#while juggling several crushes. how DOES she do it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

hey hannah! hope you are doing great darling ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ i may have a request in mind, a university/college au with jock!jk and shy art major!yn or an olympics au? with olympic athlete!jk and olympic athlete!yn (you decide which sports!) thank you so much in advance ♡

never (k)not you

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

notes: baby ok FIRST OF ALL, i’m so sorry i only got to write this now :(( it’s been three months since you sent in this request bUT well it’s here now :D thank you so much for requesting and waiting!! i really hope ur still here or else i-i... will lose it

if you squint, best friend!tae is actually rich kid tae both from the art major drabble and insufferable!!

lunch with taehyung either makes the both of you the LOUDEST motherfuckers in the planet or it’s just comfortable silence

comfortable silence’s more common whenever the two of you are in public because to put it simply

he’s cold and you’re shy!! makes sense

but god just mention his girlfriend’s name oNCE and he’ll talk your ear off and you get genuinely excited when he is

he just needs to mention gouache for less than a second and you will genuinely freak

then suddenly the both of you are the chattiest beings ever and absolutely no one will yield until they get the final say

but this

this just feels weird...

because it’s lunch and you’re not talkative and the silence is most definitely not comfortable

you just know tae has something up his sleeve and will probably catch you off-

“are you and jungkook a thing?”

...

......

it’s never actually registered in your head that you and jungkook are a THING but absolutely no one knows

literally no one

not even the dust living underneath your bedframe!! or if guardian angels existed, then they’d probably be clueless as fuck

lol wait what was that cold gust of wind on ur arms

jungkook is the dreamiest man alive and he’s been your boyfriend for what?? two years now??

and the two of you, and more of him actually, insisted to keep it private

your relationship is none of anyone’s business and it uh.,. it literally seems to be that way because sometimes even yOU forget that you’re in a relationship

jungkook avoids you like the plague and you keep to yourself like you do with all your gouache

this dynamic of no one knowing has been so instilled in you that tae’s innocent (?) question is enough to make you spiral little by little

taehyung was just harboring an idea ok

because like two days ago when you went out with him and his girlfriend for ice cream, jungkook was there too by himself

and that just seems like pure coincidence

but then they dOn’t seem like coincidences anymore when he realizes on the same day how many classes he was in where you were in

and you don’t even have the same major!!!

or when he’s walking you home because your apartment is literally on the right side of his girlfriend’s (changbin’s on the left) and he’s taking every possibility he gets

but it just so happens that uh... jungkook’s always there from a distance? like when the two of you are walking and that guy just hAD to be there at the back??

goddamn it tae should’ve gotten his parents’ offer for personal security while he’s studying in campus :((

“woah woah wOAH what’s the matter?” you panic when he shoves you inside your apartment the moment you manage to open it

“this fucking jungkook guy is either stalking you or me and it’s starting to get on my nerves!!”

“... taehyung-“

and then he realized that oh... ok... i see

what if this guy has a crush on you??

but it didn’t make sense because why would this soccer guy (no offense) that’s a jock (no offense) who always either looks high with how giggly he is (no offense) or bereaved with how he scowls (no offense) could POSSIBLY like you???

you who’s the art major (no offense) with your clothes almost exactly like he is (no offense) that he has an inkling that either you were copying him or him copying you (no offense) and the shyness that you absolutely wouldn’t talk to anyone unless they go first and tHAT even became a tough cookie for him!! h i m

wait

on another thought...

that does make sense

you and jungkook are more likely to be a couple than anyone else more alike to either of you, no offense :D

and the way now that you’re frozen and scoffing like ur voicing mater’s engine in cars

“w-what? FUCK no!!”

mhmmm

yeah that’s the spot

taehyung means this in full offense but you’d be absolutely bankrupt if ever you wanted to try your hand at poker when your tell is literally cussing in capital when you’re flustered

this is the equivalent of your mom leaving you by the line to the cashier at the grocery when she needs to get something and you’re next at the line and you have no money on you and you’re too hesitant to tell the person behind you to-

“why? are you thinking of asking him out?”

he hears you seethe and that’s only the second time he’s heard you actually do that so he may have straightened his posture a lil

you wouldn’t hold it against taehyung because jungkook is one fINE specimen and tae doesn’t stare from that description anyway

you just can’t help but feel a lil.....

ಠ_ಠ

because you know that jungkook is yours and when it comes to things like these, you can’t do anything about it

how could you??

fine... if taehyung tries to-

smack!

the fact that your friend has a gigantic palm for one doesn’t soothe the gears in your head

you’re positive that your brain actually shook inside your head for a split second

“i already have someone, dumbass.”

taehyung has to remind you again to which you immediately awe in remembrance, a sheepish smile on your face bc for a moment, you actually considered begging for tae to back the fuck off without making it seem you’re already with jungkook

he waves you off because you’re about to coo at him again, a small smile on his face because he wouldn’t forget how he’s so lucky

it’s nice to be in love!!

you should probably try it some time

but then again, taehyung’s starting to think that you’ve been in a longer relationship with jungkook than him in one, so he thinks that he should be the one taking notes from you

“can i, uhm, ask how did you know?”

you don’t mind swallowing your pride because you already know you can’t bullshit your way out of this one, a timid look on your lap

sheesh

tae’s pride seems to swell up because his suspicion’s right just by oNE singular try

“because i’m rich kid kim :) don’t you know that?”

see now this is only one of the few times that he’d gladly take his title

rich kid kim was coined by the courtesy of changbin, his girlfriend’s friend :/

it just seemed to STICK on everyone else after then

changbin was the first to narrate his actions like he’s the lead star of a poorly-produced netflix film

what’s wrong with rich kid kim? is his greeting every time he crosses paths with changbin

he was just pissy that oNE time!! it was ONE time

taehyung thinks of the whole jungkook situation and relates it to him as much as possible because ya know,,, he is the main star and koo’s just a second lead

ok changbin’s netflix narrations are really rubbing off on him

“think of jeon jungkook as an elitist that everyone wants to be close with, and yet he actually looks like one of the good guys — like me — and he looks like he wants to shoot himself in the foot when he gets offered caviar oNE more time, and then you’re like uh, the comic relief???”

he spews his interpretation all in one breath effortlessly and you’re just blinking slowly to try and digest it all

it’s oddly too specific

hol up now why does it sound like he’s been actually waiting for you to ask him that

HOLD ON YOU’RE THE COMIC RELIEF???

“a clowN?” is what you react first and tae can’t believe that that’s the only thing you picked up from his perfectly sound analogy

“uhhhh like a bartender? a waitress? someone that isn’t a socialite,” he shrugs as he tries to make amends, remembering that the last time he went to a rich kid kim party, no one was technically in pennywise shoes nor juggling bowling pins

“are you trying to insult me tae?”

:((

yIKES are u gonna cry

“what?? no!! no!!” he launches from his seat as if he was falling and that catches him a couple of glances from rich kid kim loyalists (there’s a lot of things he’s unaware of), about to punch the floor if only their lord and savior didn’t take it in stride, “i’m not trying to insult you, but it’s how you take it, y’know?”

his nonchalance puts you on the edge even more, launching from your seat and uh you don’t exactly have any concerned fanbase there to worry for you

“so i sHOULD?? tae you’re basically saying that-”

alright that’s it

he needs to actually get through you this time because more often that not, you are so fucking stubborn that it beats him

he glares at you, eyes looking comically large and pissy as he’s stopped in the middle of slurping from his cup noodles to talk some sense into you

it feels like an eternity until he finishes his noodles and you were almost tempted to just eat the remaining portion to fasten his pace

“in rich kid kim terms, or reality y/n terms?”

you’re almost too scared to answer but you already do before you can even process, raising two fingers

and for a moment, you think tae’s actually gonna go easy on you!

whew you definitely aren’t prepared if-

“do you come out together by the main door? or from the back?”

your eyes are as large as they could possibly be and if you stay in that same shocked and taken-aback state, you’d need to look for those creams with how much your eyebrows and your forehead are creased

u-uh well now that i think about it-...” okay maybe you and jungkook don’t come into uni by any of the several hundred main entrances at all, but that doesn’t mean-

“does he hold your hand? carry your backpack? doesn’t matter if you have a dumbbell in there or not, does he carry it?” tae lists item after item, racking through his mind as these were also all the things he does, and all the things he’s picked up from everyone

“does he bring your water? lend his hoodie when you’re not even sniffling? pick a fight when someone even looks at you the wrong way? read something relatively romantic in english lit, then text you about it? brag about you to his friends? does he-...”

...

....

okay

you are awfully too silent for even your nature

tae was blissfully obvious just two seconds ago when he was enumerating boyfriend traits (that he himself exhibited, excuse you) left and right

then he started to realize that you weren’t stuttering nor interjecting on the side

he’s :O when you’re standing up from your seat, straightening out your hoodie, one that isn’t jungkook’s, that you’ve been anxiously wrinkling for the past ten minutes

“excuse me, tae. i have uh.. i have a lot to think about.”

everything he’s said made a solid number on you because not even distracting yourself becomes successful

not even your mini fixation on gouache helped you because so far it really sucks

it’s become a routine of jungkook to come over to your apartment almost everyday that it practically feels he’s living with you

he knows where you keep your milk and how cold you want the AC to blast and how you organize your groceries

and yet jungkook can’t-

“koo do you love me?”

it’s a question that was sprung so suddenly because come to think of it, you’re knitting and jungkook’s head is buried in your thighs while he tries to take a nap

he doesn’t bother trying to figure out your thought process because it’s a question that’s so simple that it seemed trivial

jungkook’s a dream when he nods and hums to your thighs, making you tread your hands on his hair instead of your roll of yarn

“mhmmm. more than life itself.”

he loves loves you!!! he doesn’t even know why you’re asking

“okay,” you hum back, crouching down to press a kiss on his nape that he appreciates because he’s a little ticklish on that spot, “hold my hand tomorrow then.”

:-)

jungkook launches from his position on your thighs, sitting up immediately that it’s gotten him dizzy

“... w-what?”

oh boy here it goes

you don’t feel like dancing around this issue anymore because after all, you do have the right to stick your finger in this!!

he’s your boyfriend i mean like what’s not clicking

“it’s not that big of a deal, jungkook. it’s not like i asked you to propose to me or something.”

his eyes widen more at that, his cheeks puffing out and it makes you realize that taehyung was right and it dOES look like he’s hiding a goldfish in there sometimes

you try to bite back a laugh at that but jungkook is devoid from any entertainment at all, looking like you just asked him to pick between you and the universe

“you uh want me to propose??”

he has his hand awkwardly caressing his nape and his cheeks flush as he’s trying to process things

yeah he DOES love you and he’ll marry you eventually but you’re doing this now!!! as in now??

how’s your wedding gonna work? god, can the two of you decide on the menu for your reception? does this mean your aunts and his aunts would mee?? no no that could not possibly be-

“you don’t need to,” you sheepishly mumble and you’re not gonna deny that marrying jungkook did cross your mind every once in awhile

you aren’t against it but marriage is not the issue at hand!! it’s just about him hOLDING your hand tomorrow and not forever now

“so you don’t want me to?”

...... christ where is this going to

there’s palpable tension in the air and you just feel like giving up, sinking further into the couch and koo’s reading TOO much into it

what if you slouching on the couch means you’re breaking up with him and you wouldn’t marry him even if he was the last person alive

“if you aren’t ashamed of me, or if you don’t feel like dYING when i’m five feet away from you and your jock friends-“

“lovie i-“

your ringless hand raises and prompts him to shut up, palms a little sweaty and fingers tired from stress-knitting

“then hold my hand. tomorrow. please.”

:-)

okay fine then

last night wasn’t exactly the best experience because you felt a little too distant even if he was enveloping you into his arms

last night, kook didn’t even dare to try and press mischievous kisses from your jaw to your shoulder because you felt untouchable with how wringed you were

then he had breakfast by himself much earlier and had to practically sHAKE you awake to whisper that he’s gonna leave earlier because he has a plan, and then proceeds to tell you to act as if you didn’t know that he has a plan, then go back to sleep and forget altogether that this literal rude awakening even happened

if you ask him, he is wearing the most boyfriend fit ever in this entire universe

which is uh his regular outfit of a fit shirt and a cool-looking jacket with chunk boots thrown on top of it

BUT!!!!

hear him out ok

he’s wearing a bracelet

uh huh

a bracelet...... that has the iNITIAL of your name

yuh how romantic is that

man both hallmark and netflix must be bankrupt because of jeon jungkook!! he’s sure of it

he just knows

the big deal of it all is jungkook waiting for you by the stairs, bouncing on heels out of displaced nervous energy because he’s too jittery to just coolly lean against the wall

“kook?”

you’re tilting your head at the sight, a little lost but more on fond as he smiles squarely

“y/n! it’s uh, it’s you! wow!!”

he exclaims but not without tucking his hands into his pockets and non-discreetly looking around your surrounding before he deems it clear enough, which is what you still find useless for him to even do it!!

the whole point of this is to not care!!

he’s gingerly placing himself beside you and although it’s not exactly what you asked for, it makes you sigh a breath of relief because it’s been tOO long that you’ve been next to him in this public atmosphere

he’s not exactly far, but he isn’t exactly bumping shoulders with you either

there are some glances alright

jungkook has a loose grip on you but you could fEEL how his hand is so sweaty

he’s just looking at the floor and he allows you to guide him because if not for you, he would’ve been bumping into both lockers and people non-stop

u actually have first period together but you typically sit rowS away but now he’s just sitting on the chair right above yours

he isn’t next to you but he’s literally above you, so maybe you’ll take it

you can’t exactly text taehyung how it’s going because he could see everything from where he’s seated at

this was supposed to be an enjoyable time :(

a nice, giggly, warm enjoyable time with jungkook

but being this unrestricted meant him being so rigid that quite frankly, you’ve grown sick and wary of it in less than an hour

you’re making your way to the library and jungkook’s sTILL following you when you were sure he wouldn’t have

and if you ask him, he doesn’t know either why he followed you

he jus did it without thinking even if it meant him taking quick steps behind you with his head down

he doesn’t know why you’re here and he feels a little guilty that he should know it if this was already a part off your routine

but this time, jungkook can’t look at you because this time, you’re the one who’s unreachable

who kNOWS what your empty stare could possibly mean

“we don’t have to do this anymore, y’know.”

that’s the quickest way to conclude it, nodding to yourself surely

meanwhile, jungkook is a millisecond away from a goddamn mELTDOWN

“w-what do you mean?”

“this!” you genuinely chuckle and even wiggle your hands around to make a point

he swears to god rn that he is gonna BLUBBER

“a-are you breaking up with me right now?”

his voice is already cracking and it reminds him that oh, yeah, the two of you are in the library and he’s about to cRY

you’re gasping when you take his trembling hand and jungkook wants to snatch it back and beg you to hold it tighter at the same time

oh no :-)

“it’s okay. i don’t mind anymore. and what, we’re gonna graduate like a year from now! doesn’t matter anymore.”

but wait it SHOULD matter

he’s gonna cry oh god oh god he’s gonna-

“you don’t need to change for me.”

:((

so that’s what

jungkook cries and it’s from relief that no, you aren’t breaking up with him

“o-okay,” he nods as he wipes his own tears that are blurring his vision and there’s sO much that he actually worries if it would budge his contacts

he just wants a hug from you to console him like you always do

but instead, you look around, settle on tapping his chin, then standing up

“cheer up. i’m gonna go eat lunch with felix.”

and then yOU’RE the one leaving him

quick

does he really look like a red-nosed, bleary-eyes, puffy-lipped mess??

say sike rn lads

jungkook clearly doesn’t look the best and he doesn’t exactly know what he was doing when he came out of the library and marched over to hang out with his friends like he always did

but something’s just different

he looks like someone whose world turned upon him and has nothing left to himself

surprisingly, it’s not hobi who’s the only one thinking of that

his friends are all ????

“y’okay man??”

namjoon’s the first to break the silence and everyone sighs because they were all holding a breath just by looking at jungkook’s distraught state

“yeah! just, uh, just —“

he’s back to being preppy in an instant but he can’t establish eye contact, swinging his arms by his sides and looking around just to look natural and gOD IS THAT YOU??

you’re you

you’re there, walking with felix and your backpack on hIS shoulder

.,., the same backpack that he’s bought you one birthday ago, on tHIS dude’s shoulder strewn as if he didn’t panic in between which variant should he buy for you

you look blissfully unaware that he’s cried himself just by thinking about you and your words and lack of actions just awhile ago

“nothing.”

jungkook grits out and suddenly, he isn’t sad anymore :D

just uh

just a lil frustrated :D agitated :D or maybe feeling a little inadequate and outraged :D

this other mini breakdown going on his head doesn’t go unnoticed because here he is, so close to injuring his fist with how tight he’s clenching it

the guys, however.,.,

seokjin whistles and goes as far to squint his eyes intentionally that he looked like a distraught chihuahua, immediately grabbing jungkook’s actions as he nods his head to your direction

“y/n, right?”

jungkook froze and everyone is just waiting on him, mouths a little parted because they’ve caught on jin’s little plan and somehow, he might’ve struck a chord sO hard that-

“keep your fucking dick in your pants, seokjin.”

WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH

everyone’s reacting to his seething like a flock of seagulls to a piece of bread

yeah they’ve seen the youngest of their group mad, but not tHIS type of mad that he looks like he would’ve hit his hyung with a skillet upright if he had one onhand

everyone’s visibly offended besides seokjin, the man mentioned just amusedly shrugging his shoulders with a dimpled smile that unintentionally provoked jungkook even more

“told you,” yoongi gives up his last batch of cookies to namjoon, a long-winded bet finally coming to an end because of what was only supposed to be a harmless question by jin

“if y/n was your girlfriend, you could’ve just said so!!”

jin ruffles his hair and it doesn’t exactly take a genius to see how he cares for you!!

jungkook looks out for you in ways he couldn’t even notice doing

he always had two umbrellas in his backpack and when it was raining, he’d leave one on purpose by the front of this specific locker

hoseok actually borrowed an eraser without permission from kook once, but then he found a combination of tampons n napkins that he grimaced because what :// those aren’t even the good brands!! he has a sister and now has a handful of knowledge about monthly visits, so he takes note to talk to jungkook about it some time

there’s even an extra sweater in his backpack that always remains unotuched

one time, jimin complained that he was cold and turned to jungkook, full-well knowing that the fucker had oNE more sweater tucked in his bag, who just plains-out ignore him and even tch!s him under his breath

they somehow had a clue all along and now that jungkook realizes, he may be a little dENSE

OH RIGHT

WHY WOULD HE HAVE KEPT YOU HIDDEN

that’s entirely stoopid of him

what was the reason lmao

this time, jungkook’s more than eager to make it up to you

eVEN if you’ve insisted that nothing was wrong!!

it was just the last day before christmas break so it went by considerably fast-paced because even the professors were a little antsy to come home!!

that didn’t stop him, because clearly, jungkook holds your hand tight this time and he’s looking straight ahead

he looks proud

he feels natural and giggly the whole day that you couldn’t stop either because it’s a complete 360 from yesterday

wouldn’t absolutely stop holding your hand and following you

even kisses the top of your head like a kitten repeatedly

eVEN SAT IN A CLASS HE DIDN’T HAVE TO BE WITH YOU

something’s up with jungkook alright

the two of you are back again on the couch — you knitting, and him buried and napping on your thighs

it’s a bit of a shock when he grabs your hand all of a sudden, a half-sleepy and full-on dreamy look on his face when he’s looking up at you from being laid down on your lap

a red silicone band :D

you’re still speechless when he’s sliding it on your ring finger, admittedly getting the wrong finger the first time which is why he’s sheepish and holding back a giggle

“jungkook....?”

unsurprisingly, it looks good on you

he seems to think so himself when he’s giving you another one, holding his hand out and you’re doing the same without even an explanation present

“it’s a placeholder :)”

a placeholder?? hold on ur heart is a lil fragile

your eyes widen and your lips downturn on instinct, making him giggle as he smushes your cheeks to just let him explain

“all this marriage talk just had me thinking-”

“are you PROPOSING right now??”

both the mix of panic and excitement stains you clearly, mouth dropping open as you try to fumble for atleast something to wipe your face with

hee-hee

“maybe i am, maybe i’m not :)”

jungkook’s such a romantic it’s SICKENING

his mind drifts off and you can’t blame him!!

his family’s well-off so maybe he could cash in his next ten birthdays for a loan or maybe even a house to help ease the two of you in

maybe the two of you could even build it from the ground up

the two of you could also move into this nice apartment after graduation!! he’s been eyeing it for quite awhile actually

“you wanna get married early?”

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t :D”

jungkook’s faux nonchalance makes you grin yourself, the both of you knowing what answer he’d yield anyway

“as long as it’s you,” you declare surely, bending down to press a kiss on his nose that tickles him and makes his heart full

“as long as it’s me?”

jungkook smiles cheekily at your statement pressing kisses on the top of your thighs that’s got you fumbling at him to just embrace you immediately

he’s a little bulky with all the muscles he’s gained and worked on, a little pressured when he’s sitting on your lap upright and won’t absolutely stop kissing you sweetly

“you should start on knitting your wedding garter now :D”

#feedback pls and thank u :D hAPPY CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jock!jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic recs

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shuttershocky · 3 years

Note

"Deathless Black Snake...Are you afraid?" - In which we see why Terra's greatest champion wanted to crush a fourteen year old's skull. Unholy fuck.

What I've always loved about Amiya is that Arknights never leaned too hard on either babby or Kid-in-bio-only hypercompetent adult typing. While I'm very soft on small and cute baby characters (and conversely not a fan of characters being aged 14 but looking and acting like they're 28), Amiya being an actual leader with a startling amount of emotional intelligence while also still being a literal child is what makes the her narrative so effective.

Of course she's professional, of course she's actually able to manage a company and even lead a squad through a warzone, her superpower is literally empathy. Communication and understanding is her forte. She's able to think beyond just herself in a way no normal teenager can because her mind is constantly receiving information about people's feelings, and sometimes even their memories. She can negotiate with politicians, manage a company with hundreds of employees, and even lead squads of soldiers against an enemy—all because she is able to discern what the other party wants, how they would react to various emotional stimuli, and how much they are willing to compromise. With ceaseless social and leadership training from Kal'tsit, it was practically impossible for Amiya NOT to be the best of the best at her job.

At the same time though, every other scene is a reminder that she's too young to have even hit her growth spurt. She's shorter than most of the cast, small enough that Blaze sometimes picks her up and throws her into the air like a parent with a baby. She hates being treated like a child instead of an adult, yet she drops her sophisticated airs and diction and talks like a little kid when it's just her with the Doctor and Kal'tsit. She even has trouble dropping formal honorifics when asked to simply because everyone's older than her and she does it on instinct.

That's why when the story contrasts her idealism with the shocking reveals of who she is, who she represents, it never feels jarring. We always see her juggling both her professional self with her child self, so when we see her childlike optimism—her belief in a better world where everyone can understand each other as well as she can understand them—be pit against her identity as the Lord of Fiends—king of an oppressed and bitter people, prophesied to finally unleash their vengeance upon the world—it works narratively. I'm not left feeling like there's a wild tonal shift or that they don't know what they want to do with Amiya. I know exactly what they want to do: create some good ol' tragedy by heaping the world on to a little girl that you know can handle it, but really, really shouldn't have to.

I love this scene because as much of a big hero moment it is to confront a godlike evil and create a sword made from magic, this isn't right. Neither Kal'tsit nor Doctor are there, and while Amiya synchronizes with Ch'en in order to copy her sword and techniques, she still has to channel a specific emotion in order to complete the process. What she decides to use in the end is grief.

Her mind flashes through several memories, before retrieving the memories of a Sarkaz warrior from long ago, raging at the injustice and oppression his people suffered for no reason other than being born Sarkaz. The warrior howls and curses at the world, but it isn't hatred coursing through his veins; grief is. Agonizing, maddening grief. The Sarkaz warrior then takes up their sword, (which is the part of the memory that likely allows Amiya to form Ch'en's Chi Xiao in her mind), then strikes down all the oathbreakers who had destroyed the peace. Then, the Sarkaz Warrior kills himself, and Amiya creates the sword from rage, finally showing what Kal'tsit meant when she said "Amiya experiences an unbelievable amount of trauma, far too much for a single person to bear."

That's fucking horrifying.

At the very start of Chapter 8, Amiya is offended by an operator calling Rosmontis "Rhodes Island's greatest weapon", because weapons are just tools made for the sole purpose of hurting others. They cannot think for themselves, they cannot be made to understand others, they cannot feel the pain that comes with hurting someone else. Amiya tells Kal'tsit "I am not a weapon", because no matter how dangerous her powers may be, she is not a tool to hurt someone. She will never act with the intention of hurting anyone. She is the leader of a mobile hospital, and that person should never have the mentality that their being is a weapon.

Some distance away however, Kal'tsit has this conversation with the Doctor. "No matter the motive, what we are doing is doing harm." You can't avoid hurting someone during conflict. You can't be a neutral party in a time of war.

Amiya knows this. She's fought before. She's killed before. But nothing really makes it hit home quite like seeing how she uses her powers.

Yes, it's an Emiya moment. Confronting an undying being that caused so much suffering and survives through the hatred of all peoples, Amiya reaches into her own rage and pulls out a sword. No one is there to help her but the woman she's synchronizing with. You cannot ask for a better time to become a hero of justice.

It's also a great tragedy.

She is a child. She is an idealist. She is a negotiator. She believes that people can be made to understand each other, that violence can become a thing of the past.

She is not a weapon.

But a sword only does one thing.

185 notes · View notes

yslkook · 3 years

Text

red card - on the defensive (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader (soccer captain jjk) summary: you and jungkook run in the same circles, and yet after three years, he struggles to get your time of day. you think he’s cocky and he’s going to change your mind. word count: 5.1k warnings: cursing, alcohol/drinking (lots of it), suggestive content a/n: this story is for @cutechim, it went down in the DM’s and came to life. this is my entry into the blond jk foray!! enjoy<3

red card masterlist

“What should we drink?” Hana shouts over the music to you in the crowd.

“Uh… let’s do jagerbombs,” You shout back, even though you’re both relatively close to each other at the bar. You peer behind you at the group of people you’ve congregated with this afternoon, counting a total of four.

“Can I have… eight jagerbombs?” You request of the bartender, who raises his eyebrow at you.

“Why am I not surprised,” He says with a roll of his eyes, “You’re all gonna run me dry of my jager.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time it happened,” You mutter. And you’re right- it’s happened at least twice over this summer, when you and your friends made a weekly appearance to this bar. The bartender knows you and Hana by your faces at this point and you’ve jokingly asked why your usual order of jagerbombs or tequila shots aren’t ready upon arrival.

These weekly occurrences were sponsored by your job at a law firm near your university. And by sponsored, you mean that your bank account takes a minor hit on a weekly basis. Since university had let out, you’d made yourself available for as many hours as possible- after all, you needed a way to fund these days and nights out.

While juggling a summer class three days a week for three hours each day.

But you weren’t completely financially irresponsible- you drew the line… eventually. Certainly not after eight jagerbombs though (you’d stopped questioning how you could easily drop that much money on alcohol these days). At least it's summer happy hour and you’re not paying full price.

Besides, you and your friends rotate rounds. Hana will get the next one, and then one of the guys, and so on and so forth. You’d gotten two extra specially for you and Hana, but nobody needed to know that.

You love these summer days, when it’s nothing but you and your friends enjoying the breeze and the vibes of a fun afternoon (that inevitably leads to a night of more recklessness). Nothing can take the tipsy grin off of your face or the arm looped around your best friend’s shoulders, except-

Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. You don’t mind Jimin as much (mostly because of Hana, who’s been harboring a not so secret crush that is definitely bordering more on love than a simple crush on him for who knew how long). But still, when all three of them are together, you make your disdain very known and obvious. At least you think you do.

Some of the star players from your university’s soccer team, and the captain himself, Jeon Jungkook. They walk into the crowded, noisy bar as if they own the place and you can already see heads turning. You roll your eyes and tell Hana to get it together when she starts giggling and waving at Jimin.

Your eyes seem to meet the back of your skull when all three of them saunter over towards you and your friends. It’s not that you have anything against them per se, it’s that you find them as a unit quite annoying and you know of their reputations. Or, you think you know of their reputations. Maybe you’re a little judgmental. But who cares, it’s not any of their business.

Most of your perhaps misplaced vitriol is reserved for Jungkook himself and the few interactions that you’ve had over the last almost four years of being in university together. You’ve had a few general ed classes with him freshman year, but after that most of your interactions were solely at parties and any excuse to celebrate. You had mutual friends (somehow) so it was inevitable that you saw him as much as you did.

Every fiber of him annoyed you- he was cocky and arrogant… Everything you intensely disliked in a person. Hana told you that you were being mean and judgmental (not as nicely), but if it meant not dealing with this boy who got a rise out of you for no reason, then it didn’t matter. Of course, he doesn’t take up space in your mind very often. Only when you have the misfortune of running into him.

You didn’t know him, and truly, you didn’t care to. You’ll remain civil though, only if he doesn’t annoy you. Which you doubt will happen.

Jungkook can sense your iciness towards him and his friends from half a mile away, from across the bar. And the bar itself is pretty big, with an outdoor area and an outdoor dance floor, and two bars inside with tables and booths and a dance floor. Despite the space of the bar, it’s crowded with college students, young professionals, and even older corporate workers who look like they work relatively close to the bar. He knows you and your friends come here often, and if that was why he had suggested to Jimin and Tae that they also come here then that was his business.

He swallows (not nervously). You look so pretty when you laugh, he thinks. He thinks you look pretty all the time, though. He lets his eyes wander to your tight black crop top shirt with cherries printed on it and your high waisted denim shorts. Jungkook’s throat goes a little dry when his gaze reaches your thighs, but he keeps it together somehow. He doesn’t know how, considering how nice that outfit makes your tits look.

“Hey Cherries,” Jungkook says smoothly, “Flattered you got this for me.” And he plucks the jagerbomb that you paid for for yourself and downs it in less than three seconds.

Your jaw drops. The audacity of this boy.

“First of all,” You narrow your eyes, “Who the fuck is a ‘Cherries’. And second of all, I know you didn’t just drink the drink that I paid for. Right in front of my fuckin’ face.”

“That’s a funny way of asking me to buy you a drink, Cherries,” Jungkook grins, and gazes at your chest for a second too long. You roll your eyes and swat his arm.

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. I’ll have a tequila shot, pretty boy,” You smirk at him and he smirks right back at you.

“I like a girl who knows what she wants,” Jungkook attempts, only for you to scoff.

“Congratulations,” You say flatly, “You’re lucky I’m not subjecting you to getting me two tequila shots for having to hear that line.”

“You don’t like my lines?” He’s pouty and his eyes are wide, mischief sparkling in them. You dare to think that he’s cute. Apparently all of the boys had dyed their hair blond this summer before the soccer season began and you must admit that it suits him. His hair falls over his forehead effortlessly, small hoops dangling from his ears as he smiles at you.

“Does anyone? Do your groupies?”

“Maybe I’m a little rusty…”

“Oh, I doubt that, Jungkook.”

“Well, you notice whether I have groupies or not, so maybe I’m not so rusty, Cherries,” Jungkook winks at you and you’re tempted to toss your drink at him. But that’s a precious waste of alcohol and perhaps you’re a little dramatic.

You only groan and accept the tequila shot, quickly licking your hand to place salt on and taking a wedge of lime.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks after doing the same.

“How lucky for me, that I get to do shots with our star quarterback,” You say flatly.

“That’s football, Cherries. I play soccer.”

“And I don’t care. Now, take this shot with me.”

As the afternoon blends into evening, you witness betrayal in front of your very eyes in the form of Hana inviting Jimin and his friends with you to the next bar. The ultimate betrayal.

But really, you’ve heard about those soccer boys. At least you think you have. Perhaps you know everything. Perhaps you know nothing at all.

And so the three boys follow you to the next bar as the night goes on. Nearly everyone was at least tipsy by this point, as you had all done a handful of shots following the boys’ arrival at the first bar.

You find yourself thinking that they’re not so bad, when they make you and your friends laugh easily and when being around them feels… fun.

It’s easy to blame on the alcohol and the darkness of the crowded bar. It seems like everyone is out and about, the streets filled with college students and young professionals looking to unwind and let off some steam.

You love the feeling of the music pumping through your veins, along with the swirl of alcohol. You’re not ashamed of enjoying a drink (or several) and having a good time.

Even if it almost always results in you crossing the line and being hungover the next day.

“Wanna do shots,” You suggest to your circle of friends, eyes landing on Jungkook without you meaning to. Maybe it’s a hidden challenge and he raises his eyebrows.

“Again?” Jungkook says incredulously.

“Don’t be surprised,” Jimin mutters under his breath to Jungkook, “She’s kinda crazy.”

“I’ll take that as a yes… six shots then?” You say cheerily, ignoring Jungkook’s groan. You vaguely recall that Taehyung doesn’t really drink. How considerate of you.

Hana’s arm is slung around your shoulders, a bright (drunken) smile on her face as you pass shots behind you.

The following week, on your usual day of happy hour drinking, Hana presents you with a proposition that has you gasping and gagging, nearly writhing on the floor.

“No, for your information, I do not want to pregame at the soccer house. Thanks for asking, try again later,” You say definitively, pouring Hana a drink.

“Jimin invited us! I wanna see him,” Hana complains and pouts at you, “He said they got good alcohol for the pregame-”

“Jimin invited you, because you both like each other or whatever,” You roll your eyes, “I’m content to drink here alone-”

“We both know you’ll fall asleep if I leave you alone,” Hana says flatly, “Besides, Jungkook asked if you were coming.”

“And what do I care if Jungkook asked if I was coming?” You scoff, taking a long swig of the strong drink in your red solo cup. You cringe.

“He specifically asked if Cherries was coming,” Hana says with a near maniacal grin, “Pretend all you want that you don’t like that shit. Now go wear that top with cherries on it that makes your tits look nice. Quit being difficult.”

In the end, you end up walking the four blocks to the soccer house and you wear the baby pink long sleeved crop top with cherries on it and denim shorts, much to your chagrin (and to Hana’s delight). You’ve only been here a handful of times (maybe two or three) as a freshman for parties and hadn’t been back since.

Everyone knew the soccer house was the place to party to get shitfaced. Usually, the sophomore and junior year soccer players lived in the house while senior year players moved off campus.

You don’t know who currently lives at the house, but Hana quickly fills you in. Apparently Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook lived together off campus (because of course they did).

The soccer house has been part of the campus lore for years. Allegedly, all of the craziest, most reckless things happened at the soccer house and all of the best parties were there. You and Hana never felt that way freshman and sophomore year, instead opting to party hop at the frat houses rather than the sports houses.

How the tables have turned.

“You made it!” Jimin exclaims, outstretching his arms for a hug from you. Which you (awkwardly) return. You need more alcohol to be here, you think.

“Yeah, only ‘cause Hana told me you guys got the good shit,” You say flatly. Taehyung passes a cup of something and you eye it suspiciously but ultimately take a swig of it.

“Pretty good, Tae,” You say, raising your cup to him.

“Oh, I didn’t make that. I’m only the messenger,” Taehyung shrugs with a sly grin, “Jungkook over there did.”

You turn your head, only to find Jungkook staring back at you, lips upturned in a playful grin. It makes you roll your eyes, as most of his antics do.

“Hey, Cherries,” Jungkook greets, standing next to you after a few long strides, “It only took Jimin asking you once to come here, huh? I should be offended, considering how many times I’ve asked you-”

“And when have you ever asked me to party here, Jungkook?”

He only gives you a small smile, almost shy, and it’s a stark contrast from the generally cocky aura that hangs around him. “You just don’t remember.”

You frown a little, wondering what that means. But he gives you another broad smile quickly, shaking you from your reverie. Jungkook leaves you to your devices, being pulled away by some of the younger soccer guys that you hardly recognize. Freshmen? Sophomores, maybe? They look at Jungkook and the older guys with a playful sort of reverence- it’s clear that the team is close even off of the field.

You briefly wonder what that’s like- having a group of friends like that. Hana’s always been the nicer, more outgoing one out of you both. She’s always made friends easily, with her sweet and genuine smiles. And then there’s you- you struggle to open up to others, always greeting anyone with the sting of sarcasm and holding people at arm’s length.

Sometimes, very rarely, you wonder how you and Hana mesh well together. When she could have a big group of great friends, you used to wonder if you hold her back somehow. It was stupid, and the first time you voiced your insecurity to Hana, she had smacked you upside the head and told you that you were stuck with her.

But still. You can’t help but feel burdensome sometimes. Maybe like you’re too much. Maybe not enough.

Hana pulls you out of your thoughts easily, an arm around your shoulder as she pulls you into conversation with Jimin and a few other girls.

You down about half the cup of whatever concoction Jungkook whipped up for you and tried to immerse yourself in conversation. There’s a new girl here that you don’t recognize, Sunmi. She’s a transfer and the last thing you want is for her to feel left out. So you make sure to include her in the conversation and ask her questions, too.

Jungkook is not surprised that you don’t remember how many times he’s asked you to come party at the soccer house. Granted, it’s only been a handful of times over the last three years and change. It’s not like you were a stranger- he’s known you through a few mutual classes through the years, and through Jimin, too. After all, Jimin and your best friend have had this weird on and off, together but not together thing going on since the summer before sophomore year.

Maybe one of these days, they’ll get it together. Jungkook loves Hana for Jimin and vice versa- he’s never seen either smile as much as they do around each other. If only they would just admit how much they like (love) each other and put everyone around them out of their misery.

Jungkook thinks it’s a little romantic. Being so in love with someone that labels aren’t needed. There’s something poetic about that.

But Jungkook doesn’t know why you act like you don’t know him at all. You always greet him with a near frown or a roll of your shining eyes.

He doesn’t understand but he pays it no mind, instead turning his focus to the pretty woman eyeing him from the other side of the bar with her friends.

(She’s not you, but it doesn’t matter. Jungkook pushes you to the back of his mind, instead choosing to focus on the velvet heat of the woman in his bed later that night.)

With your shift at the law firm starting at 9 AM the following morning, you decide to remain relatively sober for the night (you enjoy a good time, but you try to draw the line when you can. Though there have been times when you’ve gone to work hungover or possibly even still intoxicated. It happens every so often. You’ve never claimed to be the paradigm of a working college student.)

But also, you don’t really feel like being out tonight to begin with. You do enjoy nights like this, but you also enjoy your quiet time. And it seems like this is one of those nights.

At least someone’s having fun, you think dryly, your eyes glossing over Jimin and Hana. You do think they’d be a great match- if only either of them would make it official. This dance that they’ve been doing for years frustrates you and Hana knows it. You’ve voiced it to her many times but she always says it’s not the right time.

It makes you roll your eyes. You briefly wondered if you should host an intervention and scold Jimin for taking too long- after all, if they kept playing games like this then who’s to say one of them wouldn’t move on? But it seems like they both always gravitate to each other no matter what.

He rotates around her axis and she rotates around his. It’s sweet but Jimin still puts a sour taste in your mouth for a reason that you can’t verbalize into words.

Maybe it’s the company he keeps.

The music is loud in your ears as you dance with your group of friends, two of them in an impromptu dance off that you inevitably get dragged into. You sling your arm around Sunmi and nudge hips with her, getting her to come out of her shell a little bit and dance with her on the dance floor. She sings to the same songs as you do and gives you a bright, happy smile that you can’t help but return.

You buy a round of beers for your friends before the first yawn comes, not even at 1 AM. Hana looks at you quizzically.

You keep checking your phone for the time. Which in itself is pretty out of character for you. But you just need a recharge before the next outing…..

But you suck it up, not wanting to leave Sunmi by herself. You fight through your yawns and nurse your beer, twirling and swirling around with Sunmi.

And then you start to get hungry. Damn, you could go for some tacos right now.

“Hey,” Sunmi shouts over the music, “Wanna get food?”

“Wow, you read my mind,” You grin and chug your beer quickly. You and Sunmi both settle on the bar across the street (with the best tacos). You turn to find your friends and let them know that you’re heading across the street. Jimin and Hana both nod eagerly, Taehyung does, too.

You debate if you should ask Jungkook if he wants food- after all, it looks like he’s busy with a girl currently sending him sultry heart eyes.

“Hey, we’re going to get food. Wanna come?” You ask, “You, too.” You look at the pretty girl who looks familiar. She probably attends the same university as you and your friends.

Jungkook’s ears perk up at the mention of food, even with the girl currently standing in between his legs. She looks wary for a minute and before you can reassure her, Jungkook speaks up.

“Sure. I could go for some tacos,” Jungkook says, “Let’s get some tacos, Nari.”

“Are you sure, I mean I don’t want to impose. We can catch up later, Kook,” Nari says unsurely.

Jungkook will admit, this feels weird for a reason that he can’t place. The girl he’s trying to hook up with for the night getting tacos with the girl he might have a slight crush on.

Weird. But still, there’s no harm in just having tacos.

“Trust me, you’re not imposing, Nari. I barely even like this guy,” You joke, “I’m just a big proponent of tacos and tacos should never be eaten alone. Tell your friends too, if they wanna come.”

“Hey!”

You ignore Jungkook to reassure Nari and give her a bright smile. Nari looks at you, and then Jungkook before nodding slowly and returning your smile.

Jungkook walks Nari out with a hand at the small of her back, something you don’t miss as you chat away with Nari about anything and everything.

You even shoot Jungkook a wink when Nari isn’t looking. He groans internally- how poetic. His current crush giving him the approval of his hook up for the night (Nari knew what the deal was).

How incredibly awkward. Jungkook is capable of many things, always adapting to situations. But this is a new one and when Jimin and Taehyung catch his eye at the taco shop, they both give him a derisive smile.

Jungkook can only groan internally and eat his tacos.

Today’s Wednesday night is uneventful- Hana is with Jimin for the evening and they are likely going out with some friends. You had opted out, as you had an early shift at the law firm tomorrow morning. You’ve gone out the night before early shifts and early classes and more than half the time, you regret it the next day.

Does it mean you’ll stop those habits any time soon? Stay tuned.

But today, you just feel tired from a particularly long, difficult morning of class and your half shift that you worked until five PM. You hadn’t felt like cooking dinner (you had taken leftovers to work for lunch) and by the time you finished your homework for your natural language processing class, it was past 9 PM and your stomach was rumbling loudly.

You’ve been craving noodles, dumplings and chicken. So you place an order at the nearby restaurant by your apartment and order some extra for Hana for later or for tomorrow.

It’s only a fifteen minute walk from your apartment to the shop, and you plug your headphones in to begin your walk.

You sway on the heels of your feet as you wait for your food, saying hello to the couple who owns the small restaurant. They know you by face, from how many times you’ve been here. Your favorite comfort food (besides homemade food made by your parents) exists here. Your favorite aromas exist here and even just the smell of noodles and chicken has your tummy rumbling.

“I thought you would’ve been out,” A voice comes from your right side, “It’s the week before classes start.”

You turn your head at the voice, heart startling a bit. What in the world is Jungkook doing at your secret but not so secret restaurant?

“I could say the same for you,” You remark with a raise of your eyebrow, “I heard Jimin and Tae went out.”

You vaguely wonder if he’s still hooking up with Nari but decide it’s not your business to ask.

“Ah, well… I have work tomorrow,” Jungkook shrugs.

“Me too, they want me in at 7:30 tomorrow,” You complain, “What do I look like? A cog in the wheel that is capitalism?”

“Don’t we all?” Jungkook snorts.

“I didn’t realize you were working this summer, too. Thought you were just doing whatever soccer captains do,” You mutter, picking up your order off of the countertop.

“And what do soccer captains do, Cherries?”

“I dunno. Score touchdowns or whatever,” You shrug and laugh at the pained expression on Jungkook’s face, “And stop calling me that, Jungkook.”

“Whatever, Cherries. I’ve been working at this architecture firm as an intern. Figured it would help with post grad.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that was your major…”

“You definitely did, I’m pretty sure I’ve told you.”

“When-” You shake your head, not wanting to argue with him, “That’s cool. I’m working at a law firm, it’s about a fifteen minute bus ride from my apartment.”

“You wanna study law? Makes sense, because you always wanna argue with me-”

“No, I don’t really know if I want to go to grad school,” You trail off, “Hey! I don’t always argue with you!”

“You’re arguing now,” He says smugly, crossing his hands across his broad chest that you definitely do not ogle at.

“Whatever, Jungkook,” You roll your eyes, “You here for classes or anything?”

“Nah, not this summer. Just work and soccer,” Jungkook replies, “Gives me lots of time for other things.” The man has the audacity to wink at you and give you a big, bunny grin. You pretend like your stomach doesn’t flutter.

You roll your eyes, again.

“How about you, Cherries? Any classes?”

“Yeah, I’m taking this natural language processing class three times a week for three hours each day-”

“Wait, you’re a comp sci major?” He asks incredulously, “Why are you working at a law firm then?”

“I’m working half as IT support and half as the intern,” You reply with a shrug, “It pays well and it’s pretty easy. Half of the IT support comes in the form of telling the lawyers to restart their computers for software updates. It’s so funny, you should see their amazed faces when all it takes is a fuckin’ restart. Makes a girl feel smart as hell.”

“Smart and pretty, huh?” Jungkook says with a crooked grin, “Where you been all my life, Cherries?”

“Shut up,” You say flatly, levelling him with a glare that only makes him smirk even wider at you.

“Cute,” He breathes with so much conviction that it almost makes you flustered. You clutch your bag of food a little tighter to ground yourself.

“Me telling you to shut up is cute?” You raise both your eyebrows, eager to shield him from the heat in your cheeks.

“Among many other things, Cherries.”

“Share with the class then…”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Shut up, and why do you like calling me cherries so much,” You complain, lips jutted out in a pout, “I only wore that top once and now look. You’re referring to me as a delectable, juicy fruit. I mean I don’t blame you-”

“Cherries are my favorite,” Jungkook says, dark eyes swirling with stars. He unnerves you with his raw honesty and sincerity and he lets the implication of his words hang in between you both, your eyes wide by his statement.

“Well, your taste is questionable because mangoes are very obviously superior-”

You both share a laugh and you’re pleasantly surprised by how the silence that comfortably falls isn’t awkward when you deflect. His name is called shortly after, breaking his intense stare.

You let out a huff, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Hey, I’ll drive you home,” Jungkook says, pushing the door open for you to exit the shop.

“You have a car on campus?” You say, unable to hold back the awe in your voice, “That’s awesome. And uh, no, I mean, you really don’t have to, it’s only a fifteen minute walk-”

“It’s a two minute ride,” Jungkook says, “But I mean, if you’re not comfortable, I get it-”

“No, it’s not that,” You say honestly, “I just don’t want to inconvenience you-”

“You’re not, it’s a two minute ride. Now get in,” Jungkook says reassuringly, opening the passenger side door for you. He puts his own bags of food in the backseat before getting into the driver’s side.

You’ve never really been alone with Jungkook, but for some reason it doesn’t feel that strange. It’s easy to keep conversation (really, it’s banter) flowing with him- as if you’ve been friends for the entirety of the last few years of college. As if you hadn’t spent nearly every waking moment thinking of him a certain way.

He’s easy to talk to. It unnerves you, but you roll with it.

“You should come to a practice one of these days,” Jungkook murmurs. You raise an eyebrow. Why would he ask you to come to one of his soccer practices when you had only just started an acquaintance-ship? Isn’t that crossing some sort of friendship line that you both hadn’t approached yet.

It’s months later when you realize that everything Jungkook does and says is because of his kind, golden heart. He’s such a genuine person, sincerity always dripping from his warm, brown eyes. Everything he does, he does with love.

“Thanks for driving me home, Jungkook,” You murmur with a small smile. It makes his heart sputter in his chest and he easily returns it. “Text me when you get home?”

“If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask. Cherries,” Jungkook says smugly and you gasp, affronted. “Text me when you get inside your place.”

“That’s not- I didn’t-” You stammer, sighing, “I already have your number, stupid.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” You mutter, cheeks blazing as you hurry to get out of his car. Which coincidentally smells just like him. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“‘Night, Cherry.”

You roll your eyes but give him a small wave and a smile before entering your building.

cherries: I’m inside. Drive safe jungkook: you worried about me? cherries: no im worried about your nice car jungkook: uh huh… gonna leave now, text you when i get home? cherries: 👍🏾

It’s about three minutes later (you barely even have time to wash your hands and change into pajamas) before your phone lights up again.

jungkook: im home cherries: me too jungkook: wow you’re funny cherries: pretty and smart too, according to you jungkook: well i wasnt lying 😍 cherries: Uh huhhhhh

You put your phone to the side to put some of the food on your plate, your stomach still rumbling. You turn on the anime you’re currently watching and get cozy on the couch with a glass of wine.

And in the middle of your late dinner, your wine and your show, your phone lights up with texts from Jungkook. It surprises you that he holds the conversation even when you had given him such a dull response. Isn’t he tired of texting you by now?

He keeps you company through your dinner and you barely are even paying attention to the anime you’re watching, only giggling to yourself over Jungkook’s silly texts-

cherries: you’re so distracting, couldnt even finish this episode of fruits basket jungkook: cute cherries: i cant tell u if its cute, i barely watched it bc of you jungkook: no i meant u. Ur cute

Five seconds go by. Then ten. Your face is heated- you’re glad he can’t see you. Maybe you’ll reciprocate someday. But today is not that day.

cherries: shut up

tags: @kookdbean

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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mimiplaysgames · 3 years

Text

Terraqua Week Day 5 (Mischief)

Summary: Aqua doesn’t have a crush on Terra. She doesn’t. Okay, she does. Or, Terra accidentally walks in on her in the shower. || Word Count: 3,476

Read on AO3

A/N: @terraquaweek I should mention a tiny little warning that there is a reference to nudity in this fic! It’s not described, so it’s totally T-rated but in case that is something you wanted to know. :) This is the shortest fic in the bunch, something cute and fun. The shower scene was a deleted scene in my Terraquanort fic, but I found that it just didn’t fit with the mood at all haha

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

nah.

Accidents don’t often happen to Aqua.

Ha.

Aqua swings her Keyblade upward. The force juggles golden rings assigned for training, usually tied to a pole for a bounce back. The Master mentioned some interesting techniques the other day in class: style changes, or the ability to enhance your power after a string of emotional attacks deep in the heat of battle, when you’re forced to rely on your heart to pull you out of a tough situation. Terra is sure to be developing new tricks, too.

There’s two months left until the Mark of Mastery. Letting the rings loose is a handicap Aqua places on herself: they’re heavy, resisting her magic to bounce in the air. This way, they should mimic what it’d feel like to fight a powerful enemy. She practices her pirouettes, and her waves of magic attempt to buoy them in the air in a violent tornado, but her spell flounders, a small push by a child in a playground. She adds a waltz step, a flip to give it a good kick, but it’s not enough. The rings crash back onto the grass.

Aqua grunts and goes for the kill—but she twists her ankle at the crevice of a rock, landing on her knee.

“Stars,” she curses, wincing. Her knee is scraped, a hole ripped through her stocking, and her ankle aches. Stars. She casts Heal on her knee to soothe the sting and the gentlest summon of Ice to counter the swelling in her ankle. She tries to stand on it but can’t, so she casts more rounds of Heal and Ice spells until her leg can at least bear her weight.

Aqua limps to the castle through the back entrance, where the communal showers are. Showerheads, each with its own white curtain, are built on one side and sinks on the other in a wide open space. It’s part of a long hallway that connects to one of the gyms and a storage room down a corner. The floor is lilac concrete tile and drains, where it gives way to marble when you enter the castle proper.

There was a time when the castle housed enough students to justify the size of this room, but Aqua is grateful she has direct access instead of having to drag this stupid ankle up a tower to her bedroom.

She shrugs off her sweaty, dirt-ridden clothes and shoes, and throws them in one corner, picking a shower that already houses soap, careful to put all her weight on one foot. The curtain draws around her in a u-shape and she turns the hot water knob, the pipes whistling as the water gushes through.

It gently scalds her at first but Aqua sighs when she gets used to it, rolling her shoulders and lifting her elbow over her head to stretch. The heat is good for the muscles. She presses her fingers near her neck, where it’s tight, and massages, then bends down to cast more Heal and Ice spells onto her ankle. Grime and sand flow down her skin, losing saturation as it curls down the drain under her feet. The soap stings when it runs over her scrape.

She can’t keep making mistakes.

Maybe the waltz step was too much and over-complicated things.

Aqua turns the knob off after rinsing her body and listens to the water drip onto the floor. The repetitive sound is hypnotic. She’ll journal her progress when she gets to her room and make comparisons with entries from the last few weeks.

Hopefully, she’s improving at an acceptable speed despite the injury.

Aqua tests her ankle. She can’t flex it. Stars.

What is she missing when it comes to her technique? Does she need better endurance with her pirouettes? Does she have the time to do it right before the Mark of Mastery?

When she realizes that she needs a towel to dry off—and there’s no towel in sight—she realizes that she’s been standing there wasting the time away. The shower is the greatest and the worst place to think.

Aqua figures she could grab a towel from the storage room nearby without anyone noticing.

She opens the curtain.

Terra is standing right there, eyes as round as oranges with a heavy bag of fertilizer in his arms. He drops it. Aqua shuts the curtain with a screech.

“I’m sorry!” she hears him yell. Through the bottom of the curtain, she sees him scalping for excess that spilled over. Whatever hits the floor is mixing into the water, making mud. He’s barefoot.

“Terra, what the stars—?” she hisses, covering herself despite the curtain (a single piece of thin fabric).

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were in here!”

“How is that possible?”

“Why are you standing here doing nothing?”

“Just—Terra—” She groans loudly.

There is a pause as he walks backwards. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

“Get out of here.”

His footsteps slap across the floor, a subtle splash and the smack against the tile. Aqua peeks through the curtain when it’s quiet. She’s alone with a sequence of mud heading into the castle. Aqua grabs her clothes, slipping the bare minimum on despite its filth, and treks down the hall, purposefully taking opposite directions from his trail.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their designated table in the library is always littered with books, damaged ones exchanged for the unread when the assignment deems it. There’s an extra stack for Ven since he’s a couple of years behind.

Aqua (carefully) enters the library (ignoring the throbbing—it will heal quickly, she tells herself). She’s cleanly dressed and re-bathed, and takes a seat at the desk while Terra and Ven babble about the nonsense of a textbook they both hate.

Terra gives her a quick, panicked glance before turning away from her and staring hard at the book in front of him.

Ven notices. “Aqua, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, just a sprain,” she says, suddenly clenched in the throat. What happened in the shower was nothing. No big deal. Sometimes best friends see things. So why is she, too, bordering on panic? Heat builds in her cheeks, so much that it hurts. Aqua tilts her head at an angle so her hair covers her face.

“What’s with you two?” Ven asks and Aqua flinches.

“Nothing, Ven,” Terra says too sternly. He bites his lip and stands too quickly. “A Heal spell isn’t enough for a sprain, what were you thinking?” he asks her without looking at her. He clears his throat loud enough to make Ven recoil, trying his best to hide how shaky his voice has become. “Excuse me,” Terra says before shuffling his feet like he’s holding his pee and disappearing.

When it’s quiet, Ven leans forward to get into Aqua’s personal space. “Okay, I know something’s up. What’s going on?” He squints. “Why is your face all red?”

“N-no reason.” Aqua opens a book. If she digs her entire face into it, it will look like she’s hiding on purpose. She lowers her chin (casually) to pretend she’s reading.

“You’re a liar.”

Aqua slams the book back down. “I do not lie, Ven.”

“Sure, you’re the definition of perfect. But you’re lying to me now.”

Aqua doesn’t know what to do. Her record is spotless. She’s a good student and a good person. She’s only ever told small, harmless white lies, about being tired when she doesn’t feel like it, or saying she isn’t hungry when she is so they don’t catch her sneaking in a brownie. But not this.

“I’m not,” she says in the most unconvincing way.

“Fine, I’ll bug Terra about it—”

“There was,” Aqua says, her voice uneven (damn the stars), “an accident.”

Ven raises a skeptical brow. “And? How bad could that be?”

Aqua huffs and crosses her arms. It’s just Ven. Her other best friend, no judgment here. “Terra surprised me.”

Ven rolls his eyes.

“In the communal shower.”

He points and laughs at her, dropping his head in a fit and slamming a fist onto the surface of the table. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he says in between gasps. “Oh, he must be suffering right now.”

Terra returns, more relaxed, carrying a wooden bowl and bandages. Still, he avoids looking Aqua in the eye.

“So…” Ven says with an obnoxious knowing to his voice and Aqua regrets everything. “Did you enjoy the view?”

Terra stares at her first, his brown skin pale. He glares at Ven with the ferocity of homicide.

Ven bursts into another shake of laughter. “Stars, don’t tell me. You’re blushing so hard.”

At that, Aqua looks away. The thought is embarrassing and a… relief? At the same time?

Terra doesn’t honor Ven with a reply. He trembles, forming a claw with his hand. When he waves it, the bookshelves shake. Several books zoom out and flap, hovering over Ven and hitting him on the head like crows on the attack.

“Wait, stop, how are you doing this?” Ven shields his head with his arms, but Terra is bent on murder. Ven summons his Keyblade and cuts straight through the spine of a book. “Okay, okay, I get it!” The books glide close, ready to torpedo if necessary. Terra refuses to say anything. Ven steps away from the table, on guard. Then he smirks. He sticks his tongue out and bolts out the door. “Maybe that means you guys will finally kiss!” he yells down the hall.

Kiss.

A word as loud as a volcano erupting.

Terra lets go of his magic and all the books drop to the floor, yet the crash is still quieter than Kiss, quieter than how hard her heart is drumming in her chest.

Without a word, Terra picks up the bowl with both of his hands and mumbles a short-lived Fire spell. It’s obvious that she’s to remove her sock and give her ankle to him. That’s the point, a turmeric and olive oil mix, gently heated to reduce inflammation. He doesn’t need to ask.

Aqua lifts her leg to remove her stocking.

Terra flinches and dramatically averts his eyes.

“It’s just a sock, Terra.”

Terra motions to look at her as a response, but stops himself. “You shouldn’t be walking on it,” he bites.

“Call me stubborn.”

“You’re stubborn.”

She fights the impulse to slap him on the back of the head. “Here.” She offers her naked leg to him.

Terra still won’t look at her, but digs two of his fingers into the mix and holds her calf with his other hand. He almost draws back from her skin. Stars, he is blushing. She is too, she can feel it, a boil in both of her cheeks, a flame building in her stomach. His fingers are warm and strong, a caress on her skin. She likes this. She has all the capability to do this herself but she doesn’t want to.

Shit.

Aqua crosses one arm over and brings her hand to her chest—her way of looking dignified as Terra rubs the solution over her ankle. She has been appreciating how broad his shoulders have gotten, how sharp his jawline is, how tall he’s grown. All things that most people would notice, surely. He’s beautiful, he’s always been.

He opens his mouth to say something.

Aqua panics. “If you dare make a comment—”

“You’ll kick me?” Terra lifts her leg higher out of spite and nearly pulls her off the chair. He takes the bandage and starts to wrap.

Aqua stammers. How are they going to get through this?

“It was an accident, Terra.”

He freezes as though he can’t decide if he should finish the job or drop her leg. After a pause, he pitches his voice into a high octave to mimic her (badly). “Oh please, Terra, they’re just breasts. Nothing major.”

“You said—” she squeaks and covers her mouth. She shouldn’t be so naive. The heat in her cheeks bake.

That’s fine. Best friends know lots of intimate things, especially with how long Terra and Aqua have been together. Some of her guts, though, are about to choke her esophagus. She hopes that doesn’t mean she wanted him to see anything. That she’d want him to enjoy it.

Shit.

Terra trembles in nervous laughter, soft and quiet, staring holes into her ankle as he knots the bandage. He’s blinking too much. “You’ll need to compress cold rice on it every now and then,” he says, suddenly serious. “And rest,” he stresses like it’s a curse word.

“Terra?”

He hesitates. “Yeah?”

Footsteps approach them from behind, too graceful to be Ven’s. Terra scrambles to pick up the books, choosing the sliced one first to slip into the bookshelf so the Master doesn’t notice. Aqua straightens herself out and slips on her shoe.

“Would someone mind explaining to me the mess in the communal showers?” the Master asks as he enters, before eyeing the mess in the library. He braces his hips with his fists. “What on earth are two concoting here?”

Her cheeks burn harder.

“Not much, sir,” Terra says, gathering a tall stack of books under his chin. “Pranking Ven. The usual.”

The tone of his voice is too suspicious and the Master knows them too well.

“Aqua,” the Master says, “you sustained an injury.”

All she can come up with is, “Not in the prank, sir.”

“So the mud—?”

“In the shower,” Terra says quickly, without thinking. Overcompensating for the awkwardness. He bites his lip. “I mean, she slipped when she was showering.”

“He only knows because I told him,” Aqua says and she wants to slap herself. Of course that’s how Terra would find out in any normal story. Spelling it out makes it seem like he witnessed it himself. Terra glares her a new one.

Eraqus reads her with skepticism. He folds his hands behind his back and clears his throat. “Terra, you remember the discussion we’ve had some years ago regarding certain curiosities—”

“Yes, Master.” Terra inhales sharply and coughs.

The Master smiles. He looks pleased with himself. “You may continue to clear this up. And if you would please, keep the mischief at a minimum. It would be a great distraction from your work.”

Terra grits his teeth and Aqua lowers her eyes. “Yes, Master,” they both say slowly, like they’re about to step on hot coal.

When the Master leaves, Terra drops books onto the table. He’s finally looking at her, his eyes such a striking depth. It suddenly melts her away. Why so sudden though? He’s always had dark eyes.

Oh. She’s taken him for granted. Now she sees.

“What was that?” he whispers.

Aqua scoffs. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He shakes his head. “I never want to have that kind of conversation with the Master ever again.”

“At least let me help you,” Aqua says, nodding over to the last gathering of books on the floor.

“I’m not letting you stand on that foot.” He bends over to do the work himself.

“Then I’ll help you clean out the mud.”

Terra puts away the last handful of books, and chuckles to himself. “How do you want to get there? Crutches?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, I either carry you in my arms or I fling you over my shoulder.”

Aqua needs to find a spell to hide the blushing. It aches. “What an obnoxious suggestion.”

“Then I’ll leave you here in the library.”

“No.”

Terra snorts. “Okay.” He hooks an arm under her knees and lifts the rest of her body like she’s a hollow ragdoll. So close to him, Aqua can feel the grooves of his muscle, his chest durable and broad. She wonders if he enjoys holding her this close, too.

“I am really sorry,” he says as he takes her back towards the showers, passing by the open entrance to that gym, padded for wrestling. It’s not one they use often, since most of their training happens towards the front entrance. “I was on my way to take care of the squash. It was a dumb accident.”

“It’s okay,” Aqua says. She’s resting her head on his shoulder, staring at the way his neck moves when he speaks. Here, they don’t have to look at each other. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah.” He sounds almost disappointed, if not relieved. “Glad we sorted that out, right?”

“Definitely.” She wraps her arms around his neck tighter.

“What were you doing?”

“Pushing myself too hard.” Aqua scoffs.

“Typical Aqua.”

At the way he says that—mock-cocky, snivelish, playful—she blushes. He hasn’t changed since they were little, but it’s a side to him that only she and Ven sees.

There’s a lot to him that he only shows her.

They reach the storage room where the mop and towels would be stored, but he doesn’t enter. “We really need to install a door here,” he says. They reach the communal showers, and he bypasses them too. Terra finally settles her down on the terrace outside.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

“No, wait, I’m helping you—”

“Not with that foot, you’re nuts.”

“You can’t stop me from crawling back inside.”

“Then I’ll drag you back out.” He smirks, almost like he’s his old self but not quite. His old self isn’t this adamant. It makes her think that there’s something he isn’t saying, that maybe she’s misreading him, stuck between doing his duty to help her and needing time away from her. That he’s hiding it all behind a joke, and she has to let him go.

“Okay.” She crosses her arms.

“Rest isn’t terrible for you,” he says as he walks away.

Aqua stares at dry dirt. Down this path are the flower and vegetable gardens, contained by a fence. Beyond is the trail that leads right to the spot where she started this ridiculous ordeal. If only she didn’t trip. She’s been training for years. She’s too skilled to be having accidents, too far in her studies to think this hard about her feelings for Terra.

Too far in her studies and too mature to keep denying that she wants him to look at her. She does.

She gets tapped on the head.

“Wait here,” Terra says, heading towards the gardens, barely giving her a glance.

Aqua anchors her elbows onto her thighs and drops her chin into her hands. A sudden thought invades her mind: he’ll come back from whatever chore he has to finish here, take her to her room, and now that everything is said and done, they’ll pretend like none of this has happened.

And that is that. A weird day finished, a blip in history.

Terra comes back into view faster than she anticipated, holding a bouquet of orange and blue flowers in his hand.

Aqua uses the wall to pull herself up, keeping most of her weight on the good foot. “What’s this?”

Terra opens his mouth to speak, and leaves it there. He licks his lips and offers the flowers. “Um…” He scoffs. “I’m bad at this.”

They smell nice. Roses and bluestars. They must be his way to apologize. “They’re beautiful.”

“Um…” He clears his throat, rubbing something raw at the back of his neck. “Would you like to, uh…” He glances at the ground beneath him, summoning the courage to look at her and speak clearly, overusing his hands to demonstrate. “There’s actually a really pretty cave nearby, full of crystals and minerals. It’s spectacular, and I’ve always wanted to take you to see it.” He blushes, swallowing. “Um, when you feel better, would you like to come see it with me? Spend the night, I mean?” He blushes harder, scoffing. “It’s a nice hike and it’s a great camping spot.”

Aqua squeezes the stems of the flowers and her heart hammers too hard to find her voice. “That sounds…” She exhales. “Nice.” She almost asks for permission—from who, she doesn’t know. Terra is asking her. She’s asking herself. “Yes, I’d love to.” She hopes to the stars she’s blushing less than him.

Terra has no answer except for a nervous giggle, his eyes gleaming. He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek, whipping himself back with a hand to his face like he’s committed the worst sin in the world.

It’s warm where he left his lips. Aqua touches it with her fingers.

Embarrassed laughter sputters out of Terra’s mouth with many unnecessary apologies.

Aqua smiles, and it comforts him. “Can you take me back inside?” she asks, that smile twisting her cheeks. It hurts so good.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Anywhere you want.”

They exchange rogue giggles and excited glances as he carries her. They talk as if nothing indeed has happened, where they avoid any mention of mischief to be had in the near future, at least for now. Maybe the stars threw her off balance this morning on purpose. Best friends. They’ve always been.

#terraqua #aqua #terra #ventus #kingdom hearts fanfiction #lmao omg #this cute little one is finally out #i hope you like it!#my fic

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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - chapter 4

summary: Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use, emotional abuse)

ao3 link

six years ago

Chloe glanced up at the Girls neon sign and adjusted her purse over her shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous; it was just dancing, right? Chloe loved dancing. Granted, it would be in a bikini and heels with mostly middle-aged men watching, a far cry from her performances as Bella, but she could do this.

She didn’t have much of a choice, anyway.

Money had been really tight lately, as it turned out living in NYC was really expensive, and her parents couldn’t help her much, given that they had already financed her seven years in Barden and her dad had health issues.

It was one of her colleagues at the coffee shop Chloe worked at who told her about stripping. The money was a lot better and the hours were flexible, so Chloe could go to class during the day, study for a bit at night then head to work. Sleep would be scarce but… it was either that or she wouldn’t be able to pay rent this month.

Sucking in a deep breath, Chloe pushed the door open and found it locked. It was only seven pm, but she didn’t want to bother the manager later in the night when it got busy. She knocked on the surface several times, the door eventually opening after a minute or two.

“Yes?” A slightly older woman popped her head out. “What can I do for you, honey? We don’t open ‘til nine.”

“I know, um, I was hoping to see the manager? I was told there was an opening for a stripper position.”

Her gaze swept over Chloe’s figure, and she smiled before opening the door wider. “Have a seat, I’ll call him.”

present time

“Marco, turn off your fucking phone,” Chloe groaned, patting the space next to her to wake him up.

The blaring alarm was jamming into her skull like a goddamn sledgehammer. When her hand only met soft sheets, Chloe’s eyes opened, instantly squinting against the blinding light. Marco wasn’t there. Not that it was much of a surprise, as he often slept around. “Fuck,” she muttered as she sat up, eventually locating the offending object and swiping across the screen until it turned silent. Chloe flopped back against the mattress, legs twisting into the sheets as she angled her face into the pillow. Her head was pulsing from a raging hangover and her mouth felt as dry as the freaking Sahara, but Chloe didn’t feel like moving.

She didn’t feel like living.

Each morning felt like having to claw herself a way out from underneath the rubble. Each morning felt like she had fallen a little bit deeper during the night.

All of that because of one wrong step, and a tumble.

five and a half years ago

Multiple Sclerosis.

Chloe remembered the day her parents told her about it. She was eighteen, it was a warm evening in the summer. She had been stargazing, like she often did during those peaceful nights, making the most of Oregon’s gorgeous skies before she moved to Atlanta for college.

Her mom called her inside, sitting her down at the table. Chloe could immediately tell something was wrong.

Her dad was sick. Multiple Sclerosis, the doctor said. Chloe had heard of it, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. Her dad explained it was something to do with the brain and the nerves. He was starting to lose feeling in his right arm, and it would only get worse with age.

The news crushed Chloe; her dad was her best friend, her adventure buddy. He took her on camping trips before she could walk. They went fishing together, played ball on the nearby court, or went for runs on the beach on Sundays. He often talked about how excited he was to do all these things with his grandchildren in the future.

Since his disease was late-onset, it progressed quickly. Her dad could no longer walk, and she could tell her parents were struggling with affording treatment, homecare, and equipment to make their lives easier.

“More shifts, huh?” Greg, the club’s manager, asked her as he reclined back in his leather chair behind his desk, folding his hands over his stomach.

“Yeah, I’m a little tight on money and would like to work two more nights a week.”

She would figure out how to juggle stripping with school. She just would.

“I don’t have any more shifts available, unfortunately. However…” he pushed to his feet and rounded his desk, leaning against it as he faced Chloe. “Clients like you. I’ve stopped counting the number of times they requested you for something private. So there’s always that option to make extra cash.”

“Something private?” Chloe cleared her throat. “What um-- what does that entail exactly?”

Greg smirked. “Anything goes for the right amount of money.”

Chloe knew the more she thought about it, the most likely she was to chicken out. So she agreed.

“You look like you’re going to be sick, hun,” Martha, the oldest stripper of the bunch, said as she approached Chloe. She sat in front of her vanity, mentally preparing herself to go into one of the VIP rooms with a client. “You need to pull yourself together, babe. The client won’t enjoy it if you’re nervous.”

She reached inside her purse and produced a tiny zip-lock bag with a bit of white powder in it.

“Helps to take the edge off, especially on your first time,” she added when Chloe glanced at her in shock.

“I don’t-- I don’t do that stuff.”

She knew drugs got around the club. Most of the girls used. Crack, ecstasy, heroin, meth… you name it, Chloe had seen it go around. But she promised herself she’d never go down that route.

Martha shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Chloe lasted three weeks before snorting her first line.

present time

“Fuck, where is it?” Chloe muttered to herself as she rummaged through her bag, eventually tipping it back so its contents spread over the mattress.

She spotted the tiny bag and snatched it, smearing some of its content onto the small mirror laying on her bedside table. Her hand shook as she used an expired credit card to make a line, then grabbed the straw.

You know that first cup of coffee of the day you can hardly function without? Well, that is what cocaine had become to Chloe. She used to justify her actions by convincing herself she could stop anytime she wanted to. But it was already too late. She was hooked, and it was too fucking hard to stop.

As she plopped back on her bed and attempted to relax while the coke worked on her nervous system, Chloe thought of Beca.

five years ago

Bree 💕

Chloe groaned at the name flashing on her vibrating phone and flipped it over, curling up in a ball on her bed. She had been ignoring most of the girls for the past few weeks. Every glance at the group chat reminded her of how much of a failure she was.

Aubrey had just passed the bar. Beca had been nominated for a Grammy. Cynthia-Rose was a music producer. Stacie, a space engineer. And so on.

They were all successful in life, while Chloe?

Well, Chloe had dropped out of vet school. She was a stripper who pleasured men for a living. She lived in a tiny box apartment and spent her grocery money on crack. She got drunk pretty much every night and had absolutely no prospect in life.

Their yearly Bellas reunion was just around the corner, and Chloe hadn’t replied yet, which was no doubt the reason behind her best friend calling this morning. And yesterday. And the day before that.

Chloe couldn’t go. For the same reason, she couldn’t go home to her parents.

The thought of it only fed that shame eating away at her soul.

present day

Chloe hadn’t allowed herself to think about the Bellas in a long time, as it only brought heartbreak, regrets, and even more shame over how she had left things.

But then Beca showed up out of the blue, and Chloe’s shield instantly materialized. She saw it right there in Beca’s eyes; the pity over what Chloe had become. That unspoken reminder that she was a failure made Chloe want to crawl out of her own skin.

Chloe wasn’t planning on using that business card. Even though Beca was on her mind near constantly, she couldn’t bring herself to call her. And then they bumped into one another last week, and despite the snark, what was left of the Chloe from six years ago within her thought it might mean something.

A coffee. Coffee was fine, to start with.

Sarah was unexpected, yet another proof of how together Beca’s life was. But Chloe pushed through the discomfort swirling around her insides, up until the money comment. Up until it further dawned on her that they now belonged to two very different worlds.

Beca was probably a multi-millionaire. Aubrey was a lawyer. And Chloe? Well, Chloe was still just as worthless as she was five years ago. That shame she had somehow managed to bury all that time came right back around to slap her in the face.

So she bolted, figuring this was the last she would see of Beca Mitchell.

Except Chloe couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Grabbing her computer, she sat up against the headboard and balanced the device on her thighs, allowing herself to look Beca up for the first time in five years.

Various photos of Beca on the red carpet and a Wikipedia page popped up, and Chloe clicked on the page, swallowing the lump forming in her throat as she scrolled down. Fifteen minutes later, she somehow found herself on YouTube, typing in the same name and clicking on the most popular video.

Something unraveled within her as she heard that voice for the first time in half a decade. An array of emotions released, but one stood out over the others as it was a feeling Chloe hadn’t experienced in a long time: peace.

Music hadn’t felt like music for a long while; Chloe had lost her connection to it somewhere down the road. She had grown numb to it, just like with most things that used to make her happy.

But this… Chloe had forgotten what it felt like to be moved by lyrics. To feel comforted by a melody that felt like a warm blanket over her soul. Soon tears were slipping out of her eyes and Chloe didn’t do anything to stop them. She curled up in a ball and played Beca’s albums on shuffle for the next three hours, basking in that temporary moment of serenity.

When it eventually stopped, Chloe plucked Beca’s business card from her bedside table and grabbed her phone, blinking several times to clear her vision so she could punch in the right numbers. Her heart echoed in her ears as she waited for someone to pick it up.

“BMLJ, Tara speaking, how may I help?”

“H-hi, this is Chloe Beale. I was wondering if I could speak to Beca? Beca Mitchell.”

“Hold please.”

Chloe started picking on her nails, battling with the little voice inside her head encouraging her to hang up.

“Chlo?”

Chloe’s chest tightened at the nickname, and her voice stuck to her throat. “Hi.”

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“No, I… I mean yes, I am crying but I-- I just listened to your music and-- it’s amazing, Beca.”

“Oh.” Beca sounded surprised. A few beats of silence follow. “It means a lot that you liked it, Chlo.”

It took Chloe a handful of seconds to realize she was the one supposed to say something. “I um, is this a bad time?”

“No, no. What’s up?”

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath as she picked at a loose thread on her sleeping shorts. “I um, well I was wondering if we could see each other sometime next week? I’m sorry about the other day, I wasn’t-- I wasn’t feeling great.”

“You don’t need to apologize. And yeah, that sounds great. How about Thursday for lunch? Or a walk in the park, if you prefer.”

“A walk in the park sounds good.”

“We can meet next to the Roosevelt statue in front of the Natural History Museum at 12:30?”

“Okay.”

“Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy you called. See you on Thursday.”

Chloe’s smile felt like the first genuine one in too long. “See you on Thursday.”

“What’s going on on Thursday?”

Chloe jolted, looking over her shoulder to find Marco standing in the doorway. “Jesus, Marco. You scared the crap out of me.”

two years ago

“I’m Marco, the club’s new manager,” the dark-haired man introduced himself, extending a hand towards Chloe.

Chloe shook his hand. “I’m Ariel.”

“You really are as beautiful as they say.”

She glanced through the mirror and met his eyes; unimpressed. “Is it a habit of yours to hit on your employees?”

He chuckled. “No. I guess you’re the exception.”

Chloe wasn’t interested. At first, anyway. But Marco had apparently set his sights on her, and well, Chloe felt lonely. They played around each other for a few months, eventually giving in to their attraction towards each other. One night’s shenanigans blossomed into more, and Chloe found herself falling for her boss.

And she believed him when he told her he loved her. He was the buoy in her storm, the hand that was pulling her from underneath the rubble. Chloe was so blinded by that that she didn’t pick up on his toxic behavior right away.

“Here’s a thought,” he murmured one morning as they lay in bed in his luxurious condo.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. She was definitely still drunk from last night, her recent hit of crack causing her mind to float blissfully.

He set his chin on her hipbone as he lay on his stomach, looking up at her. “I don’t want you to work in the VIP room anymore.”

“Are you jealous or something?” Chloe slurred, smirking to mask how desperate she was to stop working in the VIP room. It had crushed her spirit. “You know I can’t afford to only live on lapdances and the stage. I have rent and bills to pay.”

He licked his lips, a soft smile spreading across her features. “I know. Which is why you should move in with me.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “We’ve been together only four months.”

“But I love you,” he said, almost desperately. “And you love me too, right? We’re good together, baby.”

A sigh flitted past Chloe’s lips. “Even if I do move in, I still have to take care of my dad.”

“I know that too. And I want you to get a cut from the nightly profit, too.”

Chloe should have known it was too good to be true, yet she agreed.

It was another year before the veil lifted and Marco showed his true character.

present

Marco ignored her. As he usually did. “What’s going on on Thursday?” He repeated his tone calm and collected as always.

“I’m meeting up with Beca.” Not waiting for an answer, Chloe stood and padded out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. It was nearly five, and she hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“The chick from the 20 grand lapdance?” Marco followed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter while Chloe rummaged through the cupboards for a snack. “What’s her deal?”

“What do you mean, what’s her deal? We’re just gonna catch up. I told you, we used to be friends in college.”

Marco’s features hardened. “I don’t want you to see her.”

Chloe grabbed a box of crackers and rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.”

Marco approached, pinning her between his body and the counter. “Don’t talk to me like that, Chloe.”

Chloe gritted her teeth and glared at him, standing her ground. “I never complain about you sleeping around with other women and you lose your mind over me meeting a friend? You don’t control me. I’ll meet her if I want to.”

She moved to get past him, yelping when he yanked her back by the arm. The anger swirling in his eyes made her choke on her saliva.

“I don’t think you realize how much I’ve done for you, Chloe. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be giving blowjobs for a living.” He didn’t need to raise his voice; the truth behind his words was powerful enough as they wormed their way into Chloe’s brain. “Does she even know you’re a crack addict? That you can’t go more than five hours without a hit?” He continued, seemingly finding it satisfying to break through Chloe’s armor. “Maybe she’s just looking for a charity case.”

Chloe warred with her mind not to believe him, shaking her head as her insecurities muffled her anger towards Marco. “That’s not-- that’s not true. You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

Chloe remained silent, doubt seizing her.

“That’s what I thought.” Marco’s hold loosened. “Think about your dad, sweetheart. It would be a shame if you suddenly found yourself without a job and no money to provide for him. You know no other strip club will want you if I fire you. And that’s all you can do, isn’t it? Using your body to charm men into giving you money.” He squeezed her hip, leaning in closer so he was whispering the next bit directly against her ear. “So I would listen if I were you.”

He walked away then, but his words remained, trapping Chloe’s mind in an invisible prison.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #chloe beale #beca mitchell #pitch perfect fanfic #pieces

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yukipri · 3 years

Text

Marco’s Bauble Part 8 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Another update for Tumblr!

This work goes by On the Courtship of Monkey D. Luffy on AO3, and I’ll be updating over there tonight as well!

A quick question....do people like reading the updates here on Tumblr? Or now that it’s on AO3, would people prefer to read there? And if so, would you be okay waiting for new updates until AO3 catches up? I’m a little torn because I’m not sure if people are enjoying reading on here, and it’s quite a hassle to format for Tumblr, and it’s getting a bit difficult for me to juggle updating these stories on 3 separate platforms...

ANYWAY, in this update, Thatch has some Thoughts, and there is mention of Ace x Luffy.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 4

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 5

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 6

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 7

What are her 3 sizes?

(For the wedding dress, of course.)

"The fuck! Like I'd tell you!" Thatch roars, startling the blue gull into momentarily leaping off the rail, before it circles back, landing again to peck at his sleeve to express its displeasure. Thatch ignores it, because he's fuming.

So apparently all of his and Koala's secret debates over whether Marco intentionally proposed or not were for naught, because here's the fucking evidence. And it comes from Izo of all people, because Thatch would recognize that lopsided handwriting anywhere (the man insists that his handwriting is beautiful in his native language of Wano, but he never quite got used to writing any other way).

And well, if Izo, an unrelated third party but professional snooper knows, then Marco himself must know.

And apparently, they're already planning a wedding.

Thatch feels like an idiot. He'd been defending Marco against Koala, and the lil Revolutionary was a tough opponent, one he'd had to chase out of the kitchen with a ladle more than once when he was tired of her word games. Thatch had insisted, like a fool, that no Marco's not that kind of guy, he really isn't the type to play with people's emotions, he would never propose for a joke, nor would he do it seriously without good reason. It must all be an accident, a little misunderstanding, Marco was just ignorant like Thatch himself was!

Except, apparently he did know and it wasn't an accident, and now Thatch feels completely lost because he doesn't know what Marco's thinking at all. Marco, who's not just his his first friend on the Moby, but arguably his best friend; Marco, his brother over several decades; Marco, who Thatch thought he knew better than anyone, except perhaps Pops himself...

Thatch's also pissed, because if Marco wants to start drama after they all reunite and he's introduced to Luffy, that's one thing (not that that would be great either). But right now, they're still near the beginning of Paradise with almost half the circumference of the world to go until even the halfway point, and Marco is WAY on the other side of the Red Line. If this ship explodes in flames or whatever that batshit Revolutionary brother might do, Mister First Division Commander is completely unaffected, but there are plenty of innocents here (like hello! Thatch!) who would find that pretty devastating.

Also, Thatch was the one who passed on that gift to Luffy! Even if he didn't know what it meant at the time...doesn't that make Thatch complicit? And even if not, Marco's strongest connection here is clearly Thatch. If Marco's actions cause chaos, then the blame and responsibility to clean up the mess naturally falls upon Thatch. Which, he definitely did not sign up for.

Pops, Thatch thinks miserably, I thought I was supposed to show them they can depend on us Whitebeards, NOT that us Whitebeards will fuck shit up for them...

But more than anything, there's a shocking large part of Thatch that absolutely balks at just the idea of Luffy getting married. And it's shocking because Thatch shouldn't feel this upset.

Marco, for all the complaints Thatch wants to hurl at him at the moment, is still a really great guy. A guy who, in literally any other situation, Thatch would be the first in line to enthusiastically encourage, and also to congratulate.

And sure, Thatch knows he has a crush, and his little Seastar's carving out a larger home for herself in his heart by the day, but--Thatch admittedly has crushes a lot. Sure, this one feels different, but...Marco, to his knowledge, has never had a romantic crush. He only sometimes but very rarely even has a night out, and Thatch doesn't think he's ever held a relationship longer than three encounters. He's always so serious, so diligent, so sincerely and whole-heartedly dedicated to Pops and his family. He almost never does anything selfish for himself, and Thatch would know.

If, for whatever reason, Marco is genuinely serious about Luffy...then Thatch should, and would, step to the side, regardless of personal feelings. If this is the path Marco wants, then he deserves it, and Thatch will always be the first to say it, no matter how craptastic the circumstances. And Thatch knows that Marco would give his bride the world.

Without them even having met, Thatch doesn't doubt for a second that Marco would make Luffy happy, till the end of her days.

The fact that Thatch knows all this, yet still feels near unbearable reluctance...says more than he's willing to admit.

And so he decides to avoid thinking about the most obvious reason (his own feelings), and instead contemplates his second very compelling reason: Ace.

His littlest brother isn't so great at being honest with himself, and never has. But this, Thatch feels, isn't just a matter of denial.

The boy literally has no clue.

Oh sure, Ace knows he loves his little brother. He makes sure everyone else knows it too, both here on the Merry and back on the Moby once he opened up enough to talk to people. He's so damn proud of her, yet also concerned for her, while also trusting her with his life and more. It's clear to anyone who sees them together that he absolutely adores her.

But it's more than that, isn't it, Thatch thinks. It's in the little gestures, the way Ace raises his arm up without looking at her and she slides under it, also without needing to look at him. It's the casual way they lace their fingers together, like it's nothing, when they're snoozing out on the deck. It's the way sometimes they have unspoken conversations, just staring into each others eyes, before moving forward in synch to meet in the middle to bump their foreheads together in some secret mutual understanding.

It's the reason why Sanji, for all his extravagant flirting, knows when to shut up and return to being a normal human (and, Thatch grudgingly admits, this applies to himself too). It's why Zoro never lets his gaze linger more than two seconds longer than it needs to (but he'll always take those two seconds), why Nami always looks like she wants to sit closer but doesn't, why Koala hasn't said anything when she's probably usually a much more proactive flirter.

Everyone on their crew can see it, except the two in question.

Ace, Thatch thinks, heaving a huge sigh as he looks down at the crumpled note from Izo in his palm. Little brother, you are so fucking in love.

It might not necessarily be romantically. It's certainly not particularly sexually, if Ace's lack of reaction to Lu's aggressive physical smothering is any indication. It could very possibly be platonically.

But either way, there's no room for Sanji, nor Zoro, nor the girls, nor even Thatch himself...at least, until those two figure that out.

Until then, everyone aboard the Merry is here because they love and respect their captains. No one would dare encroach on something so special, yet so potentially immature, not yet ready to be dragged out to be recognized.

Thatch knows Ace has known Luffy for years, he practically raised her. But he was also away at sea for three years. Luffy was a child when he left; she's an adult now.

Thatch once asked him if she had changed at all since he last saw her (Ace most certainly had, according to Deuce). And Ace looked blank, then horribly confused, before saying No...but also, yeah, I guess. Thatch understands; Ace isn't used to not knowing something about Luffy. And something...something had changed.

That something might very well be the thing that needs to be figured out. And for that, Ace hasn't had much time yet, since reuniting with Luffy. Only as much time as the rest of them, in fact. And they deserve time to figure that out, and as the two captains' loving crew, the ASL pirates have an unsaid agreement to watch over them...at least until they have.

(After that, Thatch thinks grimly, it might be open game.)

But of course, there's also the question of Luffy herself, and as much as she's the heart of the ASL Pirates, she's also an enigma. Thatch, for all that he adores her and honestly wants more with her, genuinely has a hard time imagining her as anything but clueless as someone's romantic partner (he's carefully not thinking about anything sexual). It very well may be that the whole "figuring out" that she and Ace have to do...ends up being nothing. And that's fine as well.

Either way, as much as Thatch loves him, there's no way that any of them here on board the Merry will stand to let Marco shatter this delicate...whatever it is that's going on between their captains, that the rest of them are so patiently respecting. Even if it ends up continuing indefinitely.

As strained as it can feel at times, they're comfortable like this. There's the little spark of joy when Seastar gives him a little extra attention, a little burn when Sanji kisses her hand, but comfort in the stability that no one will go any further. If anything it's a nice little spice to their daily lives, just the right amount, and not enough ruin the dish so to speak. This is fine.

Except, that there's just one teeny little problem...

"What did the blue gull bring you today, Commander?"

Thatch doesn't jump, because he's not an amateur and did realize that the Revolutionary was approaching, but perhaps later than he should have. Damn the kid's good at hiding his presence, and Thatch wonders if he'd have noticed at all if Sabo was being serious.

"Just a stupid request from a stupid brother," Thatch says cheerfully as he turns around to face Sabo. The boy isn't even trying to hide his curiosity, his gaze pinned to Thatch's hand.

Thatch contemplates chucking the letter into the sea, but then he realizes he isn't sure Sabo wouldn't just dive after it, and as a devil fruit user, Thatch wouldn't be able to stop him from reading it underwater.

So he casually uncurls his fingers, watches Sabo visibly perk up--before Thatch opens a black hole in his palm, letting the crumpled paper get sucked into the void.

(Perhaps he should be using his power as more than a secure second dimension pocket expansion, but hey, so far it hasn't been so helpful in the kitchen.)

Sabo sags and sulks, rather cutely, Thatch thinks. "You coulda let me see it," he pouts, looking up at Thatch with an expression uncannily like Luffy's. Fuck.

"Collecting intel, Chief?" Thatch winks, expertly hiding his horror that for a moment, he'd actually been tempted. Little sneak.

"Perhaps." Something slightly manic enters his gaze, and alright, that's nothing like Seastar, not so cute after all...

"Nice try, but it's a personal family thing, can't really share," Thatch says, and it's not really a lie.

Sabo grunts, letting it go, before his gaze flicks to the gull, who still has a beakful of Thatch's sleeve. "It waiting for something?"

Thatch sighs. "Yeah, yeah, my response, which I should probably give..." Because, right, Thatch needs to send a message back to the Moby, even if no, he isn't going to answer Izo's idiotic question.

Which, is actually a fine excuse to extract himself from this situation.

"So, sorry, the response also is personal, hope you don't mind," Thatch nods, and Sabo easily opens the way for him--which, Thatch belatedly realizes, he'd actually been blocking. Scary, little Chief, scary...

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry." Sabo sounds genuinely apologetic, and tips his hat at Thatch as he passes by, and Thatch inwardly heaves a massive sigh of relief. "I'm working on it, but I know I can get a little...pushy, when it comes to things that involve my baby brother."

Thatch continues to walk away.

But inside...

Oh. Yikes, he thinks.

Thatch is in the privacy of the currently empty men's sleeping room beneath the deck, and has just finished writing and giving instructions and bribes to the gull when the hatch creaks open.

"Thatch, we're in trouble," Koala announces as she stomps down the stairs, making her sneaky opening of the door rather pointless.

"I noticed," Thatch says dryly.

Koala pales. "He didn't break any of your toes, did he?!"

"What."

"Well, you're a cook, you make food Luffy likes with your hands," Koala shrugs. "Just wanted to make sure."

"What the fuck."

"I don't think he will! You're Luffy and Ace's crew, and you're a Whitebeard pirate, but..."

Thatch groans. "I already thought your Chief might be trouble, but holy shit I didn't know he was that batshit."

"He might not be!" Koala sounds defensive, but it's not particularly comforting. "He's usually reasonable, kind of, but since his memories came back..."

Thatch throws up his arms. "So, how'd he get it out of you?"

Koala flushes. "I didn't say anything!"

"Sure."

"It's not my fault that Sabo's a damn--!"

There's a loud knock, before the hatch flings open, and Ace pops his head in. "Hey Thatch! What's for snack--"

"NOT AGAIN!" Koala cries.

At the same time, Thatch shouts, "IN A SECOND!"

Either way, the hatch slams shut with a, "SORRY!"

Thatch and Koala stare at each other with their hearts beating uncomfortably rapidly.

They slowly heave a slow sigh of relief as the tension drains.

"I really need to apologize to Ace," Thatch mutters.

"I really need to work on my Observation Haki," Koala groans.

"HEY THATCH, I WANT A SNACK," Luffy shouts, and Thatch and Koala's heads whip around in horror, only to sag with relief at seeing that Luffy's not in the room, but only for a second--

--because after that second, a mermaid's crashing through the hatch, ripping it from its hinges as she slams, hatch and all, into Thatch's chest.

The room fills with dust and debris, and there are shouts outside.

Koala gingerly peers into the wreckage where Thatch is now buried in the wall, a terrified blue gull perched on her shoulders peering alongside her, its claws digging through the fabric of her shirt.

"We're fine," Thatch coughs, peering down to make sure he'd successfully caught and shielded Luffy from damage, even as he peels himself from the wood. Luffy seems unharmed, though her eyes are wide; she clearly hadn't expected to do quite this much.

"...Armament?" Koala asks, noticing how the back of Thatch's hair is black from where it's fanned around him.

"Armament," Thatch agrees, keeping the entire back of his body coated until he's safely pulled himself and Luffy, still in his arms, away from any sharp wood.

"Sorry, Thatch," Luffy says, not particularly apologetic, if anything sort of curious. She peels herself back from his chest, scritching her cheek while looking down at what was once the hatch to the mens room that had shattered between them. She then reaches back to tug at Thatch's black locks, and oohs when they fade back to auburn.

"No worries, just make sure to make it up to Deuce and Usopp when they have to fix this," Thatch sighs, before grinning, letting his arms fall away from Luffy once he knows she has a secure grip on his shoulders. He then begins carding his fingers through her hair to make sure no splinters got in, and likewise dusting off the front of her vest, taking care not to let his touch linger. Luffy nods frantic agreement, more like rubs her head into his palm, and Thatch feels his heart skip a beat.

Koala sighs.

"Hey Thatch, what's this?"

Thatch blinks, then inwardly curses.

Luffy's holding Izo's crumpled piece of paper. His control of his power's still shoddy, and it must have accidentally spat it back out in the commotion.

Please, don't be able to read that, he prays. He luckily doesn't have much confidence in Luffy's reading abilities.

"It says 'what are her three sizes.' What are those?"

In the background, Koala slowly raises her fist.

A few days later, Marco's scouting when a blue gull rapidly approaches him.

Delivery! it squawks. Delivery for you, Boss, and don't show Izo! Don't show Izo! Don't show Izo or the bread man will be mad!

Thank you, noted, friend, Marco responds, and catches the note from Thatch in mid air.

The gull trills acknowledgement, then wheels away to rejoin its brethren, while Marco changes course for the nearest island, a safe forest haven in Pops's territory, still a ways away from the Moby. It's uninhabited, save for the wildlife, and it would be good to land once before returning home anyway.

Marco lands lightly on the tallest and oldest tree on the island, from where he can survey the island of pure greenery, and the endless blue stretching beyond. The branch he's chosen looks deceptively thin, but he already knows it can support his human weight, which is why he shifts, passing the note from his claw to his hand before completing his transformation.

Marco frowns. The other Commanders (and to be honest, the entire crew) have been acting a bit strange recently, but for Thatch, who isn't even on board with them, to also be in on it...

True, this may or may not be related to that at all. But still.

Marco feels like he's missing something.

Marco, Thatch's message starts, and Marco already knows it's going to be serious because it didn't start with a jibe at his appearance.

Marco, I think I'm actually serious about her. Thoughts, brother?

Her, meaning the Ace's little brother, the mermaid girl.

If Marco remembers correctly, in Thatch's first note back to him, he'd written, She's stolen my heart, I think I want to marry her.

Marco had assumed Thatch was joking at the time, or just light-heartedly flirting, as he always did. Marco's used to hearing Thatch spew these kinds of words, and he'd taken it to mean that the girl's exceptionally Thatch's type, but hadn't thought further.

The words had made him remember a little trinket he'd had stored in a chest at the back of his closet, one he'd received from an elderly couple on Fishman Island around two decades ago...

But that's not important now, Marco thinks, focussing on Thatch's message.

In all his years of flings and casual relationships and jokingly asking ladies (and some gents) Won't you marry me...Thatch has not once asked for Marco's opinion. He's certainly had plenty of opinions himself about whether someone would be a potential good match for Marco, which Marco always ignored. But Thatch has never asked Marco about matches for himself.

Thatch really is serious.

Marco finds himself slowly smiling. "Finally, you sap," he murmurs, though no one hears him but the other birds in the trees around him.

He knows he ought to think more about what to say, but the answer is so obvious that Marco takes Thatch's note, and carefully tears the paper so that his brother's words aren't damaged. Gently tucking Thatch's note into his pocket, Marco pulls out a pen for the remaining small blank strip of paper.

Shortly afterwards, two birds depart from the island, in opposite directions: one, a phoenix, wings burning cyan against the clear skies, and the other, a blue gull headed to Paradise.

Part 9, things start Moving as Sabo confronts Ace.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! And again, please do let me know if you actually like reading the story here on tumblr or not >.<;

As always, any comments are immensely appreciated and help motivate me to create more for this AU! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #Text headcanons #Thatch #AceLu #genderbend #I'm feeling really burned out in terms of posting schedule as expected #juggling Patreon-Tumblr-Twitter-AO3 is a bit much #so I'm trying to decide what's going on the chopping block bc rn it's my sanity ^ ^;

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rocksandrobots · 3 years

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 37 - Happy Birthday!

"What if we gave her some jewelry?" Varian asked. "Like a necklace and some matching earrings?"

Hiro shot the idea down. "Naw, she already has a whole jewelry box full of that stuff and she hardly ever wears it."

The two boys were standing in the lunch line at the cafeteria discussing what to get Aunt Cass for her birthday.

"Hmmm...what about a new cookbook, then?"

Once again Hiro turned the idea down. "Can't she just look up recipes on her phone?"

"Well then.. I don't know. Why don't you come up with something?" Varian huffed as he grabbed an apple off the bar.

"Ooookay. What about… something sentimental, like a hand made card?" Hiro suggested.

"That's lame."

"Is not. Listen, she'll cry her eyes out over it. Trust me."

"Oh come on, we're not four year-olds. We got money now, let's actually buy her something nice."

The two teens stopped in front of the salad bar where the head lunch lady was busy cutting up vegetables. They continued their debate while they waited on the container holding the salad to be refilled.

"Like what?" Hiro asked. "She hasn't said what she wanted, and I'm sure if there was anything she did want she could just go out and buy it herself."

Varian crossed his arms and cupped his chin in thought. Then his eyes fell on the elderly lunch lady, who was still busy preparing the salad.

"Hey Miss Itamae, I don't suppose you could give us any womanly insight into what a lady turning 37 might want for her birthday?"

The grumpy cafeteria worker didn't answer. She just glared at them both as she deftly sliced a head of lettuce in two. Then went back to cutting up more vegetables with practiced precision.

"You're sparkling conversation is delightful as always Miss Itamae." Hiro said deadpan.

"Hey, wait, no, that's it!" Varian nudged him excitedly. "We'll buy Aunt Cass some new kitchen knives!" He then turned back to the lunch lady with a smug smile. "Thank you for the idea, Miss Itamae. You're always so helpful."

The insincerity dripped from his voice like honey and Miss Itamae only pursed her lips in irritation as she began to chop the lettuce even more fiercely.

Hiro rolled his eyes. The, quite literally, unspoken feud between them and the head lunch lady had only ramped up these last two weeks. True, she had been a little too gleeful when she pulled out the pan of leftover Monday's Mystery Meatloaf to give them, after handing the last hot ham sandwich to Karmi right before them, but Varian antagonizing the woman with his phony politeness probably didn't help matters.

"Aunt Cass literally has several sets of chef knives. I think she, like, collects them at this point."

"Well what if we just expanded her collection then? Does she have a machete yet? Or perhaps one of those big butcher axes?"

Hiro narrowed his eyes at the other boy. "Are you serious? What would she want with a machete?"

Varian shrugged.

"Yeah, no." Hiro continued. "I doubt we could even legally buy one."

"Really? Man, you can't do anything in America." Varian sighed.

Hiro gave Varian another irritated look of disbelief, but before he could say anything else a voice shouted out to them.

"Clear the way! Look out!" Fred yelled.

He was barreling right towards them on a pair of roller skates; careening out of control.

He couldn't stop and both boys had to quickly scramble out the way. Miss Itamae was not so fortunate.

Fred hit the salad bar and toppled over the edge, sending the vegetables flying everywhere and knocking over the poor woman.

"Ooops. Hehe… my bad." Fred said sheepishly as the lunch lady stood back up with a salad bowl on top of her head, lettuce stuck in her hair net and a slice of tomato dripping off her nose.

Miss Itamae stared at him with flame in her eyes and seethed with gritted teeth. Fred tried to helpfully brush off the bits of vegetables that sat on her shoulders, but this only made her even more angry.

She hissed at him and Fred scurried back over the railing as quickly as possible before ducking down on the other side of the bar. He cautiously peaked his head up just long enough to watch the cafeteria lady storm off in a huff; presumably to go get a broom.

"Are those Gogo's skates?" Hiro asked once the lunch lady had left.

"Uh, yeah." Fred admitted guiltily.

"Does she know that you have them?" Varian asked.

Fred dodged the question "Ummm… maybe?"

"Do we even want to know what's going on?" Hiro asked in a weary manner.

"Hiro, as your friend," Fred said as he placed a bracing hand upon the other teen's shoulder, "I feel it's my sworn d- woah, duty to protect you. The less the two of you know the better." And with that solemn proclamation the skates gave out from under him and Fred flopped to the ground.

"In other words she doesn't know, and when she finds out she's going to kill you." Varian confirmed.

"'Kill' is such a strong word, ya know." Fred strained as he gripped the bar and hoisted himself back up.

Varian and Hiro exchanged confused glances and just shrugged.

Hiro sighed and decided to set the matter aside. "Well, Varian and I were just discussing what to get Aunt Cass for her birthday. Got any ideas?"

Fred hummed in thought as he gave the matter some consideration. "Well mom always wants to be taken out to some new fancy restaurant on her birthdays."

"Hey now there's an idea," Varian enthused. "We cook dinner for her!"

"Oh no, you are not fixing any more weird Coronian recipes." Hiro replied.

"Hey, my cooking isn't weird. Besides all you know how to make is cereal."

"Yeah, I'm not a chef, neither of us are."

Varian pouted at that but before he could respond Hiro continued on. "Look, why don't we take her out? It's something she doesn't get to do often and we could both split the bill, deal?"

"Well alright," Varian agreed, "at least it'll save us from having to do the dishes."

"Great!" Fred cheered. "I even know of a place you can take her. Mom loves it."

Just then Gogo burst through the cafeteria doors.

"Hey! Give me back my blades!" She yelled.

"Uh oh." Fred said and clumsily skated away as Gogo furiously ran after him.

"Come on, we better make sure she doesn't actually murder him." Hiro sighed as he started to run after them.

Varian followed, but paused long enough to cheekily wave goodbye to Miss Itamae, who had just finished cleaning up Fred's mess and was back to chopping vegetables once more.

"See ya, Miss Itamae."

The woman never answered back. Instead she just scowled at him as she menacingly held up her knife before slamming it back down hard upon a head of lettuce, severing it in two.

Varian gulped as he backed away and hurried out the door after his friends. Maybe they were pushing the little old woman too hard, he thought.

------------------------

"Are you sure it's not under Hamada?" Hiro asked the maître d' who stood at the front of the restaurant's door. "Then try Templeton."

No such luck.

"Hey, tell them to check under Quirinson." Varian nudged him.

Hiro, Varian, and Aunt Cass stood in line at the Aragosta; the fine dining place that Fred had helped them make reservations for. Only the host was having trouble finding said reservations.

"Okay, how about Quirinson?"

The host shook his head.

"Frederickson?" Hiro squeaked hopefully. The matradee frowned.

Hiro sighed in resignation as Aunt Cass gently scooted the boys out of the way of the other guests who were also waiting to get in.

"Hey, it's okay." She encouraged, "So they lost the reservations. It happens. We can go someplace else and still have tons of fun. How about karaoke instead?"

"Let me check back with Fred first, before we decide to leave." Hiro said as he pulled out his phone.

The phone went straight to voicemail and Hiro hung up in irritation. Things weren't going as planned.

Just then Krei, of all people, walked up next to them on the sidewalk. He was also on his cell phone and didn't seem to notice them.

"But mother, I had these reservations for weeks!" He complained. "Yes I know your annual fundraising event for Helpers Helping the Helpless is important…. Yes I understand that the juggling seals canceled last minute... but surely you could just hire a new act? Why, Judy, my secretary, she can juggle fire for ya, I mean how hard can it be if a dumb seal can do it, right?" He frowned as he listened to the other end of the call, and then sighed deeply, "Alright, you win, as always. Love you too, mother." And with that he hung up.

That's when Keri noticed their little group.

"Oh, uh, hi Cass. Intern. Intern's new cousin-brother-whatever... Fancy meeting you here."

He gave an awkward grin and rocked back and forth on his heels, like a school boy accidentally running into his crush at the mall.

Aunt Cass gave an equally awkward smile. "Hi, Alistair. Trouble with your date?" She joked.

"Oh well, you know mom. Lovely woman, but can't not take charge when there's a crisis." He nervously chuckled. "So what brings you to Aragosta's?"

"We're taking Aunt Cass out for her birthday." Varian replied.

"Oh, it's your birthday!? And here I didn't bring you a gift. Well, happy birthday, Cass. You look great tonight."

Aunt Cass blushed, "Oh well, thank you, but unfortunately the restaurant's lost our reservations, sooo…"

"So it looks like we'll just have to go elsewhere." Hiro interrupted. He gave Krei a hard glare as he tried to quickly shuffle away his aunt. "Bye, Krei."

"Oh now wait a minute," Keri stopped them, "You lost a reservation, and I got a table waiting for me that I'm not going to use anymore. Why not take my spot on the list?"

"Oh, that's nice of you Alistair, but-"

"No buts, I insist. Call it a birthday present."

Keri gave his most charming smile and Aunt Cass looked at the two boys questioningly. Varian enthusiastically nodded yes, while Hiro silently pleaded 'no' to her.

"Weeelll, if you insist." She agreed.

"Wonderful! I'll go square it with the matradee." And with that he hurried off to speak with the host.

"Aunt Cass, why?" Hiro whined as soon as the businessman was out of ear shot.

"Why not?" Varian spoke up. "He's giving us a free table. Just cause you don't like the gu-"

"Boys, boys," Aunt Cass interceded before an argument broke out. "Look, I know Alistair can be a little… hmm.. difficult to get along with sometimes, but he means well and this is a nice gesture. It'd be rude to turn it down."

With that final word Krei returned.

"You're all set. Table number five, and just tell the waiter to put the meal on my tab."

"We were going to pay." Hiro grumbled.

"Oh that's so cute," Krei laughed, "you boys, wanting to do something nice for your aunt. But seriously though, you'll have to take out a loan just to afford the hors d'oeuvres."

Varian raised a worried eyebrow while Hiro only gave an annoyed huff.

"Look this is my treat. Dinner is on me." Keri continued, "Just give the host up there my last name."

He then gave another awkward smile and waved goodbye before turning to leave.

Aunt Cass frowned and Hiro's stomach dropped as he realized what she was about to do. He tried to say no. He tried to speak reason with his aunt, but before he could stop her she was already calling after Krei.

"Oh, won't you join us?" She asked.

"Naw, I couldn't." He sheepishly kicked the ground.

"Good." Hiro said, but was completely ignored as Keri immediately followed up with a, "But if you insist."

He and Aunt Cass shared a smile as they stared into each other's eyes transfixed and Hiro could only let out groan.

------------------------

The lavish interior of the eatery was adorned with Tuscan columns, high vaulted ceilings, and expensive oil paintings that hung upon the walls depicting the ocean. The restaurant was known for its seafood and so there were also aquariums everywhere you looked, tucked away in the most unlikely of places.

Varian couldn't help but curiously stare at one particular aquarium lodged into the center of one of the columns. It didn't look like the most efficient place to house costly and rare tropical sea life to him, but hey, he wasn't a millionaire restaurateur, so what did he know?

The little party was seated near said column at a table covered in white linen and with gold plated cutlery already laid out upon it. They were then given menus bound in black leather by the waiter who was dressed to the nines in a tuxedo, complete with a bow tie.

Varian self consciously looked down at his own plain button down shirt and grey vest and felt hopelessly underdressed in comparison. This place was far more ostentatious than he had been unexpecting.

Well at least he had put more effort into his outfit than Hiro, who's idea of dressing up was to wear his black cargo shorts instead of his usual tan ones. Not that the other boy cared in the slightest. Hiro wasn't the least bit embarrassed about standing out in high society. He was too busy giving Krei the stink eye as the businessman flirted with Aunt Cass.

Varian rolled his eyes in dismissal of Hiro's petty disapproval of their aunt's choice in men and opened the menu. What he saw made his jaw drop.

"Ninety dollars for lobster!?" He sputtered. "Who pays nearly a hundred bucks for freakin' lobster?" He hissed at Hiro under his breath.

Hiro only shrugged, "Yeah, lobster is expensive. So what?"

"But it's lobster." Varian reiterated.

Hiro only stared at him blankly.

"You live right next to the ocean." Varian explained. "You can literally just walk down to the docks and catch yourself one to eat."

"Yeah, but who wants to do that."

"I would. I would much rather catch it and cook it myself than pay a hundred dollars for a lobster ." The disdain in his voice was evident.

"Yeah, but you're weird." Hiro quipped.

Varian gave him a hard look of annoyance, but Hiro only smugly smiled back; knowing full well that Varian wouldn't jump him in such an esteemed establishment with Aunt Cass right there looking on.

Varian grumbled under his breath and went back to looking at the menu. He was going to find at least one thing on here that didn't seem like a colossal waste of money, he swore it.

Back home, seafood was one of cheapest meats you buy at the market. Freshwater or salt, it didn't matter, anyone could catch a fish. Shellfish in particular were deemed low class.

In fact boiled lobster tail was one of the few proteins he could eat in prison. Every once in a while the chef would feed it to them as a 'treat'. But that was only because no one else in the castle wanted it.

He shook the memory away as he tried to calm himself. Never again was he going back to gruel and stale bread; and if he wanted a lobster for dinner, he was sure as heck going to fix it himself the way he liked it and not have to beg for it from anybody!

Aunt Cass and Keri, however, did not notice Varian and Hiro's discussion involving lobsters. They were completely engrossed with each other, giggling over some in-joke that only they two shared. Hiro had gone back to sulking while eyeing the adults disapprovingly.

The tension was only dispersed when the waiter returned to take their orders. Krei rattled off a ridiculously intricate and flamboyant entrée as a suggestion and Aunt Cass agreed to try it. Hiro ordered the most expensive thing he could find on the menu, just to spite Keri, and Varian chose the steak.

"Well it looks like it'll be a while before dinner arrives, so I'm just going to go powder my nose. Be right back." Aunt Cass excused herself.

As soon as she was out of sight Hiro lunged at Keri.

He grabbed the older man by the shirt collar and held up his fork up menacingly.

"Okay, spill it Keri! What are you up to?" He ordered.

"Nothing." The man insisted. "Can't a guy do something nice for once?"

"Not when the guy is you he can't." Hiro said. "Aunt Cass dumped you, remember? It's over."

"Wait, they used to date?" Varian asked, clueless as to what was happening.

"One date," Keri corrected, "and no I'm not trying to get back together with your aunt. Honest."

Hiro eyed him suspiciously and Keri met his gaze steadily. Finally, Hiro relented and let go of the other guy's shirt.

"Then what do you want?" He asked, confused.

"I want your aunt to have a good birthday. Nothing more. So can we please just have a nice dinner without any more threats, or revenge plots hatched by disgruntled employees, or any other weird superhero-y stuff going on?"

Hiro reluctantly sat back down in silent agreement and that was when Aunt Cass returned. Soon thereafter the food arrived and dinner proceeded smoothly for the rest of the night.

------------------------

"I tell ya work has been a nightmare since production started on this new phone line." Keri complained. "I'm at the office everyday it seems like."

"Oh I hear you," Aunt Cass agreed. "The Luck Cat has been swamped for weeks now. I haven't had a day off in almost a month."

Dinner was over and the little group stood outside waiting on their rides. The two boys looked on as the adults chatted. Aunt Cass and Keri had barely stopped conversing with each other the whole night and even Varian was starting to feel just a little left out.

But he had little right to be. When did Aunt Cass get the chance to just hang out with people her age and have fun? By her own admission she was usually either at work all day or taking care of them.

"Sounds like you could use a break." Keri said. "Oooh, crazy idea, I got a membership to a spa retreat up in Napa. They got hot springs and a killer buffet. I'm too busy to go right now, but I can schedule you a trip. You could bring a friend and have a weekend off. What do you say."

"Weeell I don't know... I mean it's tempting, don't get me wrong, but I got the café to take care of and who'll look after the boys?" Aunt Cass said.

"Well surely they're old enough to be on their own for a few days, and I can be on hand if they need anything."

"We can manage the café if you want to go to Aunt Cass." Varian chimed in, happy to help.

Hiro nudged him the ribs, hard.

Aunt Cass pouted and then forlornly shook her head.

"You sure?" Keri asked. "Cause it's no trouble to me. It's the least I can do after.. well, after what happened last time."

Aunt Cass raised an eyebrow and Keri held his hands up defensively.

"I'm not trying to ask you out again. Honest. I know that ship has sailed, and I also know that it was my fault. I just would like to apologize that's all."

"Oh Alistair, you don't need to buy me expensive things just to say 'I'm sorry'. "Aunt Cass smiled warmly at him before continuing on. "But the answer is still no. I just can't right now, not with everything that's going on."

"Well alright, but if you change your mind just give my secretary, Judy, a call. She'll arrange everything." And with that Keri handed Aunt Cass a business card and got into his limo which had just pulled up.

He waved goodbye to everyone before driving away.

------------------------

"I think you should have taken Keri up on his offer." Varian said as they returned to the Luck Cat.

"Why, just so he can try and weasel his way back into Aunt Cass's life?" Hiro grumbled under his breath.

However, Aunt Cass heard him anyways. "Hey now, I can take care of myself, thank you very much." She admonished him. "But no, I'm not going. There's too much to do around here."

"Oh come on, I can look after the caf�� for a few days." Varian insisted.

"And who's going to look after you?" Aunt Cass asked.

Varian looked hurt by that reply. "We can take care of ourselves."

"Oh like how you took care of my toaster?"

"That was an accident, and I put out the fire."

"Umm hmm, and the alarm clock?"

"I fixed it, and it works even better now."

"..and the dishwasher."

Varian opened his mouth to argue but then shut again quickly as he really had no excuse for that particular mishap. They were still finding pieces of broken china to this day.

Hiro snickered at their argument as he reached down under the counter to grab a donut.

The food he had ordered at the restaurant was some weird seafood monstrosity made of jellyfish, kelp, fish eggs, squid tentacles and other unidentifiable fishy bits and bobs. Rich people were weird, was all he had thought as he picked at his meal all night. He was still half starved.

"Oh laugh it up, mister 'I never wash a dish'." Varian shot back.

"I've cleaned dirty dishes before." Hiro said with his mouth full.

"Boys…" Aunt Cass groaned, ending their argument. "Look, I know things have been stressful these last few weeks, what with finals, and the café being busy… and well, everything else, but we can get through this if we stick together, as a family, and not have anymore petty squabbles."

She wrapped an arm around Varian's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze as she smiled.

The 'everything else' comment didn't go unnoticed by the two teens. Ever since Varian had come to live with them life had been turned upside down inside the Hamada home, in more ways than one, and while everyone was trying their best to adjust, there was still clearly friction over minor things, like chores and little mishaps here and there.

"That's why you should Aunt Cass." Varian insisted. "Finals end next week for us, but the café is still going to be busy no matter what. Why not let me and Hiro run the Luck Cat for a weekend? We can get along for just two days, surely."

"And we can call Chief Cruz if anything goes wrong." Hiro piped in.

Aunt Cass raised an eyebrow "I thought you didn't want me to go?"

"I just don't think you should fool with Keri, but of course, I'm all for you taking a break. Varian's right, you deserve a rest and a few days' of fun."

"Well, I mean, I could ask Tracy what she's up to next weekend, I guess…gee I haven't seen Trace in awhile..." Aunt Cass said as she mulled over their proposal.

"Who's Tracy?" Varian asked.

"She's Aunt Cass's roommate from college." Hiro answered.

"Ah…" Varian nodded in realization, but as soon as he was done Aunt Cass snapped out of her wishful reprieve.

"Oh no, I couldn't. It's too last minute. Besides I can still have fun here with you two." She flashed them a huge grin before walking upstairs.

Hiro ran after her, with Varian following behind. "Well in that case, you can open your presents then." He said.

"More presents?" She asked with a smile as she sat in her favorite comfy chair in the living room.

"Yup!" Hiro said as Varian brought out a gift bag that was hidden in his room, and Baymax, having heard his humans return home, came down the stairs carrying a wrapped box with a bow on top.

"Oh boys, you shouldn't have." She said.

"For you Aunt Cass. Happy Birthday." Baymax said in his usual clipped voice.

"Honey Lemon, Gogo, and Wasabi helped me pick something out for you."

"Oh how nice of them." Aunt Cass exclaimed as she opened up the gift. It was a cute apron with a matching headband and dish towel. In the pocket of the apron was a little booklet of printed recipes that Baymax had downloaded.

"See I told you that a cookbook was a good idea." Varian whispered to Hiro. The other boy shushed him.

"Oh thank you Baymax. I love it." Aunt Cass said as she flipped through the book. As she was reading Mochi, curled up in her lap.

"Do you have a birthday gift for me too, Mochi." She cooed at the cat as she scratched under its chin. The cat of course gave no answer other than a purr.

"I doubt he does, but I think Ruddiger made you something." Varian said in all seriousness.

With that the raccoon popped his head up over the top of the chair, startling Aunt Cass. The forest creature gave her an affectionate nuzzle, causing her to laugh, before jumping down and running off.

Only to immediately return dragging something along the ground with it's mouth.

Once the raccoon had made it back to the chair, it turned around and lifted the thing up with it's paws, as if offering it to her.

It was a plate, and on the plate was an apple inside a cupcake liner with whipped cream swirled on top and a single lighted candle stuck in the center.

"Ooooh how adorable!" She laughed.

"Make a wish!" Varian insisted.

She did and blew out the single candle easily.

"An apple cupcake; oh how did you ever come up with such a clever idea?" She asked of Varian.

"Oh I didn't. It was all Ruddiger. I saw him in the kitchen earlier today putting it together."

This gave Aunt Cass pause. Raccoons were smart, true, but the idea of one actually cooking was ridiculous. But the sheer earnestness of Varian's comment left her confused as to if he was pulling her leg or not.

Ruddiger for his part, looked as proud as he could be, for a raccoon, as he crawled up Varian's back and perched himself on the boy's arm.

"I guess he figured you'd enjoy the same stuff he likes. Oh and don't worry I rescued the cool whip can from him before he could eat the rest."

Aunt Cass tried very hard to keep the smile on her face as the news of the wild creature rummaging in her food stores, again, was made known. She gave a tense laugh, "Well I hope the kitchen is clean by tomorrow before the rush."

The implication in her voice was not lost on Varian. "Already done." He chirped and Aunt Cass sighed in relief.

"There's one more present." Hiro said as he took the gift bag from Varian. "It's from the both of us."

A lump formed in Aunt Cass's throat as she pulled out the gift. It was a framed photograph, of all three of them hugging.

"I had Baymax snap the photo earlier so you wouldn't notice and had prints made." Hiro explained.

"And I bought the frame so you could hang it up." Varian added.

She couldn't stop the tears from flowing as she choked back her gratitude. Instead she excitedly jumped up and ran around the room looking for the perfect place to put it. T'was a difficult task as she already had so many photos scattered throughout the home.

Finally she decided to hang it up on the wall next to the staircase, right alongside an earlier family portrait, this one depicting Tadashi as a young kid and Hiro not much older than a baby.

"I love it." She finally said through her tears, as she stepped back to admire it. "It's the best birthday present I've ever gotten."

The two boys walked over to join her and she wrapped them in a hug that mirrored the one in the picture.

------------------------

Hiro carried the tray full of dishes into the cafe's back kitchen. He placed the heavy load onto the counter and let out a sigh. He then took a moment to gather himself before heading back out into the fray.

The Lucky Cat was packed today; more so than usual. He had volunteered to help out now that his final project was done ahead of schedule, only for them to get slammed with a bus load of tourists in the first 10 mins of opening, on top of the regular customers who usually ate breakfast there.

No good deed goes unpunished; he dryly thought.

Just then Aunt Cass walked into the kitchen as well.

"Phew, it's like a madhouse out there. Have you seen Varian this morning? I know I told him he could have the day off, but I might have to ask him for a rain check on that."

Hiro shook his head. The other boy had left before sunrise, leaving only a text that he was going down to the pier. For what reason though, Hiro could only guess.

He didn't have to wonder for long however, for Varian returned at that moment.

"I didn't!" He sang as he burst through the back door carrying a small wooden crate in one hand.

"Did what?" Hiro asked.

"I caught a lobster." Varian eagerly replied. "See?" And with that he held up the fisherman's trap close to Hiro, who jumped back when a claw emerged from between the gaps in the wooden planks and snapped at him.

Unfortunately there wasn't anywhere to run to and so Hiro wound up crawling onto the counter to escape the creepy creature that Varian teased him with.

Hiro wasn't the only one in the household who didn't care for the lobster either. Ruddiger popped out of the storage cabinet he had been hiding in and crawled up upon Hiro's shoulder and hissed at the invading new animal.

This did not make Hiro any more

comfortable.

Varian though was blissfully grinning ear to ear, too proud of his accomplishment to notice or care about their disapproval.

"I caught him this morning. He's got to be at least 16, no 17, pounds! I've never seen one so big. He barely fits into my homemade fishing crate."

"That's great sweetie," Aunt Cass said with a strained smile, "what are you going to do with him? Have lobster thermidor for supper?"

Varian's smile deflated somewhat as he sheepishly tried to explain to Aunt Cass the circumstances that he found himself in.

"Well that was the plan when I went out fishing this morning, buuut, I kind of, sort of, named him."

And with that admission he hugged the crate as if cuddling a kitten.

This proved to be a bad idea though. As the lobster did not like to be cuddled. It turned its claws to snap at Varian instead who dropped the crate in surprise. The fishing trapped shattered and broke apart upon hitting the ground, freeing the creature inside. Then before anyone could stop it, the overgrown crustacean scurried out the swinging doors and into the café.

"Lorenzo!" Varian called out after it as he ran to catch it once more.

Both Hiro and Aunt Cass stood there dumbstruck as the screams of customers and loud clattering noises, that sounded suspiciously like china breaking, could be heard through the other side of the door.

Hiro snagged a weary sidelong glance at his aunt wondering what she might do. All she did was just stand there, wide eyed, unblinking, with shocked dread upon her face.

The clean up of this mess was going to be a nightmare. She'd probably have to spend hours refunding customers, apologizing profusely to them, and practically begging them not to give her a bad rating online.

Hiro took pity on her, and fished out Keri's business card and her phone out of her purse which was hung up on the coat rack by the back door.

"Here," he said as he handed the phone and card to her, "maybe you should take up that offer." Then he also ran back into the café to help Varian catch the wayward lobster.

On his way out the door he heard Aunt Cass say over the phone, "Hello, is this Judy? Hi I was calling back about the spa…"

#varian #Hiro Hamada #krei #big hero six #tangled #bh6 #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #big hero 6 the series #of rocks and robots #aunt cass

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the-singlest-pringle · 3 years

Text

A Sweet Song

Prompt 5 of Surprise from this list: "You got this for me?"

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin.

Read it here on AO3.

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin. “Not common knowledge” meaning there were only four people that knew: Max, Neil, Old Lady Garcia, and his music teacher from California, Ms. Petrov. Neil was never meant to find out, but after word of Billy’s first (and last) performance got out, Neil smashed his violin, along with his left hand. It wasn’t long after that when Neil caught Billy with a boy. Neil lost his shit, nearly beating Billy to death, then he packed up the whole family in less than a week and moved them to the boondocks.

It was now April, meaning it was nearly his birthday and also that it would be six months since he last touched a violin. The first few months without his violin were the hardest. Billy swore that he was going through withdrawal. His hands yearned for the violin, fingers itching to play. He longed to wrap his fingers around the neck, to slide his bow across the strings, and carefully finger out some Paganini. Billy would drive to the quarry and listen to his stash of classical music. One time he actually broke down because of it. His heart ached for his violin as he cried out in mourning.

Now that it’s been six months, he’s had time to adjust. He still gets that itch when his emotions are high, but Harrington helps quell his hunger. In fact, dating Harrington had been the best thing to happen to Billy in a long time. He was kind, caring, and provided the support that Billy desperately needed yet woefully lacked. He took care of Billy when he was hospitalized because of Neil (again) and was there for him when Neil lost custody and Hopper took him in. Billy was convinced that he loved Harrington, which is why he decided to add Harrington to the list of people that knew his secret.

It was a normal night, the Party gathering at the Wheeler’s for another Dungeons and Dragons campaign, when Billy said (out of nowhere), “You know, I used to play the violin.”

He and Steve had gone upstairs to grab more snacks, so they were alone in the kitchen. Steve was already attempting to balance two boxes of cookies and three bags of chips in his arms when he heard Billy. He started to clumsily juggle and drop the snacks while stuttering out a surprised “What? Are you serious?”

Billy chuckled at Steve’s shock. “Yeah, I am. I even performed at Royce Hall back in Cali once.”

“Bee, that’s amazing!” Steve exclaims as he crouches down to collect the snacks. “How come I’m just finding out about this now?”

“Well, only five people know about it, including you. And I felt that since we’ve been together long enough, you deserve to know everything about me, which means knowing that I play the violin,” Billy explains before quickly correcting himself with a, “Well, used to play.”

“You don’t anymore?” Steve asked.

“Nah. My old man made me stop when he found out.” Billy flexes the fingers of his left hand as he says this. “I played for nearly ten years in secret. I would tell my dad I had clubs after school, but instead, I would go to the music room and play.” He clenches his hand as he continues. “When Neil found out, he took a hammer to my violin, then to my hand to make sure I would stop.”

Steve sighed at the mention of Neil, making his way across the kitchen to take Billy’s hands in his. “Your dad is a dick and I hate everything he put you through.” He pushes a lock of hair out of Billy’s face and tilts up his chin so that they’re making eye contact. “I am so glad that you’re out of that situation and that you don’t ever have to deal with Neil again. I love you so much, okay?” Steve plants a kiss on Billy’s forehead for emphasis before Billy pulls Steve closer and practically smashes their lips together.

Billy smiles into the kiss, whispering out, “I love you, too,” before they’re interrupted by a familiar shrill voice that causes them to pull apart.

“Ugh! You guys are so gross !” Max says from the kitchen entryway. She was the only member of The Party that knew about Steve and Billy. Max made it a thing to point out how gross their PDA was, which she named DAFM (Displays of Affection in Front of Max).

“Yeah, shitbird? Well, you stink,” Billy quips.

“I do not, booger face!” Max retaliates.

“Carrot top!”

“Stupidhead!”

“Half-pint!”

“Shortstop!”

Billy gasps dramatically and feigns offense. “I am not short!”

Max rolls her eyes at that. “Tell that to every guy we know!”

“I’m literally taller than Jonathan,” Billy defends.

“That doesn’t count!”

Steve just sits back and laughs at the two siblings quarreling before intervening when the volume reaches near screaming level. “Alright, alright. Break it up, you two. You’re both shorter than me and that’s all that matters. Now can we head back downstairs?”

“Ugh. Fine, ” Billy and Max say in unison. Max makes her way downstairs as Billy and Steve gather the snacks.

Billy steals a kiss from Steve before they head down the stairs, Billy announcing his presence with a “‘Sup, fuckers? What’d we miss?”, earning him a smack to the arm from Steve. They settle into the couch, a comfortable distance apart, as the rest of The Party continues playing DND.

The next time Billy playing the violin is mentioned is during Billy’s birthday party. It’s a pretty lively event considering Billy had next to no one just months ago. But now he has a family and friends, all of which have gathered to celebrate him. Just thinking about it makes him smile.

Billy is about halfway through opening gifts when he comes across a rather large box. It’s covered in sheet music wrapping paper with a bow on top. Curiously, he shakes the box, causing Harrington to say “Careful! It’s fragile,” revealing that it’s from him.

Knowing the size of the box, the wrapping paper, and the person who gave the gift, it doesn’t take long for Billy to piece together what it is.

“No… no way,” Billy says while frantically tearing the wrapping paper off the box. That earns him a chorus of people asking what it is and a smile from Harrington. “I swear to god, Harrington, if this is a joke…”

Billy slides the case out of the box, unzipping it then opening it slowly. He stares for a few seconds, not fully comprehending what he’s seeing. Staring back at him is a brand new violin. The rest of The Party is eager to see the contents of the case, but all Billy can focus on is the instrument in front of him.

“You got this for me?” Billy asks, still not believing what he’s seeing. Steve nods in assent.

Before Steve can register what’s happening, he’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug from Billy to everyone’s surprise. The Party’s confusion only multiplies when they see that a violin is what caused Billy to hug Harrington. When Billy pulls away, he looks like he’s so happy that he might cry. Steve is sure that he almost does.

“Thank you so much, Steve. I- I don’t even know what to say.” Billy is stumbling over his words, so overcome with emotions. Back in October, he was so sure that he would never touch a violin again, but now that he’s free from Neil, he can do whatever he wants. And what he wants right now more than anything is to play.

Billy slowly takes the violin out of the case. He puts the shoulder rest on the instrument and rosins the bow a bit. Billy looks up nervously at Steve, silently asking for assurance. Steve smiles at him and gestures to the center of the rug as if to say “go ahead”. Billy can feel all eyes on him when he stands up. He doesn’t even know if his fingers healed properly, but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to play. So he gets up into position, takes a breath, closes his eyes, and starts playing.

The whole Party is in awe as they watch. It’s clear that Billy puts every emotion into how he plays. His fingers dance gracefully across the neck of the violin while his right arm moves the bow fluidly across the strings. His tone is practically perfect. An untrained ear wouldn’t be able to tell that he hadn’t played in over six months.

When Billy finishes, the whole room is silent before Joyce starts clapping. Then everyone joins in, Max leading a standing ovation. Billy blushes, embarrassed by the attention, but smiles at the praise, happy people enjoy him playing just as much as he does. When everyone finishes clapping, Billy is bombarded with questions and praises.

“Oh my god, that was amazing!”

“Since when did you start playing the violin?”

“What song was that?”

“How come you never told anyone?”

“I can’t believe that Billy Hargrove just played violin in my living room!”

Billy laughs out several “thank you”s as he puts the violin away in its case. “I started playing when I was seven,” Billy starts to explain. “The piece I just played is called ‘Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61’ by Camille Saint-Saëns, and I never told anyone because of Neil.” The Party didn’t know the details of his situation with Neil, but gossip spreads quickly in a small town, so they knew Neil lost custody for some reason.

“Sweetheart, you played beautifully,” Joyce praised.

“You really did,” Lucas agrees, which surprises Billy.

“Could you play something else?” Dustin asks, exciting a chorus of agreements.

Billy doesn’t know if anyone besides Ms. Petrov has asked him to play. He’s still getting over the shock of it all. But he agrees. So he takes out his violin again. His violin. And he plays for The Party. He plays all night long, playing Bach to Beethoven, and even some rock songs. He plays until his out-of-practice fingers cramp. He plays because he’s happy. Billy feels fulfilled as ever with his friends and family around him, with Steve by his side, and with a violin in his hand.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #harringrove #harringrove fic

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holy-stevie · 4 years

Text

Birthdays

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The 4th of July was always a special day to your little family.

Warnings: fluff, angst, character death.

Word Count: 2.8k

a/n: this just popped into my head after watching my friends edit of steve!

Masterlist

Please do not repost my work anywhere else!

You can’t remember ever sleeping in on the morning of July 4th. From a very young age you would wake at the crack of dawn to the icy eyes of Bucky Barnes smiling at you, pulling you out of bed and impatiently chatting away on the other side of your bedroom door as you got dressed as fast as you could.

“Come on y/n! we have to get down to the docks AND back before he wakes up!” Bucky exclaims from behind the door, knocking on it rapidly when you don’t reply to him. You throw the door open with an annoyed expression, but Bucky pays no mind to it, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the house.

The dirty streets of Brooklyn were just waking up as the two teenagers run down the pavement, Bucky twisting and turning with your hand still in his to avoid the few rare early birds out for a morning walk. You smile as the sun hits the excited blue eyes in front of you, holding the same type of joy you did at the occasion.

The small market at the edge of the docks was already bustling with people, Bucky blames it on your lack of not waking up earlier which makes you push him lightly before running over to the stall you knew held the thing Steve desired the most. The young woman behind the stall grins at your excited smile, already turning to gather the small bundle of things you needed.

“Well hello miss y/n, late today, aren’t you?” She laughs lightly at Bucky’s annoyed huff, turning back around to face the two of you holding two small brown packages. She hands the items plus the extra present to you as Bucky slaps the coins down and rushes off, grabbing your hand again to pull you out of the market with a rush, barely giving the chance to say goodbye.

“Buck you gotta slow down, I’m gonna drop these!” You say with a laugh, juggling the two small boxes. He quickly grabs the slightly bigger package that was his present to Steve with a grin before yanking you into a run again, making you smile as you run though the streets with your best friend. By the time the two of you were standing at the front door to the Rogers residence you were panting and sweating, trying to grin at a very amused Sarah Rogers as she opened the front door.

“He’s still asleep, try not to give him a heart attack this year?” she asks as she closes the door behind the pair of you, the both of you letting out grins as you quietly rush into his room. Bucky very stealthily lays down besides Steve, motioning for you to stand behind him.

“Stevie.” You say gently, your soft voice making his nose scrunch, Bucky boops his nose gently making you cover your mouth to hide your giggles before continuing.

“Stevie wake up.” You say again, this time his eyes open.

“Buck what the hell??” He says and shoves Bucky off the side of the bed, knocking you to the floor with him. Steve peers over the side of the bed at you and Bucky in a fit of laughter on the floor of his bedroom.

“I hate both of you so much.” He groans flopping back into his pillows. Bucky springs up and shoves the present in Steve’s face, a big boyish grin on his face as his best friend takes the present delicately and unwraps it, a manly hug shared at the new set of pencils. You shove Bucky to the side and sit next to Steve, cuddling into his side as you hand him the much smaller box.

“My favourite chocolates? Y/n these are so expensive.” He says, throwing his small arm around you as you grin up at him.

“That ain’t all Stevie.” You say as you grab the flower from behind you, placing it gently in his hands. Steve had told you last summer that sunflowers were his favourite thing to draw, they captivated him in a strange way. His eyes light up as he twirls the flower gently in his fingers, giving you the brightest smile, you’ve seen from him in a while.

Bucky makes kissy noises when Steve pulls you into a crushing hug, making you and Steve pull away from each other with blushing expressions.

“Happy Birthday punk!” Bucky almost yells as he stands and jumps on the bed, laughing loudly when you grab the bottom of your dress and join him in the jumping, the sounds of your laughter echoing in Steve’s childhood bedroom.

“To this punks’ birthday!” Bucky exclaims, raising his mug of beer and sloppily clinking it against yours. Steve just sighs at Bucks lack of control over his intake of boos, he himself never indulging himself in a glass because there were too many risks.

“So y/n, sad that your best guy is going away?” Bucky says. You almost frown, the worry of Bucky being drafted had been eating away at you ever since he showed you the letter. But instead you grin and lean your head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Steve ain’t going anywhere.” You laugh when Bucky pouts and places his hand over his heart like he had been wounded, his dramatics even making Steve laugh, which was rare these days.

“Well if that’s how you feel ‘m gonna go find a pretty dame to spend my time with.” He says, placing his mug on the bar. He presses a small kiss to your forehead and slaps Steve’s shoulder before mingling into the crowd, winning the attention of a girl within minutes.

“Walk me home?” You ask Steve with a smile, he nods and grabs his jacket, holding out his arm for you to grab like the gentleman he is. As the two of you are walking arm in arm down the street, talking about the future, Steve goes quiet.

“What is it Steve?” You ask, holding your arm out now with a small smile.

“I won’t ever get a dame like Bucky does.” He says, your heart aches at the sadness lacing into his tone.

“Why do you think that?” You ask with a frown, your walk slowing down to a slower pace.

“Look at me y/n, no dame will want to have a family with me.” He says, anger and self-hatred lacing his voice now making you stop and grab his arm to face you.

“You listen to me Steve, the girl who marries you will be the luckiest gal in the world. She’ll love you for you, for the stubborn punk who doesn’t like bullies, for the kind gentleman who knows how to treat a dame with respect, for the chocolate addict in you. She’ll love you for all the good qualities Steve, and I know she’ll come along soon.” You say determinedly, not looking away from his eyes once.

“You really know how to impress a fella huh?” He jokes with a big smile, you return his smile and hook your arms together continuing your walk home.

“Have to make sure I treat my best guy right.” You joke, laughing along with Steve not a worry present in both of you for the rest of the night.

An illegal enlistment, a super solider serum pumped into both of your bodies, Nazis, Peggy Carter, and a falling plane is the events that lead to you sitting on the roof of the avenger’s tower in 2012. The sun is just rising over the horizon, the bright beams not bothering you in the slightest as you hear heavy footsteps approach you.

“I knew I’d find you up here.” Steve says as he takes a seat next to you, shoulders and thighs touching yours, as he looks out at the sun with you.

“It seems like tradition to wake up this early.” You mumble trying desperately not to think of the missing member of your little family. Steve doesn’t say anything as the two of you continue watching the city wake up, not moving until the sun was fully in the sky. You turn to Steve with two things in your hands, his ridiculously expensive chocolates and a single sunflower.

Steve smiles down at the presents, they hadn’t changed all these years and he’s never gotten sick of it. It was always the highlight to his day, getting these from you.

“These chocolates are still too overpriced.” He mumbles, opening up the packet and offering you one which you take and nibble on.

“Let me spoil you Stevie.” You say, leaning into him like you do quite often, especially in this new and unfamiliar place. The two of you are quiet, almost hearing the echoes of Bucky’s teasing kissing noises or overdramatic hugs.

“It’s not the same without him.” Steve says, his voice cracking on the last word making tears rise in your own eyes. You both try to stay in control of your grief but when a sob croaks out from your throat Steve slings his muscular arm around you, pulling you into his warm side as you both cry over your loss.

The both of you had been thrown into duty as soon as you were awoken from the icy sleep, not giving yourselves the proper chance to cry over all the friends you both lost, especially Bucky who fell from the clutches of Steve’s hands. You had woken Steve up several nights after he would wake you, screaming for him, he’d always stare at his hands for hours, looking for the flaw that failed his best friend, his brother.

“He’d tell you to stop sulking on your birthday.” You say, wiping your eyes and trying to lighten the mood. Steve just rolls his eyes, as he always did when Bucky would tell Steve off for being sad on his birthday, “It’s your day Stevie! There’s no room for sulking here.”He’d always say, pulling you and Steve into his arms into a big sweaty hug under the summer sun.

“I can almost hear it in my head.” He says, laughing lightly as you both talk about Bucky’s excitement for this day, every year it was always there in full force, making sure his best friend had the best day possible. You and Steve’s laughs echoing on the roof, a third laugh there with you in spirit.

The accords dragged your second family apart, they dragged you and Steve apart. A fight between the avengers surprisingly found you at the side of Tony Stark, a knot in your throat as two pairs of blue eyes glare at you from across the airport. When you were confronted with the two people you valued the most in the world, you let them pass to the quintet, not looking at them as they looked at you with angry and confused expressions.

When you were arrested for aiding Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes the rest of the remaining avengers were looking at you with confusing expressions, half of them glaring at your betrayal and the other half sharing your fear of the raft. The cold cell was small and quiet, the occasional soft words from Sam trying to reassure Wanda that Steve wouldn’t leave her here.

Steve stared at you from behind the bars, his eyes hard and his jaw tight. He has gotten everyone else out, they were all lead to the jet by Nat, giving Steve the decision to save you or leave you.

“Is he okay?” You ask, not getting up from where you were sitting in the corner, the collar around your neck cutting off your ability to heal from the several bruises you had suffered getting into this cell.

“Yes. No thanks to you.” He says, his voice clipped and demanding. You press your lips together knowing that he had every right to be mad at you, every right to leave you to rot in this cage. You just simply nod, looking at Nat behind him who gave him a nod signalling that they needed to go. Steve turns, not giving you a second glance as he starts walking away.

“Your duffle bag, second pocket.” You say loudly for him to hear, he hesitates for a second before continuing out the door. You feel the knot in your throat escape in a soft cry as your heart breaks with your own betrayal.

Steve,

I know you won’t forgive me for a long time, maybe never but I had to do it. I love Bucky and I never wanted to fight opposite the two of you, but I’ve brought to much death to this world. I can’t sit back and watch innocent civilians die for the fate of the world, I can’t go home and pretend it didn’t happen anymore.

It was never about sides, you and Tony need to get your egos checked one day, it was about doing right for the world Steve. I would have helped you clear Bucky’s name, helped the world see that he is an innocent man. I hope you make sure Bucky is safe out there, from others and from himself.

Take care of yourself Steve, draw me some sunflowers? Don’t forget that you are important too, that no matter how many sit ups you can do that you are still my little Stevie Rogers who fights for those who can’t. Take care of yourself for me Steve, even if I’ve failed you I don’t want you to ever fail yourself. Stay safe Steve.

Love, Y/N.

It was another normal day, the cell walls mocking you with their threatening clutches, the too tight collar reminding you that you are useless. It was a normal day until the guard outside of your cell disintegrated, turned into dust out of nowhere. You frown and stood up shakily, whipping your head back and forth to study the room. How did he disappear like that? As you look down you see your hands are gone, you shriek and fall back. A terrified whimper escaping your lips as the rest of your body starts to fade away, numbing you lightly.

“Steve...” a soft whisper. Your eyes snap open with gasp, the lights in the cell are turned off, as if there was no power. Your hands rip free of the chains and you rip the now dead collar off of your neck as you stand, looking around outside the cell. Where was everyone? What happened?

You were sitting in the dark for three days before you finally saw another person, the metal limb ripping the cell door off with a powerful yank. Bucky Barnes lets out a sigh of relief as he kneels down next to you, pulling you into him in a tight hug as he finally frees you from the small cage that had been your home for two years, seven actually but you didn’t know that yet.

The bright beams from the sun make your eyes water from exhaustion, the tug of sleep straining at you as you watch the sun rise over the horizon once again. You had been waiting for it all night as you twirled the sunflower in your hand, waiting for Bucky to wake up so the two of you could go.

“And here I thought you hated waking up this early.” Bucky says from behind you, like you he’s fully dressed knowing that you wanted to leave as early as possible. You stand up, stretching your stiff muscles before grabbing your jacket from the chair, not saying a word as Bucky drives the two of you to your destination.

You sit in the soft grass, not caring that it’s wet. The fresh dirt and brand-new gravestone making your heart numb with grief. Bucky sits next to you, clutching your hand in his tightly as you both stare at the dirt that holds your best friend.

Steven Grant Rogers

Beloved Hero, Husband, Father.

1918-2024

You shakily lean forward and lay the sunflower in the dirt, brushing away the few clips of grass. You don’t try to hide the tears as you stare at his name. It had been two months since he died, after going back to live his life fully with Peggy Carter. Your heart clenches at the thought of him, the last you had seen him he was dying in a hospital bed, not remembering who you were. Not remembering who he was.

“Happy Birthday Stevie.” You mumble out as you press a soft hand to the grave stone before leaning back into Bucky’s side, trying to keep yourself together as Bucky says his own birthday wishes before the two of you walk away hand in hand, leaving the sunflower laying in the dirt of your most loved Stevie.

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr @chrisevans-imagines @patzammit @onetwo3000 @yoncevans @harrysthiccthighss @sleepycevans @adriannajackson @donutloverxo

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #f*ck endgame steve #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #chris evans

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tamersmile888 · 3 years

Text

Not So Berry Challenge Candie Edition: Lemon Play 6 (Part 3)

What's worse than running a mile in P.E. without working showers in the locker room? Being pestered all day by your new best friend who thinks it's the end of life as we know it if you don't go with her to a high school party.

Lemon was so close to turning off her phone to ignore the rampage of texts Aara sent out like an army trying to tear down Lemon's resistance. But then she would have had to explain why her phone was off and lying would feel a lot worse than the after effects of incessant vibrational shock.

Come to find out, Aara really does have a crush on Israel. On her last attempt to drag Lemon to the party with her, she said she wanted Lemon to casually bring her up in her and Israel's conversation.

Like, hey, cuz. How's it going? I have this friend. You like parties. She likes parties. You should totally ask her out!

When did she sign up to be a matchmaker? What, you say? It's in the fine print no one reads on the back of her Best Friend ID? Good to know....

Life was so much easier when she only played with dolls.

It's Game Night, which means all the adults will be spending the rest of the day playing cards, eating takeout and enjoying each other's company with laughs and good conversation. Usually Lemon enjoys Game Night. She doesn't have to participate if she doesn't want to. She can just watch and laugh along with the people who get her and don't push her to be anyone but herself.

But tonight's gong to be a dread because Aara's grating persistence has won the war. She's going to Israel's party. That is if she gets her parent's permission. And she's secretly hoping she doesn't. Because if they say she can't go, there's no getting around it. The door is closed and the key is thrown out the window of their ten story building. She is begging them to see inside her soul and tell her not to go to this party!

So, here we go. She drags her feet to her parents and asks if she can go to Israel's party. They look at each other, and at first she's expecting a straight out “no”. She is the president's daughter after all. Instead, she gets questions.

Her mom asks, where is the party going to be?

Lemon says, the ruins. In Windenburg. She looks from one parent to the other. What are they thinking? Please say no. Please say no!

Her dad shrugs and says, as long as you're back by ten, why not? He looks to her mom for confirmation.

Her mom says, yeah. Sure. It's good that you're getting out and spending some time with family. We trust you.

Lemon tries to respond with a smile, but it's having trouble staying tacked at the corners of her mouth. She mumbles, thanks, and then turns away to wash the mile sweat off.

She can't wrap her mind around it. Apparently she's trustworthy with stuff like this? How? She's a teenager? Now she has to go get ready for a party she wants nothing to do with. What is her life?!

Arriving at a party in the middle of a severe thunderstorm is a pretty good excuse to pack up and hightail it back home. But no...cool people stick it out. For the thrill. Lemon just hopes no one gets struck by lightning, though these kids are kind of pushing it...

Lemon has to give it to Israel. The venue is kind of cool. She'd still rather experience it on TV where talking back is optional.

But, as she keeps reminding herself over and over again to keep from running in the opposite direction, she's on a mission. All she has to do is talk to Israel, bring up Aara's name and her job here is done. She'll be released from her duties and hopefully never hired again.

She finds Israel hanging out by the fire pit. It seems like a lot is on his mind, but the moment she walks up to him, the cloud instantly clears from his face. He doesn't want to talk about it, and she's not going to pressure him. Instead, she musters up the courage just to say, hey, cool party. The dangerous weather conditions brings a unique touch.

Israel smiles and says, it wasn't planned, but I tend to go with the flow. Some of the best things in life are out of our control.

Thunder booms, quaking the ground, and lightning cracks causing Lemon to nearly jump out of her skin. She stares at the pouring rainstorm, wondering where exactly she took a wrong turn to end up in a place like this.

Israel laughs and says, but uncharted adventure is not for the faint of heart.

If that were true, Lemon needed to build up her courage quickly. Her dreams depended on it.

But this wasn't supposed to be a life lesson on bravery. She was here for a reason. She clears her throat, which is starting to get dry and scratchy from standing too close to the fire, and recites the words she's been repeating to herself since she got there so it comes out right. She says, so, I've got this friend...her names Aara. You might know here---

He says, yeah. She's in my history class.

Lemon nods and says, she's super cool. Maybe you two should...talk?

Israel smirks. He says, sure. I'll talk to her.

Lemon nervously asks, really? She wants it to be clear that this is not a prank. Aara really likes him and she wants things to go well. What if he talked to her only to laugh in her face. She honestly doesn't know that much about him to know how he'd react. She's never read the Matchmaker's Handbook. This is new for her. How does this work?

Israel shrugs as he watches the firewood burn. He says, it wouldn't be the first time someone set him up.

Now that Lemon's really seeing him, even though he's the host of the party, he isn't really in the center of it. Maybe he never wanted to be there either. He could have been dragged against his will to throw the party as much as she was dragged to attend it. It got her thinking. If you want so badly not to do something, why force yourself to do it. Why let other people control your life when it's burning you out?

Before Lemon makes Aara's day by telling her that she's practically in with Israel, she says, I know we don't talk much, but we can if you want.

Israel looks up at her, and that cloud makes a brief return before fading beneath his smile. He says, yeah, we should hang out more.

Lemon smiles back and says, any time. And this time she doesn't dread the invitation at all.

Lemon texts Aara to come join them. Otto tags along looking not too happy. He probably wants to get out of there as much as Lemon does. Lemon introduces Israel to Aara and he acknowledges her with a head nod.

He says, you want to dance? For the first time since she and Lemon's met, Aara is speechless. She nods and lightning strikes, startling her. Israel says, it's okay. We're safe under here. Those weirdos outside are the ones you should be worried about. Aara giggles as they dance together and start up a conversation about who sits where in lunch. Apparently, Aara already has everyone's seating preferences memorized.

While the two of them get to know each other better, Lemon notices Otto walking away. Then it hits her. What if Otto likes Aara? Did she just ruin his chances by hooking her up with her cousin? He probably hates her now? This is why she doesn't do teenage drama. Way too many plates to juggle and a crash is usually unavoidable.

#notsoberrychallenge #not so berry #lemon #space #rocket science #thesims4 #ts4 #simblr #simstumblr #simsstories

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amayawolfe · 3 years

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Prologue Pt.1 - A Circus On The Move

My Stories Masterlist

Word Count: 1943

Summary: Morintonio’s Traveling Circus has reached their docking destination and they are more than ready to be back on land. Among them, a familiar red haired teenager as well as one of his friends.

Warnings: mild angst

It was a beautiful day in the large port town of Dolle. Hardly a cloud in the sky as the sun shone down bright and strong atop the crowds of people that congested the streets below. The sounds of so many going about their daily business were accompanied by that of natural sounds of the surrounding area. Gulls would cry out while fish salesmen discussed prices of the day's catch and draft animals would low as the wheels of the carts they pulled crunched along the ground.

Several ships would come and go throughout the day bringing in and shipping out an unimaginable variety of both goods and people. Ships would even bring in entertainment. Entertainment such as "Moritonio's Traveling Circus''.

The troupe consisted of amazing acrobats, wise fortune tellers, brave beast tamers, and mystifying magicians; just to name a few. They were all led by a mysterious man, Moritonio, whose skills in the performing arts left countless avid yet baffled fans. They had traveled throughout most of the lands of the Esanian Continent, gaining the reputation and funds they needed to travel to the Yorubian Continent. There, dreams of making it big in the pleasure capital known as Glam Gas Land appeared to be just within reach.

The crew of the Ebon Pearl scurried about their routine to make sure their ship was ready for docking. The captain's first mate barked orders and issued threats at some of the more lazy crew members. High up in the crow's nest a young man in his mid-teens was watching the activities below with alert and curious eyes of amber.

Having only been taken in a little over two months ago, the teen is one of a few young trainees in the traveling circus. Morintonio and a few of the members found the poor boy half-dead on the side of the road. Feeling sorry for the unfortunate lad, the ring leader ordered for the boy to be brought back to their temporary site. There he was cleaned up, bandaged, and fed.

Thanks to the aid of another trainee, the boy had recovered quickly enough to be back on his feet in nearly a week's time. It was a good thing, too, since by that point the troupe was ready to be on the road again. A few days travel and the young man found himself sailing south on a ship with the others.

Movement from the shrouds just below the crow's nest drew the young man's attention. Looking down he saw a girl just a couple years younger than himself climbing up the shroud ropes with impressive ease and grace. Not all too surprising seeing she was an acrobat trainee.

As if she felt his eyes gazing down at her, the girl suddenly looked up. Her violet eyes sparkled in the bright sunlight and she flashed him a warm smile.

"Hey, Hisoka!" she greeted him kindly.

Within moments the girl was up the last bit of ropes and jumped over the edge of the crow's nest. Placing her hands on her hips she turned head this way and that to have a look about.

"Quiet the view, I can see why you're up here so much. Guess I should have come up here sooner as well."

"Well, you can't say I didn't invite you up, Abaki. ♣" Hisoka replied nonchalantly. The girl smirked and tilted her head to the side.

"Yeah, I know, but being alone up here with you might get people talking. And last thing I need is Jasper to get jealous and have more reasons to try and hit on me." Abaki shuttered at the thought of the fire-breather trainee that was always trying to get her to go out with him.

"You know,~" Hisoka replied coolly; a sly and knowing grin forming on his face, "you could have brought that friend of yours. What was her name again? Camilla? ♢"

Even though Abaki's warm caramel skin had darkened under the sun's rays while out at sea, Hisoka could still make out the blush forming on his friend's cheeks as she looked away from his taunting amber eyes. Causing Abaki to blush over her crush had become an amusing little game to Hisoka.

"I.. hadn't thought of that," the girl mumbled admittedly.

Hisoka chuckled and looked back down to the deck below. His soft raspberry hair fluttered in the sea breeze as he leaned against the edge of the crow's nest.

"I take it the reason you came up here is to tell me that Morintonio wants us to be ready to leave the ship soon? ♢"

"Oh!" Abaki jumps and whips her head back around towards her friend, "Yeah, I nearly forgot the reason I came up here in the first place! I was told to get you to come down and help make sure everything is ready to go. The boss wants us all of the ship within an hour of docking."

The plan had been to have plenty of time to get stocked up and ready to head out the next morning. All the while allowing enough time for most everyone to work the streets in the evening with little side performances to make some extra travel money. Performances such as small fire shows, juggling, and tumbling acts, as well as a little magic talent. Minute street sideshows that wouldn't need a license to put on nor a full set up to get things ready and going.

"Oh, is that all? And here I was thinking you were wanting to hang out with me for a bit, ♣" the red hair boy playfully pouted. Abaki wrinkled her nose and gave him a playful shove before she started to climb over the edge of the crow's nest again.

"We could hang out more if you weren't always secluding yourself away from the others you know."

"I still get the feeling the others aren't comfortable around me,~♠" Hisoka said softly, a seriousness settling in his voice and expression. "Besides, you know I'm shy.~♠"

"I know, Hiso. But, you're just going to have to try a little harder, that's all. I like being your friend and all, but you really should try and make more." Abaki offered him a warm, lopsided grin before she started her descent back down the shrouds. "I wouldn't take to much longer up here if I was you, you don't want Borizoi to get mad at you again."

Borizoi was an absolute beast of a man who seemingly had it out for Hisoka from the start. He did not like the circumstances in which the young man had been found and actually vouched for the poor boy to be left for dead. Ever since then, Borizoi always had a cold, unforgiving eye on Hisoka.

"Don't worry," Hisoka gave his fellow trainee a smile in return, "I will be down shortly,~♣"

"Alright, see you then!"

Abaki quickly worked her way down the ropes without a single slip up. Even some of the crewmen paused in their tasks to watch her. Some with envy, others with impressed awe. There were definitely benefits in learning how to become a tight rope walking acrobat.

Hisoka's smile faded as Abaki climbed back down to the top deck. His friend's words echoed through his head. An all too familiar feeling began to gnaw at the back of his mind. Loneliness, and the sense that he was oddly different than most of the other troupe members.

Often the young lad would chock the latter feeling to the fact that he was what Morintonio called a "nen user." The ring leader, Abaki, and Hisoka were the only ones in the whole circus troupe that could use their auras to do extraordinary things. And yet, while Abaki made multiple friends and got along with just about everyone in the troupe, Hisoka only really ever associated with Abaki, Morintonio, and his magician trainer, Magikana.

For reasons unbeknown to him, people often found themselves uncomfortable around Hisoka. Both Morintonio and Abaki just tried to lightly pass it off as the others just feeling uneasy due to his raw potential and ability to learn things quickly. They both insisted the others would get used to him eventually as long as he kept trying to socialize.

Magikana, or simply Kana, to Hisoka, once told him something on an utterly different level.

~ * ~ * ~ *

One night, a few weeks back, he had come over and sat next to his teacher only to have the three other members that had been conversing with her stop in mid-sentence. After a few minutes, those same three members rose to their feet and left with hardly a single word more. Despite Hisoka not showing any emotion towards the happening, he had felt dejected. Kana looked down at her pupil and placed a long, boney, yet warm hand on his shoulder. She then spoke to him in her thick, accent rich voice.

"Sheep vill always be nervous round volves, no matter how convincing vool may be."

"So, what does that make you then?♣" Hisoka had asked somewhat bitterly. Kana simply flashed him a sly and toothy grin and winked.

"Is simple, I is fox!" Kana chuckled wholeheartedly. "Small enough to be little vorry for sheep. But! Still dangerous enough to cause problem if see fit."

Hisoka had smiled at Kana, she seemed to always know what to say when Morintonio didn't.

"Alright then, sensei, what am ?~♢"

"Hmmm," Kana hummed in thought. She carefully looked Hisoka over before finally giving him an answer. "I vould say, you are much like volf. But, you is still pup. Could be fox, like me. So," Kana shrugged her slim shoulders, "sheep is scared of vaht you could be."

"Oh, I see... ♠" Hisoka had sounded intrigued; and yet, sad. "And, what about Abaki and Morintonio? ♣"

Kana let out a boisterous laugh at Hisoka's inquiries then ruffled his hair.

"I tink you vorry too much, little one. To answer question, Abaki is like dog. Many people like dog, and dog like many people. Sheep often look to dog for guidance, protection, and friendship. Dog can also get along vith volf. Volf and dog have much in common. Now, Ving Leader..."

The magician paused in thought for a moment. A far off look appeared in her eyes as she carefully mulled over her analysis of the curious man everyone knew as Morintonio.

"He is own beast," Kana had finally replied in a distant voice. "Ving Leader is loved by many, yet, he can be very dangerous man. Should alvays keep some guards up vith that man." A puzzled looked flittered across Hisoka's face.

"What makes you say that? ♣"

"Call it 'animal instinct,'" Kana chuckled lightly. "Should always listen to gut, gut vant to live as much as you do. Sometimes more so. Vaht you need, little one, is to find more volves. Or even dog, cat, or fox. Find more like you. Vill not be easy, but, vill be vorth it."

~ * ~ * ~ *

Hisoka found himself smiling a little whenever the memory of that conversation found its way through his train of thought. Somehow, it helped ease some of the lonely feelings.

He gave a little shake of his head to bring himself back to the present. In one smooth movement, he leaped over the edge of the crow's nest and landed onto the shroud. With agile grace and speed that would even make Abaki jealous, Hisoka made his way down to the top deck where he found some of the other troupe members who were quick to put him to work.

~ ~ ~

Next Chapter: Bubblegum Blood Prologue Pt. 2 - A Glimpse of Darkness

~ ~ ~

Thanks for reading! If you liked what you read, please be sure to click that heart icon!

#hisoka #hisoka hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanfiction #fanfiction #abaki #teen hisoka #travel #dolle #hunterxhunter world #hxh #oc story #prologue #young hisoka #circus #morintonio

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pinetasticapple · 3 years

Text

The Wildest Love Life of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Hello and welcome to The Wildest Love Life of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Who is Marinette you ask? I can answer that for you. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Fifteen years old. Aspiring fashion designer, adept in baking, organizing, and general academics. Just a normal girl, with a normal life.

Oh, did I mention she is also the current wielder of the Ladybug earrings and Guardian of the Miraculous?

You know, the normal stuff teenagers do nowadays.

But this is not the story of how Marinette tries to juggle her life as a regular teenager and her superhero duties, we have seen plenty of those. No, this story is about one very important aspect of her teenage life, one that, for many around her age is crucial, vital even. For others not so much, which is totally valid, I don't see why they put it so high on the priority list… Oh, sorry I carried away there, we were talking about Marinette's very difficult love life.

What? She's fifteen and does have that type of feelings. Might as well indulge in it, shall we? So, this is the story of how Marinette has a wide variety of people that have fallen to her charms. Who wouldn't? Smart, organized, kind, selfless, dare I say like Ladybug? Oh, sure she has her flaws as well, she's not perfect, but isn't that also what made people fall in love with her even more? Should I also add beautiful eyes, an adorable smile, and soft hair that she manages to pull off in a pigtail fashion? No wonder she caught the attention of several people.

And that is what this story is going to be about. The story of Marinette and the people that have caught her heart.

Yes, you read correctly, not person, people. As in, more than one.

How about we take a look at the candidates for Marinette's affection?

In the first place, we have Adrien Agreste.

You see, when Marinette first met Adrien, they started on rocky terms. There was, of course, a misconception in their introduction, something about chewing gum and being friends with Chloe Bourgeois. It all changed when, during a rainy afternoon as classes ended, Adrien opened up his heart to Marinette, about how lonely his life had been and offering her at that moment his umbrella, an act of kindness like no other, while thunder was heard in the background.

Like the French say: un coup de foudre. Here it was taken, quite literally if you catch my drift.

Marinette fell head over heels. It was bound to happen. The first crush, the giddiness and lovesick sighs when the person of affection passes by. She was, for lack of a better word, a complete mess around him. But it wasn't until she realized it was best to be his friend first that she toned down the infatuation.

This brings us to our second candidate, Luka Couffaine.

Now Luka is our classic guitar boy. A couple of years older than Marinette, Luka is calm in the tornado that composes Marinette's life, the lighthouse in her ocean of anxiety, a beam in her path of responsibilities. Wise with his words, emphatic, in tune with his own emotions, Luka provided safety and reassurance in Marinette like no other. The downside of it was when she realized said feelings growing inside her. And this made her lose several hours of sleep many times and a good amount of journal entries to try and comprehend her own heart.

Which, as far as my memory goes, is way easier to solve a crossword puzzle than understand a teenage heart divided by love.

And to make things even more complicated for our resident baker girl, she met Kagami Tsurugi.

What, did you think Marinette was straight? Have you seen how she wears her pink jeans? Finding out girls were also a possible cause of mistaking a crush for a cardiac arrest wasn't that big of an issue for Marinette more than discovering it was Kagami of all people.

Ahem.

Kagami Tsurugi, a girl that has lived the same hardships as Adrien but developed an entirely different personality. Fierce, thoughtful, precise, dedicated, composed. Socially awkward as well, because like I said, same hardships as Adrien (and horrible parenting but that's for another day). A girl that, while at first was a love rival for Adrien's heart, became a close and dear friend to Marinette.

Which led to her questioning if she wanted to be like Kagami or wanted to be with Kagami.

There goes another night without sleep and a new journal entry.

The fourth, yes fourth but let me explain, and last but not least competitor in Marinette's heart is no other than Paris' hero, the wielder of Chaos and Destruction, a goofball at heart but protective and devoted to his work, Chat Noir.

Ah, I know what you're thinking. But isn't Chat Noir's identity one of the very first suitors Adrien Agreste? You are correct, you have watched the show and pieced the clues together, unlike the majority of Paris that seems to have been dumbed down by constant akumatization. Perhaps they should really look into that.

But you see, Marinette doesn't know that. And while she knows Chat Noir has declared his love for her superhero persona countless times, she can't help but feel the walls in her heart chipping away little by little with this alley cat.

Perhaps it's because he's the only one that understands the weight on their shoulders, perhaps because he also shares the same secret identity, double life situation, who knows, but Marinette discovered, a little too late in the night, that her heart would bump at the thought of Chat Noir.

You know the drill, goodbye sleep, hello journal. At this point, Marinette will have a journal dedicated only to her love tangled messy heart.

So, for us it's only three people (and to be quite honest, way more than an average person can have), but for Marinette, it's four. We shall see whether she eventually puts two and two together and makes it a smaller list.

And I am not counting the many others that have been touched by Marinette's heart and looks. This is the wildest love life of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng after all, not the love life of everyone that has fallen in love with her.

Well, you know the basics now. But wait, as the tv ads say, there is more! Because each member of this list is also in a way infatuated, in love, or crushing over our heroine/fashionista. And they know (sans Chat Noir but Adrien can totally fill him in later he thinks) that each one of them wants to be by Marinette's side.

And with that, we can officially start our story.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #fan fic #ml fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng

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enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

#9 On the Horizon

two in one day I’m sorry, I just had to do it, plus I’m excited to see everybody else’s reactions because I’m posting to fanfiction.net and I have one reviewer who has some good theories on the overarching plot. . .

Word count: 5,433

Characters: Tobias, Mott, Feall (Original character), Renlyn Karise (Original character) The Faola (Original creation)

Notes: Edited!

Enjoy!

Tobias wiped his forehead with his sleeve, the summer heat piercing his long sleeved tunic. He loved his work. He loved being able to see results, being able to visibly help other people. It was his mentor, the castle’s official physician, who’d suggested Tobias set up temporary clinics in the poorer areas of the city.

It would give him good practice.

The temporary clinics were nothing like the pristine physician’s suites in the castle, but it was certainly better than a pigsty. It was always set up in the morning by the earliest patrol. A large striped tent was set up in the middle of a large space surrounded by dying buildings. This kept patients out of the heat.

Due to his dedication, Tobias had climbed higher than many of the other apprenticed physicians. He was the one telling the others to get patients clean, keep a steady supply of water, and clean up any mess.

Power felt good. Power over a group of people with a similar cause.

The truth was, he liked not having to sweep floors, he liked cleaning people up. He liked stitching them back together.

That was what his ‘power’ brought him.

In the heat, Tobias requested that canopies be set up in addition to the central tent. It would be easier to work that way. He gently patted his current patient’s shoulder after bandaging the patient’s infected wound. The instructions were clear: Keep clean or he wouldn’t survive.

The new trend of cleanliness was creating a string of new businesses.

Or at least that’s what Renlyn Karise said. Everyone was racing to build up their own bath houses. Racing to supply water to people who could pay for it.

Renlyn played her cards well.

She was one of the few members of the gentry providing water for free, in turn, she received a new wave of Carthyan employees.

Supposedly she was setting up an office in Drylliad dedicated to building structures.

Business to Renlyn was like medicine to Tobias.

The patient thanked Tobias profusely, and walked away. With a grin, Tobias handed his used instruments to the nearest assistant, and moved on to the next canopy. A new bag of tools and a new patient were waiting for him.

“You see, Mott, I was able to track down the doctors that healed Imogen after she was shot through her shoulder,” Tobias said as he opened up his bag of instruments. “Because that kind of survival? Nearly impossible. He wouldn’t tell me his name, though, it took a lot of string pulling on both my part and Amarinda’s part.”

Mott, who often accompanied Tobias during a temporary clinic, scratched the back of his bald head. “Right. I have a feeling you’re going to tell me all about it no matter what my answer is, what did he say?”

“Cleanliness is key. He did a study in which he followed doctors with used instruments as well as doctors who used clean ones. Those with dirty instruments had a higher mortality rate.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Mott nodded. “Dirty cities tend to have higher plague rates, or at least they did.”

“I’m glad you- please stick your tongue out, ma’am- noticed that,” Tobias squinted at his patient’s throat. “It appears that you have white pockets on the back of your throat, you told me it’s quite painful? Do your ears feel jammed too?”

The patient tilted her head left and right.

Tobias nodded, and stepped away when the patient hacked into the open air. “Good, it’s not an infection of the ear, rather an inflammation of the throat. You can get better if you sleep, drink plenty of- absolutely no ale, I’m sorry- water, and make sure you’re coughing often. Come back in three weeks if symptoms don’t subside.”

“You’re very good at what you do,” said Mott as he leaned against one of the canopy poles.

“Plenty of practice, and my wife is an ambassador, she has a lot of access to the best books in the realm. Thank the Saints for the printing press.”

“Rumor has it that you’re single handedly responsible for the lack of bloated corpses in the streets.”

He didn’t mean to make a face.

There would always be people he couldn’t save, and that didn’t sit well with Tobias.

What he’d chosen as a profession differed from what Roden did.

Medicine didn’t label anybody. You were supposed to use it to help everyone in need.

When a person died under a physician’s care, it was far different from taking a man’s life in battle. It was different because steps had been taken to try to save the patient. Because no matter who the patient was, they were being cared for.

In battle, it was a contest to see who was strongest.

Battle crushes compassion.

Medicine exercised as much compassion as it could.

Death never sat well with Tobias, he wanted everyone to have the chance to see another sunrise.

“That’s not true,” Tobias insisted. “Jaron’s the one who's mostly responsible, and I’d put a lot of credit to Imogen and Amarinda. Roden, too. And Renlyn. It’s never the work of one person, it’s the work of a lot of people with good ideas and respect for another human being.”

“Have you been reading books on philosophy too?” Mott arched an eyebrow.

“How did you know?”

“Because I read the same book.”

Tobias opened and shut his mouth several times. A wide grin spread across his face. “Really? I absolutely loved it, though there were some situations where I- please take a seat, sir, I was told you have an injury on your foot and you mustn't put any more pressure on it- didn’t agree with the author.”

“That’s the point of philosophy, is it not?” Mott narrowed his eyes at the patient’s wet boots. “I don’t make a habit of philosophy, but that book was certainly worth my time.”

“Good, good! I thought- sir, can you remove your boot please?” Asked Tobias, trying his best to juggle both conversations.

To his dismay, he couldn’t carry both.

As gingerly as he could, Tobias removed the patient’s boot, and kept a straight face as the smell assaulted his nose.

The foot seemed normal, but Tobias knew better to dismiss a patient’s concern based off of appearance only. Shifting around in his bag of instruments, Tobias withdrew a cloth, and used it to cover his hands while he touched the patient’s foot.

There weren’t many things Tobias disliked, except for feet.

But his love for what he did helped him overcome that loathing in order to help people like his current patient.

“When did you begin feeling pain?” Tobias asked after thoroughly touching the foot. “Does it ever flare up?”

The patient held up his hand and tilted it from side to side. “Fales up on occasion, usually after I’ve worked a long day.”

“And when did this pain start?”

“Er, ah, I took up a second job hauling metal for the blacksmith. My foot started hurting a week or two after I began.”

Ah, that second job would certainly contribute.

So many of the patients Tobias saw had afflictions that could be cured with a little rest, and a little less consumption of liquors. Renlyn’s attempt to provide fresh water to those who couldn’t get any was helping, but as people were working themselves to death, there was only so much water could do.

“You mentioned that the pain flares,” noted Tobias, suddenly very aware of the fact that the cobblestones were hurting his knees. He rocked back onto his heels, “Can you tell me when they get unbearable? And when they’re not painful at all?”

“I, ah, let me think,” the patient’s shoulders twitched. “They don’t get so bad on the Saints’ day. I think they’re the worst on the last working day of the week. I suppose it builds up over time.”

All it took was that explanation to confirm Tobias’s diagnosis.

Unfortunately, the patient likely wouldn’t like it.

He cleared his throat, trying to pick out the best words to describe what needed to be done. “Sir, you don’t have any fractures of the bone, nor any growths or other bad things. . . But you’re working yourself to exhaustion.”

The patient was silent. Tobias could feel Mott’s eyes lingering on the scene, taking in the utter disappointment. Asking the patient to work less was asking him to starve. Asking him to let his family starve.

And that notion made Tobias’s heart begin to whimper. It made his heart break in two.

His patient should be allowed to rest.

He should be allowed to build up his strength.

Allowed to take a moment to ease his aching feet.

“Sir, if you want to make the best recovery you can, you’ll-,” Tobias heaved in a breath, panic crawling up his spine in tiny steps. “Your feet aren’t broken in any way, but they’re tired. Your body is tired. You must take more than a day of rest in order to prevent further injury.”

The patient hung his head.

Behind him, Mott stiffened. Tobias could sense the sudden change in the atmosphere around them. He was preparing to defend Tobias in case the patient grew violent.

It had been several weeks since the last patient tried to hurt him, but it wasn’t something Tobias could ever forget.

After several moments of silence, the patient nodded. “How long would I be unable to work?”

“Depends. If you completely take the pressure off of your feet, I suppose you could recover in a few days. You’ll want to eventually build up strength, but you do that in small increments, not by lugging metal and other wares around for nearly a whole week.”

“I, ah, I have my family to think of.”

Tobias didn’t mean to wince. He’d known that was coming, and he wished with all of his heart that he’d solve the-

“Lord Branch, it truly is a nice afternoon,” said a familiar, catlike voice.

“Lady Karise, I was just meeting with a patient. We’re discussing the best way for him to recover,” Tobias glanced back at the woman behind him.

“Oh?” Renlyn shielded her eyes against the sun. She had to be blistering hot in her gown and veil. “Is there a price to be paid?”

“Not necessarily,” the patient bowed his head, murmuring the appropriate titles for the woman before him.

“Then why is both patient and doctor so disenhearted?”

As subtle as he could, Tobias nodded at his patient. Renlyn wouldn’t have him flogged for speaking to her. Or at least he didn’t think so.

There was an air of nervousness as Tobias’s patient brought his eyes from the ground to Renlyn’s face. Reverence filled his voice. “My lady, Lord Branch has asked- has informed me that my pain will go away given a little rest. . .”

Renlyn arched an eyebrow, both she and Tobias were waiting for the outcome of their discussion.

“My family depends on my, my lady, that’s all I have to say on the matter. I will not let them starve,” the patient finished by bowing his head once again.

“True dedication,” Renlyn mused.

Something mischievous was sparkling in her eyes. Tobias could see it from where he sat. He could see that glimmer as clear as the daylight illuminating Drylliad.

“What are you implying?” Tobias tried not to frown, there were all too many possibilities about what Renlyn was trying to get across.

“I promise you, dear sir, that you will be taken care of.” That twinkle still hadn’t left Renlyn’s eyes. “If you swear to rest for a week.”

The patient stuttered to life, “But how? What-”

“You will simply have to trust me, my friend.”

Tobias wrinkled his nose, but said nothing.

He still didn’t know Renlyn well enough to understand the multiple games she was playing.

The games she was playing and winning.

“Goodbye then,” Renlyn clasped her hands behind her back. And yet, despite her farewell, remained planted where she stood.

Tobias and his patient exchanged a look. There were many things to be done around the temporary clinic, it would be foolish and inconsiderate of Tobias to toss aside Renlyn’s quiet offer to help.

“Ah, there’s many patients who need water, if you wouldn’t mind helping them,” Tobias said, and then he looked at his patient’s wet shoes. “And if you could spare a-”

“Pair of boots?”

“Yes, actually. These ones aren’t suitable, they’re soaked and worn full of holes.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Renlyn tipped her head, and retrieved the discarded boot.

Tobias flashed a bright smile at his patient. “Stay here for a little while longer and rest.”

“Sir, I- ah, thank you,” the patient shifted. “But it’s a lot to ask me to go on blind faith. The nobles aren’t exactly. . .”

“Kind?”

“Exactly.”

There was something stirring in Tobias's chest. Something hot and ready to fight. He heaved in a breath, knowing that this was a deciding moment.

He was deciding that yes, he did trust Lady Renlyn Karise.

“I can promise you that Lady Karise doesn’t go back on her promises,” he held a hand over his heart. “I suppose that’s why she doesn’t make many of them.”

“Then I’ll take your word for it, Lord Tobias.”

“It’s alright, I try not to throw my title around while I work, sir-”

What a fool. Tobias had never asked for his patient’s name. He hadn’t expected to get so involved in his patient’s life.

“Derforgall,” the patient flashed a grin. “Calagan Deforgall.”

“Any relation to Alistair Derforgall? One of the king’s knights?” Tobias scratched the back of his head, curious about Derforgall’s answer.

He nodded. “Alistair is my son.”

“He’s a good man, I’ve heard a lot about him.”

A smile crossed Derforgall’s face. “I couldn’t be more proud of Alistair, he’s my oldest son, and he does what he can for us. It’s not much, and I don’t expect him to provide for me while I can still work. He’s too foolish in trying to give us things. My wife, she, ah, she has a habit of kindness. Alistair learned that from her, and I take pride in knowing he is in a place to use that kindness for good.”

Tobias caught himself nodding. Kindness was perhaps the most valuable currency in the realms. There wasn’t much of it following the Avenian War.

But many people were trying to prove otherwise.

And Tobias would do all that he could to contribute.

The temporary clinics remained standing well into the evening. Tobias, Mott, Renlyn, and the others had their hands full with various different tasks, varying into all sorts of forms. Renlyn brought water, Mott helped with settling rambunctious patients, and Tobias patched up as many people as he could.

And to top it all off, Derforgall got a new pair of boots.

However, Renlyn was nowhere to be seen when he was given the boots. In fact, Tobias didn't see her until Derforgall had left, promising that he would rest for a week.

He didn't bring up her promise to Derforgall until they were dismantling the canopies.

"That was very kind of you," Tobias noted as he untied part of the canopy.

Renlyn made a face. "I don't see why it has to be discussed. Many people would do the same."

"Some people argue that it's in man's nature to be kind," said Mott from the opposite end of the canopy. "Shows that you're human, Lady Karise."

"Shame, I was hoping that I was secretly a fairy for the longest time."

"You sure do look like a fairy," chipped in a new voice. Lord Feall was watching from his position on his horse.

No retort came from Renlyn, she only scowled and continued untying parts of the canopy.

"Lord Feall!" Tobias grinned. "What brings you here?"

Feall waved his hand, "I was in the area, just completed patrolling the upper streets. Missed

helping you lot earlier today, I figured I could make up for it by assisting with the cleanup."

"You have a height advantage, mind grabbing the center of the canopy?" Mott gestured to the aforementioned spot, which was threatening to drop into the cobblestone street and dirty itself.

With a nod of his head, Feall slowly walked his horse forwards, grabbing the center of the canopy. He held it up with both hands as Tobias, Mott, Renlyn, and another attendant scrambled to untie the canopy.

Tobias held his side of the canopy as high as he could, and instructed the others to go to Mott's side. Mott, catching on, began to roll the canopy.

It was all rolled up and stored within a matter of minutes.

They repeated the process for multiple canopies; Tobias profusely thanked Feall for his assistance, to which Feall responded that it wasn't him who needed to be thanked, it was his horse

On the third canopy, Tobias once again mustered the courage to speak to Renlyn.

He could no longer deny his curiosity.

“Lady Karise, I-,” Tobias began.

“My name is Renlyn, you’re allowed to call me that.”

“Right, ah, Renlyn? You promised Derforgall he’d be taken care of.” He paused, untied the string before him, and continued. “You never specified how he’d be taken care of.”

“I didn’t realize I needed to,” Renlyn frowned at the post in front of her. She glared at the other assistant who’d been looking at her. “I have many ties.”

“To what kind of people, Lady Renlyn?” Mott chimed in, his own eyes glued to the post before him.

“People who have more of an ability to take action.”

“I have many reasons to distrust you, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Is that because I’m a woman of business, sir Mott?”

“Partially, yes.”

Feall cleared his throat. “You can’t be too harsh about the stereotype. Renlyn has proved herself to be as unpredictable as the weather in late summer.”

“First I am a fairy to you, and now I am a storm with human skin,” Renlyn narrowed her eyes at Feall. “Am I something pretty to look at or something you fear?”

“Is it wrong of me to say both?”

Once again, Renlyn had no biting retort, and instead continued with freeing the canopy from the posts it was tied to.

“I believe Lady Karise,” Feall said as a small smile flitted across his face.

“Thank you, I suppose.”

“Right, ah, uh,” Tobias stuttered. “I think we should go to the Dragon’s Keep once we’re finished. Roden says there’s a new series of pastries we need to try.”

“I haven’t got anything planned,” shrugged Feall. He then looked to Mott and Renlyn. “What about you two?”

Renlyn tilted her head from side to side. “I’ll make that choice once everything is cleaned.”

Tobias tried to suppress his grin.“And you, Mott?”

“Haven’t got anything better to do.”

The thought of pastries split between his friends warmed Tobias's sore back. The work went much quicker, and Feall provided many insights on how to correctly weave a lattice for a pie. In turn, a debate sparked between Feall and Mott about which type of lattice was superior.

It didn't take long for the conversation to grow heated enough to make Renlyn crack a grin.

Altogether, Tobias decided that he'd had a victory over the day's passage. He'd managed to set up and take down the canopies in less than a few hours, stitched up several patients, helped a good man, and even managed to see Renlyn grin at the ground.

If there had to be a loss, it was because Mott argued that a pie lattice was much better over the pie crust in general, ensuring there was more pastry to eat.

Seeing the pie filling guarded by artfully placed dough was always a positive in Tobias's eyes.

With the supply wagons slowly headed back to the castle, Tobias decided that it was appropriate to make their way to the Dragon's Keep.

A sweet, warm pastry was calling his name, he simply knew it.

Feall fell into place beside Renlyn, and Tobias found himself squished in the middle.

Even Mott was in oddly cheerful spirits.

Unintentionally, they all pressed together as they passed one of the dark entrances to the ever mysterious Vaults.

Pastries were the goal, not an agonizing death in a place that rivaled the Devils' Lair.

Days later, Tobias would wonder what would've happened if they'd never decided to get pastries.

The attack came out of nowhere.

Nothing could've warned them about the cloaked bandits launching themselves out of hidden crevices.

They poured out from alleyways, from doorways and from windows.

Mott and Feall reacted much sharper than Tobias did. They faced outwards, keeping the unarmed Tobias and Renlyn safely sandwiched between them. Hooded heads surrounded them all.

One stood out from the rest.

Patched cloak.

Shorter than the others.

"Get his sword!" Bellowed the figure in the patched cloak.

Tobias was able to put the pieces together the second his mind calmed down.

The shrieking figure before him was a Faola. A fugitive Tobias had managed to trust. Had managed to talk his friends at court into trusting.

And here they were, abusing that trust.

“If we make enough noise, Captain Harlowe will come,” Mott said firmly, he’d dug the ball of his foot into one of the cobblestone crevices.

“This place is empty,” explained Feall. He jerked his head towards one of the buildings, “How else would they have gotten here?”

“I still think if we make enough noise, we can-”

“Get his sword, Devils have you!” The Faola barked, gesturing to Feall. When it became evident that nobody wanted to go near him, the Faola began to approach. “And get a rope. They can’t take us, we have higher numbers, we’ll hold the-”

“We’re not supposed to touch nobility,” mused another Faola. This one was short too.

“I don’t-”

“You should care,” Feall argued back, swiping at the Faola approaching him. “It’ll destroy your reputation here. And you don’t want that now, do you-?”

Tobias flinched as Feall’s sword met the Faola’s.

“You will speak when spoken to,” growled the Faola.

“Aren’t you speaking to me now?”

“I will get the captain myself!” Roared the other Faola, he drew his sword. “You’re putting us all at risk for something we don’t even stand for!”

“There is no-,” grunted the Faola fighting Feall. He swung at him again. “There. Is. No. ‘We’!”

“This is madness!”

“This is accomplishing a goal more important than keeping the peace!”

The second Faola wasn’t convinced. “Get the captain. You two, down the main road, you two up the low, and you two up the high-”

The cloaked Faola suddenly stopped fighting Feall, and hurled himself at his fellow bandit, taking the second Faola completely by surprise.

It was entrancing. Absolutely captivating.

Feall lunged forward to attack the cloaked Faola while he was distracted. However, the Faola predicted his move, and spun out of the way, leaving Feall’s sword to clash against the second Faola. The pair exchanged several blows before Feall realized he was attacking the wrong opponent.

The cloaked Faola continued his odd dance. Always spiraling away at the last moment. Always putting himself in the crosshairs and yanking himself free before he was hit.

Mott grabbed Tobias by the wrist, and yanked him as far away from Feall and the fight as he could. Renlyn lithely stepped away, her pale hands clenched into fists.

The Faola who’d been told to find Roden had long since ran in their appropriate directions. The others remained.

They didn’t contribute in any form, they only stood like hooded judges watching a trio of cockroaches fighting over a crumb.

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Yelled the Faola fighting beside Feall.

“On the contrary!” Retorte the other as he once again spun out of reach. “I’ve been plotting this for ages!”

Feall nearly managed to swipe at his opponent’s middle, but his sword only met open air as the Faola melted into the crowd. He instantly stood tall, looking for his missing foe. “What is his name?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” the Faola panted. “I-”

A blood curdling howl interrupted the short conversation. Tobias’s gaze was drawn to the shrieking, but all he found was that unbreakable line of Faola.

The distraction worked all to well.

The cloaked Faola materialized out of the crowd, just behind Feall and the other Faola.

Tobias looked away as the cloaked Faola brought the hilt of his sword crashing down on the other Faola’s head, knocking him unconscious.

Feall barely managed to block a blow aimed at his neck.

Another harsh clap of metal meeting metal shattered the air, followed by another, and another, and another. Mott held his ground, and shifted his way to best defend Tobias and Renlyn.

It didn’t seem like Feall was trying to overpower the Faola, or at least that’s what Tobias was trying to believe. The shared blows were much too short. Feall parried each one of the Faola’s advances, and did his best to push the Faola’s blade out of his grip.

A second Faola joined in trying to dispatch Feall, followed by a fourth.

Mott knelt before the fifth Faola, and put his hands behind his head. He then motioned for Renlyn and Tobias to do the same.

Was this really happening?

It was difficult to wrap his mind around it. They’d all been walking in a straight line to get pastries, yes, but the atmosphere changed. Tobias screwed his eyes shut. The swords hitting against each other over and over and over again pounded in his head.

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

Saints.

All he wanted was to go home.

This was only a bad dream.

Unfortunately, when Tobias cracked his eyes open, he and Mott were being guarded by a few of the Faola.

How much time had passed.

“Keep your eyes down,” Mott muttered. “They’re not here for us.”

“How do you-, oh,” breathed Tobias.

The Faola in the patchwork cloak.

The one fighting Feall.

That had been the Faola who’d led the attack in the woods.

Oh, oh saints.

Tobias had allowed for this to happen.

He couldn’t bear to watch as the clashing of swords grew faster, faster, faster.

He couldn’t bear to watch because he knew that Feall had no chance fighting off three of the Faola at once.

And it was all his fault.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Tobias could see the fight. He watched it just as he’d watched the snow falling lazily to the earth just months before. Ever so slow, ever so graceful. Sword hit sword, Feall dodged, all three Faola took a turn kicking at him. Feall tumbled to the ground. His hands and feet were pinned down. The cloaked Faola raised his sword high above his head.

They were watching an execution.

Unable to watch the scene any longer, Tobias turned his head, hoping that Renlyn would offer him the slightest shred of comfort.

But she was nowhere in sight.

All at once, everything came back to speed.

With a roar, Mott threw all of his weight into the nearest bandit, stealing his sword in the process. Tobias frantically looked for Renlyn, for Feall, for a way out, but he saw nothing.

Everything was rapidly filling with chaos.

The Faola, once so serene in their judgement, were fighting soldiers dressed in blue and gold. A tall man hacked through the crowd, bodies falling as he did so.

It seemed that Roden saved the day after all.

And all Tobias could do was watch.

Watch as the Faola tried to keep a protective circle around their patched friend.

Watch as they slowly ran for the shadows.

Watch as Feall scrambled to his feet, Renlyn holding a glittering dagger not far from him.

Watch as Roden demanded to know who was responsible, and be pointed to who was responsible.

The hood was torn off, revealing a young woman with scarlet hair.

Words were being said, but Tobias didn’t hear them.

He’d covered his ears to block out the sounds of unnecessary deaths.

“Tell me everything you remember,” Roden said gently, leaning ever so casually against the fireplace in his office.

Renlyn, Mott, and Tobias all sat in comfortable chairs, and each had their own mug of something warm. Feall was being looked over by the royal physician.

Tobias was still reeling from the attack.

Still trying to put the pieces together.

They’d been walking to get pastries, passed the Vaults, nearly made it to the Dragon’s Keep, a horde of Faola appeared out of nowhere, they attacked Feall but left the others alone, and the perpetrator was arrested.

He’d been told her name was Ayvar, and she was vehemently denying her involvement.

Clearing his throat, Mott told the story. Details fell from his mouth, but Tobias wasn’t listening.

Tobias had seen the entire scene on his own.

Too much blood and anger in one place.

“-there was a promise made,” Roden explained. “Jaron swore we would take care of the Faola if Feall allowed us to.”

“The attack was rushed,” Mott said.

“I know, there’s much more Faola here than were there at the attack. I was on patrol just a few streets over, too. If they’d been planning this, they would’ve done something much more inconspil-inconsnipu- much more quietly.”

“Is inconspicuous the word you’re looking for?” Tobias provided, his ears finally clear of the sound of flesh being sliced open.

“Ah, yes, yes it is,” a deep blush spread across Roden’s face. “It’s been a long day.”

“I agree.”

Renlyn sat straight up. “Is anybody concerned by the fact that they didn’t actually hurt us three?”

“Very much so, actually,” Mott answered.

Spin, spin, spin.

Tobias had been fascinated by several different clocks Renlyn had brought to court to sell. He loved watching how the gears had taken on different shapes.

His mind was just like those clocks, except his gears had frozen up.

Renlyn’s observation spun them back into action.

Think, think, think!

Connect the dots Tobias!

“It doesn’t make sense!” He didn’t mean to stand up. Tobias kept his blanket draped over his shoulders, much like the philosophers of old. “There were too many of them, too many opportunities to slit our throats. I mean, we’re not the best fighters, no offense Mott, and one of the Faola was very adamant about not touching us. They didn’t use any- any- they didn’t hurt- they ah-.”

Mott’s voice brought Tobias back down to his feet. “Take a breath, it’s alright to take things slow.”

Take things slow.

Tobias began to drum his temples, “It doesn’t make sense that they’d leave us alone, but try to cut Feall’s head clean off his shoulders.”

“Beheading is punishment for treason,” Renlyn chirped. She made a face when all eyes flew to her. “What?”

“I’m only slightly concerned,” announced Roden. He was beginning to pace. “Maybe they’d been paid to kill him.”

“But there was an entire group there,” Mott pointed out, a scowl settling on his features.

“It’s quite possible that only one of them was singled out and paid,” Tobias said. “Roden, can I ask how you found out the Faola’s name?”

“I’ve met her before, in the Vaults. I didn’t think she was a killer.”

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

The dots were coming together bit by bit.

Tobias began to pace in the opposite direction of Roden. “Then maybe she was paid to do so.”

A single question lingered in the room. Mott was the one to give the question a voice. “Who would want Feall dead?”

“I’m sure several people would,” Roden answered. “I know there’s dozens of people who want me dead.”

“You grow used to it,” muttered Renlyn.

Used to people hating you so much they wanted you to die?

The prospect made Tobias frown.

He’d have to wait until he could talk things through with Amarinda. He’d be able to see and hear all the details then.

Put them all together and listen to what Amarinda had to say.

There was more to this than just an attack on Feall.

Tobias refused to believe the attack was simply based in money.

You don’t attack a man out in the open with the captain of the guard nearby. Unless you were a fool.

No, this had to be a warning.

A storm of blood and bone lingered on the horizon.

And it was coming all too soon.

#tobias #mott #ocs #fic friday #fic Friday except its a sunday #again #also uh #this was a blast #I had to do two today because I couldn't resist and I really like angsty stuff #yeehaw #the ascendance series #the false prince #the runaway king #the shadow throne #the ascendance trilogy

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alloveroliver · 4 years

Text

Essena Everleigh - MLQC OC

Picrew

Essena Everleigh

I would like for you to meet the newest main character of my upcoming series feat. Victor from MLQC.

Sex: Female

Age: 28

Evolver: Yes, she is one, but her power is unknown/unclear.

Paired with: She has the biggest crush on Victor but doesn’t want to complicate their work relationship (or what little of one they have). Besides... He’s her boss. She feels that it would be inappropriate.

~Appearance~

Height: 5′4

Body Type: Hourglass petite

Hair Color: Natural blonde, but she sometimes dyes it in the winter to a soft chocolate brown.

Eye color: Super dark brown, almost black.

Fashion: Not very fashion-forward. Essena wears put together outfits only when her friends take the time to set them up for her. She doesn't know what necklaces go with what belt. All she knows is that the outfit combinations her friends make, get her more compliments than her typical clothes.

Body Modifications: She has a tattoo on her left side of a watercolor Japanese cherry blossom tree. It's not too large for her small frame but does stretch from her waistline to under her breast. She also has a matching tattoo with her best friend, Orion, of a tiny fairy. Hers is amongst the limbs of the cherry blossom tree. Orion's is on their ankle.

~Basic Things~

Born: In England, she moved to Loveland after college for a job offer. (at LFG)

Education: Graduated High school, took a gap year, then went to college and got her degree in business and communications.

Likes and Dislikes: She’s a night owl by nature. Since moving to Loveland, the time difference was different enough for her to change to a morning person to wake up for work. So far, her night owl side has been slipping on the weekends. She fears it may take over again, in time.

Hobbies: She LOVES listening to audiobooks. LOVES IT. She devours books daily. If she has headphones in, it's not music that she's listening to. Essena's favorite books are fantasy or sci-fi style books, long books that take several days to read. She will also dabble in self-help and non-fiction here and there.

Job: She works at LFG! She's on one of the middle floors of the skyscraper. Essena is the team leader of a group of marketing individuals. They outsource most of the actual marketing work to other departments but come up with solutions or full marketing campaigns for the company's LFG funds.

They are a resource the company offers, that is, as long as the smaller businesses coming to them are making a significant profit. Her job is to make sure the small businesses are growing like their reports state they should be and to help market them to the public. Her role entails leading the marketing group of 8 people. 15 are part of their team but do other tasks for the marketing team. She makes reports on the small business' and has to report why they chose to make a marketing campaign for them. She also has to describe the campaign they came up with and why it will work. This goes for follow-ups to other campaigns they've done to see if they are working as intended and if the company made a profit off of it. It can become tedious, but since she's been there for five years, she's climbed to her leadership position easily and now does the job as if it were second nature.

Friends: She has a best friend from London that ended up moving to Loveland after she did a year later. Their name is Orion. They work as a manager and barista at the coffeeshop Essena goes to every morning to get her daily fix. The two of them were roommates in Loveland for two years before Orion moved in with their long time boyfriend. Now Essena lives alone in her studio apartment, but they are in the same building! Orion couldn't be that far from their bestie, especially living on a new continent like this.

Other friends: She started going out for drinks with a few ladies from the office. Eventually, it became a weekly ritual, and now they have a favorite server at the local restaurant that knows all their orders by heart. She cursed her predictive nature, but those dipped pretzel sticks were out of this world. The two ladies from the office became three, and soon there were always 4 of them hanging out on the weekends. They've even gone on short trips together with her best friend Orion of whom fits in with them arguably better than Essena actually does.

Friend from work 1: Paige. Pale skinned, dark brown-haired beauty. She's got green eyes that sometimes look brown in the lighting. Always manages to wear red lipstick, always. From a wealthy, luxurious family. She will inherit millions from her grandfather, who is in amazingly good health for an 80-year-old. But for now, she's working her dream job. Despite her silver spoon, she was raised very down to earth and continues to surprise the friend group with the duality of her personality. One moment she wants to go on a luxury cruise and the next shes fine with eating ice cream on a local beach resting on a sandy towel.

Friend from work 2: Zarah, has a twin sister named Erah. (The twin sister hangs with them less frequently since Erah is the married one with three kids and Zarah remains single.) She has long black straight hair. Her eyes are the color of honey, and her lips are a pretty petal pink. Erah is a mirror image of Zarah. Her family moved to Loveland from Vietnam when they were in high school.

Friend from work 3: Charley- Strawberry blonde, blue-eyed bombshell. She doesn't need makeup to look like a model. Adventurous! She always takes her vacation for trips abroad and uses her free time on the weekends for local vacation spots. Always down to hang out no matter what.

Best friend, Orion. Short Brown hair, Deep ocean blue eyes. They/them pronouns. Androgynous features. Likes to wear both feminine and masculine clothes and rocks both of them equally. Essena and Orion knew each other in high school and met again in college. They never spoke in high school but shared some teachers. In college, they ended up sharing a class with no planning and became quick friends. After one year, they moved off campus together and lived as roommates in an apartment for the remaining three years at college. Then Essena moved to Loveland, and, as I stated above, Orion moved too. They were roommates again for two years while Orion dated Devin. Eventually, Orion and Devin got unofficially engaged and decided to move in together BUT in the same condo building as Essena. Orion and Essena are inseparable.

*Bonus Picrews of the friends*

PAIGE | CHARLEY | ORIZON

ZARAH | ERAH

~Background~

Family: Mother and father split up when she was young, but got back together in her teens. They split up again after she got into college, then got back together when she graduated. They are, to this day, in an on yet off-again relationship.

Siblings: She has a half brother, her dad fathered while her parents were separated when she was young. They are very close in age, only three years apart. She knows his name, Jeremy, but has never actually met him face to face. They added each other on Facebook in college and liked one another's posts regularly.

Ex's: Her boyfriend of 2 years, Justin, lived near her in London. She hadn't realized the relationship would crumble when she moved to Loveland, and it became long distance. Essena also hadn't realized how dependent Justin was on her and how freeing it felt to be away from him finally and able to breathe again. She decided to end things with the new feeling of relief. Essena felt being away from him, not realizing what a leech he was on her. He was toxic and didn't want a long-distance relationship but also harassed her online after she moved. She decided to delete her social media, change her number, move from the address she told him she lived, and start her life fresh. It was revitalizing!

~Misc~

Bad Habits: She bites her nails far too much. They hurt and throb after shes watched a particularly suspenseful movie. She also has a habit of cutting people off to get her thought across before it goes away, without meaning for it to be rude. She then has to backpedal and apologize. But, its too late, the conversation has already begun to shift to her new topic.

Intro or extroverted?: She is both introverted and extroverted, yet she seems to thrive more when shes had time to herself alone.

Organized or messy?: Somehow both, she has her desk space and room organized, but her kitchen is a mess. Used pots and pans litter the stove and the sink is somehow always filled with dishes.

Workstyle?: Essena fronts like she’s a workaholic but she is just really good at keeping organized at work and getting her stuff done in time. Her home is for relaxation only, no work.

Three things she’s good at:

Being able to talk to almost anyone about anything based on nuggets of information shes learned from reading all her books.

Being there for her friends when they are having a rough time. She is the friend to bring them their favorite ice cream or treat and sit with them until they talk out their problems.

Essen is super good at her job. Very efficient, with little to no mistakes in her reports.

Three things she's bad at:

Juggling her free time. She sometimes forsakes folding her clothes in lieu of watching TV

Math. She knows what math she needs for work but the rest she forced from her brain after college.

Relying too much on technology

What is her life goal? To retire early with enough money to live in her dream beach house.

Where does she see herself in five years? She sees herself, not as the team leader of the marketing team, but the executive director of the whole marketing floor. And maybe, also, lowkey, she wants to be married. Jussssst a little bit.

Three words to describe her personality? She’s prepared, energetic, and fun!

Three words others use to describe her personality? Homebody, reliable, cautious.

What is her most prized possession? Her friends <3

Favorite color? Red

Fav thing in men?: Strong, overly confident, tall, muscular, Victor shaped men.

Fav food: Realistically, based on how much she eats this, it's pickles. But, she likes to answer this question with "Souffle."

What would be the perfect gift for her? Gift Cards for audible

How does she deal with stress? A brisk walk around the block when something is currently weighing on her. At night, she likes to take super hot baths with a lavender scented bath bomb to relax. If it’s super heavy, she likes to read an actual paper book from the many she’s yet to touch on her bookshelf. No need to buy them on audiobook if she has them already, at least that's what she tells herself. It helps her to get lost in the book, in the story and universe of someone else’s life. Takes her mind right off her troubles.

Is she spontaneous, or does she feel she always needs a plan? A bit of both. She is down to do something at the drop of a hat, as long as there is a bit of forewarning XD

Any pet peeves? Watching other people bite their nails. It’s no fair hers are chewed away.

Anyone that asks “Any plans for the weekend” in the office on Friday, then on Monday, “What did you do this weekend?” every single week, every month, every year. As if she needed a reason to sound lamer other than “Nothing… just… read books and caught up on some shows…”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉

A|N: I made her out of spite. :) I absolutely despise the MC of mlqc, Lmfaooo. This OC will be a more mature, more logical, and a more rational person. I wanted to write a Victor x MC fic, but I literally couldn't write the MC cannon. The MC has two brain cells, and one is to not listen to what people warn her about, and the other is self-sacrificing to the annoyN'th degree.

This new OC will have at least four brain cells minimum. One brain cell for logical processes to help her with her job at LFG as a supervisor. One for understanding when someone is genuinely concerned for her safety, and she knows to listen and heed their word. Another that exudes confidence and bright, bubbly cheeriness when her friends need to be lifted up from the dark, and one that has a massive, monumental crush on Victor Li, the CEO of LFG. Her boss.

I also despise the MC so much I ended up spewing out five (or 9???) MORE OC's from this..... like... that's how severe this is for me. ANYWHO good seems to be coming out of it, so I can't complain. lol

I'm going to be writing a multi-chapter fic with this OC. So I hope you love her! I've got two chapters written, but I never gave her a character sheet or anything. The more I write about her, the more her personality unfolds <3

Please, for the love of Victor, send me asks about this OC if you’d like to help me develop her ♥♥♥. I’m very serious about making her and this will become my writing project for 2020. <3 (well, one of them.)

#I am a crazy person and did all this in 4 hours. where is that motivation all the time??? lol #I know my OC posts are my least popular but w/e. I am starting a long form story and I want everyone to know her just as well as I do! <3 #MLQC OC #victor x oc

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