clear, I use pat*reon because there’s very few alternatives and more power to the skilled workers who left what was probably a really shitty environment.

ANYWAY back to why this was an issue- i’m trying to migrate all of the perks for pat*rons into 1 area > ergo converting the drop box concept art galleries into gallery posts on patreon itself.

To go with this i whipped up a really simple directory for pat*rons that will look something like this

EDIT thanks tumblr for making this reasonably sized thumbnail look like that Do You Love The Color of the Sky Post. Very Cash Money Of You

The links will make you log in (where applicable) so all the right rewards will be accessible to the right ranks.

eventually both this and the character guide will be part of the tricitymonsters.com website but that requires a ton more coding/design work than carrd so I’m putting that slightly lower on the priority list for now.

Speaking of rewards I’m running behind on Galleria fills again but I’m hoping to get them polished off for yall this weekend. I had some inconvenient happenings the last two weeks that really ate into my writing time. so. Hoping to make up some lost ground this weekend.

the Amir 1.2 update is out for pat*rons! This has no new content but it does correct some typos and other bugs that were notated with the 1.1 release.

The 2022 Spooktober Visual Novel Jam is in full swing for the 4th year in a row! For those of you who knew me last year, you know that i sequestered myself in my house for 30 days straight to create the original Mori chapter of TCM as an entry! I’m not submitting again this year as TCM has gained enough traction to warrant spending more time on, you should ABSOLUTELY go and check out the entries! Game jams have some of the most innovative and novel gamedev you can find and its a great place to play something new or learn to make games yourself.

Starting October 1, you can play, rate, and vote on what games you like best. You can play most games without an itch.io account but making one will let you vote + comment for extra fun.

The Spooktober Jam is organized by a group of people called Devtalk They’re also probably the nucleus for indie visual novels on the internet, at least outside of japan, and they were incredibly supportive in helping me learn how to make my game and helped me network.

Another tidbit of indie news, VN Game Den is maybe the largest Visual Novel/Otome/Romance Game journalism site out there that pays a HUGE amount of attention to small time indie devs, even ones as small as me. They’ve been struggling to pull down sufficient funding for their writers and are on the verge of closing up shop for good. Right now they’re running a last ditch fundraising push to try and recoup server/hosting costs, artist and writer pay, plus social media costs. Running a website with tons of new content daily isn’t cheap and its a lot of hard work. If you have the means, consider donating or spreading the word. Indie Journalism is critical to cultivate in an industry dominated by corporate financial giants.

OKAY i’ve said my piece and done my indies supporting indies shill haha. Thanks for reading!

#progress report #tricitymonsters

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emmanuel-saint · 1 year

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Hi tumblr,

It’s Emmanuel Saint and I’m back again with another brain dump:

If I’m being honest I’ve never thought about what my life would look like past the age of 29. If we’re being more serious I never thought about what it would look like pass the age of 25. There were some things that were bound to happen, like graduate high school. I was more afraid of my mother killing me than failing out of school so graduating was a give. So that cover the beginning of my consciousness up until 18… but everything after that was left up to chance. I mean I had a rough plan for my life (which very quickly fell apart). I wanted to remain a virgin until 18 (lost my virginity at 15). I wanted to be married by 22 (25 close). But the whole rest of my life picture I’ve never actually thought about. I mean, if we’re truly honest, what does happily ever after entail. Morning espressos at your local coffee shop on Sunday mornings watching the neighbor walk their dog? I don’t feel like there is more to life, I know it. But what I do FEEL is that I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t try to get more.

I have to start a new paragraph because I don’t think these two thoughts cohesively flow together. Not that it matters because I’m just typing as I’m thinking anyway. I have accomplished all of the things that I’ve set out to do in my life. I mean truly set out to do. I’ve walked on to a college basketball team. I love basketball with all my heart but I am far too much of a realist to placebo myself into making it into the NBA. But there was one very lofty goal that I did set for my self nearly 12 years ago. I remember flipping open my T-Mobile sidekick (man I loved those and I wish they’d bring them back) and beginning to type. It was the beginning of my journaling experience. I never knew what to write but I knew I had way too many thoughts than to keep in my head so I would just write. That day in my mothers kitchen, I wrote I want to learn six languages by the time I turn 30. Looking back I see how ridiculous that sounds. Most Americans don’t learn TWO languages in their lifetime let alone SIX by the time they are 2 sophomores years old. But I’m my defense I was already fluent in English(1) and, at that time, I had already taken 3 years of high school Spanish(2 it will count later, not at this time, later for sure though). I was also planning on sticking to Latin based languages so the differences wouldn’t be soooooo insurmountable. If I remember correctly I wanted to do English, Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese (I watched a lot of anime 😬). But I had no idea the kind of manifesting that one note had on me. I gave college the old college try, and fucking hated it. I mean it wasn’t absolutely unbearable. I could have gotten through it if I was poor or arrogant-another story for another day. But I didn’t. I very poetically dropped out on my birthday. Yay happy birthday. Needless to say I’m not the biggest fan of birthdays. By this time I am still fluent in English (thank god right?) and 4 years of high school and a half semester of college Spanish (still had never had a conversation outside of a controlled environment so still didn’t count but it will I promise).

Ok, so, boom, I dropped out worked for a bit. Some jobs were pretty cool, others were pretty shitty I’m looking at you Toys’R Us. But eventually I found my way into this pretty sweet gig where this agency will teach me a language and practical skills to be an interpreter (Spanish interpreter here I come). Joke is on me. They only really need Arabic interpreters. That’s cool so I learn Arabic الحمدلله . Then they ask if I want to make more money. Sounds weird so I ask what’s the catch? They say I have to learn French to better help with my Arabic interpretation because most Arabic speakers also mix in some French. Well, ok, they’re gonna pay me for it so why not? Right?! So boom here I am learning French. This is actually tres cool. I learn a bunch of common English words like souvenir are actually French. I feel all smart and shit. Oh mind you that im also working on my bachelors degree, and with that I am taking an intro to computer science class which I thought would be about the basics of computers. Nope! It was a coding class. Now I’m dabbling in C++, Java, and HTML.

Oh I forgot to mention that I improved my Spanish speaking ability based off of a bet that I had with my friend. He essentially said that my Spanish would never be as good as his. And he is probably right because he’s Venezuelan but I never back down from a challenge. So now I am natively fluent in English(1) pretty good with Spanish(2), Arabic(3), French(4), and some coding(5). And yes coding counts as a language because it’s how computers talk. Duh. After a while my company comes back and says “Hey bud you’re pretty good at this. Wanna learn another language? Once again, not one to shy away from a challenge. So they taught me Korean. It’s all pretty crazy how it happened and I never intended on it going this way but it did.

It all started from a T-Mobile sidekick note telling myself that I want to learn six languages by the time that I turn thirty. And the sole reason was because girls find things attractive that they don’t understand.

#manefesting #bilingual #multilingual #polyglot #arabic #french #spanish #korean #sidekick #vent #random thoughts #stream of consciousness

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besthomeservicesforu · 1 year

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This is why 75% of Coffee Shop fails in their first year. In this video, I'm gonna cover the top five reasons why Coffee Shop fails in their first year, so then that way you can avoid them at all cost. When building out your coffee shop, make sure you guys keep watching. Hello, friends. My name is Wilson, Your friend in helping you build a profitable small business and a thriving food business, how many of you guys are looking into creating a coffee shop?

Let me know in the comments below. One of the biggest dreams out there for everyone is to create a coffee shop. They think it's easy. They think it's simple, and they think it's laid back to do so. However, creating a successful cafe is way more than creating a good cup of coffee. You need the right business fundamentals, and that's the reason why you have to pay attention to the top five.

Most common reasons why coffee shops fail in the first year, let's. The number one reason why coffee shop fails is because of poor management. When it comes to management, we're talking about management of staff. That means people are hiring other staff based on just availability. They're not hiring people based on values.

When you don't hire based on values, what do you do? You end up inviting bad apples, which poisons all your good apples. That means. Then you're inviting people to come in to steal from you. You're inviting people to come in to comp their friends, and thus jacking up your costs of good souls. That means it's coming money out of your pocket.

In addition to that, you're inviting a toxic environment in your culture. That means that these bad apples, they're gonna start talking and spreading rumors. Turns into higher turnover. What does turnover mean? That means these people are quitting because they don't enjoy the culture that they're in. They don't enjoy the place that they're working in, and this will cost you thousands of dollars in hiring new staff, training new staff, and it is just a really, really big reason why coffee shops fail in the first place.

In addition to that, when you hire based on the wrong culture, what happens is that your staff is not. When they're not happy, when they're not fulfilled and satisfied, this translates to their interaction with your customers. That's giving your customers bad experience. All in all, when you invite the wrong people in your organization, specifically the ones that don't match your culture and your values,

That's a really big problem why people fail in their first year. Nick's problem when it comes to management is the poor management of inventory. When you don't order enough ingredients, you don't have enough to sell. Thus, limiting how much you can make. Vice versa, If you overorder, you're gonna have a ton of spoilage, which increases your cost of good salts.

That means decreasing the money you take home and in your pocket. That's the reason why. Proper good inventory management is so important to make sure that you are making money in your coffee shop. And finally, when treating vendors, a lot of people mismanage their vendors because they see them as people that they pay.

They don't see them as partners that they can grow with, and thus they don't build their relationship with them. They don't treat them with respect. And thus, when these vendors have good stuff, they're not gonna send it your way when you need help. And when you need favors from them, they're not gonna help you out.

And that's the reason why having proper vendor relationship is so important. Case in point, we have a very, very good relationship with our vendors who are supplying us with cups. A few years back there was a strike within our own area and thus a lot of different bubble tea places didn't have cups to supply and to sell their bubble tea.

If you need a Mobile cafe for your next event in Sydney follow this link https://mobilecafesydney.com

But because we had an exceptional relationship with our vendors, The remaining stock that they have, we were able to get some of it, which allowed us to keep selling our products. That's the reason why having a great vendor relationship is everything when managing your coffee shop. The second reason why mo's Coffee shop fail is because of bad location.

When it comes to a coffee shop, it is really about the right location. A lot of times when you can secure a good location with high. Then the chances of likelihood of success is definitely much higher because with a coffee shop, this is all about a volume game. You're selling a very low ticketed item, and that means you need a lot of traffic in order for you to be profitable, in order for you to pay for rent and labor.

So if you do not have the budget to be located in a high, High foot traffic area. Then it really comes down to the characteristics of the neighborhood that you're in. Some characteristics that you need to pay attention to is the accessibility. Let's say if you're targeting high school or university school students, then you must be located near public transit.

Let's say if you are targeting families, then you must be in located in a place that is relatively. Let's say if you're located at a space where not a lot of residential people are, then who can you sell to? That's the reason why, especially in today's age, you must choose a location that has a high residential density.

That means that a lot of people are living around that area. Even though you don't have a lot of walk-by traffic, there's a lot of people living around that area. Thus, you can cater to them through third party delivery apps. All in all, The secret to the right location is understanding the characteristics of your location and being able to play that to your strengths.

If you have high foot traffic, then play that to your strengths. If you're in a neighborhood, then definitely play that to your strengths. So understanding this allows you to build the right product and allows you to serve your customer that much. If you guys enjoyed this video and find value in this video, make sure you guys smash the like button and let me know this is the type of content that you enjoy.

Now, back to regular programming. The third reason why most coffee shop fails is because they have no uniqueness. What do I mean by that? When they come into your coffee shop, what makes you different? Now a lot of people are thinking about, Hey, what makes us different is because we are convenient. We're.

Well, I'm telling you, if I were to want cheap, if I were to want convenience, I can make instant coffee at home for only 20 cents. Why would I want to come to your coffee shop? You must provide an experience for me. You must provide something different that I cannot get anywhere else. What is that experience like?

It could be something very magical when they come in. There's something new every time. It could be something. Home away from home, you get this feeling of, Wow, this is a very comfortable place. Or this could be a very sophisticated place where you serve very specific coffee. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what you choose.

What matters is that you are occupying a specific mind space in your customer's eyes, and that's how you're gonna be able to get lots of customers coming through the. Now when you're thinking about how do I create this mind space and what are you talking about, mind space? Well, we actually created an hour long free master class, which you can attend in the link below where I talk to you and share with you specifically how to create the mind space.

So then that way your customers will always choose you over your competitors. Definitely check it out in the link below. The fourth reason why most coffee shop business fail is because they don't know their numbers. So many people, They work super, super hard. They see money coming in, but at the end of the month when they look at their bank statement, they're looking at $50 cash in their bank only, or even worse in the reds.

That's the difference between a successful businessman and one that is not successful, one that actually closes their coffee shop in their first year. Do you know your break even rate? Do you know your turnover rate? Do you know your average? Value. Just imagine for a second how many cups of coffee you need to sell.

If all you're making is 25 cents per cup of coffee, that's a lot of freaking coffee you need to sell. And that's the reason why you must know your numbers. So then that way you know which levers to pull on in order for you to make more money. As an example, you can introduce complimentary or replacement items such as bakery, spa.

Food items to go items in order for you to be more profitable. That is one lever you can pull as an additional lever. You can actually look at how much output per hour all your staff is doing, how much are they making per hour for you, and if they're not maximized, then definitely you can stagger their shift in order for you to save some money there.

In addition to that, you can be a little bit more creative with your hours of operation. If in the first hour all you're selling is only a couple cup of coffees and making couple quarters, then perhaps you can actually cut those hours shorter, so then that way you are actually serving the people that are actually making you money.

As an example, when we first started our ice cream shop, we were selling $7 ice creams, but when we started to introduce a $2 cone, our. Went up by three times. And on top of that, it is much easier for us to create. Now when we are talking about this, you might be thinking, $7 ice cream must be making a lot more money than my $2 cones.

It is actually not true. The profits that we make from a $7 ice cream versus a $2 ice cream is exactly the same because with a $7 ice cream, there was a lot of Costa good salts. We need to pay for extra packaging dry. Extra toppings and all this amounts to a big sum, which in turn, we were only making a dollar 50 out of the $7.

Whereas when we're selling a cone, all we were selling was the waffle cone and the ice cream on top, and that was it. Thus, the cost was substantially lower and us making a dollar 50 on this different item when we're selling two different items, yet both of them making the same amount. Which one would you want to sell?

Of course, the $2 one, because it is much more profitable. This is just an example of the levers that you can pull when you know your numbers. So definitely you must know your numbers, and this is the foundation of creating any types of business. You need that business plan of yours, so then that way you can plan for success.

And that's the reason why you should definitely check out this video where I dive deep into how to create a. Coffee shop business plan. We go through all the business foundations, so then that way you can start off on the right foot. The fifth reason why most coffee shops fail in their first year is because of their mindset, the lack of learning and growth mindset that is required to succeed in today's world.

Especially with technology increasing and advancing so rapidly, we must always be in the forefront of seeing how we can serve our customers better, whether it's technology, whether it's menu. Whatever the case is, we must always have that learning mindset.

If you need a Mobile cafe for your next event in Sydney follow this link https://mobilecafesydney.com

More things that you should learn from is to learn how to market, learn the latest strategies to marketing and reaching your customers, whether that be email marketing, whether that be Facebook. Instagram marketing, SMS marketing. These are all things that are constantly evolving, so then that way you can better serve your customers.

Another thing that you can definitely look at is to be involved in this industry and be involved in the communities who are actually giving you tons of value. So definitely being in the right mindset for growth and learning is very important for you to succeed in this in. So there you go. Friends, the top five reasons why most coffee shops fail in their first year.

These are the items that you must avoid at all costs. If you want to create something that is successful, something that you and your family can be proud of, and that's the reason why we created this free masterclass in the link below which you can attend. This is a higher expansion of everything that we talked about today.

We expand on how you can define your. So not only are you connecting with your customers, but you are also connecting with your staff. So then that way you can hire the right people for you and your operations. You can actually start to connect with your customers. So whether you have a bad location, a good location, you can have people that support you over your competitors all the time.

If you need a Mobile cafe for your next event in Sydney follow this link https://mobilecafesydney.com

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problemsandsituations · 2 years

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Digging Deeper

After the fundraiser, Amina and I join Marge at her place to regroup. The money we raised is more than enough to pay for the repairs needed at Rafferty’s.

“You did it girls,” Marge says happily.

“We did it, Marge. We did this together,” Amina reminds her.

“That’s right! Buchanan won’t keep us down,” I add with excitement.

“You really think he did this?” Marge asks me.

“He didn’t do it himself, but he definitely hired someone,” I reply. “They’re gonna take the fall instead of him. All I need is evidence to prove it.”

“The police are doing all they can. We need to stay out of it,” Amina chimes in, looking directly at me.

“They’re not moving fast enough, and whatever I find will help them,” I respond. Amina shifts uncomfortably, then changes the subject.

“Shouldn’t we be celebrating? We just had a successful day! Let’s have some ice cream or some wine…or both,” she suggests.

“I’ll get the ice cream. You go ahead and grab a bottle from downstairs,” Marge instructs Amina. While it’s just the two of us, I question Marge about Amina’s strange behavior.

“What’s up with Amina?” I ask.

“What do ya mean?” Marge asks in response.

“Every time Buchanan comes around or I talk about him she starts acting strange,” I tell her.

“I haven’t noticed,” Marge replies. I don’t believe her. Just as I’m about to press for more information, Amina returns with the wine. I’ll let it go for now.

The next morning I wake up early to search the internet for whatever I can find on Craig Buchanan. All I can find are basic facts. Common knowledge things that everyone already knows. I need to look harder if I’m gonna find evidence to nail him for his crime. Amina shuffles out of my bedroom, still groggy. She walks to the bathroom with her eyes barely open. When returns from the bathroom, she pauses when she sees me, then shuffles back into my bedroom. Amina’s been spending a lot of time at my place lately, not that I mind. We’re best friends; my place is her place. Besides, both of us are in a tough spot right now and we need each other. Once Amina showers and gets dressed, she joins me in the living room.

“How long have you been up?” Amina asks me.

“Since about 5:00,” I answer.

“Are you serious? And you’ve been on your computer this whole time? That’s not good for your eyes,” she tells me in her motherly voice.

“I need to find evidence and I know it’s gonna take a while,” I respond with my eyes locked on the computer screen.

“Still playing detective I see,” she says sarcastically.

“I can’t just let it go, Mina. I know Buchanan has something to do with what happened.”

“Why can’t you just let the police do their job? All you’re doin’ right now is causing yourself and others around you stress.”

“Others being you?” I ask Amina. She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed with me. “This wouldn’t be so ‘stressful’ if you’d help me out. You know more about this guy than I do.”

“No! I’m stayin’ out of this. I already told you I don’t want no trouble with that man.” Amina’s starting to tense up again, then I remember my conversation with Marge.

“What do you know about him that you’re not telling me?” I ask her.

“I already told you what I know. Buchanan is a powerful man and you should not be prying into his business,” she says, still trying to convince me.

“You know more than that. I can tell by the way you act every time he comes around. What’s that about anyway?” I ask her.

“Please let it go. I don’t wanna talk about it,” Amina pleads.

“What are you keeping from me? What are you not telling me?” I ask earnestly.

“DROP IT!” Amina yells at the top of her lungs. “I don’t care about your investigation! I’m not telling you anything and I’m not helping you find anything!” In all my years of knowing Amina, she’s never been this upset with me. “I keep telling you to leave it alone; to leave him alone! But you don’t wanna listen, so you just gotta find out the hard way.” She grabs her purse, quickly puts on her shoes then storms out. I shouldn’t have asked her so many questions. I pushed her too far. Maybe I should listen to her and stop trying to find dirt on Mayor Buchanan, but I can’t. Not yet. The internet isn’t doing anything for me, so I’m taking it to the streets. I take my laptop with me to take notes.

Everyone I try to talk to refuses to say anything about Mayor Buchanan. They’re all too afraid. There has to be someone in this town with enough courage to tell me something I don’t already know. My last stop of the day is the local deli. I know the owner, Sal. Before going inside, I tell myself that if I don’t find anything new after this, I’ll give up on this investigation.

Sal is behind the counter slicing a ham. When he sees me come in, he stops what he’s doing to come greet me at the counter.

“Hey there sweetheart! What can I make for ya?” he asks me.

“I didn’t come to get food, Sal. I came to ask about the mayor,” I tell him, getting straight to the point.

“The mayor? Why ya wanna know anything about him?” he asks me.

“I think he had something to do with what happened at Rafferty’s. I’m trying to find evidence or at least some kind of dirt on him. Something to connect him to this crime. Nobody will talk to me though.” Sal looks around, then looks at me like he’s pondering a life-altering decision. He sighs heavily and invites me to come behind the counter. He leads me to a small room in the back of the store. He turns the light on by pulling a string that’s hanging from the ceiling. He tells me to have a seat while he searches the room; he turns around with a grey shoebox in his hands.

“This is the only conversation we’re gonna have about this, alright? So pay attention,” Sal tells me. “It’s no secret that we don’t like Buchanan, but it’s not because of his leadership skills. He has a...reputation.”

“A reputation for what?” I ask, leaning forward on the stool I’m sitting on.

“Are you recording?” he asks, pointing to my cell phone in my hand.

“No! I can turn it off,” I reply. Sal watches me carefully as I turn my phone off and sit it on the table next to me. I don’t know what he’s about to tell me, but it must be something serious.

“You remember my niece, Penny, right?” Sal asks me.

“Yeah, we were in the same grade,” I recall. I also recall her disappearing right before graduation. I ask Sal what happened to her.

“I hope you’re ready for this.” Sal takes a deep breath, then begins telling me her story. “I don’t know if you remember this, but Penny volunteered at City Hall for a while. She loved it there, but when Buchanan showed up, things changed. One day she came home a wreck. A ball full of tears. I asked her what was wrong; what she told me made my blood boil.”

Sal goes on to tell me that Mayor Buchanan had taken a liking to Penny. He allowed her to work closely with him, and once she turned 18, hired her as his personal assistant. Penny was excited about her new position. She had always desired a career in politics and made it a point to make her ambitions known. To her, working closely with the mayor was a great way to get her foot in the door. However, Buchanan had other plans. One night, he decided to treat his staff to dinner as a way to show his appreciation to them. He spared no expense. He took them to the finest restaurant and let them order whatever they wanted. Once dinner was over, he offered Penny a ride home. On the way to her house, Buchanan took a slight detour. He took Penny to an abandoned park just outside of town to “talk”. Penny became suspicious and asked Buchanan to take her home. When he refused, she desperately begged him. He wouldn’t give in, so Penny tried to escape. Buchanan pulled her back into his car and forced himself onto her. Penny tried her best to fight the mayor off, but he was too strong. He overpowered Penny and raped her.

“He told her, and I quote, ‘in order for women to get to the top, they have to get under the men’. Disgusting son of a bitch, he is,” Sal tells me. His face is red with anger. For him, telling the story is reliving the whole incident. Now my blood is boiling. I remember Penny so well. She was intelligent, full of ambition, focused and innocent...completely innocent.

“So what did you do?” I ask Sal.

“I did what any guardian with a heart would do, I confronted the bastard! I told him he was wrong for what he did to my Penny, and that I was going to the police. He didn’t like that at all. Next thing you know, he’s got his security sittin’ outside of the deli and my house. They kept a close watch on me and Penny for about two weeks until I told them the news,” Sal continues.

“What news?” I ask. Sal reaches inside the shoebox and hands me a sonogram.

“No...” I say, shaking my head.

“Yup,” Sal confirms with a heavy sigh. “I’ll never forget the day Penny showed me that positive test. We knew it was his right away. I sent word to Buchanan through his security. The next day they show up with a fat check and a list.”

“A list of what?” I ask.

“Doctors, clinics and foster homes,” Sal answers. “He wanted Penny to get rid of the baby and he didn’t care how, as long as she kept quiet about it. He sent her enough money to cover whatever she chose to do. At first Penny was scared. She didn’t know what to do. She decided to go against Buchanan’s wishes and keep the baby.”

Just when I think the story can’t get any worse, Sal goes on.

“When Buchanan found out, he came to me directly and told me I needed to make the situation go away. The nerve of this guy leaving it to me to clean up his mess! I didn’t know what to do, but Penny had come up with a plan of her own. She chose to go live with my Ma. She didn’t take any of Buchanan’s money with her either. She told me to keep it and use it for myself. I think about my Penny every single day. I miss her so much...” Sal’s eyes well up with tears. He sits the gray box down on the table and starts sobbing. My heart aches for him. What Buchanan put Sal and Penny through is downright despicable! Once Sal is able to gather himself, he says, “I hope this gives you an idea of the kind of man you’re dealin’ with. He doesn’t take too kindly to people trying to expose him. There’s been rumors about him doin’ the same thing to other young women in this town. No one ever came forward so there’s no solid proof, but I know it’s true. Penny was only his first victim; I know there’s been more.”

Sal & Penny’s story has me reconsidering whether or not I should keep investigating. If Buchanan went to such great lengths to keep them quiet, what will he do to me if he finds out I’m going around town asking about him? I thank Sal for sharing Penny’s story with me as he leads me back out to the deli.

“You still like the Italian sub with everything on it?” he asks me. “Take one with ya, it’s on me.”

“Sal, you don’t have to make me anything,” I tell him. He leans in and whispers, “They might still be watching.” Sal lets me take a soda and chips to go with my sub then sends me on my way. During the drive back home I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. I look around and don’t see anyone, but I feel a presence. Sal’s just got me paranoid. I get to my place and before I can even sit on the couch there’s a knock on my door. When I open it, Officer Roy is outside with a distressed look on his face.

“Hey Officer Roy. Do you have any news?” I ask him.

“No, I actually came here for you. I need to confiscate your computer,” he says.

“My computer? For what?” I ask defensively.

“I have a warrant to search the premises for it if you’re unwilling to hand it over. I’m sorry, I’m just following direct orders.” I can tell Officer Roy doesn’t really want to do this, so I make it easy for him. I take my computer out of my bag and hand it over to him. He thanks me for my cooperation then leaves. I guess I chose the perfect time to quit snooping.

#ProblemAndSituations #chapter 6 #writers on tumblr

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punk-pins · 3 years

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wouldn’t it be funny if the high school my chem used for the i’m not okay video was a catholic school. that’s a joke I would’ve made before I found out that it actually is one.

#they used two different high schools but yeah one is a catholic school #sorry kids we’ll be having our bible study club meeting in a different room this Saturday #bc some evil and corrupted apostates are here to play rock music #now I know we told you that punk nonsense is the music of the devil #and is not allowed in our holy spaces #but they’re paying us a lot of money so we’re just gonna let it happen #I’m not okay music video #my chemical romance #mcr #revenge era #txtpst #three cheers for sweet revenge #cw: catholicism

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thebibliosphere · 3 years

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Joy, I don't understand. It seems these days people make fan content specifically to make money and wouldn't make it otherwise. How do I stop myself from being rude and saying "well, what did you think was gonna happen?" to the next youtube community post I see stating they won't be posting edits anymore due to demonitization? I'm sure some of them mean well, but it really feels like people feel entitled to be paid for their fan work that they could potentially be sued for these days. Am I the one that's wrong? Is thinking that fan works should be made in your spare time purely for the love of it cynical of me?

I think the landscape of fandom has shifted so much over the last five to ten years that a lot of people, especially younger fans, don’t understand the precarious legal foothold fandom has. A large part of this is that fandom became more mainstream around about the same time as “monetize your hobbies!” hustle culture. Fandom is a hobby; ergo, you can earn a living from it.

Except not really, because while many people’s views toward fandom have changed, the legalities of fanwork haven’t. Oh, some big time creators might embrace fan art (hey, free marketing!) but they still can’t let you earn money from it. Which doesn’t mean some people don’t, it just means we cannot be seen to be making money from fan content. That’s what keeps our work and our community safe. It’s bullshit, I fully believe that it is, but it’s also the reality of the situation and that’s how fandom survives. It might feel mainstream, but we’re still the very much the kid busking on the corner of a conglomerate’s doorstep.

And for some people, fandom is just truly a hobby, and they have zero interest in monetizing it and that’s fine, more power to them. But I’m also never going to turn around and say people should never earn money from fandom. For one thing, it’d make me a raging hypocrite as I have accepted donations for fic when we couldn’t afford groceries. Fandom kept us afloat when all other lifelines fell through. Fandom has and always will support and take care of our own. What I do think, however, is that fan creators need to be aware of the legalities of what they’re doing and be much smarter about how they tag, title, and promote things, especially on places like YouTube, where big companies spend unimaginable amounts of time and money scanning videos for copyright content. (NB: this does not mean copyright is evil. Copyright is often the only thing protecting the work of small-time creators against big creators from stealing their work without compensation. Looking at you, #Disney Must Pay.)

So do I think people are entitled from wanting to earn money from fan content? No. Do I think a lot of younger fandom creators have lost the understanding of fandom from a legal aspect? Absolutely. Many of them grew up with fandom as a norm. It is permanent to them. They never woke up one day to find all their content gone over night because the server got hit with a cease and desist letter from a litigious creator. So without that context, it’s jarring when it does happen. And it’s very easy for a lot of us old-timers (I say, while my 70 year old SW fandom friends pat me on the head like a toddler) to roll our eyes because, of course, you cannot monetize fandom. But I think it’s more important for us to go hey, yeah, that’s been happening since paper print fanzines, shit sucks... but here’s how you build a supportive community anyway...

tl;dr: the cultural perception of fandom has changed, but not the legalities of it, which is confusing to a lot of younger folks who have all been told repeatedly to monetize their hobbies, so I don’t blame them for being pissed and confused when they do just that and get hit with a copyright strike from YT.

#castleintheskye #fandom #rambling

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake.

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful.

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much.

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps.

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok.

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce.

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way.

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

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amazingphilza · 3 years

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twitchcon :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some mcyt headcanons if you were to attend twitchcon w them

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

cw: kinda lengthy for the minors (i think), not as much for the hags LMAO /hj

tommyinnit

this man is so excited to be at his first twitchcon & being able to hang out with all his best friends makes it a hundred times better

when he isn’t at a panel or doing meet & greets, he’s dragging you everywhere to see the whole convention center (clingyinnit)

he is just so at awe despite this not being his first convention to attend

you’d be surprised he gets tired pretty quickly & stops over to the partner lounge

you both rest for a bit against a wall in a pretty packed hallway despite it being an exclusive area to twitch partners

every time a famous streamer walks by he will yell it out and record it then vlog your reaction, even if they’re surrounded with bodyguards & trying to get to another place quickly

he’d zoom in his camera to their face at a horrible angle and be like

“oh my god it is THE ninja. ninja famous fortnite player, HELLO.”

but he gets completely ignored

then the camera pans out to you, still really zoomed in that the capture is blurry

“ninjainnit?”

“EH?”

tommy is so confused, forgetting the bit ninja did on his twitter where he renamed himself ‘ninjainnit’ for a split second

okay tommy isn’t that athletic but he will chase you and the rest of your group down a hallway if he had to

he’d probably find a toy gun from the artist alley/seller booths and shoot you and wilbur with it

but if tommy stumbles across any of the dream team, it’s about to be minecraft manhunt but irl

and he will def play his stream music while walking or smth when he’s bored (or trying to jump dream & sapnap)

** DO DO DO DO MANHUNT MUSIC **

oh my god,, now thinking about it he’s probably the one to open like random doors of empty rooms and steal stuff while you film him

like he will take a random empty glass, a bunch of pens, a freebie t-shirt, everything he sees he takes with him and you’re just panic

“tommy we’re literally not supposed to be here, and i’m stuck here filming you. it’s surely a felony in action”

“well, it’s their fault for leaving the doors open! plus this is great content. who’s the dirty crime boy now, HM?”

you’d tell wilbur about this and he’d scold tommy and threaten him with the same pen tommy stole

tommy probably would also drag you some weird event happening outside twitchcon along with tubbo and ranboo

“pokimane is giving out free pizza to everyone if we go to this one restaurant down the street!”

“we are literally gonna get bombarded. have you forgot you’re like three of twitch’s top streamers? i’d rather pay for all of our meals than try getting free pizza from pokimane against all her other fans”

“DEAL! let’s go to five guys then!”

you unfortunately end up paying for all 3 of their meals and picking on their food instead of buying your own

even with all of them making way more money than you, they still happen to be cheapskates

OR tommy will end up getting a burrito from a taco truck, immediately making a mess of himself, then proceed to complain how messy the food is to eat despite knowing what he was getting himself into before even ordering

“shit my clothes are all ruined now!”

“well that’s your fault you got a burrito, as if it’s your first time having one”

“i mean the food is good, i’m not complaining about that but i don’t think it’s that good that it’s worth costing my red and white shirt, im just saying”

tubbo

same with tommy, he is so excited

i don’t know why but i imagine him overpacking his suitcase and you making fun of him for it

anyway tubbo has his irl backpack on and streaming EVERYTHING

probably spends a lot of time at a bunch of different booths, checking out all the pointless gadgets he could buy for his stream

you’re the one to stop him from doing so

“TUBBO IT’S LITERALLY OVER TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, STOP. DONT GET IT.”

“WHY NOT?? IT WILL BE COOL FOR MY STREAM AND I WILL USE IT EVERYDAY”

“okay theoretically speaking, how the hell are you going to even bring it home? which—let me remind you—is across the country for you and not to mention the giant ocean separating america and the uk”

“free ship-pang!!!”

“i hate to break it to you tubbo but there is no way you can get free shipping on a FIVE FOOT PC. it’s nearly as tall as you! what are you even gonna do on it, hack the government???”

the arguments are all lighthearted but eventually you give in and let him splurge over a thousand dollars in different devices he claimed he “needed”

i could honestly see him visiting the beaches in san diego and going for a swim or even renting out a boat to use for a bit :D

also he’d bring benson along with him and taking a bunch of scenic photos with it in them

i have a feeling he’s the type to schedule a spontaneous meet & greet because he was bored & gets in trouble for causing a mob in a certain part of the convention

he’s like “oh god, i did not expect this many of the bois to show up AHAHAH oops”

tubbo would def pull a lilypichu and bring his melodica or ukulele and play themes while following random people/cosplayers

at the end of the day, you’d find his bag just stuffed with crap he either got for free or bought in the convention

“how did you get all that stuff? i was with you all day??? and it’s only the first day of the convention, hello?? it looks like you’ve been collecting as if twitchcon has went on for a week already!”

“HA i have my ways, do not underestimate my powers”

lani would probably tag along for the vacation honestly

like whenever someone comes up to her giving her gifts/asking for pics, you and tubbo would tease her about how famous she is

and i dunno but something about tubbo just gives me this amusement park energy and going to legoland and spending the whole day there since it’s near by and because he can

ranboo

he is like a beacon in a sea of people, that’s it .

i honestly just see him causing as much chaos as the other two

ranboo would probably like take someone’s camera whether if they’re streaming or if it’s for the vlog, hold it up high, and point the camera directly above someone’s face

it did not matter how tall you were and if you had platform shoes on, ranboo was a skyscraper next to you

“HAHAH this is how i see you from this height, this is funny”

then he shows you the vid of the recording of him getting like an aerial view of your face

like you see your nose and all your pores and just overall a bad angle to be captured in

“OH GOD RANBOO DELETE THAT, ITS HORRIFIC”

i dunno why but i feel like he’d jump scare every person that was cosplaying as his minecraft character from behind for some reason

“BOO!”

“ranboo i’m not even remotely dressed as your skin—”

“don’t worry i’m practicing it’s fineee”

“you’re like the height of 2 people combined, i think you will be fine as is. you even intimidated the security at the front”

i feel like if he had his own panel he’d like pull up some undertale song in the middle of it and scare all the people in the crowd

“lore but in real life”

probably would get some matching keepsake with you from artist alley/the booths!

i could imagine like a cute keychain or smth :D

i feel like he’s the type to like randomly volunteer as a participant for those mini events in a booth thinking it would be funny but regrets it the moment he’s on stage

after introductions the presenter is like “okay ranboo, you will be given a random meme prompt above your head you won’t be able to see until after and you will have to make a random face to compliment it!”

and you can just tell by his facial expression he’s just thinking

oh god what have i gotten myself into

what is this game? who came up with this idea?

you’d laugh at him the whole time, even after he’s off the stage and finished with that small fiasco

“that was horrible. never again.”

“AHAHAH IT LOOKED SO AWKWARD YOU DID GREAT”

“I CROSSED MY EYES AND PUFFED MY CHEEKS BECAUSE I COULDNT THINK OF ANY OTHER FACIAL EXPRESSION. THE PROMPT ENDING UP BEING ‘WHEN TWITTER CANCELS YOU FOR USING PLASTIC STRAWS.’ AND WHEN I SAW WHAT IT WAS—LITERALLY WHAT KIND OF GAME–”

“I GOT PICTURES AND EVERYTHING ITS PERFECT AHAHAHAH”

wilbur soot

honestly with wilbur it’s slightly more chill

he already experienced twitchcon before so he’s just glad to see his friends again after so long

insists that you explore the convention yourself rather than sticking with him the whole time but you do anyway!

wilbur would probably have like a mini concert and gets you front row seats with the rest of the group

but that doesn’t mean before it that you’re not helping him set up

“y/n please– my amp is so heavy, i can carry it”

“don’t worry! i’m strong” :D

and musically talented or not, he will probably bring you and the rest of his friends up to stage to just vibe and sing a bunch of random acoustic songs

it’s not like some big concert hall stage,, i imagine more like a casual thing w a slightly higher platform from the ground yk?

after spending a long day at the convention he’d also bring everyone across the city to la jolla or smth !

you’d all probably have dinner there and chill, watching the pretty sunset

“this place is really pretty but oh my god im gonna lose my breath hiking up this stupid hill, please slow down”

and wilbur is like ??? because he’s completely fine with his long legs and everything

“just walk faster”

“no, you walk slower”

AHAHAH and for context traversing through la jolla by walking around the town is a bit hard since it’s basically on a bunch of hills (walking up from the beach to a restaurant actually is actually sm work, trust me ive been there)

wilbur honestly doesn’t spend that much time in the actual convention center, he’s probably sightseeing a bit of san diego with you instead

but i could imagine him staying at the tabletop games area playing dnd or smth

“c’mon y/n, come join!”

“uhh i’m not sure, i’m not the best at roleplay and...”

“it’s fine don’t worry!”

he’d pull you in with him and end up enjoying yourself even if it was your first time

and if you’re of age, you’d be wilbur’s +1 at the twitch partner party and make sure mans doesn’t too drunk

if it’s not too late in the night, you two would chill at the beach after the party

it’s just a nice, calming moment after all the loud music mixed with hundreds of conversations at the party

also something about like taking polaroids pictures with wilbur just seems to go hand in hand for me

i’m not sure why but you will be taking lots of pics with wilbur for sure (not necessarily you both in the photo, but of sceneries as well while you’re together!)

philza

literally a dad on vacation with his children, it doesn’t matter how old you are

need sunscreen? surprisingly has it

want a snack? probably has a small granola bar somewhere in his bag

but same with wilbur, he’s more chill like this isn’t his first time at twitchcon

omg he’d def bring you to the artist alley and just buy a bunch of fanart and stuff tho

“oh wow look phil, someone made a giant poster of the dream smp and shit!”

“holy shit that’s so good what the fuck!”

and he’s like rushing to that artist’s stall to buy a poster or print

idk why but phil seems like the person to know where he’s going all over the convention center

he probably had a copy of the directory map but yk

you just have trouble reading it bc all the signs seem to be misleading to you

nothing really crazy screams out to me of what phil would do at twitchcon besides like go to a few events, spend a bunch of time w his friends, etc

HOWEVER i could see him wasting a lot of his time at the gaming area and testing new games that are currently on the works of being developed

like “woah y/n, this vr game is sick, you should try it out!”

ngl i feel like phil would plan a visit to disneyland for everyone, like he gets the tickets and everything but once you’re at the park it’s free reign, y’all go everywhere with not much of a plan

the minors would try to cheap out phil and pay less than the others even though everyone else fully paid phil back and everything LMAO

ok but if he’s feeling nice, phil will buy everyone cotton candy/pretzels :D

and if you’re not hungry, he’d at least get you a mickey balloon

HE WILL HAVE MATCHING MICKEY EARS WITH MUMZA YES .

ALSO STAYING FOR THE FIREWORKS THOUGH OMG

just in general, best idea phil had for taking everyone to disneyland :D

technoblade

surprisingly techno is really calm despite this being like one of his first conventions

but when he finally settles in and gets comfortable, he’s showing the same energy

if you’re playfully yelling, he will yell back

however there’s still those awkward moments that are unavoidable

idk why but something about him makes me think that if you feel tired and want to go back to your hotel room, he’d go with you just to make sure you get there safe

he probably also needs a break from being around everyone else for a moment too LMAO

i could also see him searching far and wide in the artist alley for fanart of himself AHAHAH

walking around with him in the convention consists of someone yelling “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD” every 5 minutes but you don’t really mind

something about him makes me think he’ll be forced into playing minecraft twitch rivals along with the rest of sbi or smth

and he’s like “oh god, i’m going to be on stage? and people will see my face while i play minecraft?”

“i’m sure it will be fun!”

“i mean i like being competitive and feeding my ego, but i’m not that desperate.. well”

do i imagine techno getting easily tired of being surrounded by a bunch of people and just going back to his hotel room with phil and watching some anime with him? yes

and will you watch even if you have no idea what’s going on? also yes

i feel like after a while of you guys hanging out in techno’s room, the rest of the gang will just slowly join you guys

like eventually everyone is there; you, techno, phil, wilbur, niki, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, etc

and techno is like “wha– where did you guys come from?” because his room is basically packed

and niki could be like “oh we can go if you want!”

then techno just insists that she’s fine “but who let the child get in?” clearly implying tommy’s presence

“OI!!”

eventually techno gives in with the company and someone gets a bunch of board games to play from the front desk

lots of yelling and laughing for sure

when it becomes late at night, techno is like half conscious, you’re on your phone, wilbur is staring out the window & enjoying the night view, tommy is passed out on the couch from tiredness, tubbo & ranboo is still wide awake quietly talking, and phil & niki are helping clean up the giant mess

eventually everyone brings themselves to go back to their own room except tommy who won’t budge

you give techno a look and he immediately understands what you were thinking

he rushes to the bathroom to fill up two cups with ice cold water and handed one to you

“on three?”

“okay.. one”

“two”

“three!”

then both of you pour the water on the poor child’s face

he jolts awake and saying a string of curses

“what the fuck techno? y/n too?”

“get out” is the only think techno says that before tommy rushes out with his stuff and you leave right after

a/n: i honestly can’t wait until conventions open up again though,, phil and ranboo were talking about vidcon earlier and omg.

also i kinda want to take in tommy requests but i’m not sure??? it would be both cc! and c! x gn!reader for sure tho. i love writing him to bits but who knows, maybe i’ll only stick to my ideas,, or not. send in a tommy x reader request, might do it, might not, but he’s my fav cc if you can’t tell so! :D (i dunno if i will keep it strictly platonic, but unrequited crushes and stuff are fun to write hehe,,)

edit: let’s hope i fixed all the grammar mistakes LMAO we love writing late at night :) /s /hj

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fictionalwh0ree · 3 years

Note

could i request a jj imagine where they’re both pogues and he’s comforting the reader while she’s crying because maybe her family gets robbed either from their home or they own a small shack business and her parents ask her to give her last few paychecks to pay bills but her paycheck was to buy things for jj for his birthday and she feels super bad when it’s his actual birthday and everyone got him a gift and hers is something small but she made him the cake

and she’s really down but hides it for his bday and when they’re in private she apologizes profusely about it and he’s like “what do you mean this was the best day ever”

and he’s trying his best to comfort her because he knows that the pogue life is always tough financially nd gets exaggerated and is like “don’t worry baby, one day we’re gonna go full kook and i’ll buy you anything you wnd want youll forget about being so sad” and it ends in fluffff sorry i got carried away lol

bracelet- jj maybank

summary: your family's store gets robbed, forcing you to hand over the paychecks you were going to use to get your boyfriend's birthday gift. when his birthday comes, all you had was something small and you were worried he wouldn't like it.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

a/n: ahh im sorry it took so long to get out! i hope you enjoy tho :)

you had just finished your shift at work and were walking to your family's small diner/gift shop by the beach. you had your headphones in, humming along to the music playing.

as you approached the entrance of the diner, you could feel something was off. it was empty all around you. you glanced down at your phone, the movement turning it on to reveal the date and time. it was a saturday afternoon, a hot one at that. the place should've been busy, busier than every other day of the week.

you turned your music off and slowly opened the main door. your brows furrowed as you looked around. some stools had been tipped over, but that was about it.

"mom?" you called out.

"mom?" you said again, walking into the kitchen.

there she stood crying into your father's shoulder. your brother stood in the corner, his eyes blank.

"what's wrong?" you asked.

she looked up at you and her lips quivered before she let out another sob, turning her head back into your father's chest.

"seriously, what happened?" you asked, your worry growing.

"we were robbed," your father spoke.

"what?" you asked.

"your mom was at the cash and a man came in with a gun," he explained.

"what did they take?" you asked, slowly looking between your father and brother.

"the money. all of it," your brother said.

you were speechless. without money, your diner would close, taking away your whole family's main source of income. you felt some tears fall from your eyes and run down your cheeks. they kept falling silently as you thought about what would happen.

"they left most of the merchandise," your dad added.

you looked down, fidgeting with your bracelet. you had spent lots of your free time making these to sell in the shop. they usually had small charms with reminders of the outer banks. the tourists loved them.

you remembered your paychecks that you had meant to cash out in your bag. you rummaged through it until you found them. you handed them to your parents.

"here, i know it's not that much, but it should be enough to keep us afloat until we make up some more money," you said.

your mom began shaking her head.

"we can't take that, you earned it," she said.

"you guys need it more than i do. i'll make it back eventually," you said.

“thank you,” your mom says.

you helped your family clean up the store for a little while when you received a text.

jj:

hey

r u busy rn?

you:

not really

jj:

wanna come over?

you:

sure :)

you grabbed your keys and hopped into your dads car, with his permission of course, and drove to jj’s. you looked at yourself in the rearview mirror and wiped away the tear stains that were left. your eyes were still a bit puffy and you hoped jj wouldn't notice. you walked straight into his house and placed your bag on his couch next to him. you sat down and placed a kiss on his lips.

"hi," you smiled, plopping down on the couch next to him.

"fancy seeing you here," he said, turning to you.

you scoffed as he examined your face subtly.

"what's wrong?" he asked.

"what?" you asked.

"your eyes are sorta red and puffy. were you crying?"

"it's nothing, jj," you assured.

"well if you were crying over it, then it's not noting," he reasoned.

"it's not a big deal," you said.

"come on," he pushed.

"the store was robbed," you admitted.

"what? were you there? are you hurt? is everyone okay? did they ta-" he began bombarding you with questions.

"1. no i was not there. 2. i'm fine, nobody was hurt. 3. yes, everyone's just a bit overhwelmed, i think. they didn't take much besides cash, but it'll all be okay," you said.

"are you sure?" he checked.

"yes," you confirmed.

he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side. you two laid there watching tv for a couple hours. jj mindlessly played with your bracelet, one of the ones you had made. he had once told you how much he liked them, but it was early on in your relationship so you never gave him one.

when you got home, you went straight to your room. hanging on your cork board was a calendar. one day stood out, it had a large red circle around it. jj's birthday, which had totally slipped your mind. you had been saving up your paychecks to get him a good, meaningful gift. something that would last, which meant expensive. you sighed and sat at your desk, rubbing your temples and trying to calm yourself down.

your breaths got shakier and a couple whimpers left your lips as you sobbed silently, finally letting out all your built up stress. you looked around your room and spotted your plastic organizer filled with beads, small pendants and charms. although it wasn't ideal, you settled on making you two matching bracelets. tomorrow was a saturday, which meant no school or work. you stayed up late making you two bracelets. you spent all of the next day making him a cake. you baked and decorated it simply. it was cute but wasn't super complex.

the day of jj's birthday came and you had just finished the bracelets the night before. the pogues were all going to jj's for lunch, planning on surfing in the afternoon, going home to shower and then going to a party in the cut in the evening.

you got read, doing your hair, make-up and wearing an outfit jj had previously said he loved on you. you had called kie to drive you, so the cake wouldn't get damaged. you two were the last to arrive at the house. the first thing you did was put the cake in the fridge and hide your small gift somewhere in his room for later.

"hi, baby," you greeted, giving him a kiss.

"hi," he said into the kiss.

"happy birthday," you smiled.

"thank you," he pulled you into a hug.

"do i get birthday sex this year, too, or?" he whispered into your ear, kissing down your jaw.

"break it up, you have time for that tonight," john b yelled.

you flipped him off before pulling away.

"come on, the pizza's getting cold," you said.

after the pizza was done, kie went to get the cake. she placed it on the table and john b pulled a little party hat out from his backpack. he placed it on jj's head, even though he refused. you all sang happy birthday, pope recording. kie had also brought a disposable camera, which she had been using to take cute photos. you all had a slice of cake, sounds of delight coming from the pogues.

"is the cake good?" you asked.

"so good," jj said, his mouth stuffed to the brim with semi-chewed food.

"you could've waited to swallow to answer," you giggled, licking your thumb to wipe off a smudge of cake that was by his cheek.

"sorry," he smiled, close-lipped.

you rolled your eyes jokingly. once the cake was done, john b, kie, and pope gave jj his gifts. you had told him yours was for later, which he obviously assumed was sex. you put on a smile as he opened his gifts. in your eyes, the pogues gifts had been 10x better than what you had given him. their gifts had been bigger and more expensive than yours, your smile faltered a bit.

after the long surf break, which went until around 7 pm, the three other pogues left. you began washing the dishes and you could see jj staring at you. you knew what he wanted.

you have to give it to him eventually, you thought. as you walked to the bedroom, you could see him following you like a lot puppy.

"i'm assuming you want your gift?" you said, your 'confidence' never faltering.

he nodded his head eagerly. you picked up the small box and handed it to him. he took a seat on the edge of the bed and so did you. he carefully opened it, placing the lid beside him. there sat two bracelets with some small glass beads. his was the colour of the dress you had worn when you told him you loved him, a dress he always recognized and constantly complimented. yours was the colour of the surfboard he had taught you to surf on. right in the middle was a small charm with your initials and a heart on each others bracelet. a small, genuine smile appeared on his face.

"i know it's not much. i was gonna get you something better, i swear, but then we were robbed and i had to give the money to my parents and- and it all just happened so fast. i'm so sorry. if you wanna wait til i get my next paycheck, i'll get you something be-" you rambled, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"baby, baby, baby," he said, holding your shoulders.

you looked up at him and he smiled.

"i love it," he smiled.

"you do?" you asked.

he nodded.

"i don't need anything expensive," he began, pulling the bracelet with his initial out and sliding it onto yor wrist, "i don't expect anything expensive. i know it's hard out here, i understand. it's hard enough a usual, but with your family's store getting robbed, it's so much harder. as long as i have you, it's going to be okay."

he had put his bracelet on. he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. when he pulled away, you smiled.

"atta girl," he said.

"don’t worry baby, one day we’re gonna go full kook and i’ll buy you anything you want, and you'll forget about being so sad,” he smiled back.

he picked up your wrist gently and placed a gentle kiss on the small charm with his initial.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj obx #obx imagine

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work.

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest."

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago.

#bnha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere x reader #yandere present mic #yandere aizawa

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Epilogue

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

***

Eleven months later

Rhysand,

I’m leaving this letter taped to your desk because I know you won’t bother reading it otherwise. Sorry—this didn’t feel like something that could be said over email.

I can’t begin to count the number of times you’ve saved my life over the past two decades. From when your mom first took me off the streets and you let me share your room, to when you pushed me to go to Italy because you could see that I needed the space.

Since the day I joined Night Court Inc. I’ve worked tirelessly to pay you back. The long hours, taking on multiple projects at once, doing jobs outside of my jurisdiction, all have been to pay you back. Not because I felt like I had to, but because you deserved it. You were—and are—an amazing boss and brother.

Which is why it’s so hard for me to tell you that I’m leaving.

Not forever, obviously. Just for a year, maybe more if I feel like it. Think of it as an extended sabbatical.

Nesta is graduating soon, and there’s a lot I want to do with her before she takes the Bar and starts her career. Firms are already lining up at the door to employ her, so she’s hot real estate, you know?

Anyway, the two of us have this bucket list of places we want to see before we die, and while becoming a full time attorney isn’t really dying, it’s pretty close to it in my book. She’s not in it for the money, either, so you just know she’s gonna end up in some ugly gray cubicle doing thankless pro bono work (which I love her for).

I’m rambling. My point is, we’re heading straight for the Pacific Northwest after her graduation. I want to see those cute little woods from Twilight. After that, who the fuck knows.

Just be warned that my phone will probably be off for the next twelve months, but I’ll be sending postcards. Don’t be too mad if the company struggles to survive without me; I’m sending in a temporary replacement who I think you’ll really love.

I have one question to ask you before I go, though. I want to say it here so I don’t have to risk crying like a pussy if I say it to your face:

Will you be my groomsman?

Your brother in crime,

Cassian

***

Gwyn and Emerie wake tangled in a pile of limbs and sheets. Groaning, the girls push themselves up from the bed—no, that’s hardwood, and blink around at their surroundings. They’re sprawled across Emerie’s bedroom floor, the space littered by empty cans. Late morning sunlight streams in through the single window, making Emerie wince in pain.

“What did we do last night?” Gwyn groans, batting her tangled auburn hair out of her face.

“I wish I could remember,” Emerie grumbles. Her dark eyes catch on a dark marking on her left knuckle, and she goes to rub it off.

She hisses a wince when she touches it and pulls her hand back. “What the…”

Gwyn takes notice of her own middle finger knuckle and squints. “Are these...tattoos?” she says groggily.

“We got matching tattoos? What the hell is this even supposed to be?” Emerie demands. She waves her hand around like it’ll give her answers. “It’s just a V.”

Gwyn uses her half-sober brain to think as hard as she can about what she and Emerie have in common that starts with V. “V for…vagina?”

“V for Valkyrie.”

The girls jump at Nesta’s voice, finally taking notice of her sitting against the wooden dresser.

Nesta, who hates drinking and was unfortunately completely sober for the events of last night.

“We were watching a documentary about Norse culture and mythology,” Nesta goes on, her tone informative and straightforward. “Gwyn was drunk off apple schnapps. You, Emerie, had an entire flask of vodka all to yourself in celebration of your final night as a law student.” Nesta uncrosses her legs and delicately gets to her heeled feet. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t the Norse doc that made you want to get matching Valkyrie tattoos. It was watching Thor: Ragnarok right afterwards.”

“You were sober the whole time and you let this happen to us?” Emerie fumes.

“If I had a mom she would totally kill me for this,” Gwyn whimpers, clutching her newly tattooed hand.

“Oh, it could have been worse, ladies,” Nesta says. “It was going to be much, much worse, but since I was nice enough to look out for your dignities and pay for your tattoos, I convinced us all into getting something small, cheap, and unnoticeable.” She holds out her own left hand, where a dark V sits inked onto a knuckle. “See? Nothing that could scare off our future employers.”

“Aw, you matched with us?” Gwyn practically makes heart eyes, but Emerie bats her arm aggressively to get her to shut up. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something important right now?” Emerie demands.

“Oh, right. We graduate from Prythian School of Law in…” Nesta holds out her wrist and checks her watch. “One hour.”

“Fuck.” Emerie scrambles to her feet, nearly slipping on the way up. “Fuck fuck fuck!” She eyes Nesta’s fully dressed figure in disbelief, heels and blazer dress and sleek hair and all. “You got ready without waking us up?”

“You made your decisions, I made mine.”

Emerie clearly doesn’t have the time to be upset with Nesta, because she’s already speeding toward the shower in a storm of curses. Gwyn chases after her shouting, “Let me shower with you!”

Left alone in the bedroom, Nesta huffs a quiet laugh to herself. Her thumb grazes against the fresh tattoo on her middle finger, and she turns on her heel to clean up the place before they leave.

***

In the end, the winner of Nesta and Emerie’s three year long academic rivalry is Emerie.

Nesta is buzzing with excitement while filming her friend’s valedictorian speech, only dropping her grin when she has to send death glares to graduates that try to stand in the way of her camera. And even though Gwyn is waiting on the other side of the amphitheater with the rest of their friends and family, Nesta can practically hear her squeals from where she sits too.

The weather today feels like a reward for all the hard work Nesta’s done the past year. The sun shines but it doesn’t overheat her, and a cool breeze comforts her as she waits for her name to be called. Not even spending half the year sleeping in an empty bed could stop her from finishing out law school with the highest honors.

When it’s Nesta’s turn to walk the stage and receive her JD, she almost falters at the cheers that erupt from a certain section of the seats.

Straightening her shoulders, she strides to where the dean waits, shaking his hand and accepting her degree. She flashes a glance of irritation toward her guests to let them know that she hears them perfectly fine. That only makes them cheer harder, and Emerie almost jumps Nesta on her way back to her seat. “You did it!” She flings her arms around Nesta’s neck. “Goddammit, you did it!”

Nesta lets out an unrestrained laugh and hugs Emerie back tightly. “You’re next, babe.”

Hearing the announcer finally say “Emerie Nikolis” is almost as exciting as when Nesta heard her own name being called. It makes the rest of the ceremony dull in comparison, mostly because Nesta hardly cares about the rest of her peers. She still isn’t that great at getting along with others, she supposes—more like certain people came into her life with a lightning strike of luck, and they chose to stay. She chose to keep them.

After the ceremony ends and people begin filing out of the amphitheater in lines, Nesta looks around everywhere for a glimpse of Emerie in the sea of people. She wants to bask in their shared success as soon as possible. Instead, she ends up getting caught in a crowd of fresh law grads also searching for their friends and families. Black robes create a blur around her, and her senses itch at the feeling of being trapped, trampled before she can even make it out of the venue—

A warm, broad hand wraps around Nesta’s robed waist, pulling her close and creating a barrier between her and everyone else.

Without a word, Cassian uses his hulking size to create an opening in the crowd, edging people out of the way until they’re out in the open air again at the entrance of the amphitheater.

Offering him a grateful smile, Nesta hobbles onto the curb that runs along the overflowing parking lot. Her feet are asleep from sitting in a hard chair all morning, but she stands steady again when she catches sight of them: Gwyn and Emerie and her sisters, with the rest of their friends and family trailing behind them.

Cassian gives her waist a squeeze before nudging her toward them. In an instant, Nesta is swarmed by a flood of congratulations and gifts, not knowing which way to look or who to pay attention to.

A heavily pregnant Feyre shoves a bouquet of white calla lilies into her arms, and Elain follows with a potted succulent. “Elain grew them herself, but I helped pick them out,” Feyre tells her proudly.

“Thank you,” Nesta manages to say with a grateful smile before her attention is stolen by Azriel, who tugs at her sleeve like a kid wanting attention. “And what did you get for me?” she asks him.

He offers her a smile and two thumbs up. “My love and affection.”

Gwyn smacks him in the arm with a wrapped present and glares. “You’re so cheap. I told you not to come if you couldn’t get anything.”

Azriel rubs his arm in disbelief. “Just put my name on whatever you got!”

She hits him with the present again. “Shut up.” She hits him a third time. “You’re a terrible friend.”

“That’s enough, you’re gonna hurt it,” Emerie snaps, wrestling the gift out of Gwyn’s hands.

Azriel looks grateful if not a little surprised at Emerie coming to his defense. “Thanks, Em.”

“I was talking about this.” Emerie holds up the paper-wrapped gift.

Nesta furrows her brows, wondering who the present is for. It could be for Emerie, since she seems to be carrying no other graduation gifts in her hands—something that instantly concerns Nesta. “Where are your flowers?” Nesta asks her. Surely someone remembered to get Emerie flowers.

Emerie points to her car parked not too far away. “Over there.”

Nesta shouldn’t have worried. Emerie’s beat up car looks like a makeshift garland shop, piled from hood to trunk with flowers, stuffed animals, and edible arrangements. Of course; Emerie has always been more popular than Nesta.

“Oh, I can see my flowers from here!” Mor exclaims with a hand above her eyes, sidling up to Emerie’s side. Nesta keeps her mouth firm against the amused smile that wants to form at Mor’s attempt to get Emerie’s attention. If there’s one thing Morrigan doesn’t know, it’s when to give up.

“Oh really?” Emerie plays along. “Which ones are they?”

“The basket of yellow tulips. Aren’t they pretty?”

“I see.” Emerie pouts at Mor with mock disappointment. “Too bad I’m allergic to tulips.”

Nesta accidentally lets out a cackle when Mor’s face drops, and then quickly shuts her mouth in apology.

Cassian chooses that moment to intervene, dropping a hand onto Mor’s shoulder and tugging her away. “Let’s let the girls have their moment,” he says, shooting a look to his brothers. They get the hint. Az frees Nesta’s hands of her gifts before he and Rhysand each take the arm of an Archeron sister and begin to lead them away, giving Nesta and Emerie and Gwyn some privacy.

Elain’s elbow meets sharply with Azriel’s ribs as they walk away, making him curse and nearly drop Nesta’s bouquet. She says, “Oops, thought I saw a bug.”

“Why is everyone going for me today?” he demands.

Gwyn watches them go over her shoulder, and Nesta sees a spark of concern in her eyes for Azriel’s hurt rib. Then she waves a dismissive hand and mutters, “He’ll be fine.” She turns back to the girls and grabs Emerie’s sleeve. “Give her the gift, give her the gift,” she pleads, bouncing up and down on her toes.

Emerie shakes Gwyn off and snaps, “Give me a second.” She straightens out her wrinkled gown sleeve with a scowl.

Nesta’s brows go all the way up into her hairline, her curiosity finally piqued. “That’s for me?” She nods to the present. It’s shaped like a book or maybe a journal, both options that excite her. She can buy pretty books and fancy journals any time of the year, sure, but getting them as a gift will never turn boring.

Emerie huffs and holds the present protectively to her chest. “It was supposed to be a birthday present,” she says.

“From two birthdays ago,” Gwyn interjects, her teal eyes bright. “Em and I came up with the idea after the ski trip, but by then it was too late to get it ready by your birthday.”

Nesta does the numbers in her head. “It took you guys fifteen months to get this ready?” If she sounds skeptical, it’s because she is.

Emerie shrugs. “Gwyn is a slow…” She trails off at a warning look from Gwyn and amends, “She has her art blocks.”

Gwyn snatches the present from Emerie and thrusts it into Nesta’s hands like she wants to be rid of it. “Here. Open it fast, we can’t wait any longer.”

Gwyn claps her hands together in excitement, but Nesta’s own hands are wary as they wrap around the gift. It’s hard and smooth beneath the wrapping. Definitely a book, and longer than her usual reads.

Nesta’s smile is small as she tears off the paper. “What kind of book takes over a year for you to get?”

She falls silent as the last of the paper falls away, answering her question.

Gold lettering stamped against a deep blue binding stares up at her. The book is beautiful in its simplicity, the title declaring:

THE ADVENTURES OF LADY NESTA

“What’s this?” she whispers.

“I did the writing and Emerie helped with the plot and the manufacturing. We’re a two-woman publishing house,” Gwyn explains, throwing her arms around Emerie.

Nesta carefully opens the book in her hands, not knowing what to expect within the pages.

There are words, obviously. Black ink on off-white paper organized into sentences, and sentences organized into paragraphs. But one word stands out the most among the page she opened up to. Her own name.

“To the valiant Sir Nesta of House Archeron.” The warrior lord raised his cup toward her. The others toasted in suit, “To the valiant Sir Nesta!”

“So it’s a fantasy set in medieval times, kind of like Camelot but not actually Camelot,” Gwyn babbles while Nesta stares at the book in her hands. “And you’re a lady-in-waiting who’s part of the court of a tyrannical king, but you also secretly moonlight as a knight, and you’re also a sorceress, and sometimes you’re a murderer—and the whole time, Em and I are like your super hot magical sidekicks. I’m going to warn you now, though: I did use real people’s names for this, and your character does have graphic sex with Cassian’s character multiple times. If real life Cassian ever learns of the existence of this book, however, I will have to kill him and then you—” She pauses for a big breath.

Emerie stops her right there with a hand to her mouth. “Okay, that’s enough, don’t spoil the whole damn book.”

Nesta looks from Gwyn and Emerie to the book, back to Gwyn and Emerie. “You guys…wrote smut about me in a fantasy setting? And then you had it printed and bound?”

“It’s not like we enjoyed it,” Emerie says defensively, lifting her sharp chin. “It’s a staple of the genre. We figured you wouldn’t read it without any romance.”

“There’s more than smut, though,” Gwyn promises. “There’s magic and power struggles and adventures that test your loyalty and bravery. Give it a chance before getting mad.” She looks worried, afraid that Nesta might actually hate it.

Nesta laughs aloud, but the sound comes out all odd. Her voice cracks when she says, “Why would I be mad?”

“Are you—crying?” Emerie sounds concerned.

Nesta shakes her head, overwhelmed with a feeling she can’t even name. It’s more than joy or awe; it might even be more than love. She focuses back on the book to distract from her tears, opening it to the title page. In smaller print beneath the title are the names of the authors.

Gwyn Berdara

Emerie Nikolis

Nesta then flips to the last page and finds the number on the bottom. 405 pages.

“You wrote all of this about me?” She didn’t even know there was that much to say about her. She laughs tearfully again. “How did you two even come up with this?”

Gwyn shrugs like it’s nothing. “We mostly just wanted to give you something that shows you how we see you.”

Emerie adds in a gentler tone, “We think you’re brave, and smart, and elegant and sometimes scary, and…” She looks to Gwyn. “We were inspired.”

“The heroine’s story might be exaggerated, but it’s basically you, Nesta,” Gwyn says.

Nesta’s eyes start stinging again, and she blinks furiously to keep the emotion away. It’s bad enough that Cassian and her sisters and their friends are pretending not to stare from a distance.

“Check the spine.” Emerie nudges her softly.

Nesta follows her directions and flips the book over. Instead of the title engraved along the hard edge like most books, there are three emblems along the spine. A dagger, a music note, and a book. Matching the charm bracelets each of them still wear today, even though Nesta’s bracelet is dangerously on the verge of falling apart. It only has a few wears left to it before she’ll have to store it away somewhere safe, Nesta being too attached to the cheap purple thread at this point to replace it.

She runs her fingers over the spine in awe, unable to comprehend how much time and labor and money it must have cost her friends to create such a beautifully crafted book. “But… I didn’t do anything for this gift,” she tries to say. “I didn’t even get anything back for you guys.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Emerie assures her. “Consider it a gift for existing. And don’t even think about paying us back,” she adds in warning.

“I’m going to pay you back,” Nesta deadpans. She turns to Gwyn with immeasurable pride in her eyes. “I can’t believe you wrote my favorite book.”

“You haven’t even read it yet,” Gwyn laughs.

“It’s my favorite book,” Nesta repeats. “Thank you.” The words are an understatement; she’s going to sit down and read every page three times as soon as she gets home.

A loud cough suddenly interrupts their moment, and Nesta slides her eyes past the girls to where the rest of the group waits. Azriel looks irritable at Gwyn being away for so long, while Feyre is taking pictures of the three of them like she’s capturing a historical moment. Everyone else is attempting not to look like they’re eavesdropping from where they stand.

“Let’s get back to the group,” Emerie says, taking one of Nesta’s and Gwyn’s arms in her own. “I heard your rich brother-in-law promised everyone overpriced sushi after this.”

“Just because he’s married to my sister doesn’t mean you should call him that,” Nesta scolds as they make their way back to her family.

“Everyone finished crying like little girls?” Rhys asks when they arrive.

Nesta gives a pointed look to Emerie that says, See my point?

“Let me see what you got.” Feyre huddles near her to get a closer look at the book, while Elain pretends to be disinterested but still takes a peek over Feyre’s shoulder.

Despite the claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded, Nesta opens up the book to show her sisters the contents.

While Feyre oohs and ahs over the gift, Azriel says, “Here, take these while you’re at it,” and shoves Nesta’s flowers and potted succulent back into her arms.

She just barely catches them before they fall, her arms now overflowing with gifts.

Before Nesta can be attacked by any more people, Cassian appears and places a firm hand at her back, steadying her balance. “Nesta and I will leave first,” he says in his smooth voice. “Race you to the restaurant.” He throws up a short wave in goodbye and begins to pull her away from the group.

Nesta whooshes out a breath of relief as they leave and mutters, “Thanks.”

He says nothing in return, but Nesta feels his hand tighten imperceptibly around her waist.

***

The group watches Nesta and Cassian go in a mix of suspicion and wariness. It’s silent for a long moment before Elain finally throws out, “Do you think he’s going to do it?”

“No way,” Feyre says. “He wouldn’t do that without telling us, right?”

Mor shakes her head. “No fucking way. It’s Cassian.”

“It’s also Nesta,” Emerie rebuts. “He won’t tell me anything about what he has planned, if he even has anything planned.” The rest of the group murmurs in agreement.

Rhys grumbles aloud, “After abandoning me at the company with Eris Vanserra for the next year, he better not be planning anything without telling me first.”

Gwyn huffs out a sigh of frustration. “It keeps me up at night wondering when he’s going to propose.”

“You sleep fine,” Azriel mutters from behind her.

“It also keeps me up at night wondering how long I’m going to be stuck with you.”

He tucks her arm into the crook of his elbow. “Forever, Carrots.”

Elain forces a polite smile at the show of affection, and then turns abruptly to Rhysand. “I hope you’re also paying for drinks.”

***

“You drive.”

They’re the first words Cassian has said to her face all day, accompanied with a toss of the keys to his truck.

Nesta catches the keys, her arms free from the gifts that now sit in the back seat of the truck. “Really?” she says.

“Yeah.” He’s too nervous to even speak, much less drive with his trembling hands. He takes a deep breath to collect himself and goes over to the passenger side, getting in before he can overthink things.

It was bad enough being torn apart by jealousy while watching Nesta receive Gwyn and Emerie’s book—not that he wasn’t wildly happy for her and the girls, but that it was a sad reminder that Cassian couldn’t give Nesta a gift as well.

He had had it, the perfect gift: a finely crafted music box with a ballerina that spun gracefully when you opened it. He was going to place the ring on the dancer’s outstretched arm for Nesta to find, and now…

Now the music box lies in a hundred pieces in the trash, crushed during an aggressive Nerf gun fight by his reckless brothers.

Rhys apologized—and has been apologizing—profusely for the mistake, but it doesn’t fix anything. Cassian has no gift to celebrate Nesta’s accomplishments, so he can only hope that his words will do the heavy lifting today.

“Nesta.”

“Hm?” She takes her eyes off the road to glance at him.

“Congratulations.” He feels so fucking lame for not having anything more to say, but for her it seems to be enough. A slow smile lifts up the corners of her mouth as she says giddily, “Thank you.”

Cassian shakes his head at the way she shines from his one word. He’s got to get her standards up with this proposal.

“Take a left on this road.” He nods ahead.

Nesta frowns. “Why? I thought we were getting lunch?”

“I need to get something from home first.” He’s not technically lying, but he feels all sneaky like a liar would.

Nesta’s defenses are lower than ever today, because she doesn’t question him once before turning left onto the road that leads to the cabin. It must be that she’s in a good mood—and Cassian is reminded that he could either make this the happiest or the worst day of her life.

They’ve discussed their future together before, but it was always some distant musing, not something that could happen today or tomorrow. Cassian won’t dare to assume what Nesta’s answer will be. He can’t know until he asks.

They pull up to the cabin and get out of the truck, and Cassian wordlessly holds his hand out for the keys. Nesta hands them to him as they walk up to the door. “What do you need to get?” she asks.

“You’ll see,” he promises with a wink. He unlocks the front door and throws it open, walking in first without looking back.

Hearing Nesta’s heels on the hardwood following him inside, Cassian goes off on the search for her ring with a pounding heart.

***

Nesta stops in the middle of the living area, raising her head to admire the fairy lights strung up all around the cabin. Fresh flowers sit in brand new vases everywhere she turns, and the scent of something rich and sweet wafts its way through the house. The only thing it’s missing is a trail of rose petals and some candles. “Did you do all this for me, Cassian?” she calls out laughingly.

Cassian doesn’t reply from wherever he disappeared to down the hall, but Nesta doesn’t mind. She trails an absentminded finger over the back of an armchair, feeling oddly bittersweet.

The cabin has transformed so much in the past year alone, with Nesta and Cassian bringing new things in and throwing old ones out, decorating and redecorating until they found a style that suits both their tastes.

A record player that only ever plays one vinyl is now situated permanently in the corner of the living room, put there by Nesta when Cassian was still in Milan and the only thing that could ease how much she missed him was music. There were times during those months when it felt like she couldn’t survive without him here, times when she couldn’t focus on any of her studies because of how his absence clanged through the cabin.

So she filled the cabin with other people, and she filled it with herself. By the time Cassian returned from Italy, there were little traces of Nesta everywhere: in the deep blue curtains in their bedroom, in the pictures of Gwyn and Emerie at pole dancing class in the entryway, in the beautifully shaded coloring pages stuck to the fridge doors.

He had left her alone, but she never became lonely.

Nesta slips off her graduation gown and carefully folds it over the back of the couch before finally following that warm scent into the kitchen.

There on the middle of the island sits a freshly baked chocolate cake. It towers over platters of other sickeningly sweet desserts, all of them favorites of Nesta’s: triple chocolate chunk cookies, chocolate chip pancakes, chocolate and pistachio macarons.

Written on the cake platter in decorative icing are the words For My Favorite Attorney.

Nesta huffs a quiet but awestruck laugh to herself. “I’m not an attorney yet, you idiot,” she says aloud.

“But you will be.” Cassian’s voice makes Nesta jump. She whirls around to find him standing at one of the kitchen entryways.

“You’ll be the best in town,” he continues, taking a step closer, “and soon you’ll be the best in the state. And before you know it you’ll be hounded by people asking for your expert legal opinion in their cases.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at him and mutters, “If I even pass the Bar at this rate, you mean.” Everyone and their mother has let Nesta know what a terrible mistake it is to go on vacation for a year before taking the Bar. She’s only been a law school graduate for a few hours and she can already feel the information she worked so hard to learn filtering out of her brain; where will her skills be in twelve months’ time when she finally takes the exam?

Nesta knows all of this, and yet…when Cassian first brought up the idea of taking a year-long sabbatical dedicated to traveling, she didn’t hesitate for a moment before saying yes. All ration and reason flew out of her brain and was replaced with one singular desire: to see the world with Cassian.

“You can study on vacation,” Cassian reminds her, coming up to her side and brushing her hair over a shoulder. “You will be studying on vacation, if I have anything to say about it. That’s what this is for.” He nods to the cake and the words written in icing.

He has a point. Nesta turns back to the cake and frowns, taking a closer look at the sloppy frosting work and the attempt to decorate the top with Oreos. “Did you make this yourself?”

“I did,” Cassian says, looking proud and nervous at the same time.

“It looks like you saw one of Elain’s cakes and then tried to recreate it from memory.” Realizing that she sounds too harsh, she belatedly adds, “…Sweetheart.” She doesn’t know if that works to soften the blow or not.

Cassian lets out a real laugh, and she notices some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Try it before you say anything else.”

“Right now?” Nesta’s brow furrows. He put so much time and effort into the array of desserts before her, Nesta thought there would at least be more fanfare before she was allowed to eat anything. Maybe a photoshoot.

“I made it for you, didn’t I?”

If he insists. Nesta swipes a fingertip through the words For My Favorite Attorney and holds it up to Cassian’s lips. “You first,” she orders.

He obeys without second thought, clasping her wrist and bringing her finger to his mouth. He suckles the icing off with a flick of his tongue before pulling away. “Just what I thought.” He licks his lips. “I’m an amazing baker. See for yourself.”

He means for her to try the cake, but instead, Nesta gently takes hold of Cassian’s jaw and brings her mouth to his. His lips part in surprise beneath hers, and she sweeps her tongue into his mouth to taste the lingering icing. She pulls away a long moment later and whispers, “You’re right. Better than Elain’s.”

When he doesn’t respond, Nesta leans back even farther and looks up into his awe-struck face. She worries for a brief moment that she did something wrong. “What are you thinking?”

Cassian’s throat bobs. “I’m thinking…that you look so beautiful today.”

Was that it? Nesta chuckles and starts to move back, but Cassian catches her wrists and keeps her in place. “I’m thinking that I want to see you like this every day,” he goes on. “I want to hear your heels clicking on the floor after a long day at work, and I want to make you dinner every night, and I want to help you choose your clothes the next morning.”

Nesta’s answering smile is small and confused, but he’s not finished.

“I’m thinking I want to raise a living being with you, whether it’s a fish or a whole kid.”

“Cassian…”

“Most of all, I’m thinking that you are my first love.”

Oh.

“And now I’m asking you to be my last.” He lets go of her hands to pull something out of his pocket and place it on the island beside them.

The small box, opened to reveal a delicate ring of gold, sits between them like an offering and a truce. He isn’t shoving it in her face, but rather letting her know that it’s there if she wants it.

Nesta isn’t stupid enough to say that she’s never thought about this. That she hasn’t already considered proposing herself, only to push the idea away out of baseless fears and what-ifs. The potential of change terrified her too much to try anything risky.

She was planning to finally grow a pair during their vacation and ask Cassian the question he deserved to hear, but it’s too late now—while she was waffling around, he beat her to the chase.

Nesta looks from the ring to Cassian, her face blank except for the emotion burning up her eyes. “When did you decide this?”

When was the moment he realized he wanted her until old age and death, in the most binding manner possible? When was the moment he got tired of calling her his girlfriend and decided he would rather call her his wife?

Cassian is unfazed at her deflection. “The moment I got back from Italy last December, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg you to marry me.”

Fair enough; she wanted to marry him in that moment at the airport as well. “Who else knew you were going to propose today?”

“Nobody,” Cassian answers with a rough voice. “I couldn’t tell anyone else because—it’s you. You deserved to be the first to know. I also knew everyone would want to watch it happen, and a public proposal is your biggest nightmare.” He tries to laugh and fails.

He knows her too well.

“You have a lot of questions,” Cassian says, meeting Nesta’s eyes with gentle defiance, “but you still haven’t answered mine.”

“And what question is that?” She needs to hear the words out loud.

“Will you marry me?”

It’s the easiest answer Nesta has ever given. “Yes.” She blinks away tears and repeats, “Yes.”

And just in case her fiancé has telepathy, she thinks Yes yes yes yes yes.

As Nesta pulls Cassian in for a kiss deep enough to cement her answer, sunlight streams into their shared home like outstretched arms, welcoming the beginning of the rest of their lives together.

***

a/n: around 116K words later, we finally did it!! but mostly i did it. im too exhausted for words rn, and it sucked to have to write this epilogue i loved so much while my mental state wasn’t at its best, but … who cares! i finished my first not-book ever!

nesta and cassian and everyone else are far from gone, so if you’re gonna miss them keep your eyes peeled for future stories set in this world :) love u all so much, and as always, thank you for being my first readers.

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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