#trading in your pride for a little snack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catslvrr · 5 months

Text

broken thread

pham hanni x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Your whole life, you had been waiting for the red loop to appear on your ring finger. The string leads straight to your soulmate, you had heard. You weren’t really expecting your soulmate to literally cut ties on the first day of getting it. And you definitely weren’t expecting to meet her months later at your university library.

Contains: cursing

Playlist

Your favorite color had always been red — a rich and blazing red.

You learned from an early age that it was the color of love. The color of the string that would wrap around your ring finger one day, and lead you straight to your soulmate.

You spent countless days pestering your parents to retell the story of when they first received their string, the story of how they first met, the story of how they fell in love. You would watch them send teasing smiles to each other as they fought over who fell first, and see their eyes gleam with fondness as they reminisced about their younger days.

They would tuck you in bed with goodnight kisses after sharing little tidbits of their love story, and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, comforted by the fact that you would one day find your own soulmate — someone who would love you unconditionally.

The first time you saw the red string in action, from someone other than your parents, was in the first year of high school. A girl from your class had rocked up to school one day, waving around her hand to flaunt the red loop that had appeared around her finger, the first to do so.

That was the telltale sign that she had found her soulmate: everyone could see the loop, and only she could see the string that led her to them.

(Getting the loop didn’t mean that you would immediately find your soulmate, though. You had heard from your parents that it was different for everyone. It could be mere days, or it could take weeks, months, sometimes even years after receiving the loop to meet your soulmate face to face.)

News traveled around fast. By second period, it was all everyone talked about. Students rushed to the girl during the break, eager to see it in person, as if to confirm that this concept was tangible and real.

You didn’t have to see for yourself. The look on the girl’s face was enough for you, glowing with ardor and pride. And it was not only the girl who was left eager at the prospect of a soulmate after this. This day planted a seed of hope in everyone, their own expectations and fervor beginning to grow and flourish.

It’s so nice, you had thought to yourself at the time as you absentmindedly drew a red line that looped around your whole page, that everyone is so excited for love.

And you loved love, too. How could you not, when it was in everything you saw growing up? It was in the mornings when you would wake up unusually early, and peek outside your room to see your parents conversing in hushed tones over some coffee, the sunlight just barely spilling through the curtains to tenderly greet them.

It was in the tooth-rotting sweetness of the candy your cousins would secretly buy for you without your parents’ knowledge, along with the bandaids to cover your scraped knees when you rode your bike together.

It was in the way you and your friends would bring extra servings of your snacks or lunch to share with and ‘trade’ together.

It was everywhere, a constant and certainty, there for you to give and take at your will, and that’s what you loved about love.

As years went by, more and more students burst through the school gates brandishing their red loops, and more and more couples began popping up. Valentine’s Day at school was always sweet to see — the school would decorate the hallways with red threads and balloons, and students sent heart lollipops and roses to their lovers or friends.

By the time you reached your senior years, your ring finger was still bare. Your friends and family always reassured you that your time would come, and friends who hadn’t received the loop yet would lament and rant about their anxiety. You weren’t too worried, though. Love is patient and so you figured you should be too.

It was a few weeks after graduation when you finally received your red loop. You woke up in the afternoon to the disruptive revving of a car that zoomed past your house.

(You had been waking up later these days, enjoying the last taste of freedom before the start of university.)

You stayed up late last night, suddenly feeling the motivation to perform a surgical deep clean of your room. You enjoyed doing this every few months to give yourself peace of mind. It was bittersweet to look back at your past exams and the old notes you took, reminiscing the endless hours you spent hunched over your desk.

You were about to drift back to sleep when you felt a slight itch on your ring finger, and instinctively went to scratch it. Then, you realized what that meant, and quickly sat up to investigate.

There it was, in all its glory: a red loop around your finger. The string that extended it passed through your walls. You leaned in closer to inspect it — it seemed like a real string, like what you would find on a spool. You could see the little threads that it was made of. But when you tried to touch it, it would just pass through your fingers.

You sat there for a few minutes, letting the reality sink in. You were overwhelmed with emotions, the good kind, and your cheeks started to hurt because you were smiling too hard.

You didn’t feel any different, didn’t feel suddenly whole or complete, and you didn’t expect to. You were just content that there was someone out there to share your love with. Though, there was that small sense of relief in the way your shoulders relaxed.

(There was always a small margin of error with soulmates; you had heard of it through whispered rumors and seen it in the fine print of your research. The selfish part of you was glad that it wasn’t you.)

Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, even when you got out of bed to brush your teeth. You couldn’t help but begin to fantasize about who your soulmate would be — what they would look like, what their personality was like, if the two of you would click straight away.

Just as you finished washing up and began to make your way to the kitchen, you winced as you felt an unexpected sharp tug on your ring finger. Your hand felt like it was burning. Cradling your wrist up towards you, you noticed what was wrong.

What was once a red string that carried your love beyond these walls, to wherever your soulmate was, was now cut short, frayed at the edges. Its color had faded, as if lifeless, now a pale pink.

Oh. Maybe you spoke too soon.

You stood there for a while, in the hallway, in denial. Hadn’t it only been a few minutes? When your mom made her way to your room to check up on you, she saw your stricken face first. Her eyebrows knitted, mouth open and about to ask what was wrong. Then, she saw the string, or a lack thereof.

She didn’t say anything, only pulling you into her arms, the arms that once engulfed you as she told you everything she knew about soulmates. You let the tears run down your face.

You never thought that love could be pain, but you were feeling it now, and you didn’t know how to make it stop. Each gasping breath after the sobs that wracked through your body should have been breaths that your soulmate would’ve taken away.

You bit your lip so as to no longer make a sound, and you were biting so hard that it bled the red you once thought meant love.

You felt empty for the next few days. There was an almost imperceptible lighter feeling to your ring finger now, and you felt bare.

The loop was still there, and the sight of it that had once brought joy, now only gave you sorrow that you would’ve never thought to associate with soulmates.

You cried until your eyes were bloodshot red, and you imagined that your tears would stain the pink loop, if it could be stained — soaked with your tears so that it darkened, and maybe it would be closer to the red you love.

It was as if the universe was mocking you. Everyone knew how much you loved the idea of soulmates, how badly you were waiting for the day to get your loop (even though you tried to hide it).

But we always want what we can’t have. And you thought that the world was cruel, for letting you just have a taste of soulmates, only for it to be ripped away from you not even an hour later.

Or perhaps you should blame your soulmate for being selfish and entitled enough to deny both of you the gift that is love. You wonder if you would actually say that to them if you ever met face to face.

(You wouldn’t. You have a feeling that you’d love them regardless.)

It was stupid, being heartbroken over someone you had never met. But you had spent so much of your life waiting and hoping, that the disappointment was stifling, like the string had wrapped itself tightly around you, leaving you no room to breathe. Maybe it was your fault for being too idealistic.

The worst part was that there would not be any closure. But perhaps this fate was better than being rejected upon the first meeting. It hurt all the same, anyway.

You kept yourself occupied as best as you could, which manifested itself into more of just holing yourself up in your room, listening to sad music and cleaning away your thoughts.

Eventually, you forced yourself out of hiding and faced the music. The pitiful looks and words of comfort from friends and family felt more burdening than anything, but you knew they meant well.

You took it day by day, learning to slowly chisel off the bitterness that had engraved itself onto you. You didn’t want to become someone your past self would’ve hated.

Romantic love may not be on the table for you anymore, but there was still plenty of love to go around. And that was what you would tell yourself to move on. You had to move on, because time doesn’t wait for anyone.

The good news was that the start of university was not too long after, which gave you something to focus on rather than the gaping hole that your would-be-soulmate left.

University was a big change, but you were never one to be unnerved by change. The hardest part was finding where all the lecture halls and rooms were on campus, but other than that, you had successfully cemented yourself into uni life among hundreds of other students.

Faster than you could process, you settled into a comfortable rhythm: taking public transport to get to uni, attending lectures and tutorials, rotting away in the library to complete your weekly exercises, going home to sleep, then doing it all over again.

At least you didn’t have classes every day.

Ignoring the relentless workload, the freedom and flexibility that university offered in comparison to high school was a breath of fresh air.

You enjoyed romanticizing the train rides to university, getting lost in the scenery passing by with your Airpods on. Grabbing a coffee early in the morning, feeling as if you were an adult now. Feeling insignificant under the towering skyscrapers that the city boasted.

It was lonely though. With a fresh set of classmates every semester, it felt harder than ever to make friends. Your high school friends had branched out to different universities, and the ones that went to the same one as you, were busy with adapting to the new lifestyle.

You still met up from time to time, of course, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other every day in high school.

So yes, it was incredibly lonely. It didn’t help that all you could see around you was the bright red of everyone’s loop, a reminder of what you lost.

You were in your zone, catching up on a lecture via recording and making notes, when the opening of a door startled you.

You looked up to see a girl who, despite her short stature, still exuded an intimidating vibe. You took out your Airpods.

“I booked this room.”

“Oh,” you frowned. You were so sure that you booked this room. You always did, this same room, on Wednesday, every week. “I thought I booked it, but maybe there was an error with the system.”

You started to pack up, the air painstakingly awkward as the stranger stood there and watched you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

You struggled under her scrutiny, fumbling over your pens and pencils as you internally berated yourself for not verifying the booking.

“You booked it?” She said after a while. (You were still packing up.) You felt small under her gaze, only nodding in response.

“Don’t worry about it then,” she mumbled, plopping herself on a chair. “We can share.”

“Oh.” Your hand that was stuffing your stationery into your backpack froze. “Are you sure?”

The stranger grunted and waved her hand dismissively. She then folded her arms on the table, leaning her forehead on it. You took that as a sign of the conversation ending.

You hesitantly sat back down and put in your Airpods again. You spent the rest of the time studying, occasionally glancing at the sleeping stranger. You were slightly concerned, more curious if anything.

It was around three hours later when she stirred back to life. You watched her out of the corner of your eye. She puffed her cheeks out as she ran her fingers through her hair, proceeding to check her phone before setting it down on the table.

She rested her chin on her folded arms, diverting her sole attention to you. You quickly averted your eyes back to your laptop screen, feeling her burning stare.

You suffered under her gaze for a few more minutes that seemed to drag itself out before you mustered up the courage to look back up.

Out of habit, you looked at her ring finger. It was something you had been meaning to stop. You wouldn’t want people staring at yours, but you couldn’t help yourself.

To your shock, her loop was also a pale pink. You hadn’t met someone else who also had a pink loop yet.

She noticed your fixated gaze. “Yeah. No soulmate for me.”

“Sorry,” you hastily said, sitting up straight. “I didn’t mean to look-”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

You bit your lip and showed her your ring finger. “No, really, I wasn’t judging. I’m the same.”

For the first time since meeting her, you seemed to pique her interest. She smiled as she leaned back, a mix of pride and dryness. You couldn’t really pinpoint it. “I cut mine. How about you?”

You wavered for a split second, but quickly shook the thought off. It’s just a coincidence. You tried to play it off. “Me too.”

“Really?” She tilted her head, still skeptical. “Why?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Didn’t feel right, you know. I wasn’t ready.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “God, finally someone that gets it. Everyone’s so obsessed with soulmates, I can’t stand it.”

“I know right,” you laughed awkwardly. Your response only seemed to spur her on.

“Soulmates are such a scam. Love should be a choice. Some stupid string shouldn’t dictate who I love,” she muttered, drumming her fingers on the table.

You nodded slowly. It sounded personal to her. You had never really seen it like that, but you could understand where she was coming from.

Maybe the pain I felt from the cut string was the same pain my soulmate felt when they got the string.

You weren’t sure how to feel about this. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, because the stranger spoke again.

“I’m Hanni.”

You were expecting a follow-up question, but realized she was waiting for a response. You promptly introduced yourself, although quite clumsily, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“You almost done with studying?” Hanni asked, kicking her feet on the table. You were pretty sure that was against the rules, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Kind of?”

“What do you study anyway?” You kept your eyes trained on your laptop while she kept hers on you.

“Actuarial studies.”

A whistle. “Damn. You must be crazy.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely something,” you scratched your nape before continuing meekly. “How about you?”

“Nothing,” Hanni closed her eyes, arms behind her head as she teetered the chair back. This left you on edge, you were scared she would fall. “Took a gap year.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what do you do with all the time?”

“Whatever I want. Which basically means nothing.”

“Cool,” you nodded stiffly. You were about to end the conversation there, but realized,

“Wait,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “So what are you doing at a uni library?”

She cracked an eye open for a second before smirking. You found this immensely attractive. “Is it not open to the public?”

“It is,” you backtracked. “Sorry-”

Hanni suddenly stood up and stretched. “I’m just messing with you. Most of the time, I come here to take a nap. Sometimes I meet up with my friends though.”

Not giving you any time to respond, she continued. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh,” you said, again. That was all you could say really, you weren’t the best with strangers. “Okay.”

Hanni stuffed her phone in her pocket as she shuffled towards the door, putting on her headphones again. You flexed your wrist before continuing to write down lecture notes.

“Hey.”

Hanni hovered at the door, hand on the doorframe. “We both like booking this room. You don’t mind sharing from now on, right?”

You tapped your pen on the desk to relieve your hand of its shakiness. “Yeah. I don’t mind.”

Hanni nodded. “I’ll see you next week.”

“See you…” You mumbled, but she had already walked out. You watched her leave. That initial gut feeling started to die down.

Hanni was someone you wouldn’t necessarily consider a friend in the first few weeks of knowing her. She was consistent though, you’ll give her that, always showing up to the same library room just to sleep for a solid 3 to 4 hours every Wednesday without fail.

So the conversations between you two were minimal. Not that you minded. But there was just something pulling you toward her, maybe it was her assertive nature and the way she carried herself with confidence, the complete opposite of you, or maybe it was the fact that she was very pretty.

Despite her being asleep most of the time, there was a subtle sense of tranquility that she brought — the idea that the two of you were in the same boat; you knew she wouldn’t walk on eggshells around the topic of soulmates around you. You liked that.

(It had been months since the incident. You thought your friends and family would’ve moved on by now, hell, even you have, but the way they tread lightly around you about soulmates was like opening old wounds.

It made you feel as if you were weak. As if you were a defect. You knew this wasn’t true. There was more to life than soulmates. This is what you had to learn.)

Before you knew it, two months had passed since your first meeting. Time flies when uni completely bombards you with assignments. It was just another ordinary Wednesday when Hanni decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hey.”

Hanni flung a pencil in your direction. It had only been ten minutes since she entered the room.

(It was your pencil. You had no idea how she got a hold of it.)

You barely had time to dodge before taking out your Airpods, slightly annoyed, but mostly perplexed.

“Do you do anything other than study?”

“Obviously…”

She still seemed dubious. “What do you like? Any hobbies?”

You paused.

“I like astronomy?” You said it as more of a question than a statement.

Hanni’s eyebrows furrowed. “Like signs and shit?”

“No,” you laughed softly. “That’s astrology. I mean, you know, space and all that.”

Hanni didn’t reply. You hoped that it was because of indifference, rather than judgment. You didn’t know why you cared anyway. You continued on with your work.

She spoke again a few minutes later. “What do you listen to?”

You took out your Airpods again. Usually, this would be irritating, but these seemingly trivial conversations and small talk somehow wormed their way up to be the highlight of your week.

“Um…” You trailed off. “How am I meant to show you?”

Hanni hummed in thought for a moment. “Do you use Spotify?”

You nodded. She grabbed your phone, pushed it in your face so it would unlock, and started tapping and doing who knows what. You just sat there, appalled by her brazenness.

She handed your phone back to you with a proud smile. “There. Our Spotify’s should be synced now.”

You don’t know why your face started to heat up. Something about listening to music together felt so intimate. Like you were opening a window into your soul.

“Are you sure you want to listen along?” You mumbled. “You might not like my taste in music…”

“I’m sure,” Hanni insisted. “It’s a good way to get to know a person.”

She stretched before settling comfortably into a familiar position, arms folded on the table. She motioned for you to put your Airpods in as she put her headphones back on, before dropping her forehead on her arms. “Wake me up when you’re done studying.”

You took a glance at the pale pink loop on her finger before focusing back on your work.

The sun was beginning to set by the time you finished, the sky painted with an array of vivid yellows and oranges.

You cracked your knuckles as you quietly started to pack up, observing a sleeping Hanni. If you strained your ears, you could hear faint snores, which you found quite endearing. You thought that Hanni was much cuter when she was asleep, a stark contrast to her usual brooding demeanor. Too cute that you almost didn’t wake her up, but guilt would eat you alive if you didn’t.

You cautiously poked her shoulder. “Hanni?”

It took a few more pokes until she blearily opened her eyes, grumbling under her breath. You retracted your hand as if she would bite. “You told me to wake you up…”

You suppressed a smile at the sight of a bright red mark on her forehead. “What time is it?”

“Just about to hit 7. I’m gonna head home.”

Just as you turned to leave, Hanni somehow got out of the chair in the blink of an eye and grabbed you. “Wait.”

You swiveled back around in confusion. She rested her headphones around her neck before stuffing her hands in her pocket. “Do you need to get home urgently?”

You shook your head.

“Okay,” Hanni said simply. “Let’s go.”

You wanted to ask “Go where?”, but Hanni brushed past you and was already walking out the door. You bit your lip. Surely you could spare an hour or two, just for today. You hurriedly adjusted your backpack on your shoulder before jogging to catch up to her.

Your hands were clammy for the entire walk. The sky continued to grow darker, and all the lessons of stranger danger that your parents had taught you were flashing in your head. Maybe it was a bit stupid to blindly follow someone you had barely talked to and only known for a few months or so. Well, if Hanni ended up kidnapping or killing you, at least you died to someone pretty.

Before your thoughts could derail further, Hanni finally stopped walking. Your legs were starting to ache. The last time you got this much cardio in was when you were running late for class in high school.

You took a few seconds to absorb your surroundings. It was a small lake, the water still as it reflected the last remnants of the sunset. It was secluded — you didn’t see or hear any other signs of life besides the inevitable chirping and buzzing of random insects. Hanni seated herself on a small grassy hill that faced the water, patting the space next to her as a signal for you to sit as well.

She leaned back and rested her head against the grass as she closed her eyes. You sat down awkwardly and set your weight on your backpack, just staring at her. Is she asleep again?

“Pretty, right?” She suddenly asked. Okay, not asleep. “I come here to think a lot.”

You gently tugged her hoodie over her head. She didn’t even flinch. You didn’t want bugs to crawl into her hair. “What do you think about?”

You were caught off guard by her deflection. “How do you think your soulmate is doing?”

“What?”

“You cut off your string, right? How do you think they’re doing?”

“Oh,” you tensed. “I’m not too sure. I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.”

Hanni hummed. “You’re awfully nice.”

You hesitated before asking the pressing question on your mind. “Do you really hate the idea of soulmates that much? What if you met them?”

“I wouldn’t say hate,” Hanni clicked her tongue. “I don't really know how to explain it, but I want everything to be my choice, you know? I don’t believe in things like fate. I just happen to meet people, and I choose who I want to stay and who I want to love.”

She shifted before continuing. “And I’ve seen what the string can do. People get too attached to the idea of soulmates, but sometimes they never end up meeting them and are left heartbroken, or their soulmate turns out to be a terrible person. So what good is it, really?”

You bit your cheek as you reflected on her words. Your instinct was telling you that there was more to the story, but it wasn’t your place to ask.

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I ever met my soulmate. I wouldn’t even know it’s them, first of all. But I guess if they’re a decent person, we could start off as friends.”

Hanni finished off with a sigh. “Anyway, enough of my rant. Can you spot any constellations? Or whatever astronomy entails.”

You stared at the sky. You could see the faint twinkling of stars if you tried hard enough. The wonders of light pollution.

“I actually don’t know much about astronomy,” you answered sheepishly. “I just remember having a space phase in, like, 4th grade. And so now I just remember random facts about space and find everything about it pretty.”

Hanni opened her eyes and turned to face you. “Tell me one.”

You pursed your lip in thought for a second, racking your brain. “Magellan was the first teddy bear in space in 1995. It even got a special astronaut suit. Very charming fella.”

You showed her a picture of it on your phone with a stupid smile. You felt your face warm up as Hanni chuckled at the photo, eyes crinkling. Ah. Her smile is so cute.

You cleared your throat to alleviate your fluster. “How about you? What are you into?”

“Nothing special,” she shrugged. “Music and games. Do you play games?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “I remember illegally downloading the Sims and never playing it after my Sim randomly died from a kitchen fire.”

Hanni cracked a smile. “Happens to the best of us.”

"By the way," you said curiously. "Did you learn a lot from my music taste?"

"I did actually," she smirked with arrogance. "You seem to be the sentimental type. A romantic."

"Huh," you blinked.

"You don't need to say anything," she continued smugly. "I already know I'm right."

The buzzing of your phone cut the conversation short. Your mother was calling.

“Oh no,” you winced as you slowly got up. “I lost track of time. I should get going.”

It looked like she wanted to say something, but chose not to. “See you.”

“Don’t you have places to be?”

She flicked her gaze from the lake to you, one that was unexpectedly intense. “Yeah. But I’ll stay here for a bit longer.”

“Okay,” you lingered there for a few seconds. “Stay safe.”

You started making your way home, oddly feeling content.

As more months passed by, the lake became a spot of solace for the two of you, meeting there regularly when either of you felt like talking (mostly Hanni). It was a bit hard at first, getting used to spontaneous hangouts (usually you enjoyed the comfort and stability of routine), but Hanni’s presence was a big help. You learned a lot from her, and especially admired her self-assurance.

You cherished these times as it was an opportunity to learn more about Hanni. Like the fact that she worked at the cafe on campus, despite hating coffee.

(You wondered how you never saw her.)

And the fact that she had performed for her high school talent show and ended up being the grand winner. And the fact that she once slept through the night at the library, and then woke up to the blinding light of a security guard’s flashlight shining in her face.

The more you got to know her, the more your feelings for her grew. Which you found to be quite problematic, because you were such a firm believer of soulmates all your life. Although there was that minuscule possibility that Hanni was your soulmate, you felt as though you were betraying your soulmate by falling for someone else.

Surely, it was free real estate. Your soulmate was the one who cut the string after all. To be honest, they probably don’t care at all. You don’t know why you were creating such a fuss about it. It was your inner guilt clawing at you. Didn't liking someone who wasn't your soulmate debunk the idea of soulmates itself?

You thought about what Hanni would say. You could hear her voice in your head: Love is a choice. Soulmates shouldn’t determine who you love. As much as it conflicted with you, every time you woke up to the thought of her, you found yourself agreeing with her more and more.

You also started to like the pale pink loop on your finger more and more.

“Hey.”

You sat cross-legged on familiar ground, picking at the grass. Hanni hadn’t come to the library today, which left you embarrassingly worried, but she had texted you to meet at the lake around 15 minutes ago. The two of you exchanged contact information the week after the first lake hangout. The two of you didn’t text though. That was, until today. “What are you doing here?”

Hanni’s eyes were closed, as usual. She seemed to ponder a lot. You always wondered what was on her mind. “Thinking.”

“And you called me here because…?”

“Figured you needed a break.” The corner of her lips tugged up. You let out a small smile too. Behind her nonchalant tone and nature, she was surprisingly sweet.

“What are you thinking about this time?”

“You.”

“Me?” You sputtered. “What about me?”

Hanni let out a breath. “My bad. I should be more specific. I’m thinking about my feelings for you.”

Luckily her eyes were still closed, because your face was turning red at an alarming pace.

“Really?” You squeaked. “And what are those feelings?”

“Good feelings. Something that could grow into love, I think.” She opened her eyes to meet yours.

“Oh,” you said. “...I may share those feelings.”

She closed her eyes again, a satisfied smile on her face. “Good. We’re dating now.”

You blinked in astonishment.

“It’s that easy?” You muttered to yourself. “I thought after getting my string cut, I’d never find love again.”

Hanni abruptly sat up. “What?”

You blanched at her cold tone. “What?”

“You didn’t cut your string?”

Shit. The air became tense, her anger palpable. Your hands tightened around a patch of grass. You bit your lip in shame. “...I’m sorry.”

“When?”

You looked at her in confusion.

“When was it cut?” She asked, exasperated.

“December,” you murmured, your throat clogging up. “The 4th of December.”

“Fuck!” She turned away. “That’s when I cut mine.”

Oh. She stood up and started pacing around in circles, running her hand through her hair in what you thought to be frustration. There was a whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest — fear, guilt, regret, but also joy, as crazy as it sounded.

Hanni was your soulmate. You had to repeat that to yourself internally to really process it. Of course it would be her. Who else would it be?

You pulled yourself back to reality. Reality being a very distressed Hanni who would blow up and ghost you if you didn’t do something.

“Why did you lie?” You hated how you could hear the raspiness in her voice.

You desperately tried to explain yourself. “I panicked the first time we met. But I never thought to tell you after that because I thought you would hate me for believing in soulmates."

“I’m not that spiteful. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if you believed in soulmates.”

“But we wouldn’t be where we are now,” you reasoned, your voice raw. “We started talking because we bonded over the fact that we both cut our strings.”

“Look at where we’re at now,” Hanni bitterly muttered. “I feel like our relationship is a lie.”

“It’s not,” you stammered. “This doesn’t have to change anything.”

Hanni whipped her head around with a glare. “Of course it changes everything!”

Her eyes softened when you flinched at the harshness of her voice. “Look, it’s just that I genuinely thought that I could finally be loved without either of us being bound by a stupid string.”

You plucked out another strand of grass. “There’s another reason, isn’t there? Of why you hate soulmates so much.”

She stopped walking back and forth. “Yeah.”

“Might as well air everything out, right?” You offered a wry smile.

Silence. You thought that this was the end, but she sat down, a bit further from you than before, and spoke again. “Long story short: I was in love. She was in love with me too. A year into the relationship, she got her string. She didn’t tell me. She just broke up with me and blocked me on everything. Found out days later when one of my friends told me about her new relationship with her soulmate.”

You wanted to reach out and grab her hand to comfort her, but that would have probably just made her hate you more.

“I’m sorry,” you swallowed, an ache in your chest. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Now that I know we’re soulmates, how do I know if any of our feelings are true? What if this whole relationship, from when we first met to now, was all because of ‘fate’?” Hanni said in a flurry, aggressively ripping out grass. “How much of my feelings are really mine?”

You flattened your hands in the grass to stop them from trembling. “I don’t know. But if we both like each other despite not knowing that we’re soulmates, and even after the fact that our string is cut, doesn’t that mean something? That this was our choice?”

Another pause. You held your breath.

“I need some time to think,” Hanni closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. “You should get going.”

You shakily stood up and took one last glance at her before turning around to leave, your voice small. “Stay safe.”

You didn’t see Hanni for the next two weeks. She didn’t turn up to the library, and you didn’t expect her to. You still felt a pang of disappointment regardless.

The revelation that Hanni was your soulmate weighed heavily in your mind. But that wasn’t the main issue. It was Hanni’s reaction to the fact that created an uneasy feeling in your chest. You found humor in the way that the thread that binded you together ended up being the thread that unraveled everything.

You cried for the first few nights, because you knew it was all your fault. It was like reliving that day in December all over again. At least you got some form of closure though — an explanation as to why your string was cut. But eventually, you accepted the fact that if this was to work out, you would both have to make a deliberate choice.

Your choice being to wait, and Hanni's being to forgive. You once believed love was all about fate, but after meeting Hanni, you learned that it was about choice, too.

You carried on with your routine as usual, but Hanni’s absence followed you wherever you went. The library room felt emptier, quieter. You just hoped that she was okay, wherever she was.

Was it selfish of you to be celebrating the fact that Hanni was your soulmate, when she clearly resented it? Your feelings for her didn’t change, they were the same before and after the realization that you were soulmates. Again, you hoped she would come to the same conclusion too, and still feel the same.

You didn't try to reach out to her or to find her working on campus. She needed the time and space, and you promised yourself you would wait for her.

The next time you met was not planned. It was a Wednesday, like always, and you had just finished a grueling 3-hour study session. The sky was particularly pink today, and it reminded you of Hanni. You found that a lot of things would remind you of her these days. You missed her greatly.

You decided to go to the lake. You lay down on the grass, closing your eyes. Doing this made you feel closer to Hanni somehow. Your mind meandered and you could imagine her here, doing the exact same thing. The solitude of the lake brought some temporary peace to your restlessness.

You got lost in your thoughts for the next hour before you heard the sound of footsteps, steadily growing louder and louder. Fear ran through your veins before you relaxed at the sound of Hanni’s voice.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied, voice hoarse. You kept your eyes closed. You didn't think you could handle Hanni’s gaze for this conversation. You felt her sit down next to you, her hand brushing against yours. You tried to ignore the goosebumps that followed and the heat radiating off her body.

It was silent for the next few minutes. After a bit, you opened your mouth to speak, but Hanni beat you to it.

“Did you really not know we were soulmates?”

“No,” you confessed. “I knew there was a small possibility, but I thought it was too good to be true.”

You swallowed as there was no response. “...How are you feeling?”

You heard her sigh. “Confused.”

“Can I tell you what my parents said when I asked them for advice?” You asked tentatively.

Hanni made a small noise of approval.

“They told me that the string doesn’t mean you don’t have a choice. The two can coexist. They said there are plenty of people who meet their soulmates, but choose to be friends. And that they can still end up in a happy relationship with someone else.”

You gave yourself time to breathe before continuing. "I know that what happened in the past hurt you. But, don't let that define your view on soulmates. I think love is choice as much as it is fate."

“Thank you,” she breathed out after a while. “I think I realized that in the past two weeks, but I’m just stubborn.”

“And just to be clear,” you started slowly. “I still would have feelings for you. Soulmate or not.”

You felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders as she replied, “Me too.”

“Hanni,” you bit your lip to stop a growing smile as you tested the waters. “Are we still dating like you said?”

Your smile only widened as you heard her laugh. “That didn’t count.”

Your ears perked up as the sound of Hanni shuffling around filled the air.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just keep your eyes closed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you felt something wrap around your ring finger, but your doubt quickly washed away as you recognized her movement. You waited for her to finish before opening your eyes.

You looked down to see a very real, tangible pink string connecting your ring finger to hers. You grinned as you tugged on it. This was infinitely better than the red string.

“Now it’s official,” Hanni huffed, turning away to look at the lake with the tip of her ears colored pink.

Your heart was full, it felt as though it could erupt at any given moment. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Hanni smiled softly. “And thank you to the string for leading us to each other.”

The two of you watched the sun dip below the horizon, bathing in the soft pink and purple hues.

You think that pink is definitely your favorite color now, though red would always be a close second.

("...There's no more secrets between us right?"

"No," you quietly chuckled. "That's all I have. You?"

"I..." Hanni cleared her throat. "Remember the first time we met? I actually didn't book the room."

You almost broke your neck from how fast you whipped your head to face her. "What?"

There was a guilty smile on her face. "Usually, I just storm into a random room and say that to kick people out. People just believe me and leave."

"Wow," you said in disbelief. Of course Hanni would do something like that. "So why did you let me stay?"

"To be honest, you were kind of pissing me off because of how long you were taking to pack up, and I just wanted to sleep," she admitted sheepishly. "But, let's just say that it was fate."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. "Right. Fate.")

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #pham hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader

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cozage · 1 year

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Festivals with the OP Boys

Characters: f! reader x Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace

A/n: This is based off the (VERY Southern USA) festivals I’ve been to. I know these are not all universal experiences, so give me a little grace

Luffy

An absolute fiend at festivals. Thank god you’ve been saving up money for this. He heads straight for the carnival section without hesitation.

Did he hear eating contest??? If so, Luffy is entering it (and winning).

And you are cheering him on!! No surprise to either of you, he wins a nice berry prize (that you all spend immediately at the festival)

He wants all the prizes. He can’t pick, each one is cooler than the last. He finally asks you which one you love the most, and you point out a small stuffed animal. Of course, he finds the exact replica 10x bigger a few booths down and decides on that one.

He is DETERMINED to win you that giant stuffed animal. You know all those games are rigged so you remind him that it’s not a big deal.

But once Luffy puts his mind to something…well, you know how it goes.

Ends up breaking the bottles and putting a hole in the booth at the ball toss game. The guy gives you two stuffed animals just to get you all away from his booth.

You all are shuffled away, hand-in-hand, laughing so hard you’re almost crying. Luffy’s laugh is just so contagious

Now that he’s passed all the games, he finally notices it. All of the SUPER COOL RIDES!!!!

INSTANTLY takes off towards them and begins pulling you. Luckily, you know how to stand your ground with him. Unluckily, you’re dating a rubber man who can stretch and keep running.

You hold onto his ever-stretching hand while you stand in line to get ride tickets. At least he’ll be easy to find once you’re done.

He wants to ride all of the rides. Again and again. He’s obsessed with the crazy whip-around rides like the Sizzler, Zipper, and Drop Zone

You HAVE to ride with him too. He refuses to do it alone. He gives you those sweet puppy eyes when you object at first and you instantly cave.

LOVES LOVES LOVES THE FRIED FOOD. You had to stop taking him up to the order window because every time he saw something he immediately wanted it.

Just a constant switch between eating food and riding rides. You have no idea how he’s not getting sick.

Eventually you trade off riding partners and he starts riding with Zoro (“If you can’t handle a KIDS ride, Zoro, how are you going to be the best swordsman in the world??”)

Luffy pouts at first until he realizes that you have a different snack every time he gets off a ride, then he’s magically okay with this new decision.

Ends with fireworks and he loves them so much. Wants to go buy some so you guys can set them off on the ship every night

He carries everything back to the ship for you. You have a sinking suspicion those stuffed animals will have a permanent residence in his room, though

Zoro

Festivals aren’t really his style, but he knew you wanted to go, so he made an exception

Holds your hand the whole time (he knows that getting separated from you means he’ll be lost forever)

Will mock you for wanting to win a prize, and reminds you that it’s all a scam anyway.

However, after your second failed attempt, he can see you’re getting frustrated, so he takes over.

And of course wins you the biggest stuffed animal possible first try with a smirk on his face. You’re so happy you kiss him on the cheek in front of all those random people, which makes him turn beet red. He secretly is feeling great though because he won it first try!!!

He instantly has regret now because he has to carry it all day. He’s embarrassed at first but eventually he gets used to it and carries it around with pride.

After you win a prize, neither of you are really interested in sticking around the carnival portion. There’s so many people and noises it’d be easy for even you to get lost.

You all head to and stick to the quiet side parts of the festival instead. He likes to wander through the craft fair and selling booths with you.

He pays special attention to when your eyes linger on a certain item, or when you get excited about booths. He tries to keep a mental note of those things for future reference

Zoro isn’t a materialistic man, but he does like to buy you things every now and then (when he can afford it). He sees your eyes light up over a particular bracelet and when you try it on he can see how much you love it. “Keep it on” he whispers softly in your ear, and passes a few gold coins to the merchant.

You guys end your evening at a tea house, sipping on sake and munching on light snacks.

You stay there for a few hours, just enjoying the quiet and each others company.

He asks if you want to stay for fireworks, but honestly you’re exhausted. He gives you a piggy back ride back to the Sunny while carrying your giant stuffed animal.

You all pause for a moment when the fireworks begin, but after a few seconds you continue on your way back home.

Sanji

Of course he wants to try the food and critique it

It’s not exactly nutritious which he doesn’t like, but it is giving him some ideas on how to add different elements to his cooking

He knows he’s dragging you all over the food district to try the samples and the specials and he loves you so much for that (you don’t really mind though because hey free delicious food)

You all wander around and find the carnival section. You try the fried food, which is equal parts delicious and horrendous to the both of you

As you wander through the games, you see a really adorable stuffed animal and point it out to Sanji

You didn’t even say you wanted it. You just noted how cute it was. But oh he’s winning that thing for you now.

But he’s not very good at games unfortunately :/ especially luck based games

He tries to keep his cool but you can see he’s getting frustrated. It doesn’t help that his determination has sent you into short bursts of laughter

Finally FINALLY he picks the right one and wins you that cute adorable stuffed animal

You thank him with a peck on the cheek and he MELTS

At sunset he drags you to the Ferris wheel and you see him slip the guy a few coins

Magically you all end at the top of the Ferris wheel right as the sun sets over the sea!!! How coincidental!!!

“Y’know, when you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel, you’re supposed to-“

You cut him off by pulling him in for a long kiss. You’re both blushing hard by the time the Ferris wheel comes back down. You’re honestly a little surprised Sanji is still conscious.

Sanji has already picked out a perfect spot for you two to watch the fireworks. There’s a band playing in the main square and the music echos up to where you all are sitting on the hill. You dance together to the music while waiting for the fireworks to start.

Once the fireworks begin, you stand and watch in awe, embraced in each others arms.

You all walk back to the sunny arms linked. Your new stuffed animal in your arm and some festival-exclusive ingredients in his.

Ace

Wants to do every. single. thing. Doesn’t matter if he’s actually interested in it or not

He’s the kind of guy who’s at the festival all day long. There’s always something to do and you can’t miss out on anything. Hope you wore comfortable shoes (you didn’t).

His hands are always full. He has your hand in one and some kind of beverage or food in another.

Ace is the kind of person who switches between energetic puppy and lazy bones energy throughout the day, and you never really know when that switch will happen.

In the morning, you all wander through the craft fair. The crafts don’t really interest him, but he perks up a bit whenever he sees you interested in something.

You find a custom jewelry maker booth, and as you’re browsing the works, he gets the craftsman to make you a bracelet that matches the bead pattern on his hat. Now you can both match, and everyone knows who you belong to.

You play every single carnival game together at least once. Ace doesn’t even care if you guys are good at it. He just wants to try it. Theres some fun competition that exists during those games between the two of you that results in MANY small little prizes like goldfish, mini stuffed animals, and other silly trinkets.

You guys have won so many prizes by halfway through the carnival section, you can’t really hold anymore, so Ace starts giving them to kids as you pass by them. You’re stuck with the goldfish though. He’s already named it and very attached to it.

You all take a food break, and find the weirdest food you can. You find a nice shaded and quiet spot to eat in peace.

Ace naturally falls asleep on you while eating, and you use the few minutes he’s resting to people watch and just enjoy the quiet moments with him.

When he wakes up he is REELING for more adventure and things to do.

You all come across a mechanical bull riding event, and for one of the first times that day, Ace pulls away from you and drops your hand, bounding away to go sign up for it.

Before it starts, he tips his hat towards you and gives you that signature wink that makes your heart burst.

The devious part of you wanted to see him thrown off immediately, but he’s actually pretty good at it. He lasts a whole minute before he’s thrown face first into an inflatable cushion.

When he comes back to you, he instantly intertwines your fingers through his again. “Did you like the show?” He says with another wink, which results in a playful exchanges of shoves to one another.

You all ride a few carnival rides. You start out with some big rides like the Flying Swings and the Drop Zone, but the crazy rides aren’t mixing well with the food you ate earlier, so you opt for some less intense ones, like the Merry-Go-Round, Ferris wheel, and the Super Slide.

You two find a personal love for the Bumper Cars. You love the competitive side you all can embrace, but also (thanks to some extra silver) the ride operator let you two ride tandem a few times as well.

Theres a free concert occurring and you all grab a seat on the hill to enjoy the music. Ace runs and grabs some dinner for the two of you.

Instant regret for trusting him to pick out the food. He comes back with the most abhorrent monstrosity of fried food combo you’ve ever seen. And he does it with the widest, snide grin on his face. Bastard.

You all doze off to the music and wake up to the explosions of fireworks a little while later.

After the fireworks, you walk back together, with him occasionally poking you in the side, picking you up to spin you around, just random things to make you squeal and giggle.

Your feet are killing you when you get back to the ship, so he gives you a nice foot massage, bless his soul.

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evilminji · 3 months

Text

Back on my DpxNaruto ideas cause there's room for SHENANIGANS~!

You ever go on a BIT of a road trip? To a Really Good Restaurant you've heard exsists waaaaay that away? And it's far... but not Unreasonably Far(TM)? You could make it a day trip! Maybe check out the surrounding area! Buy some other stuff or see the sights.

You got a long weekend.

And you heard it's REAL good.

Imagine~! If you will! Broke ass, scruffy, Built Like His Father, Feral Like His Mother, "just here for the snacks, man" type College Student type Danny! A GIANT. Perpetually reeks of engineering oils and the unplace-able yet universally familiar scent of Ectoplasm. And? Probably whatever high-end self care products Sam's mom sends her, since Tucker can't use um.

He eats like a bottomless VOID because somehow he's STILL growing. Will be for centuries. Long after his HUMAN half stops? His ghost half is gonna keep going.

Sucks, man. :/

He hungy.

But he already SPENT his monthly budget on that part he desperately needed. And cheap ramen sucks after the fifth meal in a row. And it's not like he can go fishing or anything. So what to do???

Visit... lunch lady? Maybe? He considers?

He figures "Why Not?". Makes a portal and lazily floats towards the Box-Lady Lair. But? So deep in though is he? He doesn't look where he's GOING and *gentle bonk* oop! Oh man! He's so sorry!

Some giant dude in armor with a HUGE mane of hair. The guy just laughs good naturedly, says it's fine. And turns out? They're going the same way! He's part of Lunch Lady's Cooking Club. Oh, sweet! Danny's heard she started one of those...

But wait! If he's heading over? Is the club NOW?

No, no! He's assured. The guy also watchs Lunch Box for them. He's good with kids, comes with being part of a big clan.

They get talking. Danny fascinated. Ninjas, huh? Cool. And that's when? The guy drops, with no small amount of pride, the little tidbit.... that oh by the way~ no big DEAL~☆

But WE produced some of the BEST cooks in the ENTIRE known world.

Okay now he HAS to try this food. This guy is waxing poetic about it. Descriptions that make him actively drool. Mentioning how this aunt ran THIS stall and that nephew was learning at THAT restaurant. And Danny just? W... Where did you say this was?

Hell yeah! Direction? Achieved!

Danny gonna get him some FANCY BBQ! \( ^ - ^ )/

Smash cut to him making a day of it. Finding the right area. Asking around. Trading some stuff from the Speeder to a dude for not only the location body but permission to take his wallet. Guy says he can have it in return for a travel chess set and a proper grave. Nice!

So he locks up the Speeder, squeezes past the weird "Summon Realms" bubbles, dodges the SUPER cranky Shinigami, aaaaand? We're in! BBQ here we come! It's takes like? Basically nothing to find the guy's body. He's supposed to burn it, put it in an urn, and deliver it to one of some Deer clan near the BBQ shop. Along with his stuff.

Hope they don't mind ice urns.

Just? Imagine A Void. Like Vanta Black. A hole in the world in the shape of where a man SHOULD be. Where ANYTHING should be. You can see through it, the color of simple existence fighting to make your eyes overlook What Is Not. Were it 2D, you know you would be able to see it clearly, but in the presence of a third dimension?

It's Not There.

You are LOOKING at it... and everything it is, is Empty. Void. A perfect Nothing.

Not hot or cold, neither light nor dark, just... Not There. With Chakra being present in all life. Air, the soil beneath you, all of it. This is? A perfect shadow upon the world. No suppressed Chakra, no hidden bloodline trick.

It's like the Patron Spirit(s) of the Ino-Shika-Cho decided to come and visit.

Or, more accurately, the SON of one such spirit decided to sneak off and visit. He has the height, the hunger, and the gregarious nature. The perfect shadow, the black hair, and the incredible intelligence. And those blue eyes? The ability to dive into bodies and take them over? (He wanted to see if he could do it WHILE his "new friend" was doing it to someone)

Most terrifying, though? APPARENTLY his mother? Was some Uzumaki Spirit. Red hair, purple eyes, his dad fell in love with her at first ass-kicking defeat. Terrifying women and Nara's, man. Good to know it even transcends biology. Even their GAURDIAN SPIRITS fall to it.

Now the question?

What sort is THIS one? And can they, POLITELY, make it leave?

@babbling-babull @lolottes @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter

#dpxnaruto #dpxnaruto prompt #bbq road trip au

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aemoonie · 2 years

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dating svt's hip hop unit ✰

somebody pinch me 😰 henna writing again? and for svt?? unheard of 🤭 i tried to change the format of these a little, so lmk how it is! <3 | gn!reader, mlist. wc: ~1k cw: fluffy af, based on their natal charts

✰ SEUNGCHEOL

leo sun, mercury and venus

he knows what he wants and may have high expectations of himself and his partner. but he is a very loving person, absolutely not afraid to show his love. he wants the same energy from the person he loves, and he will melt anytime his s/o praises him even in the slightest. is the most loyal partner, and will fight for what he loves and wants. loves gifts, and romance and takes pride in his romantic side. may be prone to jealousy and possessiveness because he has no intention of sharing his s/o or their attention. with his airy mars, he will probably get whiny when he needs some love from his s/o <3

cap moon, libra mars

he may take his time to fully warm up to someone new, and maybe someone he is friends with first will make him feel more comfortable as a partner. it's hard to get through his shell and make him open up because he himself may sometimes lack in checking up on how he is feeling. he is far from cold or detached however, his leo stellium and libra mars balance out his cap moon quite well in my opinion. he can be flirty when he wants to and loves LOVES talking to his s/o! the type to take better care of you than of himself :( <3

dating seungcheol is like finding comfort in a person. like warm embraces, head-pats and hushed promises. like inside jokes and leaning against each other as you laugh. like sweaty hands refusing to let go of each other during summer. like not being able to sleep without being in each other's arms.

✰ WONWOO

cancer sun, leo moon, leo mercury

he is committed, he is loving and he is romantic. he likes knowing what he's on with the person he likes. i don't think he would be the type to actively hide his interest in someone, but it will be hard to notice anyway (it's the resting c: face lmao). he loves hard though, but with his airy venus and mars he may have a hard time placing these heavy emotions. also a sucker for praise and compliments, and would get so so shy when his s/o is the one giving it to him.

gemini venus and mars

he likes variety and needs mental stimulation in a relationship! he'd love someone witty and smart, who likes to have fun with him. i think someone playful would help get him out of his shell. is the type to randomly check up on you during the day, maybe he texts you during lunch or sends you a small reminder to eat and drink enough! it's the little things with him that make a difference. do the same to him and you'll catch him giggling and blushing at his phone smh :')

dating wonwoo is calm and sweet. like finding little notes in your pockets from him, like smelling his cologne on practically everything he touches. like finding your favorite snacks in his bag and sharing earbuds. like finding each other's eyes from the other side of the room and quietly checking up on one another.

✰ MINGYU

aries sun and venus, pisces moon

mingyu loves deeply and passionately. he is impulsive and may go into a romance head first, he is likely the type to fall head over heels for someone right away. his earth placements could try to shake some sense into him, so i can imagine him being shy in his passionate nature. he probably like to test the waters beforehand and may idealize his s/o, especially at the beginning of a relationship. loves love though, he wouldn't it trade it for the world.

taurus mercury, virgo mars

a little stubborn and set in his ways, mingyu likes to be organized and will probably not like someone overly messy or wishy-washy who would lead him on. i think genuine people will fuel his interest way more. he would love to do acts of service for his s/o and would genuinely be over the moon if they tell him how much it means to them. he is someone who can be very rational and could need some time when arguments happen, but with his pisces moon, he is easy to soften up <3

dating mingyu is like knowing the other's favorite orders inside out, it's bear hugs and soft kisses, homemade dishes, and lukewarm tea. it's freshly washed towels, vanilla soap and warm baths. it's getting ready for bed together in the middle of the night, blasting music, and pulling faces in the mirror.

✰ VERNON

aquarius sun, mercury, capricorn venus

a bit aloof sometimes, maybe even a bit clueless, but he is committed throughout. the best friend type of boyfriend. will need time and trust to open up and similar to seungcheol, he sometimes doesn't know himself what he feels. he could go decades admiring his crush from afar unless he is suddenly struck with a boost in confidence (likely from one of his close friends). will probably love domestic or chill dates like movie nights, shopping dates, or visiting museums. more the act of service type of person, but quality time might be just as important to him.

scorpio moon, pisces mars

under his clueless demeanor, there is a big big heart, someone just needs to dig it up hehe! i said he needs time to pursue a crush, but his water placements suggest that he would fall hard for them regardless. his scorpio moon (and cap venus) make him a pretty loyal person, he'd be the type to be stunned if his partner ever expressed the fear to be left by him. his pisces mars would have such a soft spot for his s/o, he'd likely idealize them a bit in his head. i think he'd like someone genuine but dreamy, who is artsy and committed.

dating vernon is like wearing your favorite oversized hoodie, sharing an umbrella on a somber afternoon in the city. it's hot coffee and intertwined fingers, finding weird pictures and going "that's you". it's shared meals and laughing with just one look, knowing smiles from others, and doing kind of everything together.

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: Pride (Intro)

In which sometimes you'll have to be reminded where you came from to appreciate where you are now.

Tags/Warnings: Tiger!hybrid Jungkook, Cat!Hybrid reader, strangers to lovers, sort of soulmate AU?, Fluff & minor angst

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-

"Thank you SO much, you won't ever believe how much you saved me!" Hoseok hugs the tiger hybrid as he takes the plastic bags from his friend. "I just had my hands full the entire day with them all-" The human rambles, but Jungkook waves him off, as he takes off his shoes.

"Don't worry, it was on the way anyways." He reassures, familiar with his friend's apartment's layout at this point. There's little hybrids running around, none older than maybe five it seems- the only older one being Taehyung, a familiar face in Hoseok's apartment since the lion hybrid officially lives with him permanently. Jungkook greets him with a smile, one that's returned silently, as the lion is currently holding onto a sleeping hybrid child on his lap. "Did you wash something in here?" Jungkook wonders, bringing some of the bags in the kitchen.

"No?" Hoseok wonders. "Why?" He asks, putting the groceries away in their respective places while the younger hybrid helps.

"Just wondering." He shrugs, throwing the empty bag into the bin close by. "How come they dropped so many kids at yours this time?" He asks.

"A raid." Hoseok grimly explains. "Underground trading, again. It's the second one this year." He sighs. "There's really no end to it, is there? One gets shut down, just for another to pop up.." He mumbles, watching the children play around.

"It'll get better." Jungkook tries to help, though he himself barely believes it as well. "What's with all the strawberry milk?" He wonders, watching his human friend put all the little juice boxes and bottles of said strawberry milk into the fridge.

"Ah, that's for angel. She doesn't really have a name, so we just call her whatever for now." He says, taking one out before looking at Taehyung, who's still trying to get all the young hybrids to take a nap. "I'll bring her one later, when they're quiet. The kids might stress her out too much. She's not good at handling a lot of sensory input." He explains.

"Another hybrid?" He asks, and Hoseok nods.

"Housecat hybrid. Brought back recently, but the social workers gave no reason as to why. Just said she's back, nothing else." Hoseok sighs, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what has happened to her. She won't talk, seems nice, but a bit clingy. She's alone right now only because of the kids." He explains to Jungkook, who nods.

"You want me to bring this to her?" He wonders, pointing to the tiny snack and bottle of milk presumably for you. Hoseok shrugs.

"Sure. She's in the left guest-room." He tells the tiger, who nods, before walking to where his friend had told him you'd be hiding in. As soon as he gets closer, that smell becomes stronger too- an oddly floral but soft scent, sweet but not too overbearing. It's a nice smell- but nothing he's ever quite noticed ever before.

"Hey- Hoseok asked me to bring you something to eat?" He asks quietly, knocking on the slightly ajar door, before he looks around. There doesn't seem to be anybody there- oh.

There you are.

You're watching him from the corner of the room, wrapped up in a blanket, seemingly having just woken up from a nap. You're nothing he's not seen before- a standard cat hybrid, maybe a bit on the shorter side, but probably his age, give or take a little. But something just seems to pull a purr from his chest, a buzzing feeling making him all warm and soft at the sight of you just merely looking at him. And the moment you yawn, tiny sharpened teeth showing, he's a goner.

You've got him captured, tamed, by doing absolutely nothing it seems.

He sits down a bit closer to you, gives you your small sandwich and your milk. You're purring, loudly so, and he loves the sound of it already. Your lips seem a bit chapped, bitten raw in some spots which seems to be due to nervousness and stress- and it's understandable. Not only have you been given away and removed from your home, but you've been basically betrayed and brought into a hectic environment that's probably not the best option for you.

Jungkook has always wanted to do something good for a bigger cause. Maybe he's just found his chance of doing so.

You remind him of himself, in a way. You're not scared, rather curious- quiet, but not dismissive, or uninterested. He likes you, clearly, it's pretty obvious that you're his mate even though it makes zero sense as you're a housecat and not a tiger, and he himself isnt even the same hybrid level- but he won't think about that.

He's found you, and he's going to make sure he won't let you down like you've been let down before.

"Figured something like that." Hoseok chuckles, watching how Jungkook opens the bottle of strawberry milk for you, as your tail snaps up a little.

"Huh?" Jungkook asks, his ears twisting and turning a bit in embarrassment as he tries to play it cool.

"Oh, come on now, Jungkook." He laughs. "I already knew something was up when you kept noticing a strange smell." He informs the tiger. "You might be a Level 2 but you're still a hybrid down the line, no matter how independent." He laughs.

"Well- ah, leave me alone!" He growls playfully, making your tail swish from side to side in amusement, clearly happy at the mood in the room. Jungkook himself wants to just pick you right up and carry you home. You're already melting his heart with nothing else but a smile.

"Oh, I will!" Hoseok says. "But I doubt she will now." He teases, making Jungkook smile.

Well he sure hopes you won't.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic

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cellard0ors · 9 days

Note

80’s Hackearney Drabble idea, comin’ in hot!

Snack Time at Hackett’s Quarry

- popsicles or soft serve ice cream maybe?

- maybe something more wholesome, like juicy watermelon slices that inevitably dribble down someone’s chin?

- do the campers and counsellors ever have to do their own baking, and if so, poor young Travis having to put up with various “bun in oven” and “buttered muffin” jokes from the others

Hell yes, sweet treats!

It's the second Saturday in June at Hackett's Summer Camp and apparently it's known as Sweet Saturday. Laura's informed that this is the day all the campers work on making sweet treats to trade with one another.

The treats don't have to be particularly difficult - just fun to put together. Laura's never considered herself much of a cook - hell, before this she wasn't even a very good waitress, aka the person who delivers the food - but luckily she gets the youngest campers.

The idea of using fruit juice to make easy popsicles via ice trays pleases them immensely and even Laura finds herself having fun as she helps the little kids carefully pour their chosen juice into the tray's little cups - sticking toothpicks in their centers.

As the evening rolls in the treats start being swapped and Laura can't help but feel a glow of pride as she sees the tiny popsicles floating around among the cookies, muffins, and slices of cake.

The cake really intrigues her, as it doesn't look like an ordinary cake, which she discovers is the truth when she's presented with a slice by Chris, "Here! Take some icebox cake!"

It's always beyond bizarre when Laura is faced with a young Chris. After all, he was - in many ways - the kick off for her woes in 2021. But now, in 1986, he's young and innocent and eager to please as he forces the small paper plate on her, "C'mon - join T and me. We've got a great spot!"

Laura gamely follows along, seeing Travis resting against a tall, thick tree near the dock. Travis is picking at his food, as if unsatisfied with it when he catches sight of her with his sibling.

His back goes ramrod straight even as he pushes his glasses by the bridge up his nose. He gives her that awkward (annoying) endearing (goofy) smile as he greets her with a quiet, "Uh, hey."

"Hey." Laura returns just as noncommittally even as Chris takes a seat next to Travis and beams, "Brought Laura over to snack with us. Hope that's okay."

Travis shoots Chris a look that Laura recognizes as a secret, brother-based look. While she doesn't have siblings of her own, Laura's been friends with, and seen enough, brothers and sisters shoot one another that look - the inside kind that only they understand, to get that that's what she's seeing.

However, if the look shot his way bothers him, Chris doesn't show it as he digs into his large collection of treats, chocolate melting all over his fingers as he breaks apart a cookie

Laura sits across from the brothers and watches with quiet amusement until Chris asks, "You have a favorite yet, Laura? These cookies from Nancy's group is my favorite so far."

"I haven't tried them yet."

"Oh! You gotta! Here!" Chris offers her half of the cookie he just tore into and she takes it, feeling a slight pang of guilt as she does so.

Jesus, she led the charge to kill this guy in the future and here he's giving her a cookie. Still, she pushes the thought aside and tries to act normal, biting into the treat and trying to enjoy it.

Chris nudges Travis and chuckles, "Don't worry! She has some of your cake too!"

Travis looks at her and Laura feels like she's chewing in the most unattractive way possible so she swallows a big hunk of what's left in her mouth and then coughs, clearing her throat as she holds up the paper plate Chris gave her.

Travis's lips squirm like he's fighting off a smile. Chris has no resistance, smiling widely, "It's our Grandma's recipe! Ma taught us!"

"She did, huh." Laura tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Mrs. Hackett is the last thing she wants to hear about when she's trying to enjoy something sweet.

"Yup! It's got vanilla pudding and graham crackers and whipped cream and-!"

"She doesn't need the ingredient list, bud." Travis grumbles and Chris rolls his eyes, "Whatever. You're just upset they didn't have watermelons this year."

Laura's eyebrows rise, "You like watermelons?"

Every time she learns something new about Travis it's always so... surprising. She can't say why, other than the fact that - as her jailor - he'd seemed so remote and distant. So cold. As if he didn't like anything past being a bastard.

But in this time - when he's young and open - she's slowly uncovered more and more about him and each thing seems more startling than the last.

"You bet he does! Sometimes we have spitting contests with the seeds!"

Travis looks appropriately mortified at this and Laura can't help the genuine laugh that escapes her. Clearly hoping to continue his entertaining streak, Chris rattles on, "You should see him go! His face gets all wet and sloppy and the juice dribbles down his chin from chowing down and he makes all these noises and-!"

"Shut it, doofus!" Travis hisses and he pushes hard at his brother's shoulder. Normally Laura might object, but Chris's innocent descriptions and the way Travis's face started to turn pink hints to something that makes her feel... peculiar.

Like she'd like to see Travis's face wet with the clear juice of the watermelon. His lips shiny...

Laura fans at herself and excuses it as an unexpected spike in the temperature, nevermind that the sun is setting. She takes a bite of the icebox cake and hums in approval. It is pretty good and Chris, over his momentary annoyance with Travis, smiles again, "You like it?!"

"Yeah." She confesses, feeling like it's a dirty secret, "I do."

"Good! He made it!" Chris boasts, pointing to Travis and Laura gets the sudden impression that the younger Hackett is attempting to play as a wingman.

Good lord.

Travis, for his part, just avoids her eyes and shakes his head, "It's nothing. Besides, I had help."

"That's me!" Chris crows, "I was in his group!"

"Yeah, yeah - you did okay, squirt." Travis ruffles his brother's hair and Laura can't help but grin. Much like the desserts they've been consuming, the Hackett brothers are a sweet pair.

So much so that it's a shame for her to know how things end. And how they end bittersweet.

#hackearney #travis x laura #surprise Chris Hackett appearance!

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assortedvillainvault · 6 months

Note

So I have the most random request for hc's with Jafar. [if you want to obv]. What if his s/o was a demi-god [possibly the child of a god of knowledge] BUT they don't tell anyone. Their dad just shows up one day and thats how he finds out.

Anon your patience for getting this answered is immeasurable. I decided to make the 'god of knowledge' here Hermes, since in the myths Hermes' domain is messenger, lies, travel and creator of the alphabet - which is pretty awesome!

Pls accept these humble headcannons!

Jafar x Demigod!S/O

- You did not intend for this to happen.

- You had had the good sense to lay low and get the hell out of Greece: Your dad Hermes may be one of the more ‘chill’ gods, but you have no interest in getting to know the disaster that is your extended family. Hermes was even weirdly encouraging about you jumping ship, but as the heavenly messenger, you suppose he’s just happy that you’re travelling and putting your skills to use.

- You went overseas, studied languages, got to know the trade routes and built a life for yourself in Agrabah. You even got hired to advise the Sultans government and landed yourself a tall dark and twisted boyfriend to boot!

- You decide to write home one day, idly, just to let your mother (and dad) know you’re alive and things are going ok.

- You...really should have remembered. Hermes is juggling about 50 jobs on the daily and in his haste sometimes...forgets things. Like the fact you’re trying to pass as a regular mortal.

- So three days later when your Dad in all his jazzy, turquoise glory whizzes into the palace, squeezes you up into a giant hug, ruffles your hair and presses a plate of snacks from home into your hands – all while chatting a million miles an hour and letting you know just how proud he is-! - and then proceeds to whiz out again with a cheery ‘Knock ‘em dead kiddo!”, you knew you fucked up.

- Jafar’s knuckles were white around his staff.

- ...oh dear.

- Jafar prides himself on being the most informed person in any room at all times. You think he rose to Grand Vizier and maintained his position by being idle?? Hypnosis, blackmail and murder aside, Jafar has worked DAMN HARD – he takes study and acquisition of intelligence extremely seriously.

- This man, even when in his evil wizard tower in his underwear and swamped under a metric ton of sultan-induced paperwork, can tell you what is happening on the streets of Agrabah and half the civilisations across the desert at any one time.

- And you. Lied to him.

- You, of all people, his most trusted confidant, deliberately and intentionally kept your divine lineage and (presumably) powers hidden from him.

- (if Jafar ever deigns to think about the fact that you kept this from everyone, not just him, there’s a 50/50 chance it would send him into a deeper spiral because he’s supposed to be better than those plebeians and you managed to not only keep this information from him, but LIE to his face about it the entire time-?!)

- Reader if his world would stop fucking spinning he’d congratulate you and then probably attempt to bowl you down the stairs, Iago’s just gonna hang on your shoulder for a bit until the mans paranoia and bitterness stope teetering on the edge of homicide.

- he’s not threatened why on earth would you think that he’s threatened by the fact you’re a half divine being of Fucking Knowledge now hold sTILL-

- It’s... going to take a few days for him to simmer down and stop plotting contingency measures.

- Then he’ll let his greed overtake his self preservation and think about all the ways he can rope you into his schemes to take over Agrabah. The 180 from thin lipped barely contained murderous rage to overtly-looming-hyper-sleaze is dizzying. Iago is facepalming in the back.

- All in all, he’d be up in your business waaaay more than he was before, but he does (eventually) get over it enough to use you as a blatant flex. Of course you only had eyes for him, little jewel, clearly only he had the intellect to match such a divine gift as yours~

- (trip him on the stairs, reader, plEASE-)

Thanks so much for the ask, sorry again for the wait and I hope you like it!

#thalassa responds #disney villains #disney jafar #jafar x reader #Jafar's fragile ego is hanging in the fucking balance with this one #trying to egt back in the rhythm of things

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valpoupdates · 2 months

Text

MARCH CALENDAR POSTING...

So much to see, so much to do, so little time ! Lucky for you, here in the Valparaíso Region, we keep track of it just for you ! Unless stated otherwise, these activities are optional. Residents do not have to take part in these if they don't wish to ! These can be used for threads throughout the month but new threads can't be started for these activities once the month is up. Please track the valpocalendar tag to stay updated month to month ( ©️ )

Casablanca Activities

March 14th: Aire Libre will be hosting an all day Japanese movie marathon in celebration of Japan’s White Day, a reverse Valentine’s Day where women generally buy gifts and show grand romantic gestures toward their partners.

10 AM: Asako I & II — Asako, una joven que vive en Osaka, experimenta el amor a primera vista cuando se encuentra con Baku. 1 PM: Kimi no na wa — Dos adolescentes comparten una conexión profunda y mágica al descubrir que están intercambiando cuerpos. 4 PM: Shall We Dance? — El exitoso contador Shohei Sugiyama tiene una esposa amorosa y una hermosa hija, pero por alguna razón se siente insatisfecho con su vida. 7 PM: Your Eyes Tell — Rui es un ex-kickboxer que se encuentra a Akari, una chica ciega. 10 PM: Majo no Takkyūbin — Kiki, de 13 años, se muda a una ciudad costera con su gato parlante, Jiji, para pasar un año sola, de acuerdo con la tradición de su pueblo para las brujas en entrenamiento.

March 15th-17th: With City Hall's assistance, Isidora is hosting the 36th Fiesta de la Vendimia, the Grape Harvest Festival! It starts each day from 10 AM - 8 PM. There will be a variety of events to celebrate high quality grapes, delicious wine, and the community around you. Come enjoy fun games (like sack racing or grape stomping competition), beautiful sights (such as art provided by local artists and the grape maze), the llama petting zoo, and more!

March 30th: Inherited Escape is hosting a book club from 6:30 PM - 8:30 PM. The book of the month is Pride & Prejudice, a personal favorite of the owner, Oliver Alaya. You do not have to have the book finished ( or read ) in order to come and participate! Snacks and beverages will be provided. Stay updated by following Inherited Escapes, @inheritedlandscapes , on Instagram!

Quilpué Activities

March 1st: Gimnasio O2 Aire is rolling out a new exercise program, and they’re looking for 10 dedicated people to help prove the program’s effectiveness. You’ll meet Wednesday - Sunday from 6 AM - 7:30 AM for a private group session for 30 days. Included is a nutritionist consultation, new work-out clothes with the Gimnasio O2 Aire brand, and a floral yoga mat.

March 8th: The Plants and Pants Swap was created by a local Chilean influencer who wanted to emphasize reusing clothes rather than throwing them away in landfills, and they’re hosting the swap again on Sunday from 1 PM - 6 PM in El Jardín. Bring clothes or plants to trade with others! Nothing will be sold or bought; only trades.

March 19th-24th: Caos Tattoos is proud to host 2 guest artists: @skars__, a neotraditional artist from Mexico City, and @tayeh_studio, a fine line and microrealism artist from Bogotá! Please reach out to the artists through their instagram or email the Caos team at [email protected] to schedule with them. Appointments only for guest artists; no walk-ins.

March 21st: If you’re a new player still learning the ropes, or if you’ve always been interested but never knew where to get started, come to Casa Dragones’ D&D Newbie Night from 6 PM - 11 PM! There will be several tables with experienced dungeon masters ready to help you have the time of your life as a 3rd level character in uniquely fun oneshots! Space is limited so please sign up online!

March 29th: Sabor 24 Horas is hosting a karaoke night from 9 PM - 3 AM and it is BYOB. For tonight only, guessing the staff’s favorite song of the week will also give you the opportunity to request for whatever you want that’s not on the menu.

Valparaíso Activities

March 3rd: Chasing Suns and Rescue Mission have teamed up with the Valparaíso Centro Médico for a Mental Health Marathon to help raise awareness about mental health and help raise funds for local nonprofits and programs that provide mental health services to the community. If you’d like to participate and donate, please contact [email protected]. If you’d like to volunteer, please email [email protected].

March 31st: Cerro Barrón Street Market is hosting an Oddities Market from 5 PM - 11 PM. All vendors will be selling items that align with the theme of oddities. Expect to see exotic pets, cursed objects, macabre paintings, and unique knick knacks.

Viña del Mar Activities

March 7th: It is International Book Day, and what better way to spend it than at a free children’s book reading event hosted by Palacio Rioja. From 4 PM - 7 PM, there will be several story times by guest readers, arts and crafts where students can draw their favorite scenes from the books being read, as well as several important age-appropriate discussions based on the book themes ( bullying and self-acceptance ).

March 28th: Meet the drag kings of the Valparaíso Region at the Kings of Valparadise Show hosted by Club Divine! From 8 PM - 10 PM, celebrate drag, dance, and performance with a themed cocktail in hand!

#valpocalendar

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clericofshadows · 7 months

Text

the story of a weapon

Description: Late at night, Kaidan is unable to sleep, and runs into Nyx Shepard, up late and working on his beloved dagger.

Pairing: Kaidan Alenko/Nyx Shepard, Past Nyx Shepard/Steven Hackett

Rating: M

Note: Nyx Shepard is a First Contact War Shepard, so he's quite a bit older than Kaidan. I'm also considering making him a no-Reapers AU Shepard, but there's no mention of that yet.

Late at night, Kaidan found himself unable to sleep, tossing and turning, so he got up and decided to head to the little kitchen aboard the Normandy. Perhaps to brew some tea, grab a snack, or change the scenery to calm his mind.

Either way, he was sure that he was going to have a rough shift tomorrow. He yawned, entering the kitchen without paying attention to his surroundings, rummaging around for the stash of tea he stored in the upper cabinets.

“Can’t sleep either?” The rough voice of Nyx surprised him, nearly dropping the box of tea bags he grabbed from the back. His hair was pulled out of its usual ponytail, spilling over his shoulders in silver strands.

“Didn’t see you there,” Kaidan chuckled, setting the box down and getting down a mug. “Since I'm here, do you want a mug?”

He motioned to a bright pink, chipped mug that had his name surrounded by sparkles. There had to be a story about that. “Already made myself some hot chocolate. Not much of a tea drinker,” he said.

Kaidan nodded. “Fair enough. I just couldn’t sleep. Restless, I guess.” He filled the kettle with water and waited for it to heat up and placed the tea bag in his mug, adorned with hand-painted trees, a gift from his mother.

“Aren’t we all?” Nyx muttered, picking up a polishing cloth from a kit on the table. Kaidan tilted his head to the side, watching as he started to examine a dagger in the dim light of the ship. There was a routine to his movements, holding up the blade, polishing, changing the angle, polishing… A frown formed on his face, and Kaidan could see a hint of pink poking out from his lips.

“Ask your question, Kaidan,” Nyx said, trading the cloth for a whetstone. “I can hear your thoughts from a mile away.”

The kettle whistled, and he busied himself with his tea, a blend perfect for relaxing and sleep. Maybe it will work. Slightly embarrassed about being caught out, he delayed his response until he could join Nyx at the table, sitting diagonal from him to give him more workspace.

“Move closer,” Nyx said, motioning for him to sit next to him.

“You have quite the spread here. Didn’t want to disturb your meticulous workspace,” Kaidan said with a smile, sliding his mug over and moving to the seat next to Nyx. “Doesn’t look like any old dagger.”

There was simplicity to the craftsmanship, but it had roots in older Earth designs. Perhaps a remnant of the War, something Nyx carried with him as a reminder or as a trusted companion. The blade had a marbled finish, with an S etched in the blade. For Shepard, perhaps? The pommel was the most eye catching part, a smooth grip that warped into a skull. Nyx had an edge to him, purple eyes and piercings that contrasted his aged, gruff appearance. The skull suited him, a hint of personality on an otherwise basic blade.

Nyx had a lot of faces, keeping his cards close to his chest. Even while playing poker, Kaidan could best the man, who could count cards like no other and had a steely expression the entire time.

No, Kaidan seemed to only know the man in the afterglow of sex, seeing someone who had a heart kept locked away for too long, charm and humor leaking out in the glow of pleasure and happiness.

But some of that man was starting to show through now as he picked it up to present to Kaidan, pride evident on his face. He offered it to him, and Kaidan took it.

Kaidan took the dagger into his hands, turning it over carefully. His fingers traced the fine etching of the 'S' on the marbled blade.

Nyx's intense purple eyes watched Kaidan closely as he examined the dagger. "You've been in my goddamn bed," Nyx finally stated, a small grin playing on his lips. "So, you've seen a lot of me. But not many have been close enough to see his blade on neutral ground.”

Kaidan felt a flush of warmth creeping up his cheeks, but he didn't shy away from Nyx's probing gaze. "Well, I'd say it's quite an honor," he replied, his tone playful, though tinged with a sense of curiosity. "Your bed and now this? What’s next…”

“You tell me,” He chuckled. “Every weapon has a story. What is mine? You get one question, the rest you try to figure out on your own.”

A test, then. Nyx was fond of those, always finding ways to keep the crew on its toes. Kaidan held up the dagger, examining it closely. His gaze fell back on the 'S.' “I’m afraid I have to go for the low-hanging fruit on this one. True or False: The ‘S’ doesn’t stand for Shepard.”

He laughed, the sharp bark filling the room. “Should’ve known you would’ve asked that. You’re right. It’s not for Shepard.”

Kaidan looked at him expectantly.

Nyx seemed to chew on it for a moment before offering him another hint. “The ‘S’ stands for Steven.”

A starting point, not enough to go anywhere, the name common enough that it could be from anyone. A brother, a friend, a family member… a lover?

“He's someone who's climbed the ranks, close to my age… stayed in the Alliance while I took a break,” Nyx offered. “I’ve given you plenty to work with.”

“Have you? Might want to get your memory checked out,” Kaidan teased.

Nyx rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait. “Clock is ticking.”

“You never said there was a timer.”

“There is now.”

“I don’t see you pulling out your omnitool.”

“I have a brain that can count just fine.”

Kaidan shook his head at Nyx, playing around with what he had learned so far. A name, a connection to the Alliance… close to his age. A name immediately popped in his head, but it didn’t want to voice it just yet.

Could it be? Nyx had a gap in his service history, choosing to become a civilian engineer for a few years before returning to the Alliance, rising through the ranks and eventually attempting N training.

His thoughts drifted back to a mission, to the post mission report from a personal request from Admiral Steven Hackett, asking Shepard to rescue a group of scientists from biotic fanatics. "I remember one mission," Kaidan began, his tone thoughtful. "The drugged scientists we rescued. You were giving your report back to Hackett in the comm room, and you were… quite casual with him.”

Nyx's eyes lit up as he nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Good memory. You were just walking out when we started talking, yes?”

“Veterans of the First Contact War,” Kaidan continued with a nod. “Both enlisting early on… you could’ve fought together.” And done a hell of a lot more than that.

Kaidan offered the dagger back to him. “Am I wrong?”

Nyx took it and put it back in its sheath. “The dagger was part of a pair. An ‘S’ and an ‘H.’” He sighed, closing his eyes, memories playing on his face. His expression slowly stilled. “Maybe I didn’t want to say it out loud. But yes, he and I shared more than just the battlefield.”

“Why tell me this?” Kaidan took a long, slow sip of his tea.

“I know what we share is risky. Even as a Spectre, whatever I make public will still follow you.” He met his gaze once more. “Just giving you some of the cards so you can make a decision on what you want to do next.”

Kaidan narrowed his eyes. “Do you think I’m going to run away because you still carry around something that means a lot to you?”

Nyx shook his head, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "No, Kaidan. It’s… complicated."

“Then make it less complicated. Shepard, stop being so damn cryptic. I don’t want ‘cards’ or whatever you want to call this.” He gestured between them. “I want you to be honest with me.”

Nyx's expression softened, and for a moment, his guard lowered. "Kaidan…”

Kaidan wasn't going to let him off the hook. “Don’t ‘Kaidan’ me,” he retorted. “Do I need to spell it out? I wanted something out of this, despite all the risks. Hell, I know you have the damn authority to overrule the Alliance’s rules on fraternization on board this ship as long as you are in command as a Spectre. Are you trying to scare me away because you still have feelings for him?”

Nyx's calm exterior was maddening, and Kaidan's voice took on a sharper edge as he continued to press. “Tell me what's going on in that head of yours. That first night we got together, you admitted that you were seeking out comfort on the anniversary of Torfan. Where is that openness now?”

Nyx met Kaidan's intense gaze with a mixture of reluctance and vulnerability. He still made no move to defend himself or to meet Kaidan's tone.

"Nyx," Kaidan said, his voice firm. "I'm not going to back down on this.”

Nyx's eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper. He leaned in closer, the distance between them shrinking, and Kaidan saw that his violet eyes were rimmed with blue. The gravity well stirred, and Kaidan kept his face still, betraying none of his surprise that Nyx, born far before the first gen, was a biotic. "What are you going to do, Kaidan? Give me an ultimatum? You or Hackett?"

Nyx never made any indication on the battlefield that he was a biotic, and if this made him react, Kaidan struck a nerve hard.

Nyx was a damn anomaly, contrasting everything he knew about exposure,

Kaidan met his gaze, keeping his tone steady, careful to not let his own biotics react in turn. Most biotics aren’t able to sense subtle changes in the gravity well. Maybe Nyx assumes he’s one of them. "I don't want to give you an ultimatum. I want you to choose what you want. If it's him, then I deserve to know. If it's me, then we need to build something real together. But I won't stand by while you play these mind games, dropping hints about your past and then hiding behind vague answers."

Nyx was visibly angry now, eyes flashing with fury, the blue glow gone as quickly as it arrived. “You think it's that simple? Just choose one or the other?”

“Then why show me your damn dagger, if you didn’t want to get a reaction out of me? Trying to tell me you have baggage, that you aren’t worthy of what we’re starting to have?” Kaidan pressed on.

Kaidan hadn’t yet told him about BAaT, biding his time, only vaguely alluding to his past. But after seeing what had to be biotics, it was something he wanted to share. To talk with someone who wasn’t his family.

Nyx’s face twisted, from anger to frustration and then to resignation. He let out a deep sigh. “The last time I had something meaningful was with him. And it was spurred on by the backdrop of the fucking war. After the war and after I left… We tried to continue. Didn’t work out. And now that I’m back in the Alliance, I made my own path. Even tried to give him back his damn dagger, but he said they were meant to be shared. Bastard.”

“Worried that with our current mission we’re starting another battlefield relationship?” Kaidan asked softly.

“We already had some of our firsts outside of it, I know.” He ran his hand down his face, covering his mouth with his hand. “But what about after? We’ve saved a human colony, done some tasks for the Alliance... What if the stakes get higher?” They will get higher was left unsaid, but Kaidan heard it all the same.

“Then we will work through them,” Kaidan insisted. “If you want me to wait until after this mission, I can and I will.”

“No, I don’t want that,” Nyx said, vulnerable. He started to put his kit back together, his hands shaking ever so slightly, putting the dagger on his belt. “Shit, Kaidan. I care about you too much to do that to you. I know what we have is still new, and to be completely honest, I’ve never been good at slowing down.”

“No shit,” Kaidan chuckled. “I’ve seen you out in the field.”

The tension started to lift, and Nyx gave him a smile. “Haven’t seen anyone complain yet. Can’t keep up?”

“You know damn well I can keep up with you.”

Nyx leaned in closer. “I suppose you have proven that to me. Join me for a moment in my quarters. We can spin it as if you need some quiet rest from a migraine, hmm?”

The whiplash of the request nearly startled him. “And what exactly are we going to do in your quarters,” he asked flatly, not yet letting him off the hook.

Nyx… Kaidan found himself falling for him far quicker than he expected. If he was willing to entertain the idea of telling him about BAaT, there had to be something there.

But with what he learned now? It changed things, some.

He was willing to hear him out. Perhaps this whole charade was Nyx’s way of trying to reveal some parts of his past. Taking the decision out of his hands by asking Kaidan to figure it out.

“Talk about this–” he motioned between them. “Maybe more.”

Kaidan nodded, picking up his forgotten mug and dropping it in the sink. “Lead the way.”

Nyx gathered his things, put his mug away, and let him inside. No one was still around at this hour, thankfully, to see their display, both of them forgetting themselves for a moment.

Nyx sat down on the bed. Kaidan joined him, their thighs touching.

“Not that I’m trying to give you a hard time…” Kaidan started, and Nyx let out another laugh.

“Well deserved, at this point, I’m sure,” Nyx replied. “Steven and I… I don’t know if it would have lasted outside of the war. It sure as hell didn’t help that we had too much distance after I left to deal with my own shit.” His fingers twitched, as if reaching for something. A cigarette, maybe. “Been a long time since I let someone in, knowing I always wondered what could've been. Two old soldiers, forever shaped by a war that should have never happened.”

Kaidan stayed silent, letting him speak. Nyx glanced over at Kaidan, and he offered him a smile in response. Nyx continued, “A part of me was scared to talk about it. Never done it before.”

“Is that why you wanted me to figure it out on my own?” Kaidan asked, voicing his earlier thoughts. “So you didn’t have to tell me yourself?”

Nyx winced. “I’m sorry.”

Kaidan nudged him with his shoulder. “No, you’re not. Sure, I’m a little annoyed at you, but I could tell that you were jumping into something new. Never expected a guy like you to be so hesitant.”

Nyx looked like he wanted to say something, but Kaidan stopped him with a peck on the lips. “Don’t worry, I like that about you,” he said, pulling back.

Nyx slowly smiled, shaking his head. “Don’t want to ruin this, and I feel like I started to.”

Kaidan shrugged. “We all have conflicts, and we’re talking about it. Could be worse.”

“No shit,” Nyx snorted. “I should not be new to all this shit.”

Kaidan shoved him, pushing him down to where Nyx was now lying on the bed. “I didn’t complain when you taught me how to best configure a drone.”

“That’s different.” He made no move to get up.

“How so?” Kaidan leaned back. “Just filling gaps in our knowledge, that’s all.”

Nyx rolled his eyes and sat back up. “Whatever, Alenko.” Kaidan rested his head on his shoulder.

“You know, you can tell me about him,” he offered as an olive branch. “If you need someone to share the memories with, if it makes it easier.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Nyx wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in close. He ran his fingers through Kaidan's hair. Kaidan closed his eyes, leaning into his touch.

A quiet moment between them, neither one moving to change it.

Until Kaidan figured he should reveal a secret of his own. “My biotics… make it difficult sometimes to find someone. Ever since my training, I’ve always felt to stay in control all the time. I’ve had people shy away when I glow blue.” He chuckled, only to release the tension, but he hated that he felt like he had to be so casual about it. “And then you came along, and accepted all of me. Making me feel… human.”

“I’m not blind,” Nyx said. “I know you’re a powerful biotic. You try to hide it, but I know you’re holding back. You felt a change in the gravity well earlier and was kind enough to not point it out.”

Kaidan raised up to get a better look at him. His face was neutral, betraying nothing. Kaidan nodded for him to continue.

“So when you say you feel like you need to stay in control, for me it's tenfold. The Alliance keeps it under wraps, hell, I shouldn’t even be telling you,” Nyx continued, staring at the door. “Got exposed to a shitton of eezo in an explosion.” A far off look appeared in his eye. “I was the only survivor, barely clinging to life. It’s where I got some of these scars.” He pushed up his sleeves, arms marked by silvery scars. “Among other things,” he sighed. “It wasn’t until years later that I manifested, not long after reenlisting. Sworn to secrecy with a damn asari-designed implant and amp in my head.”

Kaidan wasn’t sure what to comment on first. “Asari designed?” he asked, testing the waters.

Nyx seemed grateful for the simple question, giving him a small smile and rubbing the back of his neck. “Hackett asked for a favor from a friend. A matriarch who specializes in cybernetics and biotics. They did more than just give me an implant, made a whole new interface to make it easier for me to manage out in the field.”

He and Hackett not only had a close past, but he also protected him from the obvious blowback that an older gen biotic would create, keeping him free from human interventions. How can Kaidan really compete with that?

He’s going to try.

Kaidan never let go of him while he told his story. He rested his head back on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”

“This won’t change anything out on the field,” Nyx said. “I’m still just an engineer.”

“You aren’t ‘just’ anything,” Kaidan scoffed. “But I figured. Not meant to be used unless you leave no witnesses?”

Nyx grinned, his gaze shifting to meet Kaidan's. “Something like that. Maybe one day, I can show you what I can do.”

“I may hold you to that.” Kaidan's playful grin mirrored Nyx's.

“I’m sure you will.”

“You know, there’s a part of my own file that’s classified. I’m sure you saw it,” Kaidan started to say.

“Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything,” Nyx said. “I did see that. Of course, I was intrigued, but anything can be classified. Not everything is as juicy as mine.”

“I’m not telling you out of obligation. Feels like this is a good time.”

Nyx nodded, motioning for him to continue. Kaidan took a deep breath and told him about BAaT, about Brain Camp. He told Nyx about BAaT, about Brain Camp, who set it up, and the brutal training that young biotics endured there. He described his own eezo exposure, how he ended up there, and the instructor, Vyrnnus, who held a personal grudge against him.

“I was a little shit back then.” Kaidan admitted with a rueful smile. “Vyrnnus introduced himself by saying, ‘I was at the helm of the dreadnought that killed your father.’ I replied back saying my father wasn’t involved in the war. He had it out for me after that,” Kaidan said, taking a breath.

“Hiring a First Contact War veteran to teach young children? Fucking idiots,” he cursed, shaking his head. “I’m no fan of turians, but I’m not about to gloat about what I did during the war.”

Nyx didn’t judge when he talked about Rahna, about keeping an eye on her and his fellow biotics, his feelings for her and what he wanted them to turn into.

Kaidan didn’t shy away from any details, the ruthlessness of the turian mercs teaching him how to turn himself into a weapon, how to control himself and to tear apart others with the dark energy that rested inside of him.

"You either came out a superman or a wreck. A lot of kids snapped. A few died. Didn’t help that we all were L2s. Spiking high with all the side effects you can think of.”

Nyx nodded. “Chakwas told me about your implant. Just the basics,” he reassured, but Kaidan had made it clear to Chakwas that she could divulge that information, important for his superiors officers to know if something were to go wrong. “Never got a refit?”

“Too many risks. At minimum, I would lose my extra power. At worst, I’ll lose everything.” Kaidan closed his eyes briefly. “Anyway, it all came to a head one day. We had to build something with our biotics and not drop any pieces. The catch was that some of us didn’t receive our rations, and we were expected to do this for hours. And we did.

“Rahna nearly dropped a piece, and I was able to catch it just in time. But Vyrnnus noticed it, praising me and taunting us with a glass of water.”

“He wanted you to reach out and grab it, didn’t he?” Nyx said, catching on. “But with your biotics.”

Kaidan nodded. “I warned her, but it was too late. She reached out for it with her hand, and he broke her arm with his biotics.”

“And you snapped,” Nyx said.

“I stood up, not really knowing what I was going to do. Vyrnnus lost it. Beat the crap out of me, kept shouting that they should’ve bombed us back to the stone age. And that’s when the knife came up.” Kaidan traced the scar that bisected his lip. “Military issue talon, right in my face. I cut loose, gave him a full biotic kick right in the teeth. About as strong as I can manage now.”

Kaidan rose up slightly, and Nyx cupped his face, traced the scar on Kaidan's lip with a gentle touch of his thumb. “Sounds like the bastard deserved it. Good.”

Kaidan closed his eyes, his voice heavy with regret. “Was it? I killed him, snapped his neck. They probably could’ve saved him if they got him to an infirmary quick enough. But they didn’t. Caused a stir when they shipped him home and BAaT training was shut down. Conatix folded a couple of years later. It’s funny,” he sighed. “I’m not sure which of us got the worst of what happened.”

“From where I stand, Vyrnnus got what was coming to him,” Nyx said, his voice carefully neutral.

“I’m not upset he’s dead,” Kaidan emphasized, appreciating his restraint but wanting to make his own feelings clear. “Just sorry I killed him. I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“How old were you?” Nyx asked.

“Seventeen,” he replied. “I dropped out of sight for a bit. They let me go. I guess they wanted it to blow over as much as I did. I came back on my own terms because I wanted to serve. So, yeah. I hated that turian, but he wasn’t a turian to me,” Kaidan finished. “Just another asshole thinking he had the right to control and target us. Didn’t matter who or what he was. All the same in the end.”

Nyx leaned back on the bed, and Kaidan joined him, allowing himself to cuddle up next to him. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and Nyx turned to face him, a mischievous grin slowly forming on his lips.

Kaidan's eyebrows furrowed as he saw that grin. "Oh no."

"And here I thought you were damaged goods," Nyx teased, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Kaidan chuckled, the tension of their earlier conversation melting away. He pointedly kissed the crossed scar on Nyx's temple, causing Nyx to roll his eyes but to also blush slightly at the unexpected affection. "I've got a few scratches and dents," Kaidan admitted, "but don't we all? I hope they give me character."

“They give you more than that. Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

Nyx shrugged, kissing his forehead. “I trust you.”

And that’s all that Kaidan needed to hear. He surged forward and claimed his mouth in a passionate kiss, running his tongue over his mouth and letting out a pleased sound when he let him in.

Tonight's conversation had left Kaidan with many thoughts and questions, but one thing was clear: Nyx had charmed his way into his heart with his reserved yet cocky attitude, which melted away the moment they were alone.

Before things could escalate further, they reluctantly broke apart. Nyx's face was flushed, his lips swollen from their heated kiss. "Still too risky," he admitted, his desire evident in his eyes. "But damn, I want you."

Kaidan smiled, rolling off of him and swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed. “Maybe we can get some time off the ship for a bit.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Nyx chuckled, stretching out on the bed, making no move to hide the bulge that was forming in his fatigues. “It’s been nice having you to myself, but one day, I want to be able to be open with you.”

“Me too,” Kaidan said, his mind helpfully supplying that maybe his connection with Hackett could help along with his Spectre status. He tried to keep his face still, but Nyx narrowed his eyes, a smirk forming on his face.

“What are you thinking about over there, Lieutenant?” Oh, he wants to play it that way?

Kaidan took a moment and decided to go along with it. He straightened his posture, arms crossed against his chest. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" he requested playfully.

“Granted,” he chuckled. “We are playing around with that later.”

“Could you get Hackett to sign off on it along with your Spectre authorization?” He asked point blank, choosing not to comment on his previous statement just yet. He wasn't opposed to the idea... depending on how Nyx wants to spin it.

Nyx frowned. “He’s not the only higher up we’d have to worry about, but yes, I’ve thought about it. I don’t want anything to blow back on you.”

This again, trying to protect him from himself.

“Not worried about your own career?”

“Not while I’m a Spectre,” Nyx parroted back but relented quickly with a sigh. “I’ll test the waters with him at the bare minimum and see what he says. Bastard might even bring Anderson in to see what he thinks as well.”

Kaidan moved back to sit on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want you to think I'm trying to rush you into anything.”

Nyx joined him, sitting up and resting his chin on Kaidan's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said with a small smile. "You are getting my ass into gear about something I should've already inquired about. We made the decision to continue even after we learned we'd be serving together. Again, I–”

Kaidan was quick to interject. “If you are going to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Fair enough. Still, it’s obvious I haven’t… talked about it much with anyone. I’d like to tell you some stories. Things you won’t see in vids or reports or interviews. The real version of the War.”

“And maybe I can share some things I learned at BAaT that are far better than the standardized stuff you may have learned.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Try to get some sleep, Kaidan. Might be a long day.” Nyx kissed him on the cheek before lying back in the bed.

“You too, Nyx.” Kaidan reached for his hand to give a quick squeeze before exiting his quarters.

No one was around to ask about his business.

Kaidan let out a breath. Nyx… was so damn infuriating sometimes. And now, Kaidan feels like he’s met yet another version of him. A man left behind by the war, still pining over a lost love.

A part of him is angry at Nyx for telling him the way he did, but another part of him is comparing the whole situation to Rahna and his own past.

Maybe once he gets some sleep he’ll have a clearer head, but Kaidan wasn't sure if he'd ever fully understand all the different faces of the man who had come into his life.

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #male shepard #nyx shepard #mshenko #cleric's writing #mass effect fanfiction #nyx is so maddening for me to write #but i'll get in his head eventually

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cowshampoo · 2 months

Text

I don't know which of my mutuals are comfortable with it but I'm making a post for y'all right now to express my appreciation in a silly way and if you don't like it tell me how I can express it for you otherwise. Let me learn yalls love languages and let me love you.

Anyways here goes. (this got way too long so I'm putting it under the cut)

Mutuals, I am kissing you on the mouth (silly). I'm in love with you. We are going to the grocery/convenience store and buying candy and snacks and stuff. I'm making you dinner. I'm playing with your hair and giving you hugs. We are cuddling under a heated weighted blanket. We are baking cookies. You have eggs and sugar and fuzz in your hair and I pick it out like monkeys do with bugs. I'm giving you a blanket or my hoodie when you're cold. We're both too tired to cook so I'll trim the chicken and chop the veggies and you do the seasoning and the oven. We're trading life stories and getting high. We play with our OCs like dolls and watch cartoons or shitty TV. We sing along to old rock songs and sit in silence. We gush over our cute pets and plants you tell me which fictional character you want to screw the most. We make our own constellations with a bag of old glow-in-the-dark stars we found in the basement. We make stories about those constellations. We're dancing silly whiteboy bad style. We're battling with nerf guns and lightsabers. We put on noise cancelling headphones when the noisy ass cars are dragging down the street. We find the neighbor's outdoor cat (he escaped again) and pet him and take pictures. We're getting drunk and riding the bus home. Hopefully we don't get lost because we can't afford an uber. We go volunteering, maybe at the shelter, and we fantasize about adopting the animals that cling to us the most, or maybe the ones that are scared and hiding from us because we want them to not be scared anymore.

You're a mother struggling to get her stroller out the bus door so I pick up the other end to help you out. You thank me with a smile and I get back on the bus because this isn't my stop but I love you and your kid and your kid's otter stuffie. You're strangers to me.

We get heart-shaped swag glasses from the condom manufacturer's tent at the pride parade festival thing. We trade lipsticks and I do your eyebrows.

We go to an empty movie theatre and talk and dance and get separate popcorn because you always add too much butter.

I give you the yellow skittles because they're your favorite and my least favorite.

We go to a haunted house and you squeeze my hand when you get to scared and I make a joke to make it a little less scary.

I go through old jewelry boxes during spring cleaning and find a bracelet I know you would love. Maybe you don't wear it but you keep it anyways because you know I love you.

There's a hairdye stain on the shower curtain from when we got a little too wild. It won't come out in the wash and I'm glad.

I sew patches on your jacket and you buy me lunch.

You help me pack up my things. There's not enough room in my new apartment for all my stuffed animals. I give you my giant Squirtle because it's your favorite and I know you'll take good care of him.

You break your favorite coffee mug. I don't have real gold but I glue it back together and paint the seams with glitter kintsugi style. It won't hold water anymore so it sits on your desk holding your pens.

We go to the thrift store - I try on a silly hat and learn the hard way that the ribbon on it is held in place by sharp pins. It's cold out and we don't have gloves so I hold your hands and try to warm them up with my own. The bus is late and it's raining and cold so we wait in the 7/11 and hope the bus takes its time.

You're clawing your way out of a rough patch but your room is a disaster so I help you clean it. You're embarrassed by the sheer amount of instant food wrappers and dirty dishes on the floor but I don't mind.

You call me drunk because your date ditched you and you don't feel safe heading home alone. I pick you up with icecream and a movie and we watch it in our pajamas. You don't want to wash the makeup off your face so I bribe you with a fancy face scrub and we treat ourselves well for the night.

We play old videogames we've had for years that are only fun together. We go out stargazing. You're nervous about a date and I help you pick out an outfit and hype you up for it. If your partner doesn't treat you well I threaten to kick their ass even though we both know I'd lose in a fight. I might just do it anyways.

We go to the skatepark and I try to learn to skateboard. It's not going well. We mostly sit at the top of the ramp and talk. I tell you about a game you don't really like but I do and you tell me about a band I don't like but you do and we listen to each other. We disagree on things and we have our own opinions and we're people but we love each other and we talk nice and hanging out is fun.

I text you after months of not talking and we get coffee together. We're still friends and we're still in love.

I tell you that I'm in love with you and you know I mean it. I love you as a sibling, a friend, a stranger, a mentor. I love you and I want you to know that. I love you and I want to do all these things with you. I love you and I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy. I love you and I'll love you tomorrow and I'll love you when we're strangers again.

I hope this makes sense. I'm rambling now. I'm trying to remind myself that I'm in love with things.

Remember that you love things, too. I think it helps.

#to summarize:#we are silly and we are humans and we are in love and we do things #we hang out and help each other and be happy #and that is enough #i feel like i should tag this as something but i don't know what

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flanklurker · 2 years

Note

Hi hi!! I was wondering if I could request a small scenario in which Yoru and the (preferably Japanese if it’s not too much trouble) reader go to haru matsuri (spring festival) together? He’s always been my favorite; even if I can’t use his abilities to save my life lol—

This is cute as hell, thank you for a request! I didn’t get thrown out of weeb school to half-ass this—festivals just hit different. This scenario in particular is based on the Kachiya Festival held in early May, which celebrates a 1000-year-old victory and a samurai procession through the streets of Tokyo. I thought it might be a nice fit, since Yoru (and reader!) are from Tokyo originally. You can find out more here https://tokyocheapo.com/events/kachiya-festival-samurai-procession/ if you’re interested!

Yoru x Reader: Haru Matsuri

Yoru is at your door a good 20 minutes before you’d arranged. You knew he would be. As much as he grumbled about being ‘dragged along’ to ‘dumb’ events like this, he always seemed to be the first one to remind you if you’ve forgotten an upcoming festival or outing.

All the time you’ve known him, it was the same old story. His parents would hurry him over to your family’s place on the Arakawa river, and nudge him gently into the hallway as he pouted and avoided eye contact. Then would be the slow process of coaxing him out of his shell with the cool figures and acrylics you’d managed to source, starting to barter and trade them and relaxing back into the rambunctious friendship you shared while your parents weren’t watching before the festival began.

Now, you’ve both lost that awkwardness, but it sticks with you as a special part of childhood and all the time you’ve spent together since.

“Hey, you.”

“Ryo.”

Without another word, Yoru closes the distance between you and wraps you up in a massive hug. You sigh and pull into his touch, savouring the feeling of his chest pressed against yours. Every time he came back, it always took you back how much you missed the man.

You got that your jobs were bloody dangerous. It was an important fight, world-ending kind of important, which checked out for the Yoru you knew. Still. It meant missions that took you away from each other, sometimes for weeks or months at a time. Sure, you were lucky to both be in the protocol, but your different skillsets meant often you were deployed to different continents to scout and fight.

That being said, you never made a point of missing your old tradition of a festival in May.

“C’mon,” you say with a grin, letting him take his shoes off before tugging him inside. “Gotta get dressed for it.”

He gives you a quiet “ugh, alright boss” but is more than obliging enough as you head upstairs to get changed. As always, Yoru’s overprepared. Not just his own yukata and sundry, but an extra throw for you, snacks and supplies for on the road.

Yoru doesn’t say anything, but he does that cute little shimmy you’ve learned to interpret as ‘please help me do up my obi’. You chuckle and grab the fabric as he sits back, smugly, enjoying the attention as you tighten the sash and tie a proper knot. Once he’s satisfied with the result, he mutters ‘turn around, lemme.”

Another fact that your boyfriend would be loath to admit: really fucking good at tying obi. His desire to be cool and competitive instinct to be good at shit meant that from early on, he made a point of pride to find more and more elaborate and technical designs every year. The one time he saw a clip-on bow in your drawer, he nearly threw it out the window.

“Hold still,” he mutters, working away behind you and whistling through his teeth in concentration. You just stay still and enjoy the closeness. Once he’s done, he wordlessly hands you a hand mirror so you can admire his handiwork. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he fidgets his comb a little indicates that he’s watching your response intently.

You appraise the knot, making sure you get a good look at the details, and eventually let out a whistle of admiration.

“You’ve outdone yourself yet again, Ryo. Looks cool as hell.”

You swear you see him pump the air out of the corner of your eye.

After final outfit checks, which you’re pretty sure Yoru suggested so he could look at you shamelessly a little longer, you head out for a short walk to the base of the Kameidokatori shrine to see off the procession.

As a kid, this was one of his favourite bits. Seeing all those men dressed up in full samurai gear, chests heaving with the procession’s call and responses and sweat dripping down their faces by the time they returned in the full May sun always got Yoru super pumped for the rest of the day. He’d run around, waving anything long he could get his hands on and challenging you to square up if you had any honour.

As a kid, you used to dryly point out that the festival celebrated a winning arrow, not a sword, and he should really have paid attention when you learned that in class. You still squared up though.

It was always fun watching a grin spread across Yoru’s face as the first chants began. As much as he tried to keep his cool, getting back to his hometown meant he could finally relax a little and just enjoy the old smells and sounds and sights of home. You, for the most part, enjoyed watching him perk up like this.

As the procession’s shouts grow distant, you grab his hand.

“C’mon you great warrior you, let’s scout the grounds for a good feed.”

You stroll for a few minutes, making use of the few vendors already set up to grab a generous helping of pork and mushroom buns (take your pick) and a cool drink, settling down by the river to wait for the procession to return and the festivities to kick off in earnest.

Relaxing into it, you lean against your boyfriend and feel him hum, wrapping an arm around you while you watch the water and talk about who had the coolest float in middle school (it was you, hands down). You chat away about missions and near misses, then the seasonal deals at the 7-eleven on the corner and which teachers you saw dressed up at the parade.

God it’s nice to just have a chance to throw stones in the river and chat. You don’t really get the time to take things easy and do cute couple-y stuff while you’re at the protocol, and while you make it work for the most part, these moments are always the most special.

The time passes all too quickly before you hear the shouts of the procession drawing closer again. At this point, the sun’s gotten a little lower and you have to shield your eyes a bit as you hurry back to the shrine. At this point, both of you get to work cheering and urging on the procession, yelling at the top of your lungs as old teachers, coaches and even some former peers at this point sweat it out on the final stretch to the shrine.

As you watch their triumphant faces, you can’t help but think of your own struggle—the protocol’s—for victory in this spat for radianite that never seems to end. All it took 1000 years ago was coming to the shrine and presenting a bow and arrow in the hope that your prayers were answered. Now, the mirrors have their own shrine, their own festival. Probably their own loved ones

Yoru can see you’ve gone a little pensive, and moves in to wrap an arm around your waste in reassurance. “You too, huh,” he murmurs quietly.

You don’t have too much tine to be left to your thoughts, because as the procession dies down the samurai filter out into the crowd. Many of them find novelty in seeing you both here—the cute, bickering childhood friends turned lovers that never really discuss their jobs, but always wind up back home for the festivities. You laugh and reminisce, snapping pictures with them in costume and trying your best to stop your boyfriend from ‘sparring them for real’.

Eventually you’re left to your own devices, and finally get a chance to explore the festival stalls as the sun starts to dip below the river.

The smell of frying wafts through as you start to stroll between the stalls. Yoru’s given up trying to hurry you—he knows this is a bit of a highlight for you.

You coo over the little handicrafts that the junior classes have made specially, adopting some questionable pet rocks and polymer charms for a dirt-cheap price. You give the cool mask one to Yoru.

“Reminds me of you, Ryo. It’ll give you drip, trust.”

He sighs and takes it, but you notice him fiddling with the strap to attach it to his phone when he thinks you aren’t watching.

When it comes to the fish-catching stall, you and Yoru look at each other. There are many things you’ve learned to compromise on, but fish stall is the one place where all bets are off. You like fish. He likes winning.

“Rules are simple, loser,” Yoru intones as he strides over to take his place with a paper paddle at the side of the ‘fishpond’.

“One minute. No direct paddle contact. Most fish win…”

“-…loser buys the taiyaki,” he finishes. The kind older woman who runs the stall gives a wry chuckle as the two of you take your places on either side of the plastic tub. She knows you well. The pair of you may well have been the reason they stopped putting real goldfish in back in high school. Apparently it was getting too expensive.

“I believe the handsome man on the left was the victor last time,” she says. You block out Yoru’s smirk, eyes narrowed on the board. “I want a good, clean game this time you two. Need I remind you what happened a couple of years ago.”

As the timer starts, your eyes dart to the nearest cluster. You’ve learned that the paper stays robust early on, and start to scoop up as many little orange fish as possible. You can hear Yoru swearing from the other side of the pond, but you block it out and redouble your efforts to skirt all the fish, reading the currents and snatching easy picks from right under his grasp.

About eight seconds from the end, Yoru’s paddle breaks and he yells, standing up from the table and throwing his head in his hands as he watches you swipe a clean victory. You admire your pile of fish as Yoru swears once more, then immediately apologises to the mothers watching him aghast from the front of the line.

“Looks like your partner had the edge this time, young man. I believe that brings them one point ahead,” the lady smiles, taking your coins and packaging up the fish.

Yoru just sighs and looks away. “I let ‘em win cause I felt sorry for them is all,” he pouts.

You poke his cheek. “C’mon, Ryo. Taiyaki.”

He grabs your hand and smooshes it to his face, turning to face you. “You’re lucky you’re cute, little goldfish fiend.” You just chuckle and bring your other hand up, standing on your tippie-toes to give him a kiss on the forehead.

With a strangled yelp and a blush that’s hard to hide, he turns away and starts off towards the taiyaki stall. “Stay here then, or whatever.”

You settle down on a nearby bench, enjoying the glow of the lanterns, the bustle of the crowds and the sizeable back of little orange goldfish figures to add to your collection back at the protocol. You set down your bag and hum away, admiring all the pretty yukatas and watching the kids scrap around and chuckle.

Eventually, your beloved comes back with an armful of taiyaki and a few other snacks he picked up along the way. He dumps them down and hands you one of the piping hot fish, shoving it towards you as a conciliatory (?) gesture. “Got you red bean cause it was the cheapest.” (it’s your favourite, and you’re pretty sure they’re all the same price)

“Mfph, thanks Ryo! Nothing sweetens the deal like a cute guy handing it to me either~”

That one gets a laugh from him as he sits down, digging into a custard one and then just as quickly hissing and drawing back.

“Too hot?”

He just nods forlornly and looks at you with big eyes.

“Give it a second yeah? Let’s just enjoy the lights.” You shift over to bump shoulders and he once again leans into the touch, looking up at the stars starting to filter out one by one.

“Festivals aren’t so bad,” he says eventually.

“You say that every year my love. It’s hard to keep saying I told you so.”

“They’re good when they’re with you,” he continues.

Damn, now he’s got you blushing. You can’t keep the shy smile from creeping across your face as you look at him, warm lights flashing to intermittently illuminate his high cheekbones and furrowed eyebrows.

“Speakin of good, here,” he says, thrusting a small package your way.

“Oh? What’s this? Ryo, you didn’t have to-“

“It’s just something small,” he says, towing the dirt. “Reminded me of you.”

You untie the cord and unfurl the cloth bag to reveal a very elegant clip with a little glass-blown goldfish. There’s a gold gilding that swirls around it, mimicking the flow of water.

“It’s hardly a victory crown, but it seemed like it was appropriate for one of the best fishers in the northern hemisphere.”

“Ryo, this is gorgeous, you didn’t have to-“

“I just wanted to see you wear it,” he pouts. “Thought it would suit you.”

You slide it out of the back and admire it. The light dances through the goldfish, making it look more like fire than a simple marine creature.

“Would you help me with it then, my love?”

Wordlessly, he takes the clip as you turn around obligingly and fastens it into your hair. “Knew it,” he whispers in your ear.

Before you can respond, a crackle sets the festival goers oo-ing and ahh-ing as the first round of fireworks kicks up. You yelp with surprise, and then giggle as the bright colours fill your vision.

Yoru wraps his arms around your torso from behind, and rests his head on your shoulder as he looks up at the sky with you. You stand there in silence, just admiring the display in the night sky and the bustle of the festival around you. The music swells with the crescendo and the sky gets brighter and brighter, before the last sparks fall and fizzle into the night air.

As the light falls off you, you turn around to face him and bring him in for a long, passionate kiss. His arms wrap around you and hold you close as you savour the moment. Eventually you draw back, and share a quiet smile with him.

Yeah, maybe those festivals aren’t so bad.

#valorant #valorant yoru #yoru #yoru x reader #valorant x reader #wowowow this got very long aaa #it was a lot of fun to write so thank you for such a cute fluffy prompt anon!!#lozcanons

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viridescent-lance · 1 year

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for the honor of the planning committee (ethereal ball open)

[ Make a Request ] - to your overseers to provide you with your favorite snacks and directions to the nearest bathroom put into place some of the careful plans that Garreg Mach employees spent weeks preparing!

Forsyth paces back and forth, shaking his head. The unique invitations! The handmade decorations! The trade routes they'd secured to ensure the delivery of various goods on time, and the layouts they'd painstakingly optimized for both ballside fun and ease of teardown...all for naught, right now.

He had taken great pride in his role on the planning committee, and these "elementals" had not merely wrought havoc and shrank the entire monastery population, but hijacked the Ethereal Ball itself! They hadn't even considered consulting the committee, and Forsyth's patron, the "Water" elemental, just isn't listening.

"At the very least, could we utilize the photography booth? We spent a fair amount of time, energy, and resources to have it present!" Forsyth did not expect to spend his night (the first of what may be an extended stay in these beings' dollhouse) arguing with a being composed of aquatic energy, but here he stands, speaking up into the sky to a voice he knows is listening. "You could shrink it and integrate it quite nicely near the dressing room in the main hall; there is a fairly unused room there that could be perfect!"

"I do not understand...we did everything we could for these mortals to have the time of their lives. We even took the pressure off you! The rodents care for the chores, while you can have fun! There is no need to worry, little one. Would you like some more sweets?"

A cookie manifests into Forsyth's hand, yet again. Brown sugar and chocolate chip, a favorite of his. He bites into it, chewing with frustration as he fixes the sky with a glare that says he will not be bribed, but he also will not waste food.

"It feels as if you are not understanding what I mean, with all due respect." Forsyth swipes crumbs from his lip; he may seem ridiculous, but at the very least Water has been listening to his grievances, even if they don't seem to quite recognize him as anything other than a particularly intelligent pet. He's made progress. Probably. "I'm not saying you did a poor job, far from it, but it is downright rude to take possession of this night without a care for those who planned it!"

"Hmmm...well, if you say it thus. Perhaps I can consult with my siblings about incorporating this 'photographic' device you so desire, if you need it so much."

Oh? A glimmer of understanding, perhaps? Forsyth nods. He is used to having to negotiate; a deft combination of politeness and directness is vital in such situations.

Clive is usually the one who takes the lead, as Forsyth has been told that while he means well, his vigor can come across poorly in ways he did not intend. He has improved greatly in the last few years, but he knows it is a place he has much to grow in. But tonight, he is seeing those efforts come to fruition! ...maybe.

"Oh! It would be unfair not to ask your companions their opinions. I want only the best for you!" Water peers back once again, their glowing eyes fixated on a spot behind Forsyth. ...has someone else been privy to this exchange? Forsyth's bravado falters; has he truly handled this to the best of his ability? There were word choices and shortness of temper on his behalf that could have easily sabotaged this exchange, now that he thinks of it. "Come now, little one. What would you have us do to improve this experience?"

Another cookie, frosted this time, finds its way into Forsyth's grasp. Water seems to have noticed his distress. He scarfs it down quickly, shaking his head to let it be known that he does not condone their actions.

#[ ic ]#[ thread ]#[ thread: for the honor of the planning committee ]#[ ask meme ]#toa open #toaball2023 #//open to anyone!#//dm me about ideas maybe? :)

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shimii26 · 2 years

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Phoenix: The Recycler Addison

My name is Phoenix, I’m an eco-friendly Addison who specializes in utilizing the materials around me to create new products that Darkners will use to their fullest potential and reduce the space wasted by the data trash other Addisons seem to be so careless with.

Although my goal is to use my talents for the greater good of this Cyber City, I have to admit that sometimes my drive to succeed can lead me to be a little more than just proud of my work. Take for example, my lovely but kitschy work studio and gallery! I call it: Phoenix’s Recycled Fashion And Furniture! I just absolutely adore the fact that every piece of furniture and jewelry piece I sell was made by my own two hands! And it didn’t cost me a dime, I’d like to see any other Addison top with such a cheap price tag on their own shops. In any case, the one product I take the most absolute pride in, are my homemade sandwiches, perfect for a quick lunch, or a much filling snack when you need some quick energy during a busy shift! I can make them any flavor you’d like, you want cucumber and figs? You’ve got it. Gruyere and smoked ham? Gotcha. Cookies and ice cream? Not exactly a traditional sandwich, but I don’t judge, yes I can do that. But by far, my most appraised and demanded food product has to be my homemade egg salad sandwich, seasoned with the finest pixel salt, pepper, and paprika, creamy RAMmayo, and tangy mustardata. What’s the recipe? HA! Funny of you to ask, the recipe is not for sale. I don’t ever dare divulge my biggest trade secret!... Well, I guess I did divulge it once to… someone not that important to others anymore. To me, he was the most important creature, so important to my career choice, and vital to my source of satisfaction in my work. You see, business hasn’t been going that well since I had been caught rummaging through the upper class trash bins for materials, and my mental health hasn’t been very stable. But their reappearance into my life has helped me begin to recover from my own self doubts, and allowed me to re-experience the euphoric feeling just watching someone benefiting from my efforts…

You want to know who that someone is?... Well… You may have heard about the rumor of the one and only Addison in Cyber City history to live on the streets... Yes, he was the one who helped inspire me to show this world what I can do, my ideas, and my creativity… How did I come to meet him?... You see, he and I were nothing more than basic acquaintances for most of our time together, until we managed to reunite many years later, united by the one thing we shared commonality with… Lemme recall my history with him for you.

The story of my relationship with the peculiar Addison begins during my second year of Addison Career Training. Every Addison is required to go through a general line of college-like courses to help them choose a specialty that will help them succeed in life, and maintain a level of happiness required to pass off a friendly face to customers alike. It’s actually quite common for Addisons to experience depression, which is why it’s critical one chooses a specialty that they don’t mind performing for the remainder of their lives, it’s extremely difficult to change your profession as an Addison as it requires some serious data rewriting and paperwork. You only have 3 years to decide your profession, and at the time, I was already more than halfway through my studies, unsure of what I want to pursue. It almost dragged me down to a dark state of depression. I was quite lost as to where I wanted to go in life.

Nevertheless, the two of us were in a general business class together, learning how to approach customers, present advertisements, and strike bargains in order to keep our quotas up to snuff. The reason why we even sat next to each other in the first place was a mere fluke, as it was the last seat in the classroom, and he was the last Addison to enter the room. He was rather an unusual fellow, in all my life I have never seen an albino Addison, it was a very rare pigment to be programmed with, or lack thereof, and yet, there he sat like he wasn’t someone particularly special. He was correct to think that way though, despite his beautiful and bright appearance, he was more or less just another little cog in the everlasting chain of Addison economics. But our people knew better than that; when an albino Addison manifests into reality, it tends to spell trouble for those who get close to them. But I don’t believe in such nonsense, this was merely a rumor spread by more common colored Addisons, typically one would hear this kind of talk from primary colored individuals. Even with that expectation of greatness, succession, and mischieviousness going for him, he was actually quite closeted, almost like a silent pale phantom who lurked in the dark corner of the room. He barely spoke a word, never seeked out any kind of friendship with anyone outside of class, never partnered up in projects, never raised his hand to answer questions. In fact, he seemed to have already given up on his studies, similar to me I guess. I'd be surprised if he managed to write down one page of notes from a 60 slide powerpoint presentation. Every lesson he’d have this depressed far away look in his eyes, dark circles lining his pupils, staring at his notebook, his pencil halfway gripped in his hand. Always looked as though he was going to fall asleep in the middle of the lesson. He never knew this, but I secretly referred to him as “Sad Eyes''. If “routine” was an Addison, this guy would definitely be it. I soon began to pick up on his quirks, and his preferences. Almost every 10 minutes on the dot, he would yawn quietly to himself or huff in exhaustion. After some time I found this quite amusing even though he was clearly not in a good mood.

But the most intriguing behavior I’ve noticed from him is his snack preferences. This Addison was an avid fan of protein and savory flavors, quite an unusual preference in taste as most Addisons were fans of sweet treats and pastries. We weren’t allowed to have snacks during lessons as our professor deemed it a distraction, but once the bell rang for the end of the period, all bets were off, and most students would whip out their treats, especially since our class was the midpoint to lunchtime. I never had to look at the clock to know what time it was in class, I could tell just from his little routine quirks. For example, I knew when there was about 5 minutes left of the lesson, he had quite the appetite, and I could hear his stomach growling for his midmorning snack at the exact same time. His eyes would change expression to a more worried look at that point, I guess hunger made him quite uncomfortable, I suppose I can relate to that worry. Perhaps his stature took more of a toll on his energy than expected as he was also quite short for an Addison, most of us top the charts at around 6 foot, but he was a mere 4 foot 10, which even added more rarity to his existence. Having to work harder to even just walk around campus must make his body crave high amounts of protein, so he quickly became a fan of having hard boiled eggs for his snack; they were quick to pack, easy to carry, came in their own wrapper, and took no time to gobble down. These were things I could tell he and I valued at the same time; efficiency, time saving, and major satisfaction results. Afterall, at the end of his snack, he had nothing to throw away while every other Addison that had a snack had some form of wrapper or package to toss; they clearly don’t see the damage they’re causing to our city with their carelessness in packaging.

Most Addisons would often give him dirty looks whenever he ate hard boiled eggs after class, it wasn’t because of the way he was eating them, it was because he was eating eggs in the first place. Eggs to Addisons, even those that come from farm animals, are considered a bit taboo to eat as many Addisons have the ability to lay eggs, and we view that as a form of cannibalism. Some lay ones that can be eaten, others can lay ones that can be used as a weapon, but in this day and age, it’s rare to ever see an Addison use their eggs for anything other than tossing them out once laid. You only ever see Addisons stooping so low as to eat their own eggs or other’s eggs when they are going through hard times, which again, was very rare as there hasn’t been a completely unsuccessful Addison in history.

It infuriated me with every lesson to see that trash bin filled with stuff that will never see the LED light again, never be used to its full potential. I hated it so much, it just made me want to pull the trash out of the barrel myself and rub it in everyone’s face, yelling at them not to waste so much. But I know that’s something I can’t do…

Or can I?...

I don’t know what caused it, but after months of scowling at that trash barrel and seeing “Sad Eyes” growing more and more hopeless with each lesson passing us by, a feeling I can’t describe suddenly came over me. I’ve yet to know what the feeling is truly called, but rumor has it that it’s something called “determination”. But either way, one day, an idea struck my mind like lightning, an idea that would help change not only the amount of garbage being thrown out between each individual, but also help shift the stigma of the little Addison who sat next to me. I knew I’d be the only one to carry this idea out, as it was… controversial to say the least. Addisons are not known for recycling, as evidenced by the Trash Zone not far from Cyber City. For an Addison to try and make a product from literal garbage, let alone sell it successfully, was completely unheard of, it was also about being shiny and brand spanking new to attract customers, Lightners with real money like loud and proud products such as those, and rarely show interest in thrifting. I thought it would be best to start with something that I knew was in high demand in my class; something to eat. Almost everyone in my class liked to eat something once the lesson was over, this would be my ticket to insert my recycling ideas into the grape vine…

But what would they want to eat? Everyone seemed to have something different everyday, it was difficult to determine a pattern of preferred snacks… except for “Sad Eyes”, he was the only one with a pattern I could recognize. He loved protein, especially hard boiled eggs… Perhaps the food idea I have could even break a second stigma! Yes, I will make something that not even “Sad Eyes” can’t resist; egg sandwiches! They’ll hit all his requirements; high in protein, major savory flavor points, and no waste if I wrap them in something compostable! I had no time to waste, I can’t let this idea leave my mind!

After my classes that day, I quickly ran to the student kiosk and grabbed some ingredients for the sandwiches, as well as requested a spot where I could sell my new idea. Addisons that want to sell food products, condiments, or basic household gadgets could request a space to begin selling their stuff, sort of like a practice for when they start to sell their stuff out in Cyber City. Plus, it was a way to make some quick cash if needed. But cash I really wasn’t interested in, I was on a bigger mission. I bought everything I would need to make the sandwiches and quickly ran back to my dorm, setting all the ingredients down on my desk. Now it was time for the hard part; getting the ratios of every ingredient correct. I knew it would take me a few attempts, so I made myself small batches to taste test which combination would be the tastiest. Batch one was of course way too strong on the mustardata, I needed to dial it back a bit. Batch two was too liquidy, too much RAMayo to egg. Batch three was lacking a bit of salt and pepper… Batch four tasted…

Incredible!

I had done it, the ultimate recycled egg sandwich was complete! Suddenly I was like a racecar, making sandwich after sandwich, until they filled up the space on my desk. Once those were done, I set to work also preparing some homemade ketchup to go with them, made out of the veggies I picked up from the kiosk. I quickly wrapped them up in their compostable wrapper and set them in the fridge. One dozen sandwiches, ready to be bought and enjoyed!...

Now I had to get them back to the student kiosk.

I didn’t want anyone to recognize me and begin to badger me about my creation, so I wore a large hoodie on my way to the store. With the egg sandwiches in hand, I sneakily but casually strolled into the student kiosk store and placed them inside the fridge where I had reserved a spot for me to sell them. I had asked the owner of the store if I could keep my name off of the shelf of my sandwiches as I wanted to remain an anonymous seller, which they found peculiar, but obliged as they believed they understood my feelings. Once they were in, I quickly made my way out without any students noticing me. I’m not sure where it came from, but afterwards I gained such a rush, knowing that something I had prevented from going to waste was going to go to good use, nourishing whoever will give it a try. Perhaps I was secretly desiring “Sad Eyes” to give them a try, he does love his protein, and rightfully so. But at that time, I didn’t care who was going to eat them, as long as they were eaten and enjoyed. The next day I walked by the student kiosk and saw the sandwiches were still there. I guess for most, purchasing an anonymous maker’s sandwich was a turn off, I don’t blame them, especially being made of eggs, but I was just so hesitant to be judged. I wanted the art to speak for itself, and it did just that the next day…

- - -

(10:45) Business Tactics 103 Auditorium on Friday:

“Now that we’ve covered the basics of bargaining, let’s begin to discuss alternative ways to get customers interested in the prices of your products.” Our professor spoke, changing the powerpoint slide to the next lesson.

Urgh, just thinking about that class makes me want to fall asleep… I was growing bored of the lesson, so I subtly looked over at “Sad Eyes” and watched him, he was just as slumped and exhausted as ever, with only half a page of notes filled out while I probably was on my fifth page of notes. He was clearly in a bad mood today if he couldn’t even be bothered to fix his spelling mistakes, which there were quite a lot. It made me curious how this dude even managed to read his notes after class and study from them. I suppose he finds a way, he does get at least a D on his tests, all he needs really. His hand began to slowly trail down the paper and create a slanted line, he must’ve been starting to fall asleep since his head began to lower towards the desk too. I swear he would’ve been out like a light in the middle of class, if it hadn’t been for-

*Grrrooowrrll*

His head suddenly jerked up and his hand jolted forward, drawing another slanted line on his notes. His expression changed to a more worried look; five minutes till class is over. His stomach was on time as always, alarming him to have his midmorning snack soon. After his rude awakening, he began to scramble last minute notes in his notebook. I could tell his hunger was bothering him since he was aggressively scribbling notes down to help distract him from the sensation. I’m not sure why, but that day…

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” I whispered to him.

I was lying about knowing what was wrong with him, but he didn’t exactly know that. In fact, it must’ve triggered some kind of nervousness in him, because his cheeks suddenly flushed more red than they already were, and he stammered his answer.

“Wh-What? N-No, I’m okay, just tired…” he whispered back, a slight crack in his voice.

I may have made the mistake of talking to him, because afterwards he suddenly tensed up, his hand shook as he took down notes, and the other hand wrapped around his belly. His pupils were shrunk, staring intensely at the powerpoint, sweat beginning to bead down the side of his head. I never knew someone could be so embarrassed about their hunger, typically Addisons just laugh or brush it off. But it’s as if to him, I just broke the antisocial shield he had built around himself, and now he had all eyes and ears on him, despite the fact that I was the only one looking at him. Each minute that passed his stomach kept trying to alarm him to eat, and I could see him curling up quite hard to try and muffle the noise. However, it didn’t take long for five minutes to pass, the bell announcing the end of class began to run. He suddenly uncurled himself, looking up at the clock on the wall.

“That’s all for today’s lesson, be sure to review chapters 8-10 before class next week!” The professor instructed.

Most of the Addisons began to pack up and head for the door, others stuck around in their seats and pulled out their midmorning treat, of course, with trash to throw away. Spamton did the same as he quickly pulled his backpack up into his lap and frantically searched his back compartment. His teeth tensed and he took a sharp inhale, pulling out a familiar wrapper. Its familiarity struck my mind, and I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the one of the egg salad sandwich packages I had placed in the student kiosk store days before! He quickly pulled one of the slices out of the packaging and wasted no time taking his first bite. My digital heart raced, curious and wondering what his reaction was going to be. Would he like them? Would he want to eat the whole thing? I thought I was going to start hyperventilating, I was so shocked that he actually bought one. It felt like forever waiting for his reaction…

. . .

His little pupils slowly lit up with life and sparkled, his mouth curled into a loving smile, and he let out a very soft and content “Mmmmm…” as his cheeks puffed from him chewing the sandwich. I had done it, not only was I able to recycle something that would’ve otherwise went to waste, but someone, especially “Sad Eyes”, actually enjoyed eating it! My mouth slowly fell open as I kept watching him eating my sandwich. He was savoring each little bite, tasting every inch of it, even going as far as to lick his lips when he got part of it around his mouth. Without my notice, another Addison approached the two of us.

“Hey, did you make that? It looks pretty good.” they asked “Sad Eyes”, pointing at the sandwich.

I suddenly snapped out of my tranced stare, and looked up at the Addison, they were quite the tall fellow, a nice golden yellow color, and hair pointed back. They seemed like a laid back Addison as their uniform was slightly untucked and their bowtie was undone. There was no doubt about it, something about my unique sandwich creation was intriguing to Addisons, and yet they don’t know why besides the taboo stigma. “Sad Eyes” perked up and gulped the mouthful quite loudly before answering.

“U-Uhhh… N-No, I didn’t make this, I bought it at the kiosk.” He replied.

“Oh, okay. What’s the name of it? I might give it a try.” They questioned.

“T-The name?... I don’t remember if it had a name…” he noted, looking at the wrapper for any kind of symbol or identification.

“Well that’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to find it when I check out the store later.” They shrugged, until they were suddenly interrupted by another Addison.

“Is that made of eggs!? You wanna eat THAT!? Don’t you know you’re gonna look like some kinda MONSTER eating that!?” they yelled two rows down.

It was a dark red colored Addison, a lot shorter than the tall golden Addison, but still much taller than “Sad Eyes”. I recognized him from my homec class, he was often the one to start trouble with the professors as he comes from a line of very rich and successful makeup marketing Addisons, so he thinks he’s hot shit. Nevertheless, it was clear the golden Addison wasn’t going to take that crap from him.

“Hey c’mon, don’t knock it till you try it.” The golden Addison defended and watched the red Addison strut away with disgust.

“Thanks for telling me where you got it.” They commented, picking up their backpack and slinging it over their shoulders as they left for the door.

“Sad Eyes” shrugged and went back to munching on the sandwich, finishing the first slice in just a matter of seconds. He picked up the second piece and decided to take out the pouch of homemade ketchup that was also in the packaging, squirting a bit of it on one of the corners. When he took the first bite of the second slice, he practically melted in his seat. The taste must’ve been euphoric for him as I saw his pupils almost roll to the back of his head, and he let out a louder “Mmmmm…” as he chewed. I couldn’t stop watching him, there was just something so precious about it. At this point, every other Addison had left the room, it was just us two and the professor, but neither of us had noticed, we were both fixated on the experience. Suddenly the professor took a ruler and cracked it on one of the nearby tables, scaring the absolute piss out of us out of our trance.

“HEY! You need to clear out, the next class is coming in 10 minutes!” the professor yelled.

I stood up and bowed my head.

“S-sorry sir, we were just heading out!” I apologized and packed my notes.

“Sad Eyes” quickly stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his backpack water bottle pocket and hastily packed his notes as well. He stepped down from his chair and the two of us walked out of the room, a bit shaken up from being yelled at. I wasn’t sure why, but we both stayed on the same path for at least 8 minutes, at first not saying a word. It wasn’t much of a surprise given the fact that we’re both a bit socially anxious, but eventually he broke the ice and stopped dead in his tracks. I didn’t realize he had stalled and I kept walking.

“Were… Were you watching me eat?” he queried, looking far up since I towered him.

I stopped and paused, my fist clenching a bit. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Shit, he noticed. I wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. Do I lie? Do I tell him the truth? I don’t think he’d forgive me if I told him I made that sandwich… Why?...

. . .

The recipe is a bit hard for others to understand.

. . .

The longer I waited to answer him, the less he was going to believe me, so I had to give him an answer quickly. But which answer do I give him!?

“I WASN’T!” I responded with great projection.

I covered my mouth and my pupils shrunk, my cheeks burning red hot, I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was steam coming off of me. I looked back down at him, and his eyes were squinted, glaring deep into my eyes.

“Look, if you wanted to know where I got the sandwich, you just had to ask. I’m not good at picking up context cues.” he lectured, taking the sandwich out of his water bottle packet.

I lowered my hands from my mouth and slowly peeked over, watching him take a bite of the half eaten sandwich slice. He continued to walk along the path, licking his lips to clear the mess of a bite he took. He took another big bite not long after, I began to wonder if he had enough room to fit the rest of it. I mean, it was a pretty big sandwich, especially in his little hands. My heart fluttered a bit when he made quite a loud gulp, finishing the mouthful he had. It sounded as though he was beginning to struggle putting the rest down. He surprised me by tossing the rest of it into his mouth, chewing it for a bit, pausing for a moment… He was staring right at me, I quickly averted my gaze, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He turned away, another loud gulp, polishing off the rest of the egg sandwich.

“There wasn’t a name or brand on this sandwich, I can’t tell you who I bought it from, only that it was at the kiosk..” he explained.

It was at that point that the two of us heard a faint little rumble below his chest, followed by “Sad Eyes” covering his mouth with a fist to conceal a burp. He didn’t really try to muffle it though, I felt my eyebrows raise, suppose I didn’t expect him to forget any manners.

“Sorry, that snack was a bit filling.” he pardoned himself, wiping his sweater clean of any stray crumbs.

“O-Oh, it’s fine, I get it.” I replied back, trying not to blush again.

I was still in awe that not only he bought one of my sandwiches without knowing who made it, but even enjoyed it, AND finished the whole thing! At his size, I thought he was going to end up having to give up halfway through, but he seemed to have enough space in his stomach to fit the whole thing without needing to settle down. I guess when you have to work harder to get around, your body’s gonna want a lot to eat. Now, there was a bigger question looming over my head…

Would he buy another?

A business only works if there are returning customers, right? Hopefully he enjoyed the flavor and size enough to want to buy another, I don’t see why not based on what I’ve witnessed in the past 20 minutes. I won’t be able to tell until we have class again tomorrow.

“Hey, I gotta go, okay?” he told me as he turned toward the left fork of the walking path.

“Huh? O-Oh, sure. Have a good day, I guess…” I answered back, turning to the right fork.

He headed towards the auto shop garage, he must’ve had a class in mechanics. I had to make my way toward my environmental class, which was the building two blocks down from our business building. I soon cleared my head of everything that happened that day and pushed into my archives. It was time for me to get on with my day, and hopefully, look forward to seeing if my idea would be appreciated by more than just one…

- - -

(9:30) Business Tactics 103 Auditorium on Monday:

Everyone had already sat down by the time I got to class. I quickly got to my seat up in the farthest row before the professor walked in and he shut the door. As I unpacked my notebook and pen, I looked over to see “Sad Eyes” chair was empty, not even his backpack was there…

Oh no… Did that mean?

N-No, there’s no way my egg sandwich would’ve done that to him, right?... Surely he was just running late, not stuck in bed with a stomach ache, right!?... It has been 3 days, food poisoning doesn’t last that long, does it? I swear I could feel sweat beading down my neck from stress.

“Now then class, today we’re going to talk about how to negotiate business territory disputes; how to compromise who sells what when two Addisons sell similar products of interest. Who’d like to tell the class-'' the professor spoke, before suddenly being interrupted.

Everyone turned to the door being swung open, revealing “Sad Eyes” covered in sweat too and deeply out of breath.

“S-Sorry I-I’m l_late… My… a-alarm clock b-broke…” he panted.

“Mr. Spamton, you’re 5 minutes late to class. This’ll be your final unexcused absence for this semester, got it?” the professor explained.

“Y-Yes Mr. Wardly…” he nodded, slowly making his way up to the seat next to me.

The whole class gave him a scowling glare as he stepped up to the 8th row. He sat down in his seat with a sigh, his backpack slowly sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a loud thud. He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his notebook and pencil, it was clear it was shoved in there without much care as a few of the pages were folded awkwardly. My god, “Sad Eyes” reeked of panic and for some reason, wet dog. I guess he was running too late to take a shower, or even brush his teeth for that matter. He must’ve run at least a few blocks just to get here, even with his short height, that’s quite a distance for any Addison to fully run; we’re not exactly athletes, unless you count the ones who love selling sports gear and equipment.

“As I was saying, today we are going to discuss territory negotiation; many of you will have similar product interests and thus, will be competing for prime real estate.” the professor continued, switching to the first slides of the lesson.

Urgh, I knew this lesson was going to suck, I’ve barely decided on what I want to sell besides those sandwiches. Nevertheless, I took down the notes as usual. I glanced over at “Sad Eyes” after ten minutes and could see that he had barely written down a thing, his eyes were deeply drooped, and his mouth hung slightly open. He didn’t look quite right, and that's saying something. But even on days that he didn’t get enough sleep, he wouldn’t ever be this shut down. It didn’t occur to me what was wrong with him until something in his behavior routine changed.

*Groowwrrlrll*

His eyes shot open like snapped window shades, and his mouth quickly shut, turning into a concerned frown. He had skipped breakfast; no wonder why he was acting so differently. I felt bad for him, I knew hunger was like mental torture to him, and now he has to face it for the whole class. His hunger must’ve echoed in the auditorium because a couple of the Addisons that sat near us glared up with irritation. I acted as blasé as I could, trying not to attract any attention to us, but poor “Sad Eyes” looked like he was about to start crying. However, it looked like he got some sort of idea, as he slowly bent over and rummaged through his bag quietly. I could see something glittering in one of the pockets, it appeared to be some kind of wrapper. He slowly pulled it out and it was revealed to be a protein bar. I had thought, ‘Oh good, he had a breakfast backup’, but he was running the risk of being caught. Our professor hated when students ate in his class, he believed it to be a “distraction”. I betcha it was because the professors were supposed to remain “professional” when teaching, and the traditional staff viewed eating as unprofessional. “Sad Eyes” began to open the wrapper, careful not to make any noise… That’s when it happened.

*Grrgglrll*

The sudden announcement of hunger in his body caused him to jolt and rip the wrapper open with a loud crackle. The professor immediately stared at him. He slammed his ruler down on the table. Oh shit, he looked pissed.

“Mr. Spamton, are you eating in my class!?” the professor yelled.

“U-Uh…” ��Sad Eyes” stuttered.

Without hesitation, our professor began to storm up the steps with a trash can, and suddenly “Sad Eyes” began to shove the bar into his mouth, chewing aggressively. But it was too late. His cheeks were clamped tight by Mr. Wardly’s firm grip. He flinched as the professor’s grasp was sharp and painful. A little yelp escaped his mouth, along with the protein bar he was trying to sneak. The professor let go once he was satisfied all of it was dumped in the trash bin.

“Owww, that hurt…” he whimpered and rubbed his cheeks.

“No exceptions, Mr. Spamton! One more interruption and you’ll be suspended from my class for a week, are we clear?” he scolded.

“Sad Eyes” swallowed hard and nodded, still cringing from the pain in his cheeks.

“Good… Now, let’s get back to the lesson.” the professor announced, stepping down to the main floor, setting the trash can down and changing the powerpoint slide.

I looked over at “Sad Eyes” and he had his head down on the desk, buried in his crossed arms. I guess he had given up any chance of paying attention in class today, I don’t blame him, it’s hard to pay attention on an empty stomach. Not only that, but he was starting to become a class outcast as his hunger was causing other students to be distracted. Every couple of minutes his stomach rumbled, and alternating staredowns and shushes from nearby Addisons would soon follow. I guess the professor had noticed too, but decided to ignore him and continue with the class since he’d already paused twice to deal with “Sad Eyes” accordingly. It was so hard to watch him in this saddened state, I needed to do something without interrupting class. But, would he accept my help, or end up getting too flustered and end up getting suspended?...

Only one way to find out…

I slowly shuffled my seat over to him, and gently placed my hand on his back. At first he didn’t notice, until I then began to rub his back up and down. His head peered out above his crossed arms, his face was covered in tears. He looked up at me and softly sniffled, I closed my eyes and nodded, hoping he would pick up on my attempt to comfort him. I guess he got the message and laid his head down on his arms, taking some deep breaths and slowly relaxing. I continued to rub his back, switching to big circles and pressing deeper. His eyelids began to droop, slowly succumbing to the thoughtful gesture. This seemed to have also calmed his hunger as well since his belly had gone quiet for most of the lesson, he was still clearly uncomfortable from the empty sensation, but at least he was able to compose himself and avoid class suspension. I didn’t even care that I was missing out on writing notes from today’s lesson, I could easily ask someone for the notes, Addisons aren’t really known to gate-keep information unless they want to charge you for their “services”. Time flew by for me since I was so focused on comforting him, but I’m sure it felt like forever for him. Finally the bell for the end of the class had rung.

“That’s it for today’s lesson, make sure to read up on chapters 12-14 for this week’s quiz!” the professor announced.

“Sad Eyes” shot up from his moping position, and immediately snatched his bag, rummaging through it. I quickly pulled my hand back, satisfied he was feeling a bit better, and began to pack my notes, when I saw what he pulled out…

I couldn’t believe it.

Another one of my egg sandwiches! He ripped the packaging off and grabbed one of the slices, taking a deep bite, and slightly moaning in flavorful pleasure. His pupils rolled to the back of his head, and he leaned forward to make sure he didn’t drop any bits onto the floor. It must’ve been so relieving to finally eat something after having to go through the morning without any food. I leaned back in my seat and smirked, it felt really good to know that I helped him in his time of need, especially with something I helped save from being wasted. He soon finished his first slice and moved onto the next, taking his time with this one. As the students who stayed behind to eat a snack began to pack up to leave, more took notice of what “Sad Eyes” was eating. Four of them approached our desk, two curiously staring while the other two had grimaces on their faces.

“Hey, what’s that you’re eating?” The yellow one asked, pointing at the sandwich.

“That’s not eggs, is it?” The pink one butted in, their nose scrunched up.

“Eggs? From where?” The orange one questioned, tilting their head.

“Where’d you get it from?” The blue one curiously asked, peering over the other three.

“Sad Eyes” looked a bit overwhelmed, stammering a bit before answering them.

“I uh… got it from the kiosk. It’s actually pretty good.” he replied, taking another bite.

Suddenly the four of them turned to me and asked at the same time.

“Do YOU like them too?”

My face went frighteningly blank with fear and I gave them a hesitant nod, which seemed to have been enough for them to step back and talk amongst themselves. From their body language, I could tell that most of them were now debating their next move.

“Alright, now I gotta know what it’s like.” The orange one announced.

“Are you serious!? You’re gonna look like a crazy person!” The pink one interjected.

“Hey, you don’t know, man!” The yellow one countered.

“Wonder who made it…” The blue one wondered before following them outside.

I was in complete awe, I didn’t think “Sad Eyes” just eating my egg sandwiches would begin to spark such curiosity so quickly! Now in just two days, five different Addisons wanted to know where he got it, and maybe tomorrow they might give them a try! I quickly packed my notes back into my backpack and began to head for the door towards the student kiosk. I would need more ingredients and inventory if this was going to be the case. Part of me did want to stay and watch him finish his food, but I knew I would gain more suspicion if I was caught staring at him. I’m… still shy about revealing that I was the one who made them. When I arrived at the kiosk, I noticed there was a bit of a crowd surrounding my sandwich spot. I kept a low profile and put my hoodie up, hoping no one would approach me and come asking questions. As I grabbed what I needed, I couldn’t help but overhear some of the murmured conversations amongst everyone standing there.

“Who do you think made it?” some of them asked.

“Do you think it’ll actually taste good?” others wondered.

“Well it’s gotta be good if even that white Addison is eating them!” one piped in, it was the orange Addison from before.

“I dunno man, I mean… Eggs? Isn’t that kinda wrong?” a smaller green Addison pointed out.

“Fuck it, I’m getting one.” a rather large purple Addison huffed, grabbing one sandwich.

Suddenly the crowd lost their minds with a few of them gagging and the other half going “ooooo”, while some gave the Addison a pat on the back for being their guinea pig. I watched as the purple one purchased the sandwich and opened up the wrapper, taking a rather large bite while the others stood around them and stared with longing. After a couple chews, the purple Addison turned to everyone and gave them a nod, which sent them into an even bigger frenzy. To my surprise, three more of them grabbed a sandwich and stood in line to purchase them! Had I truly done it? Had I just changed the stigma of our people?... it was still only a small group, and those outside of our school had no idea this change of perspective was going on. I had a long way to go to change the minds of everyone around me. I stood in line and waited my turn, and each Addison that bought a sandwich quickly opened them up and had a taste. Some left before I could hear what their thoughts about them were, but the ones I could hear definitely seemed excited about its taste. If I was going to do this, I needed to make sure I kept up with the demand, so I decided to go ahead and purchase double what I bought last time. Once everything was paid for, I headed back to my dorm and got to work, making sure to follow the ratio of ingredients exactly. There was a bit of a problem, I was on the last of the eggs, I would need more if I needed to make more batches…

But that wouldn’t be a problem…

I know exactly where to get more…

- - -

(10:45) Business Tactics 103 Auditorium on Thursday:

“Now class, let’s go over the summary of what we learned today about balancing costs and profits.” our professor lectured, switching to the next powerpoint.

Word had got around about the egg sandwiches, and it seemed like a fourth of the class had bought one today. I was so excited to see all my hard work pay off, and watch as that trash barrel be barely halfway filled. It was so hard to stay still in my seat, I was so tempted to get up and dance a jig, but I knew I’d both look like a fool, and probably be suspended by our professor. As I finished up the notes I needed for that day, I glanced over at “Sad Eyes” to see what he was up to in terms of his mood today. To my surprise, he had quite a bit of notes written down, he was even on his second page. In the months that we’ve sat together in class, I had never seen him make two pages of notes, but there it was. Perhaps he was just impatient and really looking forward to his midmorning snack, which resulted in his attention span increasing. All I could do was wait for his signal that class was almost over…

. . .

“What are you doin’?” “Sad Eyes” asked me with eyes squinted in suspicion.

Oh fuck. He noticed I was staring at him. What should I do?

“U-Uh, I- Y-you got a pencil I can borrow?” I stammered.

“You… have one, in your hand?” he pointed out.

Dammit. I could already feel my face beginning to burn hot with embarrassment. I had to think of something else.

“A-Actually uh, w-what time is it?” I questioned, barely even able to squeak out the words.

“Time? Uhh… it’s-”

*Grroowwrrlrll*

Five minutes left, on time like always. Oof, “Sad Eyes” didn’t look so good now. He stuttered his words as he told me it was 10:55, his hands shakily balled into fists, his teeth slowly clamped together, his shoulders hunched, and his eyes strained to stay open. His cheeks, usually rosy to begin with, flushed a deep hot red as sweat began to trickle down the side of his head. As much as I wanted to offer him some words of empathy, I felt my voice shut down, and I had no choice but to turn back and face the front of the class, leaving “Sad Eyes” to deal with his inner demons on his own. I made sure I wasn’t turned towards the front enough to where I couldn’t glance over at him, but enough to where it didn’t look like I was spying on him. I watched as he jolted back to facing forward, and scribbling down notes aggressively. His pupils had shrunk to tiny dots, and his legs were curled up under his chair towards his body. Yeesh, he looked like he had been thrown off a building. He was that tense. I struggled to keep my eyes off of him, but there was such a drive in me to want to just scoop him up and cuddle him until-

Wait… What am I thinking? Without realizing it at first, the bell had rung for the end of class.

“That’s it for today’s lesson, don’t forget we have our big quiz tomorrow, and I expect you all to be prepared!” our professor announced.

“Sad Eyes” quickly broke from his concentration and began to rummage through his bag, pulling out that familiar package. Suddenly I began to hear not just him opening up his sandwich, but others as well. There were three, no, five, no!... there were a dozen other students with the same egg sandwich as him! One at a time, they took their first bite, and there was a chorus of delicious smiles, chubby cheeks, and plenty of soft “mmmm”s from each and every one of them! I felt my little digital heart flutter with pure joy and pride, watching every Addison happily munch at something I created to not only nourish them, but to help our city from the wrath of pollution. As I began to pack up my things, I noticed the four Addisons that approached us the other day had stayed behind in class… TO EAT MY EGG SANDWICHES!?

“C’mon Click, take a bite, it’s good!” the yellow one teased, pushing a slice near the pink one’s mouth.

“Stop it Vid, I’m not eating it!” Click yelled, smacking Vid’s hand away.

“It’s better than you thought, right Banner?” the orange one asked the blue one.

“Definitely, Survey. You’re really missing out, Click.” Banner smirked, taking another bite.

“ALRIGHT! Alright, fine! I’ll try a bite just to shut you three up!” Click agreed, snatching the slice from the yellow one’s hand.

The five of us all watched with awe as Click reluctantly took a bite of the sandwich slice. He slowly took a few cautious chews before swallowing, his face crumpled with embarrassment.

“HA! Admit it, you like it, Click!” Vid shouted, pointing a finger in Click’s face.

“Okay okay, it tastes fine! Are you happy now!?” Click roared with humiliated rage as he stormed toward the exit.

“HEY, WAIT FOR US!” Vid yelled, grabbing his supplies in a hurry and running after him.

The other two Addisons calmly packed their stuff before following the two to the exit. I looked over at “Sad Eyes” to see if he had finished his snack, and he was on his last piece. God, his little chubby cheeks were so charming. I finished packing my supplies as well and sat back down next to him, giving him a bit of a smug grin.

“You’ve sure taken a shine to those egg sandwiches.” I told him.

“Heh heh, yeah, they’re just so good and so convenient! Plus it’s a big portion for the price, you get a good deal out of them.” he replied, shrugging.

“Seems like everyone else in the class noticed their value too, it’s a hit.” I chuckled, putting my backpack on. “C’mon, we should head out now.”

“Alright, I’ll walk with you.” he agreed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing the rest of his snack.

The two of us headed for the door and outside to the rest of the campus. Falling leaves of multiple colors scattered at our feet. it was getting colder, winter must be close now, especially if our finals were approaching. It felt good to know that the two of us were just one exam away from our last year on campus. I looked over at “Sad Eyes” and he was just about finishing his snack, giving a fuzzy staticed hiccup. The two of us laughed as we headed back to our dorms, saying goodbye to each other before parting ways. We didn’t realize it at the time, but this became our own little routine for the rest of our time together in academy; go to class, watch “Sad Eyes” eat his snack, watch as more and more of the class switching to my egg sandwiches without knowing who made them, and us walking down the paths together. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into the next year of our training. Sadly the two of us were never paired up in the same class again, but I could still see him walking down the road towards the mechanics, he must’ve wanted to pursue that as his chosen career. Meanwhile I had begun to attend some environmental courses to better learn how to utilize every material around me to my advantage, and turn our pollution problem around. It was not the most praising course to be taking, but I took pride in the path I chose. Though, it was nice to see that “Sad Eyes”’s influence with my sandwiches didn’t fade after the next year began, some of the Addisons in my classes were eating them for breakfast or snack. And of course, I always saw him with one, munching away on his way towards his dorm. Once the sales of the sandwiches leveled out to a reasonable estimation of quantity, I was able to better focus on my studies, I surely wasn’t going to be able to pursue my dreams if my grades were slacking. I guess you don’t really know how fast time passes when you’re working hard, because before I knew it…

- - -

Graduation Day.

Man, it felt good to finally be free of all those boring lessons. I’m sure “Sad Eyes” was also relieved to be away from some of those shitty professors, and could now pursue his career just like everyone else in our class. With my cap on my head, the tassel was turned, and I stood up to shake the hand of the dean and receive my diploma. A few moments later, “Sad Eyes” stepped onto the stage, and did the same, it was kinda cute getting to witness the dean kneeling down to even shake his hand at his height. There were faint murmurs of backtalk in the crowd of Addisons as he walked on stage. They talked behind his back when he arrived at the academy, and talked behind his back as he graduated, typical. Once the ceremony was over, all of us marched out of the auditorium with smiles and pride. As much as I wanted to stay behind and congratulate him myself, I had no time to waste. The minute after the ceremony, I had set up an appointment to meet up with an Addison that specializes in leasing building spaces. There was a certain space that I found in the paper that I just HAD to have to start my little recycling studio in! With my diploma in hand, I rushed down the streets of Cyber City and past all the traffic to the vacant building, where he was waiting for me, suit, tie and all. I probably looked like a fool running up to him in my cap and gown, but I had no time to change into my street clothes, or even something a bit more formal.

“Hey there Phoenix, glad you could make it on such short notice! I’m Seamus, nice to meet you.” Seamus greeted with a handshake.

“Hey Seamus, thanks for agreeing to meet with me, I was really hoping to put an offer down for the place as soon as I could see it with my own eyes.” I replied.

“Oh definitely! Are you familiar with the building’s features? Lemme show you around.” Seamus insisted, leading me inside.

My pupils grew wide as I scanned the area with much giddiness. It was everything I had hoped for and more, so much space to work in, so many lights to brighten the place up, and tons of storage room to organize my findings! It even had a little bar I could sell my sandwiches from! The place just screamed perfection, there was no doubt about it, I had to have it!

“So, what do you think? Wanna place an off-” Seamus asked before I had cut him off.

“I’ll take it!” I shouted, throwing a stack of dark dollars I had in my pocket.

“Heh heh heh, excellent. I’ll prepare the paperwork…” Seamus chuckled, slowly putting my money into his suit coat.

As much as I was aware of how quick Seamus was to ask an offer from me, I still had fallen for the oldest Addison trick in the book; sell with confidence. And that was it, I was now the proud renter of this building. God, I wanted to get to work so fast, I don’t care if I have to sleep in here to do so! During the next hour, I was rushing back and forth from my workshop to my dorm, grabbing all my belongings, and tossing them into one of the storage closets. Since I’m no longer a student at the academy, my stuff has to leave the dorm, and I am too lazy and excited to drive it back to my apartment. If I needed to sleep in my new closet in order to get my studio ready for business as soon as possible, then so be it! Soon all my belongings were in my new studio, and it was time to begin shaping my career!

This place needs a fun paint job, maybe some pink over there, and a tie dye turquoise wall over there, and I definitely need some string lights around the bar! I need some furniture too, maybe a couch over there, and some high stools by the windows so people can look outside and sit, and-

Wait… Where am I gonna get all the stuff?

I had to pause and consider where I was really going to start, I had just spent all the money I made from selling those sandwiches to get this place, and I’m back to square one in terms of ideas. I can’t afford any furniture or paint!...

Or can I?

My recycling intuition was kicking in. What was I thinking? I got a degree specializing in repurposing, use your creativity! Yeah, screw BUYING new furniture, I’ll make it myself! Where would be the best place for materials? Aha! Of course, the academy dumpster! All the rich family Addisons always threw out the belongings they didn’t want to commute home with them, there’s bound to be tons of good stuff for me to use! Locking up my studio, I ran back to the academy and wasted no time getting my hands dirty. Luckily when students are moving into dorms, they provide carts to help move larger possessions, so I took advantage of one and used it to tote everything I found in the bins. There was everything you could imagine; old lamps, chairs, pretty carpets, tons of string lights, paper decorations, cans of old paint, and even pallets of wood I could use to craft the furniture with! The upholstery on the chairs I could use to make the couches comfy, and really add some pop and color to my studio. With my new inventory, I rolled everything back to my studio, making sure no one caught me borrowing one of the carts. That whole night, I got to work assembling my new accents, painting the walls to my liking, and setting up the fridges and kitchen. In just a couple days, my place was sparkling gorgeous, filled with products to sell, and ready for business! Once I finished up the tiny details and gave the place a good sweep, I flipped the open sign for the first time, and waited for the crowds to come flooding in…

And waited…

. . .

Hrmm, maybe I should do some advertising.

- - -

“Phoenix’s Recycled Fashion and Furniture: The Only Place In Town That’s Honest About Selling You Pure Garbage!... No, that sucks, why would I tell them the stuff’s made of garbage before they even buy it?” I mumbled to myself, tossing another crumpled paper into the recycle bin.

It has been a few days since I first opened my new shop, and so far there hasn’t been a single customer. Perhaps it was because on the inside it looked like a fun place to peruse and partake, but on the outside, it just looked like some shitty warehouse that a drifter was sleeping in! I spent so much time making the inside and my products spiffy, but took no time to plan out where I was going to start roping in customers. How do other Addisons get their products in the public’s faces; billboards? Can’t afford one of those. Posters? I think I need a permit before putting those out. Free samples? I don’t exactly have furniture that can be given away like- wait. Free samples of my sandwiches, of course! Addisons love free food, well, mainly anything free for that matter, but especially food since that means they don’t have to eat or spend the money they earned to eat that day. I rushed over to my shop’s bar and pulled out a few of the sandwiches from the fridge, cutting them into little finger sammies. After arranging them nicely on a plate, I put on a cute little apron and stepped outside, holding the tray out for anyone that passed by to see. It didn’t take longer than 2 minutes for one Addison to grow curious enough to approach.

“Hey, what you got there?” they asked.

“These are my special sandwiches, care for a taste? They’re also on sale in a larger portion!” I explained to them, holding the tray closer to them.

“Ehh, why not? It’s free.” they shrugged, and took one piece off the tray and popped it into their mouth.

About two chews in, I could see their pupils dilate and their mouth sides curl up. It looked as though they had just tasted a bite of heaven.

“Whoa, you made these yourself?” they questioned, their face beaming with excitement.

“You bet! Only $4.99 for the whole thing!” I smiled, waving my hand toward my building’s door.

“Alright, I’ll take one!” they said, holding out five dark dollars and stepping inside.

I led them in and took out a whole sandwich from the fridge, handing it to them in exchange for the cash. My first ever sale! Once they received their food, they also began to look around at the furniture with such wide eyes and genuine interest. Other Addisons outside started to peer into my windows, wondering what the first Addison was doing in there. Slowly they entered one at a time, taking a good look at my products. Who knew the power of free stuff could drive in so many customers? By the end of that hour, more than half of them decided to purchase something, whether it be a sandwich, or one of the chairs I reupholstered the other day, I had made over $50. I couldn’t believe I had made this much money without spending a dime on any of the materials! Well, I guess I did have to buy the condiments for the sandwiches, and the electricity for the building, and the plumbing… but you get the idea. If I was going to keep up these sales, I would need some higher quality items. It was time to diversify my inventory!

- - -

And with that, we get to the point in the story where we are now… I had spent a few months making new kinds of sandwiches and finding higher end furniture and jewelry to restore. However, I got into a bit of trouble going through the Queen’s bins looking for some broken royal furniture, she recently had an eviction and I was hoping to find some of what they might have thrown out. I didn’t get so lucky, and was caught by the Swatchlings. Heh, word got around that I was dumpster diving, and now business has been a bit slower. Y’know, sometimes I do wonder what happened to “Sad Eyes”, I heard rumors that he wasn’t doing so hot either. I wish I could see him just one more-

*knock knock*

I turned my head toward the source of the knocking, and who do I see?... It was “Sad Eyes”! I was in shock, how did he know where to find me!? There’s no way I could be dreaming this, right!? I stepped over to my door and slowly opened it.

“...Spamton? Is… that you?” I confronted him.

Good lord, he looked like shit. Observing him from top to bottom, his hair was heavily dyed back and very greasy, with little bits of wrappers sticking out. He was wearing fogged up pink and yellow glasses, his eyes behind them just as sunken and dark as I remember. His cheeks were bony, yet still faintly rosy. His white sweater was stained with what I could only describe as dumpster juices, and his black coat had several popped seams, exposing his sweater's long sleeves through the holes. His body was rather thin underneath the puffy clothing, and his legs seemed to be struggling to hold himself up. He was also missing some pants, I wasn’t sure where he lost them, but it was clear they were missing for a long time, his legs were covered in filth. It was such a sad sight to see my old friend in. After a moment, he finally spoke.

“HEY THERE [loyal customer], FANCY [I see you] IN THESE [parts and services]!” he answered.

I gasped, kneeling down to his level.

“Spamton, wh-what happened to your voice? And… where have you been? You look terrible…” I asked.

He laughed maniacally, it took me aback a bit.

“I USED TO BE THE [talk of the town] THE [ultimate life form] UNTIL I WAS CUT FROM MY [Life Alert: Call Now!] AND KICKED OUT OF THE [Queen’s Gambit]! THEY THREW ME IN THE [lava] AS MY [life sentence] AND MY [$99.99 speaker] HAS BEEN [broke] EVER SINCE!” he replied.

“Oh my god, YOU were the one that was evicted? That’s awful… Do you have a new place to stay?” I wondered.

“MY [home sweet home] IS OVER BY THE [trash zone], IT’S NOT SO BAD ONCE YOU GET OVER THE [hopelessness]!” he smiled unnaturally.

“You’re staying in the trash? Spamton, that’s not good for you, you need to get back on your feet… But, I can’t afford to help you find a new home, I’m only making enough to support myself…” I told him with worry.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY [inventory] TO [nom nom]?” he requested, his arms stretched towards me.

“What did you say? It’s a bit hard to understand you.” I implored him, holding his face in my hands.

*Grrrggrrlll*

“Sad Eyes” looked down at his noisy belly and I checked my watch.10:55, hmph, just like old times, his stomach always knew when to signal him at the exact same time everyday. It should’ve occurred to me earlier that if he was living in the garbage, he wasn’t going to be eating regularly and therefore might be starving enough to look for free samples from stores around him. Just like years ago, his expression changed to a more worried look and his shoulders tensed. His glasses even took on a greyer and fuzzier appearance. He looked a lot more miserable about his hunger in this condition. But to my surprise, he quickly jerked his head back up and disturbingly smiled wide.

“SORRY FOR THAT [surround sound] I HAVEN’T [wined and dined] IN [9999999] DAYS! YOUR [homemade storefront site] CLAIMS TO HAVE [$3.99 lunchables] TO SELL. I’VE COME TO [brand new offer] YOU SOME [fabulous products] IN EXCHANGE FOR ONE [Chicken Little] SANDWICH!” he explained, rubbing his belly with one hand and reaching into his pocket and pulling out an old battery with the other hand.

I stared at the battery in his hand, god he looked pathetic trying to swindle me with literal garbage. Still, there was something slightly charming about it, he sure had some guts trying to make the trade a reality. I shook my head and chuckled.

“Spamton, y-you don’t need to offer me any… “products”, if you needed something to eat, you should’ve told me right away.” I told him, slowly taking the battery out of his hand and putting it on the counter.

I’ll have to remember to slip that battery back into his pocket…

I stood up and ran over to my storage fridge, and grabbed a tray of my premade egg sandwiches. When I turned around, I didn’t realize he had followed me over, and he immediately grabbed the sandwich off the tray and without even removing the wrapper, took a large bite out of it. I was a bit startled, his mouth looked like a snake unhinging its jaw to eat something way too big for him. In fact, other parts of his body looked like it was moving with hinges, bolts, and springs. There was something about him that no longer looked natural, almost like he was made of some sort of clothing material. It didn’t take me long to see that he had completely transformed from a corporeal Addison to some kind of puppet, complete with plushy fingers and stubs for feet. If he was hungry, then he must still be still intact like a normal Addison on the inside, I doubt puppets would need to eat if he had completely changed. He sat down against the bar to enjoy his sandwich, and I slowly slid down to sit next to him. My digital heart felt achy seeing him in such a sorry state.

“Jeez, you must’ve been starving… You can have as many as you need, I know you used to have quite the appetite back in the academy.” I told him, watching him finish the first slice with a chomp.

“THANKS FOR YOUR [generosity], I’LL MAKE SURE TO [stock up] FOR THE [impending doom] THAT IS [winter sale: buy now!]” he stuttered, grabbing another sandwich from the tray.

Something felt… Off. Very off. Normally it made my body tingle with joy to observe him eating my sandwiches, but today it didn’t feel quite right. I didn’t feel any vicarious pleasure, I felt majorly uncomfortable. Maybe it was just seeing him eat in such desperation, or maybe it was just hard to see him in this bodily condition. But in the back of my mind, I knew what was truly bothering me.

I had never told him the truth about what he was eating.

. . .

I think it’s time to tell him.

. . .

“Spamton, listen… There's something I need to tell you about those sandwiches you’ve been eating.” I mumbled, finding it difficult to confront him directly.

“HAHEAHEAHEAHA! WHAT DID YOU WANT TO [confess thy sins] about YOUR [protein packed snack]?” he asked, his head jerking to face me with an unnerving smile.

I took a deep breath.

“Spamton… the eggs in these sandwiches…” I hesitated.

“YES [Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney]?”

. . .

“Are from me.” I confessed.

. . .

“Sad Eyes”’s glasses slowly went grey and fuzzy again, and his head slowly looked toward the half eaten sandwich he was holding. Oh god, is he gonna be furious at me? Should I have buried the secret in my grave? Is he gonna get sick? Maybe I should apologize to-

“YOU MADE THESE [$4.99 easter eggs] YOURSELF?” he questioned, turning his head quickly to look at my eyes directly.

“U-Uh, y-yeah… Listen, I’m sorry that I never told you about-” I started, but I was cut off.

“THAT’S REALLY [cooldown commence], I WISH I COULD DO THAT WITH MY [PiPiS], BUT THEY’RE [danger: flammable]! IT WOULD’VE CERTAINLY [help wanted] WITH MY [act fast]!” he praised, smiling widely and taking another bite.

“What!? Y-You’re not mad they eggs are from me?” I asked, completely gobsmacked.

“NO. IN FACT, I WOULDN’T MIND [another one], ESPECIALLY KNOWING NOW THEY’RE [locally grown] AND [health facts]!”

“B-But, even with our society’s taboo against it… You don’t care how you’ll look eating it?”

“NO.”

Wow. Even after all the years of judgment he got as an Addison who defied societal expectations and was abandoned by the world and left to rot in the garbage, he still doesn’t care about what others think of him, even if it means… staying in the garbage forever… Man, his self esteem puts my self doubts about my business to shame.

“...I could really learn a thing or two about confidence from you, Spamton. You were a blue moon Addison, and yet walked your own path despite the pressure…”

I shifted a bit closer to him.

“Y’know, I don’t have enough to offer you a place to stay, but I could certainly use a hand around the shop if you need some work. I’d be willing to offer you free meals everyday and half of the tip jar as payment. Maybe overtime you could even earn enough to get back on your feet, what do you say?” I offered him.

“A [once in a lifetime opportunity]!? HOW COULD I [terminate] THAT OFFER!? YOU’VE GOT A [deal or no deal]!” he shouted, holding his hand out for a handshake.

I smiled and took his hand, he wasted no time taking his other hand and shaking my hand with both of his quite aggressively.

“Heh heh heh, glad to hear! Now, we should probably get you washed up before you start. I don’t exactly want you handling anything edible without being at least squeaky clean. I'm sure you’re looking forward to a nice warm shower and new clothes. Lemme check my storage shed and see if I have anything in your size.” I announced, heading towards the back of my boutique.

“[Hochi Mama]! [free samples], A [brand new] WARDROBE. AND A [promotion]!? THIS IS MY [Lucky Lottery] DAY!” he squealed, skipping behind me.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘You gave a job to someone you barely knew from college and might rob you blind when you turn your back for one second and make off with your entire life savings!?’

Yes. Yes I did. Because he was, and still is, my best egg sandwich customer.

Now, would you care for an egg sandwich?

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