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crescentsteel · 4 years

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Keeping a Secret - Part 3

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 7.3k (Ill just stop apologizing for this long chapter updates at this point)

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

“Remind me again why are we here.” Tsukishima tells you as soon as he steps foot inside your room.

He scans the room and immediately notices the mess that it is, particularly the top bunk of the bed which he doesn’t doubt must be your share of it.

On the wall on the left side of the room are posters of seascapes and sea animals of different varieties while the desk bolted under it are framed photos of Sendai Frogs. He recognizes them all;, one was taken from the first win of the team on the first year you joined as the manager. The second is a photo of the team at the gym with the new members that year, including Kyoutani who had just recently joined. The last one is a selfie of you on the bus doing a peace sign and winking at the camera while everyone was sleeping.

He kinda feels bad for your roommate now. You’re practically hogging the whole room.

You put down your bag on the floor and shoot him a confused look. “To do our project?”

When you told him to meet in your dorm, he agreed because he thought you meant the common area. After all, he had no reason to think you’d invite him to your room. You two may have disregarded the club incident, tucking it away as a sordid memory from a night of insanity, but that doesn’t mean it is forgotten. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you as you appear to genuinely find nothing wrong with the current situation.

You seat yourself at your table, taking out your laptop and notes from the trip last time.

“Go sit, Tsukishima,” you say without even looking at him as you spread out your notes on the table’s surface as your laptop boots up.

“We could’ve just done this in the library, or at least in the lobby,” he says as a matter-of-factly.

“True, but I also don’t see any problem with doing it here,” you answer passively, still occupied with arranging your papers.

He was right. It really does not bother you at all. So, he shouldn’t be bothered with it either. This way, at least, no one would see you and him together. You’re a person he doesn’t want to be associated with hanging around with anyways.

“Do you always invite your groupmates to your room?” He asks out of curiosity since it didn’t seem like anything for you to just invite him in, as if you didn’t care much about your privacy.

“Hmm. Depends,” you answer.

He takes out his own laptop, but still eyes you as he prods further. “On what?”

The curve of your lips tugs up slightly as you sit up straight and lift your gaze away from the notes you took out and finally turn your attention to him.

“I welcome those who won’t get handsy with me.”

“Even if you’re the one who’d get handsy with them?” he boldly counters.

You cock your head to the side with hints of amusement playing across your features, which vexes him. The question was supposed to tear your composure, not entertain you.

“Alright, let’s get the fucking elephant out of the room since it bothers you so much,” you announce with levity.

If you’re going to be honest, the kiss still finds its way to your mind sometimes. You just keep pushing it off so that you won’t get stressed out by it. What you find interesting is that he still keeps shoving that fact that you kissed him as if you wanted to do so.

Well, you literally did kiss him, but it’s not like you sought for it prior to the incident.

It just … happened.

“I’ll come clean, good sir, if you’ll allow me,” you declare sarcastically before setting a more serious tone. “I admit it. It was one hell of a mistake to kiss you. But I didn’t mean to. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn’t. It was just one of those stupid, off-the-cuff things people do.”

Your voice takes an accusatory note when you ask, “And why do you sound like I harassed you or something? Hmm? ‘Cause if I remember correctly.”

You cross your arms and look up, pretending to be deep in thought before facing him again with a fraudulent shock. “Oh right!” you exclaim exaggeratedly. “You kissed me back,” you add in almost a sing-song manner.

You put an elbow on the table and rest your cheek on your palm as you hold his glare with a snide grin. “How about that?”

He continues shooting daggers at you but you don’t falter. Quite soon enough, he lets up and returns to the passive, apathetic face he usually wears, which signals your victory for the argument. “Like you said, it was one of those dumb on the spot whims.”

You nod agreeably. “Alright, great. Now that that has been established, let me reassure you. It’s never ever gonna happen again. Ever.”

Your eyes are devoid of any humor while your words drip with firm resolve. Yet, he finds it off that you’re not asking him to do the same given that you both just agreed that you are equally accountable for that imprudent act. He is almost just as guilty.

“Aren’t you going to ask the same from me?”

Your somber expression breaks into a humored one as a laugh rumbles from your throat. You shake your head in comical delight while you look at him. “No, I won’t. Actually...” you drift off as you scoot closer to him until you’re right beside him. “Give it your best shot.”

You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. Did you really just dare him to kiss you? Kiss those stupid lips and have a repeat of that appalling night?

Should he?

He would do it just to erase the smug off your face, just to prove you wrong. But similar to that night, he can’t bring himself to do it. He hates the idea of instigating such a thing.

Even more so now that he’s already had a taste of those lips. Those lips that felt too exquisite that it infuriated him. Those lips that took away his logical thinking. With you offering those lips to him so generously, you make him hate them even more. That pretty face and that playful smile of yours do nothing but add to his fury.

“Can you get your face away from me?”

You peek one eye open before bursting into laughter, making his displeasure towards you skyrocket. Why the fuck is he always your laughing stock?

“See? This is why I don’t mind you coming over, Tsukishima. I bet if I strip naked right now, you’d walk out in a heartbeat.”

His scowl deepens. The mental image of your unclad body is very much unwelcome and unappreciated. “Bring that up again and I really will leave,” he snaps.

Even with your smile intact, your humored expression dissolves a bit and is replaced by a curious guise.

“You know, everyone likes me except you,” you say with no shred of diffidence.

You really are full of yourself. You might be ‘likeable’ for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean every single person you meet actually likes you. He’s certain there are people who you rub off the wrong way -- people like him.

“Isn’t that a bit too conceited, even for you?”

You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Maybe so. But you’re the only person who shoves your blatant dislike on my face.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it for the past three years,” he replies as he flips his laptop open and boots it up so he can turn his attention somewhere other than you.

“I didn’t need to work with you like this for the past three years.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with the conversation so he doesn’t respond anymore. He’s certain you know why he finds you a pain in the neck. You constantly get on his grill with every opportunity you get. Maybe if you didn’t, he could actually tolerate your topsy turvy persona. But it’s as if it’s your personal mission to aggravate him.

“I’m putting the deal I offered during the trip,” you announce.

“What deal?” he asks as he starts typing bullet points of what should be done today so he can go home already.

“Forget I’m the annoying manager when it’s just us two. And I won’t deliberately piss you off.”

He types the last bullet point before returning his attention on you. “Then what? I suddenly become nice to you?”

“Hell no! I’m not asking for a fucking miracle. It’s not like you’re ever nice to anybody. Geez!” you explain derisively. “I just want us to have a conversation where you’re not giving me death glares.”

You give him a smile, one that lacks your usual haughtiness. Still, he can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’ll actually manage to hold the deal you’re proposing. Truth be told, he wants it. He can’t handle you being your usual if you two have to meet beyond training hours and, even worse, in private.

If this keeps up, he might end up cursing this subject by the end of the semester, which would be a waste because likes this subject way too much for you to taint it with your idiocy.

“Deliver your end of the bargain. Then you’ll have mine.”

Your eyes twinkle with glee at his semi-approval. “We have a deal then.”

You go back to where you’re seated a while ago and proceed to start discussing at hand.

With the start of the game season, training has become more intense. Coach Mira had the team work on the weak points she identified with the help of the data you tallied from last season’s games.

“Kyoutani! Do not lower those arms just yet. Keep those elbows up when you block,” Coach yells at him, as Kogane spiked from the other side of the court.

She looks over at the other players practicing their jump serves. She furrows her brows at something. Following her line of sight, you see that it falls on Tsukishima.

On his next serve, the ball spins ferociously but is of low height that it hits the middle of the night.

“Y/n,” Coach calls out. She didn’t have to say anything else as she cocks her head to Tsukishima’s direction with a telling expression on her face. She’s asking you to handle him, and you know exactly why.

Before he can toss the ball for another jump serve, you yell out merrily which you know will definitely catch his ears, “ Tsukki!! ” and jog to where he is. His blank expression turns into a scowl when you reach him.

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“You’re so mean. Aren’t we close enough for me to call you ‘ Tsukki ’?.” You ask with a dramatic pout and exaggerated false woes that he visibly cringes after hearing it.

He doesn’t respond to your pretentious act. “Why are you here?”

You instantly lose the cheeky act and get to what Coach Mira wants to let him know. You’re just going to twist the words a bit to his ‘liking.’

This is the problem you noticed with Tsukishima, one worse than his rotten way of interacting with the team. He can be incredibly unmotivated at times, and when he is, he only gives the bare minimum amount of effort.

It’s the one thing you can say you truly dislike about him because he’s a professional athlete for crying out loud. It doesn’t matter if he’s unmotivated, uninspired, or doesn’t feel like trying. He should be disciplined enough to push himself to put as much work as he usually does when training.

“You’re not going to get those serves in with that half-assed attitude of yours,” you say sternly while you eye him with a threatening stare.

His face scrunches in utter displeasure. He’s well aware that he’s not feeling his best today and he’d rather do blocking drills for the whole raining than do ten consecutive jump serves.

“Since enthusiasm is the answer to everything else, why don’t you try it?” He bites back, which you obviously weren’t expecting. He’s always irritated when you point out his mistakes, but thus far he has always stayed silent.

Maybe the amount of time you’re spending together outside the gymnasium has made him reach the limit of his patience… which isn’t even a lot to begin with.

“Are you serious?” you ask incredulously.

Of course he wasn’t. You might have some sort of experience with volleyball (although he doesn’t know to which extent), but jump serves are difficult. The coordination of the toss and the run up to hit it at the right angle is aggravatingly hard to pull off, especially for him since jump serves need tons of practice.

He detests the practice for it; he needs to run, jump, and swing his arm over and over. It is boring and tiring for him because it is purely based on physical prowess, compared to practicing blocking where he’s actually thinking.

He thought you’d leave him alone when you stepped away. Instead, you come back with a ball in your hand. You dribble it off the floor with unbendable focus as if you’re trying to recall something.

“Are you serious?” he’s the one who asks this time. He was just fucking around. He didn’t expect you’d actually respond to his provocation.

“Yep,” you answer with your full concentration on the ball in your hand as you spin it vertically. Some of the players notice what you’re up to and briefly stop what they’re doing to watch.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You bat them open with burning determination before you toss the ball.

Instead of watching the ball, he watches your form. There’s no trace of awkwardness in your movements, almost like you’ve done this frequently before. The three-step approach is nearly perfect as you propel yourself up to jump.

The sharp sound of the ball hitting your hand causes the rest of the gym to look at you. The ball spins ferociously at a height he’s not sure is sufficient to get over the other side of the court. He wishes it won’t. That would be the second worst thing you could ever do to him, the first one being that certain occurrence he’d rather not think about again.

You falter on your feet when you descend from your leap but you immediately look up to see if your serve makes it. Everyone else, including him, is on the edge as they watch whether the ball will get in or not.

It roughly scrapes the edge of the net, effectively thwarting its velocity. Still, it bounces off and lands inside the opposing court, causing the rest of the team to cheer you on as the ball hits the floor.

You seem to forget for a short while that you did it to spite him as your face beams with inexplicable joy while his contorts with ire.

Even if the momentum of the ball was broken, you still managed to get it over - the one thing he hadn’t been able to do from his last eight attempts. Meanwhile, you did it on your first.

You definitely had a lot of experience in high school. No beginner can manage to do a jump serve like that, even if it was flawed.

‘Shit,’ he silently curses when you face him with a cocky grin disguised as a pleasant one.

“Who knew that my experience being an outside hitter and captain of my high school team would still be useful as your manager?” you ask as you slowly walk towards him.

He doesn’ expect that your knowledge about the sport came from first-hand experience. He thought you’re manager of another team previously or just a crazy volleyball enthusiast.

You pick up another ball and softly push it against his rib as you look up to him with contempt. “Don’t tell me I can do better than you,” you spur him on with squinted eyes.

He snatches the ball away from your hands and steps back from the serving line. He spins the ball one time and tosses it high. Instead of a three-step approach, he makes it a four to increase his vertical jump. He tosses it high enough and channels all his rage for you at the ball.

With how high he jumped, the ball easily goes over the net. Its trajectory curves when it crosses over and hits a spot a little bit just beyond the end line.

He clenches his fist at his another failed attempt despite exerting more than necessary effort for that shot. He avoids looking at you for he’d be put in an even worse mood if sees that taunting grin of yours.

But of course you had to make yourself seen and intentionally go in front of him with an impressed look in your face instead of a condescending one.

“That was great! Holy shit. It was just a smidge out. Wow.” You applaud him earnestly, and as much as he despises it, it makes him a little less bad about that missed shot.

“Can you leave me alone now?” He drives you away to fend off the stupid feeling. He’d rather you just walk away and don’t say anything. “Not like that serve mattered,” he mutters in annoyance.

“What are you talking about? It was awesome!” you yell out with your eyes shining with flagrant admiration, which annoyingly strokes his ego.

“Just a bit less and it would have been in a spot difficult to return,” you remark as you pat his shoulders approvingly before heeding his request to leave and go back to where Coach is.

“Sorry, Coach. I distracted everyone else,” you scratch your head with an apologetic smile when you return.

“I’d tell you off, but everyone seems more motivated now, so good work I guess,” she commends you with a satisfactory tone.

“He looks really pissed though,” Coach Mira adds as she glances at the blonde middle blocker.

“More than you know, Coach,” you reply with a wide smile as he serves another ball and gets it in this time.

Prior to your meeting with Tsukishima today, you proposed to finish the project as soon as possible so you can both focus on other other uni subjects on top of training hours. He immediately agreed, which didn’t surprise you because even though it’s not game season, you’re pretty sure he can’t wait to stop having to see you.

The project’s deadline is in three months, but you believe you can finish it in less than two if you meet up at least twice a week to work on it.

It should be okay, given that you both agreed to have a truce of some sort from the usual dynamic of your relationship. You actually think that it’s not going to work out smoothly, but you still suggested it with the hopes of decreasing his animosity towards you. Yes, it’s fun and amusing most of the time, but outside the gym where you’re just a classmate and not his manager, it’s kinda draining to deal with it.

“Won’t your roommate mind if there’s a stranger in your room?” he asks as he sits down and rummages through his bag.

“Oh.” You thought he already figured it out because he didn’t ask about it on his first visit. “Didn’t I tell you before? I don’t have a roommate.”

His eyes immediately go to your bunk bed that you didn’t bother getting replaced because it’s convenient when you’re too tired. You usually just mindlessly throw your stuff at the top bunk for a later clean-up.

“Wanted the whole room to myself,” you add.

“Spoiled, little rich brat, aren’t you?” He really doesn’t have much basis for his statement. He just wants to say something nasty and sneer at you because he wants to get back at how you called him out during training the other day.

When he meets your gaze, you raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him about your agreement while working on the project. He purses his lips to the side and returns to his passive expression without saying anything. You roll your eyes in response.

“Well if being a scholar while working as your manager is being a spoiled rich brat, then by all means. Do consider me one,” you answer before looking back on your screen.

He would have never thought you were a university scholar. You don’t look like the type. You’re way too carefree and all over the place. He would’ve thought it was a joke, if not for the tiny offended glint he caught when he said you’re a spoiled brat.

That’s exactly the reaction he wants to get from you, yet it didn’t feel satisfactory. On the contrary, it’s making him feel like a prick. He is being one, but he doesn’t expect to feel like one, especially towards you who does nothing but get on his skin.

Still, hell would freeze over before he apologizes. Instead, he prods on the topic.

“Why would you even work as a manager if you’re already a scholar?”

It doesn’t make sense to him. You don’t need the work if your university fees are already waived. It will just pile on to the academic requirements you will need to maintain.

Your hand stops scrolling on your mouse as your eyes soften, still remaining on your laptop. “Cause I love it,” you utter like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

The look in your eyes is instantly replaced by mockery when you lift them to meet his.

“Someone’s being inquisitive today.”

He gets his headphones out and plugs it to his laptop. He really is curious why you chose you to be their manager, but you just had to be an obnoxious bitch and break the agreement you offered to him just the other day.

He knows you’re too much of a chaos to actually pull it off, so instead of wasting his energy by being irritated by you for the day, he’d rather pretend you’re not there.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you say loudly with a wide smile, yet he can see the sincerity of the apology through the slight panic in your orbs. You must have realized he’s had enough of your shit. “My bad. Old habits hard.” You laugh nervously.

You speak again when he puts down his headphones on the table. “I may have quit the sport, but I still love it. I love taking care of players like you guys who have the same passion for it.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s worth it,” he comments with unheld honesty. You could have a lot of time off of your hands if you quit being their manager. You don’t even need the job.

You plant your hands on the floor and lean back as your gaze drifts to the photos of the team displayed on your desk.

“You might be right. A marine science student dedicating her time on sports even though she’s not an athlete? It does sound impractical. But,” you revert your eyes back to him as you continue on, “it makes me happy. That alone makes it worth it. Even if I don’t get paid, I’d still do it.”

Your face glows with pride and joy with your last statement, completely undeterred by his earlier cynicism. If anything, you look even more convinced that you’re doing the right thing.

He can’t tell if he finds it admirable or disturbing. Probably the latter.

“There’s more to life than just sleep, study, and survive, don’t you think?”

It was a rhetorical question that he would’ve still refuted if someone told him that years ago. Back in his freshman year in high school, he thought overzealous passion was stupid. Unless an individual is some sort of prodigy, it wouldn’t get them anywhere even if they keep trying to death.

Still, he put in a lot of work -- more than he should -- when he was playing in Karasuno. What was just a club became entirely something else for him, which, up until now, he still hasn’t put quite a finger on.

When he graduated from Karasuno, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to continue playing, but there was a nagging feeling behind his head that he shouldn’t. He thought that that part of his life was already over and while it was good while it lasted, it was time to move one.

Yet, when he was handed out an application form for the university’s college team, he found himself grabbing the sheet of paper.

He didn’t have any reason to pursue it beyond high school. He knows he’s good, but he’s not that good. He was at university already. It was time to focus on his future and ignore the itch to hold the ball with five other players on his side of the court.

What’s even more absurd was the next day, he submitted the application form and tried out for the team. He said to himself it wouldn’t hurt to go on playing until he has finally had enough. He’d just ride it out until he got tired of it.

In his sophomore year, he was scouted by Sendai Frogs and that’s when he knew that the unreasonable passion he has for volleyball is not going to go away. Even now in his graduating semester, he’s still not ready to give it up.

He won’t admit it in your face, but, in a way, he can agree with what you just said. Life is more than just getting by and surviving. That’s the only reason he can think of to justify his choice to continue volleyball: so that he wouldn’t have this constant dissonance that pursuing the sport is a vacuous path he’s treading on.

“Anyways, back to work now, yeah?”

You smile briefly at him and return to the research you’re tasked to do. He puts his headphones back in his bag and gets back to his own task as well.

He thought all is well and you won’t pester him until you both finish what you’re supposed to accomplish for the day. Unfortunately, he thought wrong.

You suddenly close your laptop and start whining.

“Tsukki.”

As usual, he does his best to not acknowledge your existence.

“Tsukkiii, ” you whine louder.

For the love of God, you sound the most annoying when you use his nickname. Even though you’ve used it several times now, he’s still not used to it. In fact, he does not believe he will ever get used to it. Shimizu and Yachi not even once called him that, and they were more respectable managers than you are. Sort of. It doesn’t matter that you’re more active and hands on when managing the team.

“Tsuuuk -”

“What?!” You successfully manage to get his eyes off the screen.

“I’m bored,” you pout.

He glares at you unbelievably. What are you, a five-year-old?

“And that is my problem, how?” he asks with disdain.

“Aren’t you getting tired?” you ask back, unfazed by his blatant irritation. But then again, you never are.

He is getting tired too, but he’d rather drag his brains and eyes out than rest and extend the time he’s going to spend with you.

“Let’s take a break, please, ” you cry out with pleading eyes.

“I don’t care what you do. Just leave me out of it.” He puts his attention back on his laptop and looks for the journal article he found significant among the other tabs he opened.

“I’ll feel guilty if I see you still at it while I goof around,” you admit.

He really couldn’t care any less. None of what you’re blabbering about is any of his concern. If you keep at it, he’ll just take out his headphones again to drown out your childish whining.

“I know!” You suddenly perk up. “Let’s review for our quiz,” you suggest eagerly. “We have one tomorrow, right?”

He almost smirks at your suggestion, but he manages to suppress it. He’d rather not let you see that he’s pleasantly amused with your suggestion.

He didn’t expect that that was your idea of taking a break. He thought you were going to propose something completely absurd like watch stupid videos online because that’s something he could totally see you doing on your free time.

But yeah, he can definitely use a review. It would be a productive break from the strenuous researching and writing you two have been doing.

Even though he still hasn’t verbally agreed, you continue on. “To make it interesting, there’s a penalty for every wrong answer.”

He sits up straight, pushing his glasses closer to his face as you successfully gain his full attention. “What penalty?”

Your smile widens when you realize that he’s finally acknowledging your idea of taking a break.

“Okay, okay.” You rub your hands together in excitement before you clasp them together. “For every wrong answer you get, you need to say something nice about me. And of course vice versa.”

He scowls at the idea. “I prefer the opposite. Get the answer wrong and you get insulted. That sounds more of a punishment.”

You shake your head with your lips pressed into a thin line from disapproval. “Nope. If I get even one wrong answer. I’m sure you’ll get into a litany of rude shit you piled up against me over the years. And I’ll just sit here uncaringly receiving your fury. Does that excite you?”

Hell no. It will infuriate him even more if he throws something at you and you just take it apathetically. But he still doesn’t agree with your initial mechanics. It’s not fair to him.

“No, it doesn’t. But the consequence of a wrong answer is too easy for you.”

You place a palm on your chest and gape at him. “Me? Too easy for me ?”

You break into a boisterous laugh while still maintaining eye contact with him. He just stares back at you stupefied with no idea what you found so hilarious.

“Tsukishima,” you say after recovering from your disparaging hoots of laughter. “I can think of literally one nice thing about you. Maybe two if I tried hard enough,” you explain with your face still crinkled with the laughter you’re trying hard to contain.

If you’re trying to provok him to take on your challenge, you definitely succeeding. “Fine,” he hisses.

Your laughter is completely thwarted when your eyes widen with delight as he succumbs to your plan.

“Great! Okay, two more rules. One, objective questions only. Two, we can’t say anything that involves Volleyball. For example, you can’t tell me that I’m a great manager, because I’m very much aware of that already, okay?”

His frown only deepens from your conceitedness, only to realize that that’s the only aspect of you he’d consider complimenting you about.

“But there is nothing else nice about you other than that,” he says without any trace of sarcasm or ridicule, only stating what he considers the truth.

But you don’t take any offense in his statement. You’re expecting as much. That’s why you added two more rules to push the both of you to take the review seriously.

“Better not get anything wrong then,” you counter easily because it’s as simple as that. It’s a review just for a quiz after all. He shouldn’t be that worried.

“Thirty minutes to review. Then let’s start the quiz?”

You take that he’s fine with it since he closes his laptop and gets his set of notes from his bag.

You get your phone and set a thirty minute timer. You do just as he does and focus on your own notes, skimming over the last two chapters covered during lectures. You concentrate on your learning materials but the alarm sets off after what seemed like ten minutes to you.

You frantically check your phone to see if you put the wrong time, but you didn’t. Thirty minute have indeed passed.

When you glance at Tsukishima, he’s already looking at you with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. He must have finished before the timer went off. He wouldn’t have that smug expression if not.

Even though you haven’t fully gone over the last parts of the lesson covered, you can’t help but be enlivened at how competitive he is. He must really hate losing.

You notice it too with the way he plays volleyball. He might look calm on the surface, but you know he wants to crush his opponents. And right now, that opponent is you.

His muted excitement affects you. Even though you’re not totally prepared, you’re confident with your own wits.

“Ladies first, so go ahead, Tsukishima.”

He clicks his tongue, his usual habit when he’s irked with something, but this one was forced to make it appear as if he didn’t like what you said. But you can tell that he doesn’t give a shit about that and he actually can’t wait to ask away just to so you can get it wrong.

Unfortunately for him though, you two are just exchanging questions when your mini game starts. He answers your questions without hesitation and you do just the same since most of his questions are in your own list that’s supposed to be for him.

“What’s the movable membrane found on the eyes of amphibians?” It’s his sixth question that has you racking your brain for the correct answer. When you don’t respond immediately, he sniggers like he’s already won.

But you do know the answer, or at least the first letter of it. It's the letter N. N-something membrane.

“Nictaling membrane,” you answer unsurely.

The spread of his wicked smile immediately tells you you’re wrong. “It’s nictating,” he corrects you.

“Oh come on! I’m just one letter off,” you strongly reason out.

“Yeah, and that would still be marked wrong in the actual quiz,” he refutes.

Damn it. He’s right. That one letter makes a whole lot of difference your professor will definitely not let go.

He places one elbow on the table and rests his chin at the back of his hand, keeping his eyes trained on you as he silently anticipates for you to pay the price of your penalty.

You bite your lip disquietly when you realize the rule you set was a double-edged sword for you can’t also think of anything nice to say about him. There’s that terrible attitude of his which is usually your source of fun, but not exactly something you can call nice.

You have something in your mind, but your pride won’t let you voice it out.

He starts tapping the table with his fingers. “You’re wasting both our time, y/n.”

You accept your defeat and tell him anyway. “Fine. I think you’re smarter than me,” you confess.

You expect him to agree unanimously, but instead he looks at you stupefied, blinking a few times without saying anything.

“But you’re a scholar,” he remarks. You’re not sure if he just disagreed with you or he’s just putting that fact out in the open.

“Well, yeah. But I’m just really good at studying and have good time management. You’re actually smart. You’re critical with stuff,” you explain.

You cheated a bit with your answer since most of your basis is from volleyball games. Although your trip last time is also proof of that. He provided really good input on how you should go about with the project.

“Okay! Moving on,” you proceed before he can comment further on what you just said and milk it to his benefit.

You ask another question, which he also knows that correct answer to. Originally, you just wanted a fun but effective way of reviewing, but now you kind of want him to get at least one question wrong so you can get even.

“What do you call the structure the lower vertebrae of anurans is fused into?” he asks another difficult question.

You rub your palms on your face, your frustration clouding your mind from recalling what it could possibly be. You push your hair back and sigh when you realize that you’re not getting this one either.

“I don’t know,” you surrender.

His current expression is the most lively one you’ve ever seen from him outside volleyball games, but it isn't a pleasant one. He looks like a villain whose evil master plan is coming to fruition.

Maybe you should’ve just agreed with his earlier suggestion to get insulted when you get it incorrectly. You would’ve just sit it out and brush it off afterwards, not make your brain hurt even more from thinking about non-existent good traits from the guy across your table.

You look around as you desperately try to think of something remotely nice about him.

“Oh,” your eyes meet his right the moment you recall that instance, and form a genuine smile as you remember it once more.

“It was real nice of you to let me lean on you on the way back to Miyagi last week.”

He removes his elbow from the table and fixes his posture, losing the lax and confident aura he had two questions ago.

“You would have woken up face down on the bus floor if I didn’t,” he says defensively as if what he did needs that explanation for it to be acceptable.

You honestly thought he’d rather let you fall flat on the floor. You’re about to ask him back then if he was sure, but you just accepted his angry, yet generous offer which you didn’t expect to come from him.

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d let me rest on your shoulder, so thanks,” you say earnestly, not a trace of your usual cheekiness present.

“It felt nice and comfortable” you add reservedly. You’ve been wanting to thank him but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward for you’re only used to dealing with grouchy Tsukishima.

It’s only then you realize that despite his palpable dislike towards you, he’s not a complete asshole and still cared enough for your welfare that time.

He remains expressionless with his eyes drifting down to his notes, avoiding your gaze as he does so. “The answer is coccyx, also called urostyle,” he ushers back to the question you got wrong, dismissing what you just divulged, which you’re thankful for because you feel like fidgeting with what just dawned on you.

“My turn again then!” you said too loudly as you try to shake off the feeling and put your focus back on the review.

You read the only item left in your list, still hoping that he gets it wrong since this is the last.

“What part of the amphibian nervous system regulates heart and respiratory rates?”

Unlike previous questions, he doesn’t answer off the bat this time.

“You’re wasting both our time, Tsukishima,” you repeat what he said to you earlier even though it's only been seconds after you uttered your question.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know the answer,” he declares with reassured confidence. “It’s the cerebrum.”

You decide to hold his gaze for two second before you burst his bubble. “Fucking finally!” you rejoice in his defeat.

“Close enough, Tsukishima. It’s the cerebellum,” you announce all too cheerfully.

He hurriedly gets his notes and cross checks if you’re actually telling the truth. You just watch him scramble with a very pleased smile on your face as he goes rigid.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He must have seen that you were telling the truth.

You start squirming in your seat. Oh man, you’re way too excited to hear what he has to say about you. You want to egg him on, to tell him to hurry up but that might affect what he’s going to say so you force yourself to shut up.

He raises his gaze at you while you make sure you’re not smiling too wide to annoy him even though you’re reeling from anticipation.

He still doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s thinking based on the way he’s studying your face.

“You have a slightly above average face.”

You run that by again in your head, not understanding what he meant by it at first.

Above average face? Did he just say you’re pretty if translated from a socially incapacitated person’s language? Is that why he was staring so hard at you?

Of all the things he could choose to say something about, he decides to compliment your appearance? You know that you're a bit good-looking, but you don’t think he notices it. He doesn’t seem to be the type to care about that stuff.

Even when you first met, he just looked at you with a vacant expression and greeted you blandly out of courtesy while the rest of the team ogled at you. His apathetic eyes eventually turned scornful over time because of how often you pick on him, and despite that, he does acknowledge that you are pretty.

You’re used to being showered with admiration because of your face so you’ve developed a natural response to it: a gleeful smile with a spritely ‘aww, thanks!’

But with Tsukishima, it doesn’t kick in. Instead, you avert your gaze away from the unwanted fluttering in your chest. You can’t even look him in the eye as you try to collect yourself and think how you’ll respond to that without looking flustered.

What the heck is wrong with you? That could hardly be called a compliment. Now that you think about it, it actually sounded sort of like a product review with its lack of any fondness.

With that in mind, you manage to regain some of your composure and offer him a faint. “Um, thanks.”

Tsukishima looks at his two remaining questions he listed and even though he’s winning the game, he doesn’t feel victorious at all. Your confessions did nothing to make him feel good about himself. They were too sincere that they made him uneasy.

He also doesn’t like that he had to admit you’re pretty. He expected you’re gonna make a fuss about it. He actually would’ve preferred that than you being uncharacteristically embarrassed about it.

Something weird is definitely going on. You’re not acting like yourself and neither is he. There had been too many opportunities to badger you, but he just let them pass by. Same with you. You could have easily teased him about letting you know he finds you attractive.

“I’m out of questions,” he lies to end the damn review.

“Me too, actually,” you say with an apprehensive laugh.

So it’s not just him. You also feel the change in the atmosphere between you two. Your smile is uncertain and you look like you don't know what to do to remedy the situation -- that is, if you even know what’s wrong with it because he sure as hell doesn’t.

But even if he has no idea what’s going on, fortunately, he knows how to end it.

“I’m tired. I’m calling it a day,” he says as he starts packing up his stuff.

You seem to agree since you don’t say anything and just watch him collect his things. You only react when he stands up.

“Oh yeah. Sure!” You stand up as well.

“I can see my way out on my own,” he stops you when you start to head for the door.

You freeze on the spot then nod timidly. “Okay.”

As soon as he steps out and closes the door, you plop yourself back to where you were sitting. You grasp the edges of your table as you softly bang your head against it, gasping a heavy breath of relief when the air becomes undoubtedly lighter after he is gone.

“What the fuck was that?” you mumble with your cheek against the wooden surface.

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @mitzuya @yamigoop

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima smut #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader #tags pls work

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cloudystevie · 4 years

Note

Can you write something abt announcing your relationship to the public w/ Chris but he just trolls on twitter for an hr before fully confirming? -😌

i just realized when i finished writing this that you asked for him to troll for an hour but i ended up making it an all day sort of thing. i hope that’s okay?

lets get into it boys

you and chris wanted to keep your relationship under wraps for a little while

you really wanted to enjoy each others company without having to worry about other people

you had a couple really close calls with the paps but luckily managed to escape

its about a year into your relationship and you two could not be happier

over quarantine you guys had a couple conversations on whether you wanted to go public soon

and you decided that you were ready for it and chris was obviously ecstatic he could show off his pretty girl to the world

but you couldn’t just let the world know with a simple tweet or instagram post

no, that’s just way too boring

so you two come up with the genius plan to drop little hints and tease everyone before dropping the big bomb on them

it started with a little instagram story that he told you to laugh in the background and if people were paying attention they would pick it up

it was a little clip of dodger rolling around and halfway through the video, he bumps his nose on the wall and you giggle a little bit, chris following with a deep laugh

he posts it and you can tell you’re gonna have a lot of fun today

you two look at the responses of people as they go onto twitter to point out a female laugh in the background

you guys die laughing at the things some people are saying

a couple hours later chris posts a picture of his book, and he zooms a little out so you can see legs in the back

it was subtle but would definitely get the job done

chris couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that absolutely no one cared about his book, they just wanted to know whose legs those were

after some suggestive replies to comments on his posts that day, the media was having a fucking field day

everyone was going crazy trying to figure who this mystery woman was

it was night time and you two cuddled up in bed as chris decided to drop the final bomb

he took a selfie with you on his chest as you scrolled through your phone completely unaware of his phone camera on you

i have to add this in but chris loves taking pictures of you, you’re practically art to him and he thinks that you should be admired and your beauty should be captured forever, but he really loves the ones where you’re not paying attention to his camera and are just doing your own thing. those ones are gold for him

so he tells you he’s about to post and as much as you are super excited you’re also kind of nervous because what if they think you’re not good enough

but chris is quick to shush you and trash any negative thoughts you have about yourself as he types up a short sweet little caption

“my girl.”

you two watch as his phone fucking blows up with notifications

“oh my god who is she, we need to find her instagram, quick!”

“she’s so breathtaking chris is a lucky guy for sure!”

“oh my god, its happening!! chris finally has a girlfriend, thank god we thought you were gonna die single.”

and so many more positive comments as you felt like a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders

chris puts his phone down as he turns to cover you in kisses

you squeal at his touch and giggle loudly

chris decides that he would do anything to hear that sound falling from your lips

“can i be honest babe, i’m just excited i can kiss you while we’re outside now.”

he gives you a cheeky smile and you slap the frat boy out of him

lemme know how i did!!!

#😌 anon #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans drabble #chris evans fluff #requests #chris evans requests

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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years

Text

Photograph - @doubleredweek Day 1

Read on AO3

Jason walks leisurely down the hall of the Queen family cabin; he’s still getting used to being welcome here even if he has a key and an open invitation these days.

He left Roy in the study that’s more like the laboratory of a mad scientist with a specific arrow fetish talking with Oliver at length about some new trick arrow and the detailed schematics of it to seek out Lian.

Last night had been what Jason’s pretty sure has come to be her most anticipated Saturday of every month. Sleepover night with aunt Mia and grandma Dinah, which also means date night for Jason and Roy which usually means a nice dinner and sex in rooms that aren’t as private as their bedroom and occasionally means busting up a criminal front and then having a quickie on a roof.

Somewhere down this long hallway Lian is fast asleep, still conked out from the night before that was no doubt filled with far too many cookies and a bedtime triple past what hers usually is.

He takes his time looking at the many framed photos that line the walls. These aren’t the Queen family portraits or red carpet moments that the general public gets to see, these are Dinah Lance specials. Somewhere along the line on one of her tours with her band she’d picked up a camera and just never stopped clicking.

The in between moments are what she calls them, they’re her favorite kind to capture. The pure, unfiltered moments of the people she loves most. Lian occupies most of the wall these days, a grandchild edging out just about everyone else on the photo priority scale.

There are ones of her as a baby and one’s all the way up to as recent as last week’s bi-monthly Oliver Queen chili cookout. Jason smiles at the photo then grimaces at the memory of washing all that chili out of her hair.

A few other new ones have been peppered in from last week, Connor and Kyle in a rare moment where Kyle isn’t three galaxies away, Mia holding a bowl of chili the size of her head. He’s nearing the end of the hall close to the family room the girls use as their base camp for sleepovers when he stops dead in his tracks.

Because on the wall between a selfie of Dinah and Ollie on some beach and picture of Emiko casually flipping off her brother on Christmas morning is Jason and Roy pressed close together on a park bench, Roy’s arm slung across Jason’s shoulders light smiles on both of their faces laughing about some dumb joke Roy had made. He remembers the day, a not too hot, but not too cold spring afternoon they both had free so they took Lian to the park. Dinah had run into them on her way home and she had been immediately dragged over to the swings by Lian. Jason hadn’t even realized she had her camera on her at all.

It’s a rare photo of them, they haven’t exactly been at this very long. Jason only moved in three months ago after nearly two years of subtle dating. Dating as superheroes is hard enough, add in that one half of them is often wanted by any number of federal agencies at any given moment and the other half is raising a four-year-old daughter on his own and it gets even more complicated. So they’ve taken their time, keeping things quiet for as long as they could even though it killed Roy not to shout it from the rooftops. The nature of keeping it slow and quiet meant photos hadn’t been a priority.

Add in that Jason habitually shies from cameras constantly and it’s likely this is maybe only the second or third photo of them out of costume and not tacked up on wanted board somewhere that’s ever been taken. It’s definitely the first one that’s made it onto the Queen family wall.

He feels weirdly honored. He knows they’ve accepted him, Ollie somewhat reluctantly and the others nearly without hesitation, but he didn’t think he was considered family, family. Not the kind that made it onto the coveted family walls, more like the kind that came to events and treated their family member with love and respect so he was welcome, but never quite fully in. Jason was content with that, as long as he and Oliver could have civil conversations and he got to keep loving Roy and Lian without any interference he was perfectly happy.

This though. This is beyond that. This he never expected.

“Hey, you’re here!” Dinah says pulling his eyes away from the photo. She makes her way down the hall towards him, looking far more put together than any woman who hosted a sleepover with a four-year-old the night before should at 8:30 in the morning.

She pulls him in for a quick hug and then leans against the wall beside the photo.

“You like it?” she asks with a smile. He nods still kind of shocked it’s even there in the first place. “You’re a hard one to get pictures of,” she says with a chuckle.

She taps lightly at the glass frame. “I never quite manage to get your face in one, it’s like no matter how stealthy I am you know I’ve got that camera pointed your way. Creature of bat habit, I guess, huh?”

Jason shrugs, “Something like that yeah.”

“When I was going through my camera roll and spotted that one, I quite literally shouted with joy, Ollie thought I was watching a Blades game,” she laughs with a fond shake of her head. “You were the only member of the family not on the wall, even Jade has one with Lian and she never comes to the chili cookouts.”

Jason’s heart skips at beat at the word family a no doubt shocked look on his face that Dinah, always perceptive Dinah catches onto immediately.

“Oh, Jason,” she says reaching out a hand to comfortingly rest on his arm. “That’s another bat habit. Of course you’re family.”

Jason’s not one for crying and he’s definitely not one for vulnerability in front of anyone that isn’t Roy, but for a moment he feels like he might just break those rules of his in front of Dinah. He shakes it off quickly putting his hand on top of Dinah’s for one quick squeeze.

“It’s a good picture,” he says. “You should print a copy for us, Roy’s always complaining that the best photos he has of me are crime scene pictures.”

Dinah laughs and the emotional tension Jason hadn’t quite intended for dissipates just as he hoped it would.

“I’ll get it done and give it to you guys at dinner next week,” she says as she walks around him and gestures to the door at the far end of the hall. “Let’s go get the princess so you can take her home.”

Jason nods looking back at the photo one last time a small smile on his lips before he follows after Dinah to get Lian, before he follows his family.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

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thewidowsghost · 4 years

Text

The Sky’s Tsunami - Chapter 5

3rd Person POV

(Y/n) storms out of the plane to stare a Coulson as LOLA lands, (Y/n)'s shoulder freshly bandaged from her gunshot wound.

"You called my sister! Why the hell did you call my sister?!" (Y/n) yells at the man and Skye steps back.

"I called Clint too," Coulson says.

"What the hell! That's even worse!" (Y/n) storms back onto the plane, stopping as she runs into a curly-haired redhead and a spiky-haired blonde.

Ward, Skye, May, Coulson, Simmons, and Fitz watch as the taller redhead screams at (Y/n) in Russian.

(Y/n) shoots a desperate glance at Clint and he finally comes to her rescue.

"Natasha," everyone's head turns to the tall redhead at the blonde's word. "Calm down, it's not like she's not been shot before."

"I'm staying until her shoulder's healed," Natasha says.

(Y/n) smiles, letting out a little laugh, "Of course you are." Then she turns to Clint. "But you're not staying, right Hawkeye?"

Everyone but Coulson's jaws drop.

"Shut it, (Y/n). I'm leaving," Clint says, giving (Y/n) a hug.

"Bye Clint," (Y/n) says, using her uninjured arm to nudge her friend back towards the stairs to get into the Quinjet. "Wait, who's taking care of my kitten?" she asks.

"Clint," Natasha answers simply.

(Y/n) nods. "Now, let me take you to my office," (Y/n) glares at her sister, grabbing her upper arm.

"(Y/n)'s not an Avenger though, is she?" Jemma asks, watching as (Y/n) drags her sister upstairs.

"No, I think we'd know," Fitz reasons.

(Y/n) walks back down the spiral staircase to help Skye carry her things onto the Bus.

(Y/n) takes a duffel bag and Skye a box of some of her things.

"I'd carry more -" (Y/n) is cut off.

"I'd murder you," Natasha says, taking the duffel from (Y/n).

"You know I love you, but I really hate you sometimes," (Y/n) complains and Skye watches the two bicker as they walk up the spiral staircase. "And by the way, my shoulder's healed, you can leave now," (Y/n) smiles, taking off the sling.

Natasha narrows her eyes, staring at (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"Fine," Natasha shakes her head, before smiling. "I'm still staying," she says and (Y/n) groans.

"You're mean," (Y/n) pouts.

"After this whole thing, I'm wondering where my bunk is," Skye says.

"Right, follow me," (Y/n) says, pointing to a bunk near her office. "And Nat, your's is here," she points to the farthest bunk away.

(Y/n) leaves the two and walks into the debriefing room.

"We've been called in to investigate an 0-8-4," Ward says as she walks in. "We all know what that means."

"Yeah, it means," (Y/n) says. "It means, we don't know what that means."

"Officially, it's an airborne mobile command station," Fitz says, leaning on the wall by Skye's bunk. "But we call it the Bus. We find it best to use shorthand when in the field. But everything has to be just so, you know, because of the danger."

"Yeah, I've been up here before," Skye answers, sitting down on her bed, "but I didn't see much because of the bag Agent Ward had put over my head."

"Yes, so sorry about that," Simmons says. "Water?" she asks, grabbing a bottle from a nearby table.

"Wheels up in two, lock it or lose it," May's voice echoes over the intercom.

"What does that mean?" Skye wonders aloud.

"No backing out now," Simmons says.

"Hey," Skye says as Ward knocks on the door of her bunk. "I know we didn't really -"

"Might want to read that," Ward says, shoving a pamphlet into the brunette's hands. "This isn't like other planes."

"You can say that again," Skye mutters, opening the pamphlet and looking at it.

"Say what again?" Coulson asks as he and (Y/n) step forward.

"Sweet ride," Skye says with a dazzling smile that (Y/n) definitely didn't notice.

"I earned a little goodwill from Director Fury when I got hit right before the Battle of New York," Coulson says.

"You took a bullet?" Skye asks, an interested expression on her face.

"Ish," Coulson says.

"An Asgardian stabbed him through the heart right in front of me," (Y/n) says with a frown, "with a Chitauri scepter."

"Traumatized my little sister for months," Natasha says walking up and placing a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"You also were very upset," (Y/n) says.

"Aww!" Coulson says, looking at the Black Widow. "You were upset?" he asks.

Natasha sighs and nods.

The four go to sit down at a table and Coulson slides a coaster towards Skye for her water bottle. "Here. Use a coaster."

"I don't even know where we're going," Skye says as the four slides behind the table, (Y/n) sitting in between Skye and Natasha.

"Peru," Coulson replies.

"That's where the 0-8-4 was reported," (Y/n) adds.

"And an 0-8-4 is . . . ?" Skye asks.

"An object of unknown origin," Coulson answers. "Kind of like you."

"Team goes in, determines if it's useful or if it poses a threat," Natasha explains, smiling at the young brunette.

"The last two turned out to be pretty interesting," Coulson states.

"And what were they?" Skye asks, taking a sip of her water.

"A hammer and," Coulson nods to (Y/n), who shrinks lower in her seat.

Natasha joins May in the cockpit as the Bus lands down in a field in Peru.

The group gets into some SHIELD vans as they drive to the sight of the 0-8-4.

"Come on," (Y/n) smiles at Skye.

(Y/n) and Skye follow Fitz and Simmons walk towards the trees.

"I would love to see a capuchin in the wild," Fitz says. "Maybe even a yellow-tailed woolly monkey. You know, um, Peru has thirty-two species of monkey."

"Yeah, and close to two hundred species of snakes," Simmons pipes up. "The shushupe has a fascinating ven - venom," Simmons stuttered as Fitz's case hits one of the trucks. "It's neurotoxic, proteolytic, and hemolytic." Simmons chuckles, and Fitz does too, but more nervously.

"That's fascinating," Fitz says.

"Yeah," Jemma agrees and (Y/n) smiles at Fitz's nervousness. "Oh. No, I'd be much more concerned with earthquakes, mala -" an insect buzzes and lands on Fitz and Jemma smacks it.

"Hey!" Fitz complains.

"Ha, there's no vaccine for dengue fever," Jemma says as the two enter the wood, (Y/n) and Skye walking behind them.

(Y/n) chuckles as she holds back a branch so Skye could walk in front of her.

"Ooh, look at this," Jemma says and (Y/n) nods in appreciation.

Skye stays put as she catches sight of Coulson and Natasha as (Y/n) jogs over to walk with Fitz and Simmons.

"We should warn the people who live around here if the 0-8-4 is dangerous," Skye says, looking between Natasha and Coulson. "They're already dealing with anti-mining rebels and the shining path guerillas. I could post something."

"Remember the panic when that anti-matter meteor splashed down just off the coast of Miami, nearly devoured the city?" Coulson asks, looking up at the temple.

"No," Skye says, exchanging a glance with Natasha.

"Precisely," Coulson turns to the hacker. "Because we kept it quiet and contained."

"So, what am I doing?" Skye asks.

"Well, if it gets out, I might need you to create some kind of diversion," Coulson says, "put the public on the wrong scent."

"So everything that I'm against," Skye says, an eyebrow raised.

"Welcome to SHIELD, kid," Natasha says, patting Skye's shoulder and walking over to stand at May's side.

(Y/n) grins at FitzSimmons as they take a selfie with the temple in the background.

"Good morning, Professor," Coulson greets, stepping up to greet the Professor.

"This is Agent Coulson and I'm Agent Rushman," (Y/n) gestures to Coulson at her side. "We're with SHIELD."

"I understand you've made an interesting discovery," Coulson addresses the Professor.

The Professor sighs, "I-I'm not sure how to explain it. This temple dates back at least five hundred years. It's filled with Pre-Incan artifacts. One of them is impossible."

(Y/n) exchanges a glance with Simmons, "What is it?"

"I'm not sure," the Professor says and (Y/n) nods. "And it looks like it might be dangerous."

"That's what we're here for," Coulson says following the Professor inside.

FitzSimmons watch in amusement as Natasha walks up, clapping a hand on her sister's shoulder - the one that hadn't been shot. "Aww! Look at my baby sister taking charge!"

(Y/n) beams at sister, "Shut it. I'm a Level Eight."

A frown spreads across Natasha's face. "But how's that fair?" she whines.

"I must be better than you," (Y/n) smirks, nudging her sister affectionately before leaving her sister standing dumbfounded as (Y/n) walks into the temple.

Fitz and Simmons exchange a look, before retreating into the temple after the two Level Eight Agents.

"Exactly as we found it," the Professor says, and (Y/n) steps forward to inspect the machine in the wall.

"Who else knows about this?" Coulson questions.

"Just the Ministry," the Professor replies, and (Y/n) steps back as it begins to glow.

Word Count: 1477 words

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satsuki2406 · 4 years

Text

OPEN SKY Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

“…And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that’ll help you fly.”

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others’ expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all…

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex (nothing explicit tho), dark themes, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, toxic relationships, Strong language (Courtesy of King Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

6- Have We Got a Deal?

✒A/N:

I rewrote this chapter like three times, and hopefully, now it turned out better. I read my progress again a couple of weeks ago and it was simply, not right. I hated it so much that I decided to delete it and work again on it. The essence is the same of what I planned for this chapter and although it is a bit longer now, I took the chance to get into more detail about certain things and express better about others. The conversation between Reader-chan and Kaguya may have become a bit deeper than it used to be, but I really liked the outcome and gave me more ideas for the future plot. That's all for now.

Hope you enjoy it! q(≧▽≦q)

So, my dear sweet cousin, do you accept or not?

“W-Wait a minute! You can’t be serious, do you- do you understand the implications of what you’re saying?!” You said incredulously.

“Of course I do, why do you think we are here?” Kaguya said while she took another canape and bit it. She chewed slowly while you watched her attentively, the dread in your stomach growing by increments, exasperated for her to continue. She finally swallowed and took a sip of wine.

“So? Would you care to explain what on earth is actually happening, because you don’t expect me to believe that the cause of such an unprecedented change is because of some internet gossip” You said in a demanding tone.

“Of course it’s not, but if you are patient enough I’ll explain it to you with pleasure, so you better watch your tone with me, brat.” She hissed.

You puffed out your cheeks but nodded in cue for her to continue.

“Approximately three days ago grandmother convened a last-minute meeting in her abode to discuss this problem. At first, I thought she was overreacting about this whole ordeal, after all big corporates and companies are attacked and critized all the time, but after a long, long discussion, we all agreed that the situation should not be taken lightly and it needed to be addressed as soon as possible.”

“That bad it is?” You asked slightly concerned.

“Unfortunately,” Kaguya answered. “Walls covered in graffiti in Kyoto, people protesting and messing with the employees at the ER main entrance in Hosu, broken windows in Deika and thousands and thousands of emails and nasty messages in all our social media accounts. We had to hire the services of a whole publicity agency so they could deal with the problem, hardly. It has been difficult to contain, but it paid off because it hasn’t been leaked into any important newscast. Internet, the origin of the problem, has been another story, unfortunately, in these cases, it can be very difficult and unforgiving to work with; once something enters, is nearly impossible to pull it out and if you succeed there’s always a risk it would pop up anywhere when you least expect it.” Kaguya said while she rubbed her temples.

“Internet is a huge source of news and information for thousands of people nowadays, even millions, fake or not, and also the main responsible that this situation slipped out of control faster.”

You contemplated your next words as you soaked in all the information you just were provided with, so you could express your ideas and queries as clear as possible. “Okay…but why is everybody so angry about our current family situation? I get it’s messed up, but why go as far as vandalize privite property and nag about it on social media?” You asked slightly hesitant.

“As an institution, we had always presented and preserved ourselves as a family, working to, and for the Japanese families generation after generation, no matter where we went, we always went together, always radiating the image of a happy, healthy, and unified family. Throughout the time several members of our family had made multiple presentations in public inspiring kindness and charisma, earning the trust and love of the people, which is impressive considering the heavily hero centered world we live in. Now that there are strong rumors putting all of these apparent facts into question, some people feel mocked, disappointed, and cheated… besides other things.” Kaguya mumbled.

“Sorry I could not listen the last part Kaguya.” You said puzzled.

“Don’t worry, I was just talking to myself, the important thing is that the problem is been solved, millions will be invested but is necessary. We have already started a huge ad campaign, a lot of important heroes will be involved so we can reassure and remind people why we have been their number one choice during over a century, that we still the same and will always remain the same, that we do not change, we improve.”

“I see, but you haven’t explained what does this have to do with me going to U.A-”

“As I told you she decided to make exceptions, due to the unusual situation we are going through right now we need unusual solutions as well and as part of our ad campaign and for the sake of our image she decided that two fortunate souls would have the chance to pursue a carrier of their choice, you know to placate the masses.”

“ Of course, a different series of factors would be taken into account when examining the option chosen and its potential benefits for the interests of the company, if these results are not satisfactory, the other alternatives will be analyzed to find a more suitable one and the aforementioned process will be repeated. Once we find satisfactory results, grandmother will proceed to revise everything once more and give her approval or deny it.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that we are doing the same thing but with more options? And they are going to evaluate if we can actually perform well in these new career options?” You asked unimpressed at your grandmas’ unwillingness to let the leash lose a bit even in a situation like this.

“Exactly right, it’s a change but there are still rules nonetheless.” Kaguya affirmed as she refilled her cup again. “Don’t get me wrong, she is really mad, just the thought of sacrifice two pawns in one single move is driving her crazy”

“Which selection system will be used in this case?” You asked.

“Nominations. As you already know there are two potential candidates, besides you of course.”

“Two? But there’s other three-”

“Aya has already been selected by grandmother herself, he’ll be enrolled into U.A next year via recommendation, everything is ready and processed the only thing left is to break the news on him.”

You grimaced, anxious, and preoccupied to see your already thin chances narrow even more. Your cousin, Aya was a famous vlogger and influencer with a strongly settled fanbase in and out of Japan. His videos generally focus on his daily life, trips to cool and exotic destinations, and the typical ‘eat this’, ‘do that’ challenges that always went around the internet.

He also participated in different campaigns to raise funds for different charitable causes and was a fervent advocator of animal rights and the environment, even donating millions from his own pocket. He always did his best to involve the name of the (L/N) Group, allowing them to organize, participate and sponsor some of these events helping bust their image as a caritative, conscious, and woke organization.

The bastard overflew with kindness and charisma and knew how to surround himself with the right people to manage his channel properly, although no relatable for the regular mid-class YouTube user, you had to admit that his videos were fun, entertaining, interesting, and sometimes, informative, that was the reason they were always flooded with millions of views, comments, likes and overall the crushing success he was experiencing every time he uploaded a new one.

He’s rich, famous, handsome, and had an appealing personality, add hero to that list and you’ll get the recipe to success. It wouldn't surprise you at all if he reached the top 10 of the HBC in a year just out of sheer popularity. His quirk is also fitted for a hero, he’ll need some serious training, but nothing that money and elite PT could not manage.

“How am I supposed to compete with that?” You whispered with your head down watching how your knuckles turned whiter as your hands crinkled your uniform skirt.

“Don’t trouble yourself with what you’re not supposed to, Aya is not competition, not anymore, instead try to focus on the actual competition, and may I add that you got a really big chance with my brother out of the picture. Kaguya smirked at you confidently.

“You think so?” You asked doubtfully.

“Believe me (Y/N), my sister is really smart and competent, but has the charm and social skills of a cardboard box, and Himeko, well… we could resume all her virtues, abilities and skills to shopping, makeup, gossip, selfies, social media, being pretty and an absolute headache. Grandmother got big plans for her after she graduates though, so I’ll take her out of the picture as well.”

“Big plans?” You said arching your eyebrow.

“Let’s say that, right now, we have a great, juicy, and very convenient deal that is in negociation right now and she is a vital piece to close it successfully. Don’t worry, your curiosity will be satiated soon enough.”

“What worries me is that I think I got a grasp of what you’re talking about.”

“Aw. Come on, businesses are businesses (Y/N), C’est la vie.” She said as she shrugged uninterested.

“Yeah, because is not you.” You grumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, why don’t you continue.”

“You are right, where we were? Oh, right.”

‘Was she really just dismissing the topic like that?!’

“Tell me (Y/N), do you think that I would have brought you here and propose this plan to you if I didn’t have an ace up my sleeve? Please. There are some important and positive points that can grant us success if we exploit them properly, but we must play our cards wisely, unfortunately, that’ll have to wait until we are completely alone.” Confused your arched your eyebrow, until your ears were met with the sound of the wheels of a certain golden cart rapidly approaching.

“Hello again ladies, let me take this off,” Hiro said while he took the almost empty canape plate along the rest of the dishes. “Is there anything else you would like? Would you like another beverage (L/N)-sama?” Hiro said looking at your semi voided glass.

“Y-Yes please”

“Alright!” With the swift and skill of years of experience, Hiro served your plates, removed the shiny silver food covers, refilled both water cups and Kaguya’s wine cup as well in less than a minute. “Please enjoy, if there’s anything else you would like I’ll be happy to assist you! I’ll be back in a minute with your drink miss.”

You spent the next couple of minutes in total silence waiting for your drink in order to continue your conversation privately and interruption-free. Just as said, Hiro returned instants later with the promised drink and finally left you two to converse calmly.

“Well, now that the coast is clear, let me fill you up with what you have to know and do in order to obtain a favorable outcome for both of us.” Kaguya began as she sliced a bite of quail breast.

“So, this is my plan…”

Now with your dinner night already finished, you were now heading to your house. This ride was as quiet as the one to the restaurant, but without the suffocating weight of uncertainty. Your head was filled now with the echoes of your conversation with Kaguya, debating, analyzing, considering, comprehending every single word of it.

“You seem troubled, you are doubtful, aren’t you?” Said Kaguya interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m more scared than anything if this doesn’t work-”

“It will, you already know what to do, just focus on that. I’ll keep in contact with you anyway, in case of emergencies or any last-minute matter.” She then proceeded to rummage in her purse and took out a brand-new phone, it was one of those not so high-quality flip phones that you can get for a really low price, probably a disposable one.

“I already put my phone number in it, so we can communicate without issue. This phone is a really basic one, so it has no internet access but you have unlimited calls and texts. Just make sure to keep it hidden from your mother or that blabbermouth maid of yours.”

“Yes, I’ll find a place.”

“Perfect, remember, the announce dinner will be this Saturday, surely your mom would tell you, everybody will be there, they must at least.”

Another twenty minutes passed before you were at the main door of your lavish home. Silently, you excited the car after Soichiro opened the door for you and you headed to the front door.

“We’ll keep in contact, until then, (Y/N).” Kaguya said softly, once she finished Soichiro shut the door, bowed his head, and wished you a good evening. He straightened up his posture and proceeded to hop in the car again. Quietly you observed the car get farther and farther until it disappeared. You stayed there in silence, while the nightly wind swayed your hair delicately. The sound of the door opening distracted you, then, you turned around to be met with the gentle smile of Nobu-san.

“Okaerinasai, (Y/N)-sama, how was your dinner with Kaguya-sama?”

“Pretty…unexpected.” You looked everywhere, making sure that nobody else was listening to your conversation. “I’ll fill you out on the details later” You whispered and Nobu-san nodded knowingly. “I see, your bath is ready (Y/N)-sama. Please take your time and relax, it’s been a long night after all,” He got slightly closer to you and cupped his hand around his mouth, and whispered. “I’m pretty sure you’ll make good use of this time to ponder any thought that is troubling your mind.” He distanced from you, crossed his arms behind his back, and gave you a gentle closed-eye smile. “Would you like a cup of tea after your bath?”

You smiled at him fondly.

“(F/T/F), please.”

You’ve been lying if you said that you could actually sleep the night before. Your head could not stop to reproduce in a loop your conversation with Kaguya the night before, like a broken record you couldn’t escape from. Before you noticed, the outrageous melody of your alarm resounded in the spaciousness of your room. You groaned in protest, unwillingly getting up to start your day.

Dressed and ready, you took your bag and went downstairs to have breakfast. Before you could finish hopping down the stairs you caught a glimpse of your mother sitting at the head chair, like always with your father by her side, she was holding her morning coffee while she read some emails on her laptop.

As always she looked stunning in her soft pink and golden outfit, she crossed her legs, put down her cup and started typing in her laptop.

You straighten your posture the best you could and approached the table with delicate steps. “Good morning mother, good morning dad”

“Good morning dear, how did you sleep?” Said your mother without taking her eyes off the screen in a somewhat flat tone as her fingers tapped nimbly over the keyboard. “Pretty well, and yourself?” You said while you took a seat at the innecesarily expansive dinning table.

“Not so well sadly, there’s been some… issues I had to take care of.” She hissed a bit irritated as she rubbed her temples.

“I-I see, hopefully, you’ll have a better day today, mother.”

“I doubt it, unluckily, but thank you for your words, darling. Now hurry up or you’ll be late.”

“Yes, mother.”

“You should have some fresh fruit honey; the mangos are delicious!” Said the cheerful voice of your father. You smiled fondly at him while he reciprocated with a smile of his own. “I’ll do then, thank you for your suggestion dad.” You answered while one of the maids served you a portion of fresh mixed fruit in a bowl and Nobu-san poured tea in your cup.

“(Y/N)” Spoke your mom.

“Yes, mother?”

“Your grandmother had organized a family dinner this Saturday that we must assist, of course, I expect nothing less of you than be on your best behavior, also is imperative that you choose your outfit today so I can determine if it’s appropriate for the occasion. If you need to go shopping just tell Sasaki, I activated your debit card again just this time.” She said authoritatively.

“Yes mother, I’ll do it today after class.” You said as you topped your fruit with some honey, yougurt and granola.

“Splendid, now if you excuse me, I have to go now, Haru, hurry up or we’ll be late”

“Yes, cara mia” Your father beamed. Your mother then rose from her chair took her handbag and draped her coat over her shoulders. Your father then finished his coffee as soon as he could and went behind her. “Have a good day princess!” Exclaimed you dad. “Thank you, you too!” You answered while you saw them get escorted by an army of bodyguards.

Soon enough the door was closed and you were left alone. “(Y/N)-sama I advise you to hurry as well, school starts in thirty minutes” Said the familiar voice of Nobu-san. “What!? Oh, I’m going to be late! Ok, I got this! I’ll brush my teeth and I’ll be ready-please ask Sasaki-san to start the car! I will be there in a minute!” You stuttered while climbing up stairs.

“Sure thing, Ojou-sama,” He said with an amused smile.

“Thank you again for joining me for shopping Momo”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, I’ll also take the chance to buy some new accessories as well,” Beamed your ravenette friend. It was the end of the school day and you had asked Momo to help you choose new accessories to complement a dress you already had.

“But to be honest I never imagine that your mom would lose her grip on you so soon even if it’s temporary, what surprised me more was what Kaguya-san told you yesterday,” She whispered trying to no let your conversation be known by Sasaki-san although the automated partition window was up as a precautionary measure. “Are you sure you can trust her?” She said concerned.

“I still don’t know, suddenly everything became so complicated, I mean her plan is good and has a high probability to work, and right now I don’t have a better option, I don’t even have any options, to begin with!” You groaned, confused.

“What’s still bugging me is why is she helping you in the first place? I can’t help but find it suspicious no matter how much I think about it. Did you ask her something about it?”

“I did, but she went into this mysterious and enigmatic mode and just said something like ‘You’ll know soon enough’ It would be easier to pinch a glass than get something out of her.” You said with a tone of frustration.

“I guess that the only thing we can do now is to wait and see,” Sighed Momo while she shrugged her shoulders. “By the way, what are we going to do first?” She said more animatedly.

“Let’s start with the shoes and then maybe a new jewelry set, a new clutch as well would be good. What you think?”

“I think is a splendid idea!” Momo exclaimed.

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cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 21

Two Weeks

Summary: Everyone prepares for the approaching Social Season

Word Count: ~4.2k

A/N: i felt especially evil writing Drake’s part, so i hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13

I’m sorry, the tags are being weird and I don’t know if they’re working or not… but I hope I got everyone down! If I missed someone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Maxwell -

The baby blossoms were improving in their lessons perfectly, and no one was prouder than Liam. Him and Maxwell would sit with the children through lessons, making sure they understood the basics. True, they couldn’t teach the children everything in two weeks, but they needed to know how to act like royalty for the Social Season.

Maxwell had asked Liam how his dinner with Riley went. The man was ecstatic to say that she was giving him a chance. Maxwell was happy for his friend, but hoped that neither of them would do anything to mess it up.

Maxwell tired to come up with ways that Riley and Liam could spend time with each other, but whenever the baby blossoms came into their view, they began to worry about the court voicing their opinions about the children.

Riley and Rowan tried to help the children in terms of memorizing etiquette. By the end of the week, both children knew enough to pass by as royalty. Liam voiced his relief that the children wouldn’t be in the spotlight too much, considering the fact that they weren’t expected to participate in certain events.

Maxwell had tried to spend more time with Rowan, but the woman was also stressed about what she was going to do in front of the nobility. Even though she followed along in the baby blossoms’ lessons, she pointed out that expectations would be different for a grown woman compared to two small children.

And even after dinner, when he tried to sneak a moment alone with her, Bertrand would always find him lurking in a corner and would reprimand Maxwell.

After Maxwell and Bartie walked the baby blossoms through what was expected of them behavior-wise, and after Hana taught them some traditional dances, Olivia declared that it was time to teach them self defense.

“Is that... necessary?” Hana asks.

“With the previous attack on the palace,” Olivia begins. “It would be better for them to know something rather than nothing.”

“Is the situation truly so serious?” Hana turns to Liam.

His eyebrows furrow. “Truth be told, I don’t know. The investigations are still ongoing, but so far they’ve found nothing.”

“Don’t you think people may avoid participating in the season out of fear?” Hana continues to ask.

“Perhaps, but I’ve increased security to ensure the safety of the guests.”

“And thus another reason why the King’s Guard cannot teach them,” Olivia starts up again, referring to the children. “They must protect the palace grounds and continue their investigation. Whoever those thieves are, they better not get away.”

Liam’s phone rings, and he leaves the room. Hana says she’ll go check on Riley, and so Maxwell, Rowan, and Olivia are left with the children.

“So.” Olivia turns to them. “Answer me this. An intruder has broken into your home in the middle of the night. You open your door to see that they are coming towards you with a knife. What do you do?”

“Hide!” Ella claims.

“False.” Olivia states.

“Um... run away?” Gabriel tries.

“Wrong again. Cowardice is never the answer,” Olivia tells them.

“So... are we supposed to... fight back?” Gabriel asks.

“But we’re just kids,” Ella argues.

Rowan leans towards Maxwell and whispers, “She’s got a point. Maybe they shouldn’t be learning about this.”

“You can use that to your advantage,” Olivia states. “There’s a chance the intruder wouldn’t hurt a child, so you will take their moment of hesitation to attack.”

“Attack?” Gabe’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks, and Maxwell can’t help but notice how similar the action is to what Liam does. “So we can... hit them with a baseball bat?”

“Or kick something at them? Ou! Can we just kick them?” Ella adds.

“Precisely!” Olivia smiles at the children. “Though it would be better to get the job done with a sharp object.”

“Like a knife?” Gabriel questions.

“Yes, and today I will be teaching you both how to effectively use a knife to defend yourselves.”

“Mama said I’m not allowed to use knives anymore,” Eleanor tells the group.

“And why is that?” Olivia puts her hands on her hips.

“Because of what happened last Thanksgiving.”

“And what transpired on the last giving of thanks?”

“I chased Gabe with the knife we were supposed to use to cut the turkey.”

A smile plasters over Olivia’s face. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

A flash of childish fear crosses Gabriel’s face, and Rowan pats him on the shoulder.

“Now,” Olivia begins. From different spots in her dress, she removes a series of extremely sharp knives. “Pick one to use.”

“Uh, no,” Rowan interjects. “We won’t be doing that. These are literal children, Lady Olivia.”

Olivia rolls her eyes. “Fine. I brought wooden knives, too, but they’re in my room.” She retreats to go get them.

Maxwell leans into the group, making them all huddle together. “You know what we should do, baby blossoms?” The children shake their heads. “Follow me.”

Maxwell leads them behind the staircase towards the wall of weapons.

“Wow,” Rowan exclaims. “Exactly why does your family have this?” She holds in a laugh.

“Are these the knives Duchess Olivia wants us to use?” Gabriel asks.

“No,” Maxwell answers him. “But wouldn’t it be fun to use them?”

The children look towards Rowan, and she laughs. “We can hold them, but no swinging them around, okay?”

“Okay!” Ella exclaims, reaching for the double sided sword. It’s a little heavy for her, but she manages to hold it up.

Rowan grabs the dagger, and Gabriel settles for the sword.

Maxwell lifts the flail from the wall, and before he can say anything else, he turns to see Eleanor leading everyone back to the ballroom.

Once they’re inside, they wait for Olivia, but something catches Maxwell’s eye.

“You okay?” Rowan asks.

“Look!” Maxwell walks towards a table, where a phone pokes out from under a handkerchief. “It’s Drake’s phone.”

“Should we give it back to him?” Gabriel asks.

Maxwell sighs, and regards the phone in his hands. “Probably.” He looks towards Rowan and the baby blossoms, a mischievous look in his eyes. “But first...”

Before he can finish the sentence, Rowan starts giggling. Through the laugh she manages, “If you say, ‘Let me take a selfie,’ I’m taking the weapons away.”

Maxwell pouts at her. “Fine, I won’t say it, but can we take at least one?”

He can tell that the situation is amusing to her, but Rowan glances at the children and agrees.

They all pose, and Maxwell takes the picture. Rowan takes the phone and puts it back where they found it from, while Maxwell takes everyone’s weapons and goes to put it back on the wall.

When he comes back, the baby blossoms each have a wooden sword in their hands. Maxwell notices that they look very similar to the wooden sword Olivia had when she was a child.

“—Since these are now yours’, you can name them whatever you want.” Maxwell hears her tell them.

“So...” Eleanor closely regards her sword. “If I name it ‘Gabe’... does that mean I can do this?” She turns to hit her brother’s shoulder with the sword repeatedly, and chants, “Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!”

Gabriel protests, and tries to back away from her, but Eleanor follows him, giggling.

“Stop! Wait! Give me a second!” The boy protests.

“Get it together, Gabriel!” Olivia calls to him from the sidelines. “You’re losing!”

“Yay!” Eleanor screams.

“Watch your footing!” Olivia directs. “Widen your stance!”

Soon, both of the baby blossoms are hitting each other’s wooden swords. They use all of their energy, until Gabriel finally backs away in a coughing fit.

Liam rushes in, having finished his phone call. He goes to Gabriel’s side and tells him to sit down.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” the boy states.

“Alright.” Liam sighs. “I wanted to make sure.”

“Are you here to get a wooden sword, too?” Eleanor asks him.

Liam chuckles, looking down at her and ruffling the girl’s hair. “No.” His smile falters as he continues, “I came to say goodbye. I have to return to the palace for a few days, but will be back soon.”

“Aww,” Eleanor whines. She hugs Liam’s waist, and he kneels down to wrap her in his arms. He does the same to Gabriel, who, to Maxwell’s shock and relief, hugs his father back.

Liam nods at Olivia, Maxwell, and Rowan on his way out.

After he’s out of sight, Olivia turns back to the children. “Alright, where were we?”

- Drake -

Though he was turned away from her, Drake heard Jessica get out of bed. Her phone had vibrated from under her pillow, and she grabbed it and left the room.

Jessica had asked Drake to return to his cabin for at least one evening, since she wanted to spend time with him away from the rest of his friends. He assumed that Jessica didn’t like his friends’ company, and that upset him. But there was barely a week left until the Social Season; he didn’t want her to be anxious about having to be in the presence of the nobility, so he was willing to spend time alone with Jessica to make her feel more at ease.

He gets out of bed and combs through a small pile of his and Jessica’s clothes that they had thrown to the side. Drake puts her dress on the edge of the bed and grabs his pants. His heartbeat quickens for a moment as he feels the pockets for the ring box. Looking over his shoulder towards the door, he saw Jessica texting away with a blanket draped over her. Drake opens the ring box, and eyes his grandmother’s ring, then turns again to Jessica.

Not the time, he thinks to himself, putting it back into his pants pocket.

After he finishes putting on the rest of his clothes, he goes into the kitchen to get himself something to eat. He’s about to ask Jessica who she’s texting, but before he can get near her, she bolts up and says she’s going to go use the bathroom.

He looks through the fridge and some cabinets. Finding nothing, he decides it wouldn’t be so bad if they went out to eat.

Drake hears the door to the bathroom open, and Jessica reappears wearing one of his shirts and a small pair of shorts with her hair tied up. He wonders where she got them from, but remembers that some of her clothes were still in his house.

She gives him a peck on the cheek and goes to open the fridge.

“What do you think about going out to eat?” he asks her. “Haven’t done the groceries in a while.”

“Go out?” she starts. Jessica pouts, and Drake feels sorry for upsetting her. “But I look a mess!”

He smiles and shakes his head. She would never understand her own beauty. No matter what she wore or what she did, she looked perfectly put together. He took a moment to look at her in awe, allowing her image to bless his eyes: her skin was soft and clear, even though she had been sweaty moments before. Her hair looked effortlessly elegant. She could throw on some jeans and would be better put together than half of the women Drake had dated.

“What if we go eat with Papa?” Jessica suggests, referring to her father. “He’s been wanting to see you for a while.”

“Sure,” Drake says. Jessica leaves the room to go get ready. He had met Jessica’s father a few times, and the man reminded Drake of his own father. As snarky as Jackson Walker, and just as supportive of his children. Out of respect he always referred to Jessica’s father as Mr. Ariti. Drake enjoyed the man’s company, and was always pleased to hear from Jessica that her father enjoyed spending time with him as well.

Drake walks towards the bathroom, wanting to freshen himself up. He hears the shower running and finds the door locked. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he scrolls through his phone while waiting for her. He finds an image of Maxwell posing with Rowan, Gabriel, and Eleanor, each of them holding a medieval weapon. Drake wonders how they got into his phone.

He continues to scroll and eventually finds a picture he took of Jessica when they went camping together a few years ago. The light from the fire had make her dark skin look like glass, and he had wanted to capture the moment of her raw beauty. She was looking away from the camera, towards the sky. Drake usually felt comfortable in her presence, ever since the day he first met her. There was nothing complicated about this woman; her emotions were always in check and there was rarely anything that troubled her. Even when she was dealing with family issues and her father’s declining health, Drake had never seen her cry. He believed there was a sense of power in that: she knew which topics were deserving of her tears and which weren’t, and even the things that irritated her she solved effortlessly.

But lately the two of them seemed more out of sync than not. Even tonight Drake felt that he wasn’t near her, even though she was always close enough to touch. He thinks that they may just be having one of those days, and tries to forget about it.

She comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her phone tightly clasped in her hand. Jessica doesn’t look at Drake, and begins going through drawers to find something to wear.

He takes a quick shower, and wears his usual denim outfit before Jessica is ready. He waits for her for a few more minutes, until finally she comes out of the room and they leave.

They take her Jeep. She brought them to a large apartment building in the capital. They park, and the doorman greets them by name, then quickly rings a phone call up to Mr. Ariti to tell him that his daughter was here to visit him.

The elevator door opens at the twelfth floor, and Jessica leads him down a small hallway. After they knock, Mr. Ariti’s nurse opens the door and greets Jessica with a kiss on the cheek.

The women move aside for Drake, and he smells something cooking from the kitchen. Mr. Ariti’s dog, a rottweiler named Elsa, runs at Drake to greet him.

Mr. Ariti’s apartment was small and luxuriously decorated. He had told Drake that it was Jessica and her mother who had the stylish inclinations, but looking around the room at the decorative sculptures and oil paintings, he couldn’t tell what type of person had decorated the room. Drake felt slightly out of place here, but he enjoyed Mr. Ariti’s company.

Mr. Ariti sits on the couch in the living room, and when he sees Drake, he uses all his strength to stand and greet him. Drake rushes forward, helping Mr. Ariti balance himself. The old man gives him a pat on the back, and they sit down.

Jessica sits next to Drake, and she entertains them by telling both men about a trip she had come back from a few weeks ago. “Oh, I’ve yet to tell you about this trip, darling,” she tells Drake. It was another trip to a Greek island. She took one about every two months, and it was a different island every time.

Before she can continue, Mr. Ariti’s nurse comes up to tell him that the doorman is on the intercom in the kitchen. Mr. Ariti has a difficult time standing up, so Drake offers him his arm and follows the nurse into the kitchen.

Once they stand next to the intercom, Drake hears the doorman say, “Mr. Ariti? Yes... he’s here again.”

“He? Who’s he?” the old man asks.

The nurse speaks up and tells him, “You know who he’s talking about, Mr. Ariti, the...” She eyes Drake. “The businessman.”

“Sir,” the doorman speaks from the intercom again. “He says he wishes to come up.”

“No,” Mr. Ariti says. “I don’t care, don’t let him up. Keep him downstairs.”

“Yes, sir,” the doorman says from the intercom.

Mr. Ariti turns back to Drake, and he begins leading the old man to the dining table where the nurse had started putting dinner.

“Everything alright?” Drake asks him.

“Yes, yes.” The old man waves at him dismissively. “Just some fool who won’t leave us alone.”

Suddenly Jessica opens the door, claiming that she was going to take Elsa for a walk around the block.

A frost of displeasure crosses Mr. Ariti’s face. They hear the door click shut as she leads the dog out of the apartment, and Mr. Ariti asks Drake to sit down.

They begin to eat, and Drake respectfully listens to Mr. Ariti talk about his day, the situation that arose with one of his neighbors, and something his doctor told him. When they’re done with their meal and laughing with one another, Jessica finally reappears. She takes a seat next to Drake and serves herself some cold pasta.

The men continue to talk while Jessica eats. She laughs along to her father’s jokes, and then when she finishes, turns to Drake.

“Darling, I meant to tell you,” she begins. “I won’t be able to make it to the Masquerade Ball.”

“You changed your mind about the Social Season?” Drake asks, slightly relieved.

“No, silly.” She giggles. “Something’s come up. If I were to attend, I would have to leave early, so it’s best not to attend at all. Oh, don’t look at me like that, darling.” She laces Drake’s fingers through her own.��“Didn’t you tell me that Countess Hana said her husband will be making a late appearance as well? Well mine won’t be quite as late.” She leans forward to kiss Drake’s cheek. “I’m participating in the season because I want to support you, darling. I know how you dislike the nobility’s company, so I know how much a friendly face will mean to you.”

Drake leans towards her to kiss her, and Jessica turns back to her meal.

After she finishes eating, Mr. Ariti says that the two of them better get home before it becomes to late, and he makes Drake promise to visit again soon.

While Jessica and Drake ride the elevator down to the lobby, Jessica speaks up: “Papa looked upset today, don’t you think?”

Drake agrees, and suggests that the man was probably tired.

“You know what I think we should do, darling?”

He turns to look at her, wondering what she was thinking of.

Finally, Jessica turns to look at him. “Marry.”

Drake’s heart stops for a moment. Did she just propose? Wasn’t I thinking about doing that just hours before? What had stopped me from doing it then? And why’s she asking this now?

“Sh- should we?” he asks, utterly confused as to what was happening.

“Yes, please! I think it would make Papa so happy.”

She grabs his hand and leads him out of the elevator and towards her car. Drake feels as if he’s never felt so baffled in his life. Jessica turns on the radio, and Drake can’t hear himself think through the music. He can still feel his grandmother’s ring in his pocket. Should I give it to her now? He hears Jessica humming along to the music, and Drake doesn’t know what to do.

She drops him off in front of his cabin, and says she'll go home to her own apartment since she has some things to settle in the morning. She leans over to kiss him goodbye.

In a haze, Drake walks into his house and towards his bed and falls onto it, wondering what had just happened, and what that meant since his feelings for Jessica were still uncertain.

- Savannah -

The Social Season was fast approaching, and the day of Liam’s press conference — the one where he would introduce Gabriel to the people — had arrived before anyone realized it.

Liam and Gabriel had left for the capital early in the morning. Gabriel’s things were packed, and Liam assured Riley that he would help the boy get settled. When Riley had said that Eleanor could not go with, both children were upset, and Eleanor was still anxious hours later.

Everyone’s things were packed as well. Riley’s doctor would return tonight to take off her cast, so they would leave early in the morning for the Masquerade Ball, but they were all currently sitting in front of the TV to watch the press conference. They each sat on a couch, huddled around the TV. Drake was the only one that stood at the edge of the room. Savannah motions for him to come sit next to her, but Drake shakes his head. She wonders what happened to her brother, and guesses it may have something to do with the visit he gave Jessica last week.

Throughout the past two weeks, there were more cases of stolen art around Europe, specifically in France and Austria. Museums all throughout the continent shut down in fear of more incidents, and some nobles expressed their worries to King Liam. More and more news articles surfaced, asking if the King was going to let priceless works of Cordonian artists be stolen, and not fight for them back?

And so the topic of the press conference changed. Liam told Riley and the rest of them that he would be introducing Gabriel to the people, but he would also try to answer their questions and concerns about the stolen art.

They watch the screen as Liam and Gabriel are led by guards up to a small platform in front of the palace. The crowd cheers for their monarch, and possibly for the heir as well. Both wear formal outfits, and Savannah notices that Gabriel’s shoulders are oddly tense.

As King Liam stops walking and turns to face the crowd, he smiles down at his son. Gabriel turns, and his face is slightly pale. He gives the crowd a tight smile and a nod. They continue to cheer.

Liam walks up to the microphone and speaks: “People of Cordonia, it is my humble honor to introduce you to my son, the heir, Gabriel Liam Rys.” His voice drowns out as the crowd cheers again. The crowd continues to cheer for a few moments, but their cries of joy become a roar of people talking over one another. Cameras zoom in towards people’s faces, and they can hear questions being shouted.

“How do we know important historical artifacts are safe?”

“Cordonia’s history goes back hundred of thousands of years! All that could be lost because you don’t know where to put your military!”

“Get off your high horse! Our art has to do with our national pride!”

“You cared for the orchard, so care about this, too!”

“I thought you said you were going to honor our history?”

“What kind of King lets his country’s history get lost like that?”

“Get the Queen Mother’s goblets back!”

“Cordonia’s history could be wiped away by some clever thieves, what the Hell are you going to do about it?!”

Guards manage to quiet the crowd, and Liam allows Ana de Luca to speak.

“Your Majesty,” she begins. “On behalf of Cordonias everywhere, I just want to say that we are elated at the news of the heir.” Gabriel gives a wide smile. “But we need to know, what measures are being taken to make sure that Cordonia’s precious artifacts stay safe? Surely you understand the historical significance of these pieces, and the honor that comes with them?”

“Thank you, Miss de Luca,” Liam answers. “I understand the people’s concern. Rest assured that I have the best people our country has to offer on this case. We will find the perpetrators soon, and bring them to justice. I’ve increased security in the palace, as well as in Cordonian museums. They would not dare strike again.”

The crowd begins screaming again, and Bastien walks up to Liam and whispers in his ear. Liam walks away with Gabriel trailing slightly behind.

Maxwell turns the TV off. “Wow.”

“Didn’t know it was that serious,” Rowan states.

“Cordonians are more worried than I expected them to be.” Hana looks around the group.

“The Social Season should take their minds off of this,” Bertrand states, standing up.

After a few seconds, Olivia states: “I trust Liam to handle it. They’re simply a few petty art thieves.”

“They probably fight with paint brushes.” Maxwell whispers over to Eleanor and Rowan, both of who begin to giggle.

“This is simply a small hiccup,” Bertrand continues. “I’m sure they’ll find something. In the meantime, it would be best that we all finished getting ready. Lady Riley, your doctor should arrive within the hour. Eleanor, if you would come with me, I would like you and Bartie to review your table manners.”

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr #choices stories you play #trr king liam x mc #king liam x riley #liam x mc #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr mc x liam

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The marriage pact - London bits

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 14 | Part 15 London bits | Part 16 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: It was so much fun to do some actual research on Jersey’s history - even though it is only mentioned very briefly in this chapter.

Word count: 1.265

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

One can find and do many things on our Jersey island, its rich soil housing some 107.000 inhabitants. But as it appears, the world has more to offer than multi-horned sheep, lovely beaches and close knitted communities. Today I’m once more writing from the metropolitan city of London, my journey taking me to meet some ex-inhabitants of our beloved Jersey.

In this “Old Faces goes London”, I’ll be visiting a baker who decided to bring his infamous Jersey-rolls to the great City of London, a linguist who strives to keep Jèrriais (our territories unique Norman dialect) alive and I’ll be having a cup of tea with an exporter of Jersey’s very own apple cider. Yum!

And, as time is ticking I will now bid you all adieu. Or, to keep it in the Jèrriais realms;

À bétôt!

Ali

‘Morning.’ Henry pressed a kiss on my cheek while he brushed past me, his hands busy with making toast while I prepped some lunch boxes. It was 6 AM on a Tuesday and, though I was far from awake, I did admit that I felt quite happy being here, in Henry’s Mews kitchen.

In the far corner I could hear Kal hogging down some food after an even more ungodly early doggy walk - from which I thankfully had been spared - and before long the kitchen was filled with lovely scents and we were all enjoying our breakfast.

‘Sleep well?’ I said, keeping my voice down as the walls were rather thin. Henry nodded, cup of coffee hovering beneath his nose, cheeks dimpling with a tender smile. ‘Sure did. Though looks like you are STILL sleeping.’ He laughed. ‘Mmm... I’m very much enjoying this dream, thank you very much. So please, allow me.’

‘Then so I will. So what are you up to today?’ He took a hesitant sip of the far too hot drink, scrunching his nose as he nearly burned his tongue, then decided to put it down, his hands instead moving to cut into the toast, his egg all gooey perfection as it oozed out onto the plate. I could see Kal push his head on Henry’s lap, hoping that his puppy eyes were enough of a persuader to earn himself some bacon. But apparently it was just another part of their morning routine, Henry’s hand near automatically running through the Akita’s fur before returning to his breakfast, no bacon bits shared in the process.

Sweet bears.

‘Going to have an interview with that baker in a little over an hour, then visiting that publisher followed by some work calls. You?’

‘No baker interviews unfortunately,’ He smiled. ‘Just meetings. Meetings, meetings, meetings.’ Henry shrugged, obviously not looking forward to it. ‘Oh..What do you want to do for dinner by the way?’ He inquired.

‘Eh…eat food?’ I grinned, earning an exasperated look from him. ‘Hahah..sorry..but eh..let’s just cook something at home. Shall I cook or..?’

‘Cooking as home is good, sure. And, Ali, honestly..I’m not THAT traditional. Maybe let’s just say that the first person who gets home, cooks? That seems to be more fair.’ He said simply, hogging down onto another huge bite.

‘Very well then, my fair feminist knight.’ I winked, also cutting into my toast, my nose sniffing happily as the savoury scents drifted into my nostrils. Gosh, how nice it was to be with a man that could cook!

—

Still somewhat catching my breath from hurrying from meeting to meeting, I sat before one man called Charles Dunham, his golden nameplate shining proudly on his paper-filled mahogany desk. From the moment I had gotten into his office, it became clear that the old, fat cheeked man was most eager to get me on board; a good cup of coffee and some cookies were moved onto the last remaining bit of his space on his overcrowded desk and before I could even take my first sip of the welcome drink, the offer was already on the table.

‘Simply said; we adore your stories. And from a business point of view we see great potential. You have a solid fan base, and we recently released a similar storybook for adults that sold like hot buns on the Sunday market,’ He grinned happily, throwing three cubes of sugar in his coffee and mixing it with a freakishly small spoon. ‘So we are more than glad to develop this project with you.’

I blinked over the rim of the cup of coffee, hot steam raising up from the porcelain. HOLY DAMN! I let out a soft giggle and smiled. ‘My…alright then. I had expected to have to give you my sales pitch and perhaps a kidney or two. I mean, I even made a whole presentation, but this is far better. Thank you so much for your trust and enthusiasm Mr. Dunham, it truly means the world!’

Mr. Dunham chuckled. ‘And the world better be ready. How about we start editing a first version in the next few months, fine-tune a few things? Oh, and I did have one small question; are these based on actual people?’

‘Some are inspired by a mix of people I know, though all characters are definitely fictional in nature.’

‘Well, perhaps you COULD add a slight reference to Superman, since he’s from the Islands as well. Our readers would surely love that.’

I felt my stomach somersault again. Oh Mr. Dunham..if only you knew.

‘Haha..well. We might have to look into copyrights there, but it sure is true that we, I, adore our homeland hero.’ I winked.

—

Oh the homeland hero. I did adore him, indeed. In fact I craved him really.

The moment I had gotten back to Jersey I felt like I had left a piece of myself back with Henry. Suddenly the air was bleak and my parents house was not my home anymore, the large but comfortable house feeling like but a shell of what it had been just days earlier. And it got even weirder when I was laying in bed.

Here I was, alone, my hand outstretched to the spot where he would lay if we would sleep together. I even tried to sniff the pillow he had slept on, to see if any of his scent perhaps lingered there.

It didn’t.

It had been a strangely eventful day today. First the very early flight, a sleepy Henry - quite unique to find in the mornings - driving me to the airport. And then the near desperate hugs and kisses we shared, followed by a restless flight. And then I had to quickly drop off my stuff before heading to another doctors appointment. This time for one of a more invasive nature; a number of physical tests had to be performed so I could enlist for a sperm donor. My plan B. Just in case everything failed with Henry.

But, in all honesty, it felt more and more like a doom scenario I was increasingly less comfortable with. Did I want to become a single parent, if all of this failed? Was that really my dream? Or was a child just a result of something greater I truly wanted, something I had pushed away and hidden from my still beating heart. Did I actually want something quite different?

Did I want..eh..love, actually?

As I lay there looking at the ceiling, small glow-in-the-dark stars speckling the otherwise dark surface, I came to the bitter tasting realisation that I had not really taken into account that there was suddenly this extra person who had come into the equation. This person I had wild make-out sessions with on my parents couch, as well finding in him the person who offers a listening ear and who would consolidate me and be there during a doctors appointment.

He cared and was obviously not really wanting to leave. And I, to be even more honest with myself, well, I didn’t want him to leave either. I needed to keep him close and listen to him if I wanted this to last.

Rolling on my side I picked up my phone. 11.30 PM. He’d probably be sleeping now. I bit my lip and decided to text him, even if he’d only read it in the morning.

“I just tried to sniff the pillow but your scent is gone. I miss you😢”

Quite immediately a message returned. A selfie, taken with a flash in the starkness of a dark bedroom. Henry’s face sulkily grabbing onto a pillow. “That makes two. I miss you three!”

I giggled, silly bear, then imitated his picture, taking one myself, his pillow squeezed tightly in my arm, head resting on top. “Sweet dreams bear. I’ll keep your pillow safe.”

And then a little voice chat message came in, his silky deep voice filling my heart with joy; ‘Sweet dreams Ali.’

Oh sweet were my dreams indeed.

If only..if only he were here to share them with me.

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69

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#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x OC #henry cavill x author #fluff #romcom #london #busy life #jerriais #london bites #the marriage pact

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graphicabyss · 4 years

Text

?人 NEWS

I wrote an enormous post, or rather an essay, concerning NEWS, Tegoshi, and everything that went through my mind in the past month. Honestly, it’s mostly my way of coping, getting it out of my system and sorting out my thoughts and feelings. But I decided to also post it here for those who might want to read.

It was a long time coming. The rumours were lurking around for years and a month ago they bloomed. And yet, the full realization is yet to dawn on me. When something devastating happens, our mind tends to shake off the pain by either exonerating the beloved person who hurt us, or blaming them and distancing away from them. It's really hard to stay objective. But I'll try.

Coming into this fandom, I prepared myself for disappointment. Once I was a TVXQ fan. You know, the 5-nin TVXQ that was going to be "together forever" and all that. So I wowed never to get that invested in a pop band. When NEWS came along, I tried not to get too attached. I knew it would hurt me, sooner of later. And for awhile, it worked. But, as years went by, I knew I lost the battle. We humans need to cling to something. Thus, nearly 7 years have passed.

To me, Tegoshi has always been a key component. He was the one that led me to NEWS. Or rather, how pretty he looked in a dress. Tegoshi always kept me interested. Sometimes he excited, sometimes he annoyed, but he was never ever boring. He was made of contradictions, both in words and in actions. Nothing ever adds up with him. He made me want to understand him but I could never quite grasp it. Thinking about it now, perhaps it was because he doesn't really understand himself either.

In these years, I had several crisis points where I considered leaving the fandom, all caused by something shitty Tegoshi said or did. But every time I bounced back. Of course, I didn't do it for him. I did it for myself. However, his selfishness has always been offset by his kindness. The last time was him crying at the end of Neverland tour and how sorry he looked. Till the end, I wanted to believe that his common sense and loyalty won't let him do something reckless and stupid. Yet, here we are. The interview he gave to Bunshun led me to believe that he would do the right thing. He said he would show his gratitude to JE and would definitely make his fans happy but now it's the furthest thing from the truth. The fandom is disappointed, confused, angry.

Some people say to get over it, that Tegoshi was meant to leave or some shit. But I think those people fundamentally misunderstand the heart of the problem. It's not that he left that infuriated the fandom. It's how and when he left. Most fans would support his decision to leave if the transition was done properly. He owed us that much. A proper apology. A proper gratitude. A proper farewell. The announcement had me in disbelief. I expected him to at least finish the contract, do the Story Tour, no matter how long it takes, and show the members, staff and the fans the respect they deserve. To cut it short feels like a violation. At the very least, we need a closure. The last goodbye. The last concert. The last something. He just left JE after 17 years like it was nothing.

More than anything, what he did seems so stupid. He had it so fucking good. He was always in the spotlight, both on stage and in TV shows. The other members did most of the offscreen work allowing him to shine. He was supported by endlessly patient members and staff. He had the freedom to choose and all the work he wanted for each of his passions - ItteQ, Soccer Earth, OpenRec. And he had fans that always supported him, no matter how many scandals he had.

What was so important that he had to give up on all the amazing benefits he had? To betray all this trust? And on top of it, at a time like this? When all world is going through so much shit? When the fans need moral support more than ever? What were the "dreams" that he talked about?

The ability to rant on Twitter? Making duckface selfies? Fucking around? Assembling a shitty rock band? Performing with strippers? Some kind of unique business opportunity? He talked for years about wanting to perform overseas or hosting fan events but right now these things are offlimit anyway. Why couldn't he at the very least explain his decision properly? Just that alone will definitely hurt his further career in the long run. The press-conference lasted 2 hours but it answered none of the questions that really mattered and there was no remorse. Though at this point, I can't trust anything he says anyway. He created his Twitter account the the evening it all went down and didn't bother explaining himself. He just jumped off the ship and let other people deal with the damage.

Even now, it all seems like some kind of bad dream. Then again, all of the 2020 does.

When I first saw "手越退社" trending on Twitter back in May I felt like I was spinning into a downward spiral, like all air was sucked out of me. And it wasn't the "oh, no! what will the band do?" I never went to a NEWS concert and never brought any merch. To me, it wasn't really the feelings of a fan whose band faces a crisis but rather that of an entrepreneur who invested too much money into one asset and watched it plummet.

Fandom stuff is a currency that can devalue in a blink of an eye. Its valuable as long as its core message is intact. This is why I can't stand people being petty over scans or videos. I share when I can knowing it will make someone happy because I know that tomorrow that someone might move on. When I stumble upon old closed journals with password-protected downloads they feel like ancient abandoned temples. The treasures in them turned to dust.

4nin NEWS were based on unity, the combination of 4 unique characters. Four components, each of them essential. Now that concept failed. It's like standing in front of a collapsed building. I try to assess the damage. How much of it can I salvage? Repurpose? How much is lost and needs to be cleaned up? Should I even bother?

What do I do with hundreds of live performances and TV shows, in HD, lovingly downloaded and stored?

What to make of thousands of scans, magazines, pamphlets, almost each image edited and sorted? Thousands more stored neatly in folders, waiting to be posted. Countless screens and gifs.

What of the member ai fanvideos that gained over 100k on Youtube bringing joy to so many people? I already got the first heartbroken comment saying "we won't ever see them like that again, will we?"

What to make of my unfinished stories? Honestly, it's one of the things I'm most proud in my entire life. Now their future is uncertain.

Do I take down the poster on my wall? The CDs on my shelf? Soon I will have to looks at my enormous stash and decide for each item. Things that once brought joy now cause pain.

NEWS weren't selling music, they were selling ideas and dreams. The cute band photos now cause hurt and anger. The uplifting songs about unity won't be convincing. All the concerts lost their charm.

Am I being too dramatic? Probably. Perhaps the issue itself may seem trivial to an outsider but our grief is real.

Tegoshi keeps saying he loves NEWS and adores the members. But to me, loving is doing everything you can to avoid hurting the ones you love. Perhaps he means it, but that love will never compare to the love he has for himself. Despite what he says, I doubt we'll even see them together again and I'm not even sure I want to. I knew apart from Koyashige, the members aren't really that close personally. Tegoshi is shallow and seeks popularity more than anything. I'm sure than now he'll hang out with even shadier characters than before. The members used to provide him with the much needed tough love. Now, with nothing and noone holding him back, he'll give in to his overblown ego.

I'm not sure how I feel about NEWS continuing as 3. I mean, I support their decision and that's probably what most fans want but to me, I don't know if it'll work out that well. They were already a band with a lot of luggage and now, just like in 2011, they are a band that induces pity. They would have to rearrange so much to try and fill this huge gaping hole. Not to mention they will struggle vocally. No songs, no choreography can be unaltered. It might be better to go on within the agency doing their own things. But then that would just mean Tegoshi was indispensable and all the work they put in will be wasted. The Story must be competed.

In the past week I went through various stages of grief. The anger was strong and so was disbelief. Now it's finally subsiding, giving way to acceptance. It won't come soon but I'll let all the emotions run their course. The fact is Tegoshi remains very entertaining and the temptation to keep following him and rant about him is strong. I probably wouldn't even fight it if he were to leave with at least a shred of dignity. But with the way things are, I refuse to support him in any way. And I will at least try to phase him out as much as I can as I realize that even my anger is playing into his hands as he wants nothing more than attention, good or bad. Instead, I'll try to focus on those who do deserve support.

I'm not yet sure how to proceed with the blog and everything else but I'll take my time and figure it out. The truth is Tegoshi was one of the two major things that have kept me here for so long. And no, the second reason is not Shige. It's the people. Out of all the fandoms I've been in over the years this one really felt like home. I met so many amazing people here, even though many of them have since moved on. I felt accepted and appreciated.

This week has been an emotional roller-coaster. But today I feel fine. I have a dozen reasons to be depressed. But I'm not miserable right now because of the fandom. I've had about 10 people write to me within several days. Some of them I haven't talked to in months, some I've never talked to before, and some from other fandoms. They reached out to share their thoughts and feelings, and I appreciate it so much. I felt less alone. I felt a sense of solidarity, a sisterhood. Many agreed with me and it was touching but even more touching were the people who didn't necessarily agree with me and still wanted to hear what I had to say.

Perhaps it's patronizing but I feel like right now the best I can do is stay connected and go through this together. If I can help others, through informing, making someone smile, or supporting emotionally, it's all worth it.

#musings

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queenlokibeth · 5 years

Text

Alright don't punch me, i'll start by clarifying that i'm a larrie. I'm not unlarrying. I'm being reasonable and objective and understanding that the boys are real people with real lives; this means that their relationship wouldn't be out of their fairy tale. Now bear with me and read each part:

A) I don't think that neither Camille or Danielle were beards.

B) Freddie is actually Louis's son.

C) Larry is still as real as always.

By now, Walls and Fine Album considered, we can be pretty sure that there was a larry breakup at some point.

If we consider Harry's comment before singing Two Ghosts on Nov 6th 2017 ("I wrote this song about the first time he broke up with me") we can assume that there was more than one break up.

With Harry's newer interview we now know that he wrote Two Ghosts for MITAM originally, so sometime around the beginning of 2015 most likely.

Now onto the facts:

Louis breaks up with Eleanor in march 2015. I do believe that El has always been a beard. If larry broke up, then there's no need for her to keep fulfilling the role.

Louis hooks up with Briana like in april. I have always been partial to Babygate. I've seen pictures of Freddie and he does look like louis. I do think he is his son. Bear with me now pls.

Think about it this way: he just broke up with his long-term partner and tries to move on by finding some rebound and a drunken hook up ends in a baby. Shit happens. Personality-wise this does fit with Louis, as he went through the "party the pain away" phase after Jay's passing, which is a similar reaction.

In november-ish Louis starts seeing Danielle. In my opinion, their relationship looked less stunty and there are pics of them looking content with each other in settings were it doesn't look like they knew were being photographed. This relationship did not resemble elou**r. To add on to that, Louis has kept a selfie with danielle on his instagram, while there are no pics of El.

Queue Jan 2016, Harry is spotted with Kendall on that yacht. Before that there had never been anything actually romantic between them, they were just good friends but I'm sure management tried to exploit it at times. Now back to Jan 2016: imagine a newly single Harry hanging out with his good friend Kendall. I think something might have almost happened there, or maybe there was something really short lived there, but I feel like it did not last past that boat. Friends sometimes try to see if something would work between them, and I think that was the case, but as you could see on the Late Late Show, their dynamic is a lot better as just friends and they probably realised that.

Move to Jan 2017: Louis and Danielle break-up and El immediately reenters the picture. I say Larry reunion. Louis went through Jay's passing and i'm 100% sure that Gentleman Sweetcheeks Harry Styles would be there for him regardless of friend/boyfriend/broken-up/mortal enemy/brother status. This reunion fits with the release of HS1 a few months later with all of the Larry anthems that we know.

But wait! Harry is spotted with Camille in July 2017, conveniently a week after the Heart Rate Monitor interview where he says that he "doesn't know her". We are aware, we KNOW that Harry can't lie for shit. This sounds true. We also know that interviewers are previously told if there are any off-limit topics, and likewise they can be asked to actively bring up others for PR reasons. I think that was the case. C is carefully introduced to the narrative and one week later they're together.

I do think Hamille started as a PR stunt/beard situation. I also do think that at some point during late 2017 Larry broke up again (see nov 2017 comment; more than one break-up) and since Harry was already spending time with C for contractual reasons, that might have sparked something real for a while. I think this fits because even though most lyrics on Fine Line are Larry af, there are a few that don't fit/point at a relationship with an additional person. The one in falling abour blaming "the drink and my wandering hands" is interesting, because we know from several pictures that Harry is a clingy, touchy-feely drunk, so what if that put some tension between larry at this point? This theory also goes with the clothes-sharing with camille (they have been undoubtedly seen wearing at least the same cardigan and pants) which we know he also did/does with Louis.

Eleanor is still in the picture. Their managers realise that even though they broke up before, they got back together, so they decide to keep her just in case. And they're right to do so.

Hamille's fake relationship ended exactly a year after it started (ehem contracts) but their real one probably ended at least a couple of months before that (the whole thing probably didn't last over 6 months), hence why by the time of their "official" breakup C seemed to be already in a fully stable relationship with her new guy. C probably ended things with Harry because she met this guy and Harry was probably still emotionally caught-up on someone.

Larry probably reunited around that time and have been going strong since then. For PR reasons the Hamille angle is still being pushed to promote Fine Line, giving it a lot more importance as to make it seem like it takes up more space on the album than it actually does. After all, that's the same PR team that promoted this album as being full of sex stuff when in reality there is like one (1) line about something sexy and maybe like 2 more if you look really hard for really niche double-entendres.

And that concludes my analysis. It's somewhat realistic, doesn't disrespect anyone, and not a single anti can tell me that i'm reaching because i'm doing the exact opposite. Check-mate.

#larry #larry stylinson #mine #i had an epiphany instead of pscking my suitcase

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straykats · 5 years

Note

hiii, ive never requested anything before so i hope i do this right, sorry in advance if i mess it up completely 😅... anyway, i was hoping i could request a long distance boyfriend fluff with felix where y/n is on her way to visit & he’s all giddy and blah blah (it’d also be super cool if you could add like a facetime call they had a few hours before y/n’s flight and maybe the scene in the airport when he picks her up) i hope you don’t mind writing this, thank you so muchhhh :)

your request was fine! it was very cute hehe

----------

Incoming call from lee felix…

Connecting…

Your screen shows a wall, and you let out a laugh. “Come on, ‘Lix, where are you?”

A head of hair pops into view, along with a forehead. Slowly, his eyes come into view, and then his nose and freckles, and then his whole face.

“Hi there, baby,” you smile fondly.

“I’m so excited to see you I might just jump through the screen.”

“Oh, shut up,” you mumble with a roll of your eyes, unable to keep the smile from your face. “How are you? How are the boys?”

Felix shuffles around, and the phone is suddenly very close to his face. You don’t mind the view though. It was still Felix, after all.

“You asked me that two days ago, y/n. Not much changes… BUT Jisung came down with a cold. Sucks to be him, aye?”

“Oh my, is he going to be okay?”

“First of all, that was just rude Felix, and y/n, yes, I will be!”

Your eyes widen at the familiar but unexpected voice. “Hey, ‘Lix, is he…”

Felix rolls his eyes and shoots a feign glare somewhere to the right of the screen. “Jisung, you said you’ll be quiet!”

“I never asked you to make fun of-” Jisung breaks off in a coughing fit. “Anyways, hi y/n!”

“Get better, Jisung!”

“Yeah, yeah. You lovebirds talk quietly now, yeah? This old man’s tryna sleep.”

“Old man?”

“He’s talking about himself, y/n.”

You break into laughter. You can hear Jisung mumble a few things before falling into silence.

“So, when are you landing?”

“I should land in Korea around 2pm…”

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow… I don’t know if i can sleep at all!” He says, rubbing his eyes as he talks. “There’s a new cafe that opened by the dorms, and it has great desserts. Also, the dog cafe! You can meet that golden retriever! Oh yeah, and all the members want to spend a day with you too… There’s so much to do when you get here, y/n. I can’t wait.”

Felix falls into silence, a lovestruck smile on his face. If you weren’t so entranced by the ideas and plans he had, you might have made a joke and teased him.

Living far away from your boyfriend wasn’t the worst thing. It meant that you could both focus on your selves, and talk to each other when you were both free and able to do so. Sometimes, you thought that it wouldn’t be too different even if you were living in the same country as Felix. With tours and schedules, it wasn’t like you would be able to meet up often anyways. However, that didn’t mean there weren’t any cons. When you and him were both free, the only way to meet up was online. You called often, and playing games together was also a common occurrence. You had a lot of memories of beating him in chess.

You guys could only meet up in person once or twice a year. You often visited for Christmas and during one of the holidays (given that he wasn’t away on tour). If you were lucky, he would have a concert in your city, and you could meet him for a day.

You were on one of your school breaks now, and he had few schedules within the week. It was the perfect opportunity to go visit.

“Hey babe, stay in call with me tonight?”

“Of course, y/n. Until you fall asleep.”

And he does. You fall asleep to his breathing, and he to yours. It ends up being Jisung that ends the call, if only to prevent Felix from using too much of the internet.

You: boarding the plane now. See you soon!!

You send him a quick selfie of you and your passport before pocketing your phone and getting in line.

On the plane, you were seated next to an old lady who offered you the window seat.

“I’ve had my fair share of plane rides, dear. Enjoy the view, why don’t you?”

She was awfully kind, and had many interesting stories to tell you. You were thankful for the company, despite having only met her.

“I’m going to see my granddaughter… she’s about your age, too. Who are you off to see, darling?”

“My boyfriend,” you replied with a smile as you pass her her food. “He lives in Korea, so we don’t meet often…”

“Ah, what a lucky young man to have someone like you come visit! Say, is he studying?”

You shake your head. “He’s… he’s part of an idol group.”

The lady lets out a laugh. “My granddaughter is obsessed, I tell you. What’s his group name?”

You spend at least an hour of the flight telling her about Stray Kids and letting her hear some of their music. She even lets you take a selfie with her, which you send to Felix.

You: image attached.

You: made a friend. She said she’s going to introduce skz to her granddaughter if she doesn’t already listen to you guys.

You part ways with the old lady after helping her get her bags. She thanks you endlessly, and wishes you and Felix a happy life. You find it highly endearing, yet amusing at the same time - she made it sound like the two of you were newly weds.

You: felix, where are you

You: don’t tell me you were playing fortnite and forgot about me :(

Walking out of the arrival gate, you see many people running up to hug their family and friends. You wonder briefly if the lady’s granddaughter is somewhere in the crowd. There’s one group of people that stand out - a massive family, ranging from babies in their parents arms to grandparents. A young couple were walking towards them, and someone you presumed to be the mother runs up to hug the girl, who seems on the verge of tears. You look away from what seemed would be an intimate moment, and-

You feel him before you see him, arms wrapped around yours and squeezing you so tight you couldn’t turn around. You would have panicked, had it not been for the familiar cologne and the faintly whispered “I missed you so much” into your hair.

“Let- Let go- Let me hug you too…” You whine, but you grab Felix’s arms anyways and cradle them to your chest. “Baby, let me see your face…”

“I can’t believe you thought I would have forgotten about you,” he says, and you can almost hear the pout in his voice.

He loosens his arms and you turn around. A face mask covers the bottom half of his face, but there was no mistaking the freckles decorating his face, and the love in his eyes. Pulling down his mask, you put your forehead against his, the tip of your nose barely brushing his.

“Long time no see, ‘Lix.”

The airport seemed to fade into a blur around you, the noise of trolleys and chatter blending together. It was just you and Felix, right now, and that was all that mattered.

#lee felix x reader #lee felix #lee felix fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids #stray kids imagines #lee felix imagines

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lonelypond · 4 years

Text

A Coffeeshop Christmas Carol, Ch. 2

Love Live, Love Live Nijigasaki, NicoMaki, NozoEli, ShizuKasu, 4.4K, 2/5?

Summary: Nico learns more about Maki and we meet some undergrads.

An Evening Out

In her three years at Tudor, Nico had never been to this part of campus. An old stone barn hidden among birch and pine trees. A small clearing, with carefully landscaped chunks of rock, a small creek running in front of it, with a simple wooden bridge, and a few pieces of modern sculpture, as well as what looked like a Rodin.

Nico took an oddly angled selfie and posted it to TWIG, with the caption, “Dropping off Nico’s perfect #AChristmasCarol script in a pretty part of campus. Where's Nico?”

There was a gargoyle styled iron door knocker and a more modern bell with “do not disturb” engraved in brass over it. Nico pressed the bell. No response for more than three minutes so Nico pushed open the door. Impeccable soundproofing. Instantly, music flooded out into the world, loud dancey music, bass and organ and drum tracks crashing. At the far end of the large open room, under a stunning multipaned window, Maki Nishikino, dressed gray sweats and black shirt more suited to a gym than a music studio, ball cap flipped to the back, bounced in front of a synth, twirling a knob above the keyboard with one hand while the rest of her was popping and locking as several tracks of “Uptown Funk” merged into a merry cacophony. It was the goofiest, sexiest thing Nico had ever seen and she hated to interrupt, but…

She pitched her voice to carry, “Nico thought you didn’t bop.”

Maki collided with the keyboard, only the stone wall keeping the keyboard and connected computer upright. Maki had no help and slid to her knee, eyes wide, then narrowing into a glare, “Why are you here?”

Nico pulled A Christmas Carol out of her bag, “Bringing you a copy of the script.” Nico stepped closer, “Need a hand?”

Maki shook her head, grabbed the pages out of Nico’s hand, and scurried back to an armchair she levered herself into. Nico watched as Maki struggled to get panicked rapid breathing under control and pull off nonchalance. It was a total fail, but Nico decided to be polite and ignore it. There was a couch catty-corner to the chair and Nico dropped into it.

“So you do bop?”

“Hell.” Maki leapt out of the chair, grabbed her phone out of a stand, and quickly slid her fingers around the screen. Nico’s script hit the ground.

That seemingly urgent task completed, Maki took off her hat, rubbed her arm across her forehead, and grabbed a waterbottle off a mini fridge, ignoring Nico the whole time. Nico examined her nails. Definitely needed a trim and a manicure. Better now before auditions when she had marginal amounts of free time. After auditions there would be no time.

Maki inhaled and squared her shoulders, then turned to face Nico. “I lost a bet with a student. They got to pick the song for my next TWIG stream.”

“Were you live?”

Maki shook her head, “Have to edit together all the parts I’m playing into one video.”

Nico nodded. “So you are thorough when losing bets.”

Maki’s lips pursed as her eyes unfocused, then she slid onto the stool near the synth, rolling the water bottle between her hands, “I am thorough with music.”

“Nico looks forward to what you do with her lyrics.” Nico pointed to the script. When Maki didn’t immediately rescue it, Nico knelt down, picked it up and offered it to Maki, who refused to make eye contact. After a minute, Nico tossed it on the chair.

“There’s not enough time.”

“Nico did most of the work. The lyrics are catchy and pretty simple. And it’s a staged reading so Nico can prioritize the must have songs for you.”

Intense amethyst eyes finally met Nico’s glance, “Don’t you have a composer you’d rather work with?”

Nico took the single armchair, “Nico did research. You haven’t done much, but everyone says you’re very promising. Nico thinks that’s a good sign. Nico believes in serendipity.”

“Serendipity?”

“Happy accidents. Things that make Nico smile. Like saving you from getting taken out by a car. There’s a reason we met.”

Maki held out her hand. Nico placed the script in it. Maki rifled through the pages.

“Nico can act it out for you.”

“I can read.” Maki put the script down, “I’ll look at it later.”

“And then call Nico.”

“I text.”

“Fine. Text. Nico’s emoticon game is the envy of sixteen year olds.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Helps teaching if I at least know the lingo.”

“Makes sense.”

“My little brother is 15. And he’s a texter too.”

“Oh.”

“It’s amazing how even in this AR world, words scrolling across a screen are still such a draw.” Nico continued to examine the large music studio. A gleaming piano behind a beautifully brush painted screen, a Nerf hoop, a dartboard, a museum quality ceramic vase with gorgeous flowers, a medicine ball, a screen with a video game console, a stack of hats, and an empty pizza box. Definitely an eclectic aesthetic. Although Nico was pretty certain it was a random series of choices, not a cleverly casual but oh so expensive decorating theme.

“AR?”

“Augmented reality. Someday, Nico’s going to use that kind of tech for the ghosts or some horror thriller play. Immersive audience experience.”

“Oh, those clunky headsets.” Maki got less interested.

“Not into hi tech?”

“Not into not touching.” Maki waved a hand through the air, then air played a piano keyboard, “I like heft and weight and resistance.”

“Nico will remember.” Nico stood up, “Are you free for dinner.”

“Huh?”

“You have to eat. It doesn’t sound like you’ve gotten around Tudor much. Nico knows a few places. I could give you a tour. What’s your favorite type of restaurant.”

“Italian.”

“Nico knows a pizza place that’s a little too expensive for the average student. Very ambient.”

“Not a word.”

“It is.”

“Not the right word.”

Nico shrugged and offered Maki a hand, “It works. And Nico won’t pitch A Christmas Carol until after dessert.”

“Deal.” Maki took Nico’s hand and let the newly declared tour guide pull her up.

###

No, of course, Shizuku Osaka hadn’t been looking for Kasumi Nakusa on her way to dinner at one of her favorite restaurants. Yes, Kasumi might have posted a “going for a late run” TWIG post and yes, the route to that restaurant might follow the tree lined path Kasumi liked to run along. But since Shizuku had been looking the other way when the bright eyed, fair haired actor called out “Shizuko!” she could credibly pull off a look of surprise.

Kasumi, who could be so put together and top tier fashionable, could also pull off a very feminine sporty look, like today. A tight fitting pink hoodie with a cute bear pattern, striped leggings, sparkly kicks, and short askew hair under a rainbow cycling cap made exercise adorable.

“Hi, Kasumi. Isn’t it cold for running?”

“Kasumin keeps warm.” She glanced at her smart watch, “Almost done, time to cool down.”

“You could walk me to Genovo’s. You must be hungry. I’ll buy you a salad.”

Kasumi frowned, then shook her head, sweat flying from her hair, and laughed, “You’ll buy pizza.”

“Okay.”

Kasumi stretched briefly. “So what brings you out from the dustiest shelves of the library?”

Shizuku shrugged. “No food allowed.”

“Send me a message; Kasumin will smuggle some in.”

“Didn’t you get kicked out of the library for being loud?”

Kasumi snorted, “I reported that library aide to the Chief Bookkeeper…”

Shizuku held back a giggle at Chief Bookkeeper. Kasumi was watching her for a reaction and Shizuku wasn’t going to give her one.

“Oh hey,” Kasumi pulled Shizuku down the path, “There’s Nico! Isn’t she the cutest. Professors shouldn’t really be that cute.”

Shizuku demurred on the question of cuteness, but watching Nico walking along, listening, next to a tall redhead, dressed in much less stylish fashion, Shizuku couldn’t help but be amused by the similar contrast to her own walk companion.

“Hey, Nico!!!” Kasumi shouted, waving.

Shizuku pulled Kasumi back, hissing, “Don’t yell.”

“But it’s…”

“Maybe she’s on a date.”

“That doesn’t look like a date.” Kasumi pointed to the two people now out of shouting distance, “She probably just ran into a friend, like you.”

Shizuku bit her lip, “C’mon, I’ll buy you coffee and sandwich instead.”

“Why...pizza sounded good. And I can ask Nico about Scrooge.”

Shizuku knew that dinner with Kasumi would involve a boasting match about who would have a better Christmas pageant audition, but she didn’t want to add the director of the pageant into the chat as well. Shizuku spun on her heel, heading back to the fringe of campus, turning Kasumi’s hold on her arm against her, “Coffee. Sandwich. And no audition talk.”

“No audition talk if you sing a duet with Kasumin while we walk.”

“Why?”

“Want to practice. Nico’s play is full of duets.” Kasumi hummed and spun, “Kasumin needs someone on her level to make it a challenge.”

On her level. That was something, Shizuku thought, a recognition that they might be...compatible on some level. Shizuku let Kasumi’s hand drop. “Fine. But I pick.”

“You know Kasumin’s range, right?”

“Of course.”

“And make it from this century.”

Shizuku feigned offense, “Never.”

Kasumi shook her head in fond exasperation, but then half bowed in front of Shizuku, hand sweeping out in a grand gesture, sakura eyes sparkling, “So what does the lovely lady wish to be serenaded with?”

Shizuku let the giggles out this time. Kasumi joined in.

###

Tall, blonde, blue eyes with hesitancy hidden deep, curves Nozomi might have calculated the probable dimensions of...and she was back. Nozomi stood up from where she was leaning on the display case and moved back to the counter, a wide smile on her face.

“Cheat day?”

Blonde and beautiful shook her head sadly, “Just wanted to get out of my dance studio. The walls are starting to talk back to me. A peppermint tea, please.” Another serious scan of the menu, “‘I’ll take a cup of your chicken and wild rice soup.”A shy smile, “Dinner. No time to go shopping.”

“What’s got ya so busy, Eli?” Nozomi noted the slight blush as she spoke the other woman’s name.

“Deciding which of my students to assign choreography to.”

“Take a seat.” Nozomi pointed to the coziest corner. “I’ll bring your food over. It’s been a quiet afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Eli glanced at the numbers on the register and slid her card through, adding a generous tip.

“You’re welcome.” Nozomi whirled off to assemble a tray, hoping to have a minute to continue to talk before more customers stopped in. Nolt was on cleaning duty for the next hour so Nozomi had solo counter duty.

Eli sat and wearily set out a stack of index cards. The first one she took a pencil to had Peanut Brittle Brigade written at the top in marker.

“Here you go.” Eli glanced up, Nozomi sat across from her, the tray in between them, and took the top index card off the pile.

“Toot Toot Tootie Toot?”

Eli sighed, “It’s also known as ‘Dance Of The Reed Pipes.”

“Who are Elsa and Jax?”

“Two of my independent study students. I have to decide which students to assign which Ellington pieces to.”

“Ellington.”

“Duke Ellington.” Eli said slowly, “Nico agreed with Nishikino about using his music for the pageant. So I have to start over.’

“Interesting.”

“Frustrating…”

“No, I meant…” After a pause, Nozomi put the card back, and slid the soup in front of Eli, “I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for your students. Actually eating usually helps with thinking.”

“Yeah.” Eli tilted her head, adjusted her ponytail and her goofy, good natured half grin was almost adorable enough to make Nozomi cancel the lurid fantasies she was going to indulge in later.

The door was pushed open and Shizuku walked through, Kasumi holding the door open as she continued a rant, “They better not be out of that really really good toasty bread Nozomi uses for her grilled cheese. I’m skipping out on pizza for you, Shizuko, but Kasumin still needs her melty melty mozzarella.”

Shizuku clucked in a soothing fashion, “I’m sure Nozomi keeps a stash just for you.”

“Of course, Kasumin is her cutest customer.”

Nozomi laughed. Eli was puzzled.

“Kasumi and Nico are going to arm wrestle for the cutest customer slot someday.” Nozomi whispered.

Eli glanced at Kasumi, “She’s tiny too. It wouldn’t be much of a fight.”

“They’re both mighty fighty.” Nozomi was amused to see Shizuku leaning into Kasumi to look at today’s specials chalked on the counter.

“And that’s cute?”

“If you ask them.”

“And if I asked you?” Eli bit the end of her pencil.

Nozomi winked before she rushed to the counter to intercept Kasumi, “I’ll tell you on cheat day, Eli-chi. Have fun.”

###

Maki, relishing their shared bruschetta appetizer with such ravenous enthusiasm that Nico had demurred after only one piece, looked around the room after cleaning the plate. Low lighting, jazz from a small combo, candles at the table. Nico was pleased with the ambiance. The live music was a bonus. She wondered if she could request ‘Satin Doll.’

“Much better than the coffeeshop.” Maki announced loudly enough to draw attention from the next table.

Nico nodded, making a mental note as Maki continued, eyes throwing amethyst sparks when they caught the candlelight, “More tomatoes, fewer candy canes.”

“Still upset about the tripping?”

“Huh?”

“When we met? You practically fell into Nico’s arms. And your score went…” Nico threw up her arms, “Couple of days ago?”

“Oh.” Maki licked her top lip. Nico wondered if a taste of tomato had lingered, “No, it’s not about that. Candy canes are a Christmas thing…” Maki ran her fingers through her hair, head turned to the side.

“And you don’t like Christmas things?”

Maki shook her head.

“Too much coal in your stocking as a young delinquent?”

That got Maki’s attention, “I was a valedictorian, not a delinquent.”

“Okay, genius. Nico heard you were a doctor.”

“Didn’t finish med school.”

“Why not?”

Maki pushed her hair back over her ear, staring behind Nico, whispering dreamily, “I confide in the piano the things that I sometimes want to say to you.”

Nico, surprised, squeaked, “To Nico?”

Maki, surprised, blushed and began to race through words, hands flailing, water glass leaning precariously until Nico rescued it. “No, no...Chopin said that, in a letter, to a friend…”

“A friend friend?” Nico guessed, smirking.

Maki grimaced, “Frederick Chopin wrote what were probably love letters to men, a boyhood friend from school, but Poland erased the...gay parts.”

“Like Poland does.” Nico rolled her eyes. Poland was not joining the rest of the EU protecting LGBTQ rights and voices. They had a long history of discrimination. Nico let anger color her voice. “Let people love. Let kids grow up and know who their heroes actually were.”

“Yes.” Maki leaned forward a little, less self conscious now that they had moved onto a less personal discussion. “You can’t just erase people’s lives and loves.”

“So many students are still so closeted, even now. They need to know people lived, people live full, fully queer lives. Nico helps whenever she can. If you’re here, come to my Friendsgiving party.”

“Friendsgiving?”

“Nico hosts a party for students and faculty who don’t go home. We eat, watch movies, play games.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It is.”

Their dinners had arrived. Nico let the conversation lull so they could eat. Maki obviously took her Italian food seriously and Nico didn’t want to lose the convivial mood. A whisper to the waiter had ‘Satin Doll’ playing. Maki looked up at that.

“Nico’s favorite. I couldn’t resist.”

Maki smiled, “Good choice.”

Nico decided to venture a question, “So was the ‘you’ a bad breakup? Over Christmas?”

Maki’s jaw set, her eyes narrowed and the sharp tightness of her mouth was mood: barbed wire barricade. She lifted another bite of Spaghetti Pomodoro to her mouth, chewing slowly, staring at her plate. “Can we talk about something else?”

So yes, the ‘you’ was a Christmas breakup. So that was part of the problem. At least A Christmas Carol wasn’t centered around Scrooge’s love of anything but money.

“Nico is planning a full slate of Victorian games, to get everyone excited about A Christmas Carol.”

“It’s not after dessert.”

“You demanded Nico change the topic so we’re skipping ahead.”

Maki’s eyes widened at Nico’s peremptory tone, but she nodded.

“I’ll read it tomorrow.”

“Start with the Scrooge-Marley duet. It’s the heart of everything.”

‘How?”

“Marley comes back to make Scrooge change his heart, so he doesn’t suffer like Marley has. And Scrooge actually listens to Marley, instead of kicking him out like everybody else.”

“So?” Maki was obviously more into pasta than Nico’s point.

“He drags his ghostly fetters off of the eternal Purgatory treadmill to tell Scrooge to get on Team Human. And sends three other spirits. That’s a lot of investment. Do you have any friends who would do that for you?” Nico thought that hit a good level of passionate persuasion.

Unimpressed, Maki tapped her fork against the plate. “My friends wouldn’t have to do that for me. People don’t scorn me on the streets. I’m not kicking orphans and widows. I’m donating to food banks and bail funds and medical research.”

“Okay, Bill Gates, you’re good. But in Dickens’ fictional universe, Jacob Marley is all Scrooge has.”

Maki knew there was somebody, a nephew, “Fred. He has Fred.”

“And he can’t stand Fred. But Marley was his friend. His sole friend. His singular person in the world. And Marley was gone. And then he’s back.”

Maki pointed an accusatory utensil. “You made it gay.”

“No. I didn’t make it gay.”

“Sounds gay.”

Nico sighed, “You have friends, right?”

Maki nodded.

“It’s not always about the gay, right?”

Maki’s expression was interesting.

“Explain that look to Nico.”

Maki shook her head, “Can’t.”

“Fine, Nico will have to meet these friends. But Scrooge and Marley...well, they didn’t talk about guys or girls….they talked about GOLD.”

Maki nodded, Nico had a point. Scrooge was definitely more into profit than pleasure. But was that deferral? Had he met Marley and then drifted from Belle?

Nico cut off Maki’s next comment. “But Nico did not make Marley coming back to save Scrooge gay. Guaranteed. No homo.”

Maki had this serious look on her face, leaning forward, chin in hand, eyes thoughtful, “I think I’d like it better if you did.”

“Urrrggghhh.” Nico ripped her napkin off the table, “Just read Nico’s play. Then this would be so much easier.”

Maki was a calm pond Nico couldn’t ripple. “But I like Dickens. The language has vigor. And I like gay.”

Nico wanted breadsticks to snap. “You’re just trolling Nico.”

Maki’s half shrug was all exasperating charm, “Did you request any other songs?”

“No.”

“Let’s go someplace else for dessert.”

Nico waved at the waiter, curious. “Okay.”

###

Nico had never walked through this part of Tudor, near the railroad tracks, lots of repurposed urban loft style architecture. Maki kept up a quick pace, obviously familiar with the sidewalks.

“Where are we going?”

Maki turned her head, “You said you wanted to meet my friends.”

“Are we taking a train?”

Maki shook her head, “Nah. I live in this neighborhood. And conveniently, Bread and Brew is right down the block.”

Nico had heard of Bread and Brew, but with her apartment on the other end of town, she never spent time in this neighborhood. It seemed grungy or steampunk, definitely not collegiate cute and quaint like the shops around Market and the Square. Nico liked collegiate cute, but as she watched Maki stride confidently ahead, Nico admitted to being intrigued.

Bread and Brew looked closed, all lights off. Nico was about to say something when Maki ducked down an alley, leaned down and knocked a quick tempo on the metal door of the cellar. It took a minute, but the door opened up and a ginger head poked up, “MAKI!” booming out.

Not much quieter was the “Who’s that?”

“Nico. Umi knows her.”

“Oh, okay. Hi, Nico, nice to meet you. Cute outfit. Come on in. We’ve got some pumpkin ale left.”

“Did you bring me to a speakeasy?” Nico whispered to Maki.

Maki grinned and headed down the stairs, Nico following, what sounded like a samba playing. The metal door slammed behind them and Nico heard a “sorry” as the ginger bounded by them and the samba suddenly had a drum rhythm as well as maracas. And then the singing started. Was that Umi Sonoda? Wow. Nico knew Umi taught violin and conducting classes, but her burnished alto was that of a vocalist with serious training.

There were a handful of tables and chairs, a couple of couches, a cuddle of loveseats, surrounding a small stage. On stage were Umi at a mic, the doorkeeper on drums, another, shorter ginger playing maracas, and a bespectacled woman with banjo, and a baby grand. A tapped keg stood on a bench with a few mugs. A fawn haired woman sat alone at the center table, dressed like she was front row at a Paris Fashion Week runway. Maki headed for that one, tapping on the wood to distract the audience from the singer, “Kotori, meet Nico; Nico, Kotori.” And then Maki hurried to the piano to join in.

“What is this place?” Nico asked.

“Oh, Umi likes to sing and Honoka…”

“Honoka?”

Kotori pointed to the drummer, “doesn’t have a liquor license yet, so we try out new batches and the musicians have jam sessions occasionally.”

It was a speakeasy.

Umi stepped back from the mic, consulting with Maki. Another samba rhythm started, and as Umi swayed, her ombre blue back swing skirt that picked up all the shades in her hair gracefully moved in time with the music.

“That’s a gorgeous dress.” Nico whispered. Umi’s usual wardrobe was exquisitely cut business suits.

A giggle. “Thanks.”

“Yours?”

“My design.”

“Do you have a boutique?”

“An atelier.”

“Why doesn’t Nico know?”

“It’s in New York. I’m back for the holidays.”

“Lucky Nico. You have to show me your latest.”

Kotori had a lovely smile, but Nico didn’t get used to it, because after a soft hum of agreement, all Kotori’s focus was back on Professor Sonoda, who was flirting with the drummer in a coy fashion that knocked Nico sideways. She noticed scrutiny and glanced toward the piano. Maki had been watching her, but glanced away as soon as Nico paid attention. The super cute maracas player kept tilting into the equally cute, seemingly shyer banjo player. This was obviously the gay speakeasy of Nico’s dreams. Well, if they played some current songs. And the bango switched to a bass. Nico thought she might have seen that woman on campus, but both gingers were new faces. Nico sat back, fascinated.

###

As Umi approached the table, Nico whistled. Umi blushed and sat next to Kotori, Nico guessed their hands were joined under the table.

“That was amazing. Nico didn’t know you had that in you.”

Umi shrugged, “Playing with friends is fun. And relaxing. The ability to experiment sharpens my skills for teaching.”

Maki was onstage, still playing samba rhythms, totally focused on the piano. All of the other musicians had drifted off, talking to friends among the small audience.

The drummer swept up with a tray of drinks, “I promised you a pumpkin ale, new friend Nico. Here you go.”

Nico took a mug. Beer wasn’t her favorite, but if that was the group’s taste, Nico was in. She wanted another invite so it was time to turn on the charm and find out more about this basement club the most conservative member of the faculty seemed to be running. Honoka pulled a chair up next to Umi, and slid her arm around in an embrace.

Nico raised her glass in salute. “This is cozy, Nico approves.”

“If you want to come back, you’ll have to give us a song.” Maki was standing behind Nico. “I’ll play.”

“Ooohh, that’s a great idea, Maki! Is Nico a professor too?” Honoka bounced in her seat.

“Nico chairs drama and performance.” Nico was proud of her job.

Honoka pulled her face into a serious mask and intoned, “To be or not to be…”

“Nico prefers musicals.”

“Oh, you’re the director Umi always talks about.” Kotori rested her head on Umi’s shoulder.

Nico turned to face Umi, “You talk about Nico?”

Umi coughed, “I have enjoyed your perspective on staging and often mention to Kotori that she should consider helping us out.”

“That would be amazing. Your dress is…” Nico chef kissed the air.

“Umi just wants Kotori to spend more time here in Tudor.” Honoka downed a mug.

Umi arched an eyebrow, “Would you complain?”

Nico felt a tap on her shoulder, Maki, impatient, a grumpy cute frown crunching her lips.

“Song.”

“Guess Nico will have to sing for her dinner.” Nico sighed with a fake dramatic flair.

“Dessert.” Maki corrected.

“Lead the way, maestra.” Nico slid her arm through Maki’s. The pianist jumped.

Maki shook Nico off and rushed to the piano.

Nico leaned over the side of the keyboard. “What do you know?”

Maki rolled her eyes, “Probably more than you. What do you know?”

Nico shrugged, letting Maki’s bravado break around her. “You like Ellington, right? Play “Tulip or Turnip.” And Nico hummed a few bars, the notes low in her throat capturing her accompanist’s entire attention.

Maki blinked, “Okay.”

And Nico owned the room. Maki barely kept up and for once, kinda wished she could look up from her keyboard, but she had offered to play for Nico and she was darn well going to do the best job her memory and ear could manage. As Nico sang “champagne or just home brew,” Honoka guffawed at something Nico did and Maki’s concentration almost broke. When the song was over and Maki finally glanced at the singer, Nico was perched on the arm of a couch, the entire room completely under her thrall.

“So” Nico stood, stretching toward the ceiling, then jumping down to the floor, “does Nico get a return ticket?”

“NICO NICO NICO” Honoka started chanting, stomping enough to shake the table, soon joined by the maracas player. Nico seemed taller...or glowier...or…

“And some love for Nico’s accompanist.” Nico clapped for Maki, skipping over to kiss her on the cheek, “Nico hasn’t had that much fun in years. Thanks!”

And then Nico spun back to the center table, sliding between Kotori and Umi to chatter at them. And before Maki could decide what to do next, Rin was there, pulling Maki back to her table, “So who’s Nico?”

“Professor. Wants me to compose for her.”

Hanayo was sipping from a mug, “Oh, the Christmas pageant. That sounds…”

Maki hadn’t realized she was growling.

“Sorry.” Hanayo squeaked.

“Maki, you have to get over it. You got over Santa…”

“Shut up, Rin.”

Rin did not shut up, “You can get over…”

Maki shoved Rin.

“C’mon, Maki. We’re your friends. You came here to spend more time with us and less time in your gloomy apartment.”

“I came here to play the piano.”

“”Cause Kayo-chin told you to.”

“Rin!” Hanayo put a hand on her wife’s arm, “Leave Maki alone. We’re having fun tonight.

Rin leaned into her wife, rubbing her cheek against Hanayo’s arm like a cat. “We are. That was awesome.” Rin sat up and pointed, “And Umi’s going do another. ‘Cause Kotori’s here. Umi’s always happy when Kotori’s here.”

Center stage again, Umi began.

Some like a night at the movies Some like a dance or a show Some are content with an evening spent Home by the radio Some like to live for the moment Some like to just reminisce But whenever I have an evening to spend Just give me one like this

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening” Sotte voce and in full agreement, Maki joined the chorus.

A/N: Well, I had been on the fence about adding in Kasumi and Shizuku and decided no, but then the Niji anime 1st season ended and I realized they were going in. So there will be another chapter, maybe two.

Also, stay safe out there for many reasons.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #A Coffeeshop Christmas Carol #Christmas Carol #NozoEli #ShizuKasu #RinPana #kotohonoumi #sonoda umi #Minami Kotori #Kosaka Honoka #Koizumi Hanayo #Hoshizora Rin #Ousaka Shizuku #Nakasu Kasumi #Christmas #Holiday #fluff

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elopez7228 · 4 years

Text

Scenic Route 13/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

“If you’re going to follow us on tour I’m going to have to introduce you to the others,” Ben told her.

Rey chewed on her lip nervously and he practically read her mind.

“Don’t worry about Syed. She can be a jerk sometimes but she’ll come around. She won’t cause you any trouble.”

He was heading to the door when her hand on his forearm stopped him in his tracks. Her palm burned on contact.

He turned around, feigning disinterest. But he had lost the ability to speak for a second. What was he, fifteen again?

Rey’s hazel eyes locked with his own. She had freckles on her cheeks and nose and she looked unwittingly adorable, even in shock.

“Ben, is this Syed girl actually your girlfriend?” Her eyes widened, ”She always keeps track of who you take out or share your room keys with, doesn’t she?”

Ben turned to her, towering over her with his massive frame. One of his arms rested casually on the wall behind her. Rey didn’t move. She could feel his breath, his sharp cologne, and she could see the outline of his muscles through his t-shirt. She blushed visibly, looking down.

Ben didn’t miss her reaction. “What? You’re jealous too?” He smirked.

He was expecting it. Rey blinked. She inhaled him, and for a fleeting moment a memory replayed itself, surging back from the depths of her subconscious. She suddenly remembered the feeling of kissing him—prying his lips open and seeking out his tongue as she breathed against his mouth.

But she didn’t remember how it had happened. Had it been in a dream? Was Ben worming his way into her erotic fantasies?

Ben was well aware that she was eyeing his lips, though she probably didn’t realize it herself. His heart beat faster and he swore that his pants felt tighter. He concentrated on making the tension in his gut disappear.

“Don’t you worry, we’re not together. But let’s just say we have history,” he replied.

It was a euphemism at best, but Rey didn’t want to find out. She nodded. “I...I should start the dryer,” she said lamely.

The moment had clearly passed. Ben chewed half-heartedly on his lower lip. He’d wavered. He should have kissed her. He needed the taste of her lips the way a parched man needed an oasis. Had he missed the perfect occasion?

Rey ducked out of the corner she had backed into, bending over in front of the washing machine in order to transfer her clothes to the dryer. Her phone bulged awkwardly out of her front pocket, so she paced it on the machine next to her for the time being.

He responded in kind by letting his arm drop in a futile gesture. “Okay. If you still want to shower, I think there are stalls by the pool. I can give you access. Looks like you have a good forty five minutes courtesy of the dryer.”

She avoided his eyes but managed to nod. “Yeah, sounds good, let’s go,” she murmured as she got up.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben observed that she had left her phone behind on one of the washers. Taking special care not to touch the screen with his fingers, he slipped it into his pocket as Rey exited the room. Now he would know if she was truly an Earth Soldiers operative.

He guided her to the pool area which he unlocked with his room keycard. It was an indoor heated pool, and she would find showers in the locker room. He turned to leave.

“I’ll be in the lobby,” he clarified, “Rendezvous downstairs?”

Rey thanked him and beelined to the changing rooms. He made sure to distance himself before taking a sharp left into a corridor. It was there that he pulled out his spoils from the laundry room.

It was some kind of Android.

He could just barely make out her fingerprints on the illuminated lock screen. But would he get the password pattern right without activating the autolock? He examined the traces carefully. It looked like an “E” on first sight.

Failed attempt.

Then he tried an “F”, an “F” for Finn.

Bingo

He cracked a disbelieving smile as the lock screen dissipated.

But he didn’t have much time. What should he look up first? He badly wanted to go through her Facebook, her social network, or her emails maybe...he could find her photos with Finn. What did he look like? He wanted to look upon the face of the man who was inconsiderate enough—or insane enough—to snub a woman who had no equal.

Concentrate Kylo, what are the vitals?

Call history.

He scrolled through her recent calls and took screenshots on his own phone. Her voicemail was empty.

Emails: Jessika, Poe, and what appeared to be work memos from her job...in England.

Then, he opened her photo album. Wyoming landscapes, two selfies—with Phasma in the background —the sheer level of amateur fuckup there was absolutely incredible at this point. He scrolled a little lower...

Ben chewed on his lip for the hundredth time that day.

A series of selfies of her and a young black man with a charming smile. He looked sweet and loving, if one were to believe exhibits A through Z of the evidence footage.

Ben’s mouth suddenly went dry as he scrolled through the pictures of her trying on a wedding dress. A delicate, lacy A-line gown with a corseted bodice and a short train. Her beauty was breathtaking.

What struck him most was how happy she was, Ben had never seen her smile like that, with such effortless sincerity. He had finally gotten to know her well enough, after a string of haphazard encounters over the past three days, and now he felt a sudden pang of aching sadness.

He took some more screenshots with his own device and noted the emails and addresses of Rey’s friends: Jessika Pava, Finn Storm, and Poe Dameron. He also recorded the name and address of her workplace, and listed all of her British connections (most of whom were employed in London). What the hell was she doing Earth Soldiers, then? None of it made sense.

Either she really had no connection or she was communicating with the activists using another phone. The second option was by far more probable, seeing as she had access to both the Millenium Falcon and BB8.

In any case, he had to give her phone back. He would rather not risk putting it in the laundry room for fear of having it truly stolen. He walked up to a room service attendant who was making the rounds with a cart. A fifty dollar bill ensured that she would take the phone to the reception desk and claim that she had found it on a dryer in the laundry room.

Then he headed to the lobby where Syed informed him that Shakti and Skylar were taking a tour of the city while the rest of the band were in their respective rooms.

So much for introductions.

While waiting for Rey to reappear, he sent a summary of his findings as well as some coordinates to Snoke, who would no doubt find suitable people to investigate each and every element he brought up. If they found a link had been established between her and Earth Soldiers, or the Skywalker clan in particular, he would be the first to know.

Rey emerged from the corridor leading to the lobby in a frenzy. She was wearing clean clothes but her bag was stuffed to the brim with the rest of her unfolded laundry. Ben and Syed rose to their feet simultaneously.

“I’ve lost my phone!” she exclaimed anxiously, “It’s an absolute catastrophe, I won’t be able to travel alone without a phone—what if I drop dead in the middle of the desert?!”

“Are you sure you checked everywhere?” Ben asked, “what if it’s at the bottom of your bag?” he hoped he sounded convincingly worried about the situation.

“No, I...I emptied all of the contents. And my pockets too. I’m retracing my steps...I went back to the laundry room but it wasn’t there I—“

“Try asking the front desk,” Syed suggested, “Someone may have seen it and turned it in.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, taken aback by this unexpected show of benevolence on Syed’s part. Rey’s face lit up.

“I didn’t even consider that! Thanks!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Rey run up to the receptionist and exchange a few words before the woman presented her with a phone. She buried her face in her hands, her body visibly sagging with relief against the counter.

Then he turned to Syed, cocking his head to one side. “What was that? Are you playing good cop now?”

She gave him a dirty look. “I’m a professional. I know my job, and I deliver. Did you have doubts?”

“Not for a second,” he responded. He then turned his attention to Rey, who was approaching them triumphantly, smartphone in hand. She gave Syed a brilliant smile.

“Thank you so much, I was on the verge of a breakdown. And...sorry for the whole coffee thing earlier,” she said, extending a hand towards the other woman.

“Syed,” she said as she shook it, “No worries. Kylo tells me you’ll be following us on tour?”

Rey glanced over to Ben, seeking his approval, but his face was impassive.

“Oh, no, I mean, not the whole tour. Just some dates. To uh, have a few road stops here and there cause the drive is long,” she was babbling at this point, “It’s just that I’m traveling alone and it would be good to have people to meet up with if I’m having an off day—“ Rey paused, clamping her mouth shut before she could add or if some random blonde woman decides to follow me and steal my car. “—Anyway, I don’t want to spend too much time here in Jackson Hole, but I think I’ve decided to attend your concert tomorrow, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, you’re welcome to,” Ben replied, “I can even give you backstage access, but we won’t have too much time to hang out because we need to set things up for the next show.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Rey smiled, “I’ll take the time to look around a little. Since I landed in Denver I was so busy I never had the chance to really see any of the place. Do you know what I could do around here for fun?”

Syed was going to throw up. It was hard enough to play nice for long without having to play tour guide too. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Rey only seemed to have eyes for Kylo. Alas, it seemed like Kylo was no better in that regard. If anything, he was worse. It took a painful amount of effort on her part in order to stop the bloody Brit from running for the hills. But she managed to keep her voice somewhat natural: “Well it is a winter sports lodge, you could always take the chairlift up the mountain and come back down on foot. Or go on a boat ride down Snake River a few miles north of here.”

“Ah, a hike would be a great idea, but I’m not sure if dogs are allowed on the ch—oh shit, BB8!” She had completely forgotten that BB was still in the parked car, for over an hour now. She shouldered her knapsack, still half-open and overflowing with laundry, and ran towards the exit.

Syed and Ben remained standing in the lobby, watching her run like the wind. As the automatic doors screeched to a close, a feeling crept over them, like calm and devastation at once. Like going back home to examine the damage a tornado had done to your home. Everything was suddenly dead silent. Ben felt empty inside again, and he took a deep breath. As though he had stopped breathing in her presence.

Syed sighed audibly in exasperation, “Okay, spill it. What the hell’s your problem?” She spat venomously.

“It’s her.” He responded, his mind a million miles away.

“Trust me, I got that part.” She rolled her eyes, “Where did she come from? Why is Snoke interested in her?”

Ben turned to face her in a slow and deliberate movement. “I’ll explain, but not here. Right now your job is to monitor her every move. The good news is that the dog doesn’t recognize you. Unlike me, who it tried to take a bite out of, stupid mutt.”

Syed’s eyes widened in amazement. “Her dog really tried to bite you? Are you kidding me?”

“It belonged to my uncle, Luke Skywalker. But it doesn’t add up: why is some English tourist touring the U.S. in Han Solo’s car, accompanied by Luke’s pet? There are too many coincidences here, I have to figure out her relationship with them.”

“So you can do what? Punish her with the intensity of your longing looks?”

Ben blanched. The fact the Rey threw him off his game was one thing, the fact that Syed was picking up on that and threatening to use it against him...that, he would never tolerate.

“We’ll see about that.” He said through gritted teeth. “Someone has to get her to talk. If I can get her to admit what my mother has been plotting against FORCE, I’ll sound the alarm.”

“And you think it’ll be some pillow talk confessional? Is that your plan?”

Syed maintained her sangfroid for the most part, but her voice shook with a certain anger that didn’t escape Ben’s notice...but he certainly approved of the idea of a pillow talk confessional. A flame licked down his spine, obliterating all his worldly pain for a moment. He managed to smile, looking for Rey’s telltale silhouette as he scanned the hotel lobby with his eyes.

“And why not? The ends justify the means after all...and you’re going to help me.” He slid a hand into his pocket, revealing a packet of cigarettes. “I’m going to take a smoke break. Fetch the others, I’ll take care of Rey for now. We’ll meet up at the Gun Barrel Bar in an hour. I advise you to take this seriously because Snoke certainly is.” He turned to leave.

Instead of leaving herself, Syed blocked him, placing a hand over the fly of his trousers. He was trying to hide the fact that he was still recovering from the idea of bedding Rey. She gave him a stroke from base to tip, smooth and fatal. Her other hand latched on to his torso, and she brought herself up on her tiptoes to graze her lips against his mouth. “Don’t try to hide the effect she has on you, Kylo” she whispered in his ear, “I know you by heart. Don’t try to tell me that this pillow talk scheme is all in the name of Snoke. You’re thinking with your dick here. Don’t screw over the mission you were assigned. Be careful Kylo—you’re at risk of disobeying the boss man yourself. I hope that fucking her will be worth the pain, because you’re going to lose the mission, and your job.”

“Fuck you,” Ben hissed, and Syed let him go.

“Whenever you want, wherever you want, baby. And I’ll be quick about it too.”

She held up her middle finger as she sauntered in the direction of her room, ostensibly making sure that her point got across.

#reylo #fanfiction #scenic route #Modern AU

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youcanhavemybuckanyday · 4 years

Note

Answer all of them. 1-170. have fun.

HELL YES LETS GOOOOOOOO

1: How tall or short do you wish you were?

5′2″. Exactly how tall I am now. I like being short.

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not)

I’ve always wanted a ferret. They can weed out people for me. If a person says “Ew, it’s a rat” then they ain’t worth my time.

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style?

Whatever’s on sale. Preferably baggy and comfortable

4: What was your favorite video game growing up?

Always has been and always will be the Nancy Drew computer games. I’m obsessed. There are 32 games (we don’t talk about number 33), and I’ve played each one dozens of times.

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day:

My laptop, my dog, my tumblr account

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Warning: Prone to spontaneous breakdowns, both physically and mentally.

7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]?

Honest opinion on @Elizard-Hamilton, the person who sent this ask: They’re super sweet and kind, and probably the first reciprocal tumblr friendship I’ve ever had.

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic]

Don’t know what that is, too drunk to figure it out right now.

9: Are you ticklish?

God yes. But I retaliate. If you tickle me, you will die.

10: Are you allergic to anything?

No, that’s the one medical thing that I don’t have.

11: What’s your sexuality?

Hetero-Demi Sexual. So I like men, but I’m only sexually attracted to them if we’ve been close for a long time.

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa?

Cocoa, always. Specifically, Tim Hortons Hot Chocolate. Medium, 2 creams.

13: Are you a cat or dog person?

Dog. Always.

14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson?

I answered this one already, definitely merperson.

15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber?

Nope.

16: How tall are you?

See above.

17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to?

I’d just add an L to my name. New name, pronounced the same.

18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]

Right now, 126 lbs. But I should be 110. I just got off a medication that made me gain 40 pounds practically overnight. I went from 100 pounds to 140 pounds. I’m slowing losing the weight.

19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits?

Not in the traditional sense, but I do believe there are things about the departed we don’t yet understand. Kind of like way back when they though lightning was a supernatural event, until they found a scientific explanation for it. I think there’s stuff we just haven’t discovered yet.

20: Do you like space or the ocean more?

Ocean.

21: Are you religious?

Nope, athiest.

22: Pet peeves?

Idk, I can’t think of any right now.

23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]?

Wtf I don’t know? Who cares? I’d rather be whatever koalas are. They sleep 22 hours a day.

24: Favorite constellation?

The only one I can think of right now is big dipper. That makes it my favourite and also my least favourite constellation.

25: Favorite star?

See question 24, but North Star.

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls?

I don’t know what that is? Do you mean like Barbie? I litterally watching Barbie Nutcracker right now, lol.

27: Any phobias or fears?

Spiders.

28: Do you think global warming is real?

Duh.

29: Do you believe in reincarnation?

No.

30: Favorite movie?

Does Hamilton count? If yes, that. If not, Knives Out. I’m a sucker for a good murder mystery.

31: Do you get scared easily?

Yes.

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime?

Oh god. Idk. You’re going to make me do math on vacation. Lets see. 3 Dogs, 2 Cats, ungodly numbers of fish, 2 rats, 5 hermit crabs, 3 hamsters, probably others I can’t remember.

33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.]

@elizard-hamilton 10/10. 5 stars. Thumbs up. Gold Star.

34: What is a color that calms you?

Royal Purple. I used to have a bedroom where everything was royal purple. The walls, the furniture, the bedding, the accessories. Everything. It was a great time in my life, so the colour makes me think of good times.

35: Where would you like to travel and/or live?

I’d love to go to Belgium. My grandmother was born there, and we still have family over there that I’ve never met.

36: Where were you born?

London Ontario

37: What is your eye color?

Hazel

38: Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs?

Not at all

40: Hugs or kisses?

None of the above. I have Asperger's, I don’t like to be touched.

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now?

I’d love to see my BFF from high school again. Haven’t talked to her since we graduated. Rachel, if you’re out there, I miss you.

42: Who is someone you love deeply?

My parents.

43: Any piercings you want?

None.

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings?

Nope. I don’t have anything against them, they’re just not for me. If you have them, I won’t think any less of you. There’s nothing wrong with them.

45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so?

Nope. I’ve already got really shitty lungs (I have Cystic Fibrosis), I’d rather not make them worse than they already are.

46: Talk about your crush, if you have one!

Oh gosh, he’s cute, funny, talented, a great singer, a great writer, he wrote a hit broadway musical... oh, he doesn’t count? Then no, no one right now.

47: What is a sound you really hate?

Styrofoam rubbing against more styrofoam.

48: A sound you really love?

The notification sound tumblr makes when I get something in my inbox

49: Can you do a backflip?

HA no.

50: Can you do the splits?

HA HA no.

51: Favorite actor and/or actress?

Do I even need to answer this? I’m going to anyway. It’s..... drumroll........ Danny Devito! Lol, no, it’s Lin Manuel-Miranda

52: Favorite movie?

This is the same as question 30.

53: How are you feeling right now?

Drunk. Next question.

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now?

Purple. I used to have purple hair. Then I got older and got a real job and I’m not allowed to die my hair anymore.

55: When did you feel happiest?

At 16, with my purple hair and purple bedroom and my bff in like grade 11

56: Something that calms you down?

Hamilton

57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]

Asperger’s, Depression, situational anxiety.

58: What does your URL mean?

Every time is Hamiltime. Because it’s always time for Hamilton.

59: What three words describe you the most?

Bizarre, confrontational, idk. Is there a word that means unwilling to put up with anyone’s bullshit? Because if so, then that.

60: Do you believe in evolution?

Yes. Evolution is a fact, it’s been proven. So this question should not say do you believe in evolution, it should say do you accept evolution.

61: What makes you unfollow a blog?

If they start posting stuff i disagree with, or if they totally veer into a new fandom I’m not interested in. I’ve lost so many good blogs to kpop.

62: What makes you follow a blog?

Idk, I like their stuff?

63: Favorite kind of person:

Kind people.

64: Favorite animal(s):

Pug.

65: Name three of your favorite blogs.

I’m not going to start naming friends, cause I’ve got way more than three and I know I’m going to forget someone, so here’s 3 random blogs I enjoy: gmoringgnight, tinywhim, torsnavi

66: Favorite emoticon:

I’m on my laptop, i don’t have emoticons right now, but probably the one where he’s crying laughing

67: Favorite meme:

All of them. I love all the memes.

68: What is your MBTI personality type?

I’m too drunk to remember right now, ask me tomorrow.

69: What is your star sign?

Pisces

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog?

He cannot. He’s an idiot. But he can give you a high five, if that counts for something.

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most?

Leggings, T-Shirt, Hoodie. Whatever’s clean.

72: Post a selfie or two?

73: Do you have platform shoes?

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself?

I can solve a rubik’s cube

75: Can you do a front flip?

LOL NO

76: Do you like birds?

To look at, not to own or touch

77: Do you like to swim?

Very much. In the water, it’s the one place my back doesn’t hurt.

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you?

Swimming. I don’t skate. I know, oh wow, a Canadian who can’t skate. Sue me.

79: Something you wish didn’t exist:

Trump.

80: Some thing you wish did exist:

Alex Clairmont-Diaz

81: Piercings you have?

My ears are pierced.

82: Something you really enjoy doing:

Reading

83: Favorite person to talk to:

My mom

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr?

Amazing, finally a place I can be as weird as I want and it’s totally anonymous.

85: How many followers do you have?

I have no idea.

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

HA no

87: Do your socks always match?

Yes

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely?

When I was 14, they did a surgery where they put metal rods in my spine to keep it from growing crooked. My spine doesn’t bend at all. So I’ve never tried to touch my toes, but I’m going to go with no, I can’t.

89: What are your birthstones?

I think Aquamarine? I don’t remember.

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be?

Koala. They sleep 22 hours a day.

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be?

I can’t think of any flowers right now beyond rose and tulip, and neither represent me. Is there a flower that’s really ugly? If so, that.

92: A store you hate?

Gap. I despise that store with every escence of my being.

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

None. It tastes like manure.

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

Ooh, fly. No more wheelchair.

95: Do you like to wear camo?

I don’t think i particularly like or dislike it. I just don’t wear it.

96: Winter or summer?

SUMMER ALL THE TIME

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

Not long at all. See explanation above, r.e. Cystic Fibrosis

98: Least favorite person?

Trump

99: Someone you look up to:

My mom

100: A store you love?

Hot Topic. Yes, I’m basic like that.

101: Favorite type of shoes

Flats, cause I don’t have to attempt to bend over to put them on.

102: Where do you live?

Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. Yes, I’m serious.

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why?

Nope.

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

Wtf? Are people supposed to have a favourite mineral or gem?

105: Do you drink milk?

106: Do you like bugs?

107: Do you like spiders?

108: Something you get paranoid about?

If I remembered to turn off my computer before I go to bed.

109: Can you draw:

Nope

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked?

On a daily basis, people ask me why I use my scooter or my wheelchair. Every day. Not so much during the pandemic, but yeah.

111: A question you hate being asked?

“When are you going to get a boyfriend?” “When are you going to settle down?”

112: Ever been bitten by a spider?

NOPE

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

Who doesn’t?

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

Cloudy, cause then I can stay indoors guilt-free

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now:

My dog. But he’s with my sister.

116: Favorite cloud type:

???? Is this something I’m supposed to have an opinion on?????

117: What color do you wish the sky was?

???? IDGAF ??????

118: Do you have freckles?

119: Favorite thing about a person:

Their laugh

120: Fruits or vegetables?

Fruit

121: Something you want to do right now:

Get another drink, but that’s probs not a great idea

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier?

Ocean

123: Sweet or sour foods?

Sweet

124: Bright or dim lights?

Dim

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature?

126: Something you hate about Tumblr:

I can’t reblog ads. Some of those ads are really, REALLY funny.

127: Something you love about Tumblr:

Completely anonymous. I could be anyone. For all you know, I’m actually Mike Pence. (I promise I’m not)

128: What do you think about the least?

Idk? There’s probably lots of stuff I’ve never thought about at all

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

Nothing, but I want there to be a little machine on top that looks like a parking meter, and when you put money in it you get wifi for an hour.

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now?

Trump, most of the politicians in the states. I want to go to New York, and I can’t because y’all can’t get your shit together and kick this virus.

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

My face. Not going to elaborate.

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

Yes, but only because I get yelled at if I don’t.

133: Computer or TV?

Computer.

134: Do you like roller coasters?

I used to. Then the back surgery and now I can’t anymore.

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness?

Motion sickness no, seasickness yes.

136: Are your ears lobed or attached?

Lobed.

137: Do you believe in karma?

I believe that what you do will eventually come back to bite you in the ass, but I don’t believe in some cosmic force that balances the scales.

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are?

0. Not going to elaborate.

139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

None. My name has always been Adele. The few people who tried to give me nicknames got shot down real quick.

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends?

When I was little, yeah

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

Yes ma’am. For over a decade.

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

Both at different times.

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

Giving. I never know what to say when receiving.

144: What makes you angry

A lot of things these days. Can’t think of anything specific. My sister, usually.

145: How many languages do you speak fluently?

Two. I speak French and English.

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

Boys.

147: Are you androgynous?

Nope.

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself:

My face. Not going to elaborate.

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

My “take no shit” attitude.

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person.

Lin Manuel Miranda, Renee Elise Goldsberry, anyone from West Wing

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

Revolutionary America

152: Do you like BuzzFeed?

I’ve been known to partake.

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.]

Nope. I’m forever alone.

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

No. I have Asperger’s. No touching.

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair?

No.

156: What embarrasses you?

When I need to ask for help for really simple things because of my wheelchair or other disabilities. I hate it.

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

The future, for reasons way too complex to write in a tumblr post.

158: Biggest lie you have ever told:

I convinced half my second grade class I was related to Elton John once. That was fun. They believed it for like 3 months.

159: How many people are you following?

Hundreds.

160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)?

I don’t even know how I would find that out.

161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)?

Right now, I have 12, but that’s because I’ve queued up the next 4 days HamiltonHungerGames. Usually, I have none. I don’t understand how people have drafts. When I feel like writing something on tumblr, I start a post, I end the post, I post it. I never use drafts

162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)?

??? Again, I have no idea how to find that information.

163: Last time you cried and why:

I honestly don’t remember.

164: Do you have long or short hair?

Usually long, but right now short. My mom decided to give me a covid haircut, and she does not understand the meaning of “Just a trim”.

165: Longest your hair has ever been:

Down to my butt.

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon?

Dislike. I’m not going to talk about it here, but if you’re really curious you can dm me.

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

Yes, because if we know where the universe and world came from, we can figure out where it’s headed. See the book Origins by Dan Brown.

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

Not at all.

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds?

I can barely stand on my feet for more than 30 seconds.

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

Tried to.

Ok, this took me an hour and 45 minutes. I’m tired, I’m drunk, I’m going to regret this in the morning, I’m going to bed. Night y’all.

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ginnyzero · 4 years

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Completely Harmless Ch. 45

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Forty-Five She sells sea shells by the ... river shore?

Lily tried to regain control of the meeting. “Pauline, where do we stand on the decorations?”

“Okay, here is the ideas I’ve had with everyone talking. Okay, we take flower wreathes and put them on the lamps and then wrap them with more flowers like the ones in the wreathes and our artificial palm leaves, and the sea shell garlands and sea shell lights. Then, if you have an arm to hang things off of, put a paper lantern with more flowers if you want. Um, don’t choose any flowers that are protected ladies. Then we can use the bubble garlands and the jelly fish lights like we did with the clouds and rainbow hearts from the trees. You can mix them up with the regular paper lanterns too if you want. Put the flower lights, sea shell garlands, and paper lanterns in all the stables. You can make the paper lanterns look like bubbles if you do it right.”

“Like with the clouds.”

“Exactly!”

“Then we can use the beach scene lanterns the exact same way we used the heart lanterns. But you can add the decorated anchors or ship wheels in with them. Or use the shell buckets instead. We put up the boats with the selfie walls, boats have nets decorated with shells, the round white circles have flowers and greenery like they’re a big wreathe. Put up some of the round lanterns, throw in an anchor and a wheel for props if they want. Um,” Pauline scrolled through the pictures. “We can create cabanas for the bar and the dance floor using frames, sheets, the flower lights, the artificial palm leaves, and inside have the jelly fish lanterns and more bubble garlands. The bar can have a net on it and be strewn with the decorated shea shells and the shea shell lights.” Pauline stopped at the giggles.

“Sea shells,” Lily said dryly.

“Sea shells,” Pauline repeated. “We can have more bucket, anchor, wheel decorations on that. And the pineapples, because Lily wants the pineapples. We can put more of the artificial palm leaves there too. Above the bar can go the jelly fish lights and the bubble garlands.” She paused. “And these lace sailboats are cute. We can have them as a prop too at the selfie wall. I mean, I think we’re actually set for decorations. I mean, I know it sounds more than what we had for Rainbow Week, but we’re mixing them in more interesting ways?”

“There are more bigger pieces.”

“And no balloons.”

“Right, I mean, we could use the lantern lights instead of balloons to fill up space or use the jelly fish lights and white lanterns to make little scenes.” Pauline shrugged. “We’ll have to experiment.”

“Food,” Lily moved on.

“Jorvik Crawfish Boil,” Pauline checked her notes. “Crabwiches, fruit salad in a carved watermelon bucket, Vegetable and mushroom skewers, popsicles, watermelon on a stick?”

“One sounds too many.”

Pauline crossed out the watermelons on a stick. It seemed redundant.

“I saw mermaid tail favors. We could put candy in them?”

“We should have cookies, like citrus ones.”

“That means they’d be orange.”

“Orange cookies.”

“I also saw plastic seashell favors, we could put something in those too.”

“I think we better put out some things like pretzels and Cheetos for people like Alex,” Lily said.

“Okay, now we need some drinks because I think we’ve covered food pretty well. And I mean, we can all buy snacks to put in the buckets. That’s not difficult.”

“Pretzels, popcorn, Cheetos, and crisps.”

“Wait, can we really have a bonfire without s’mores, sausages, and potatoes?”

“Yeah, and bread for the sausages or to eat with the crawfish.”

“Cheese, we might need cheese.”

Lily rubbed her forehead. “Fine. But we’ll have to figure out how to split it out. Drinks.”

“I make some really chillax awesome drinks.” Tim spoke up. The first time he’d spoken up in a while. Maybe he was overwhelmed with the eager teenage girls. Or maybe he didn’t care that much about the food or the decorations.

Lily turned her head. “Yeah, I think we might want to test your drinks first.”

“Shibby!”

“Why don’t you tell us the ingredients?” One of the girls asked sweetly.

Tim rattled off his ingredients. They included kidney beans. Kelp. Corn water. Fermented potato juice.

Lily held up a hand. “Fermented potato juice is vodka and corn water is basically moonshine. Are you trying kill us and get us drunk?”

“You don’t think people will like them.”

“I think maybe we should stick to things like banana and strawberry smoothies. Orange juice. And grape and seltzer punch.”

“Apple juice. Watermelon and blueberry spritzers.”

Tim slumped in his seat.

“Those will bring the tourists back for more.” Lily patted his arm.

He sighed. “They sound boring to me.”

“We can try to make them exciting. Package them in fun ways! Mermaid, err, okay without lemons this is not as easy as you’d think.”

“Grape comes in clear.”

“Ohhh, that works. Look we did this at home, just color up some different ice cubes, put edible rainbow glitter around the edge of the glass. Put it in some grape juice with soda if you want, and let the ice cubes melt. Mermaid Cocktail. Or as it was described early grape and seltzer punch.”

“Mock up a white grape sangria too, strawberries, blueberries, apple or orange slices in white grape juice, apple juice, and soda.”

“They can be fun, we promise,” Lily patted his arm again.

Tim sighed. “All right, I’ll have to trust you.”

“Put the orange and soda in hurricane glasses, drizzle strawberry juice into it, garnish in a fun way, sunset hurricane drink.”

“See,” Lily smiled at him.

Tim didn’t look convinced.

“Watermelon and grape go with a lot of things. And we can get you the cucumbers too.”

“Okay, I think we’re good to go.”

“We’ll come up with a recipe list.”

“All right, then we’re doing the different wreathes at the different parties,” Lily said. “Let them have the sand souvenirs. We can do necklace garlands and bracelets to I guess for the luau theme.”

“And hide decorated Conch Shells, because they’re big, and colorful,” Pauline said. “Like, I think these are plastic or vinyl. I hope they are. Real conch shells might be too expensive.”

“Okay,” Lily nodded. “Hedgehogs, you’re the source of the crawfish for the crawfish boil. I’m leaving that to you.”

Riley groaned.

“I know you’d rather have the mermaid favors. Kelsey that sounds like something Madison would enjoy doing.”

“She would. So, we’ll take it.”

“You’re going to have to make a lot of them so, yeah.” Lily wrinkled her nose. She didn’t feel bad about giving that to them and only that. “Bulldogz, I know how you feel about Jamie cooking.”

“Someone is trying to hire her for the Midsummer Feast and thank goodness she’s easily distracted.”

“So, you can have the shell party favors.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Josefina spoke up. “We’re the source of the strawberries and the blueberries. Do you want us on drinks or on the fruit salad?”

“We’re going to have to buy watermelons in bulk from the food stalls.”

“Okay, question,” Lily put her chin on her hand. “Who among is a competent melon or pumpkin carver? Because they should be the ones doing the fruit salad. I mean, I don’t think the carved bucket idea was a plain bucket?”

The girls got on their phones and started texting people in their clubs.

Loretta shook her head. “None of mine.”

“Loretta, since you have the Midsummer Festival grounds in your area, are you going to do a beach party too?” Lily asked, genuinely curious.

Tan leapt in. “Of course we are, and we’ll decorate those Dark Core containers and chase off the goons if we have to.”

Loretta made a face. “They’ve been stealing. Can you believe it?”

“You don’t say.” Lily’s voice was bland. “Do you have any records of it?” Lily asked. She wasn’t at all surprised that a company with a name like Dark Core hired a thief.

Tan tossed her head. “I recorded everything.”

“Could you send it to Linda?” Lily asked slowly and raised her brow.

“Linda? Why would she want to know? I mean, she’s one of those weird druid riders,” Tan flicked her wrist.

“Because the Baroness will want to know,” Lily said. Frustrated she had to spell it out. “And Linda is her personal assistant and monitors her emails.”

“Oh, in that case, sure,” Tan said and dug out her phone. “As long as the Bobcats get the credit for catching them.”

“I’m sure Linda will tell her.”

Loretta sniffed. “I had them all file reports with Thomas.”

Lily nodded and texted that information to Linda as well.

Linda texted back she was going to ride over to Moorland to get it. She needed to see Alex anyways and she was probably at Maya’s.

“Or with Justin,” Lily murmured. Had Justin gotten up the nerve to say anything to Alex yet? Lily shook her head.

“I’ve got a carver,” Amelia said. “She sent pictures of her work. She can carve buckets and flowers.”

“Then you’re on for the fruit salad,” Lily said. “Do you mind another club coming and picking fruit for the cocktails and the popsicles?”

“Not at all.”

“Chipmunks,” Lily turned to them. “I know you’ve got the farmers, but you also have Harold.”

“Orange slice cookies. On it, Lady Captain Lily.” Kate saluted and then fluttered her hand and bowed.

Lily restrained a sigh. Of course Kate would choose both.

Pauline spoke up. “I think we should take the popsicles, Lady Captain President, we’ve got the big freezers in the Wine Cellar to keep them in.”

“Right, good plan.”

Pia spoke up. “I’ll take one of cocktail slots. That way I can work closely with Tim to make sure they’re fun and fizzy.”

Sonja spoke up. “We also have the other fruits in our forest. So, we’ll take a cocktail slot too. And help everyone harvest fruit.”

Ingrid was next to volunteer. “Ma Anna knows pastry, and croissants like those crabwiches are pastry. We’ll take the crabwiches and make different meat salads for them.”

“Fish salad, chicken salad, egg salad, ham salad,” Violet muttered.

Pauline checked her list, “That leaves the Pandas, the Bulls, and the Cats.”

“What do we have left?”

“Veggie skewers.” Pauline checked. “Snacks, bread and cheese, etc., and more cocktails.”

Loretta spoke quickly. “We can do the Snacks, bread, and cheese and so on. That’s all shopping. We are power shoppers. And none of the stinky stuff from Will’s Mill either.”

Ami wrinkled her nose. “We have a spa. We know cocktails. We’ll help out there and see what we can do with our grapes.”

“That leaves us the Veggie Skewers, and we can get most the produce from the Farmer’s Market and do assembly in Valedale.” Melissa nodded.

Lily spoke up. “This is going to sound crazy, but maybe we should have Courtney Summers do the Midsummer Feast. She’s a local and maybe she knows the local dishes.”

“Barney, Marley, and Carney can cook too,” Kate said. “Or, so says Barney. They have all the traditional recipes.”

“Kate, can you do the invitation thing? I’m sure the Baroness will refuse to invite her personally. But notice, she showed up last time.”

“I’ll invite all of them to do it. Make it a family affair. It’s a week and if we have too much food, well better than none at all.” Kate nodded.

“All right, well, here is hoping that the budget can take this,” Lily said.

“I bet we can get the farmers to donate lots of the supplies,” Kate waved her hands. “It’s for the Midsummer Festival after all.”

“That would be good.”

“We can approach them individually and get back to the group,” Amelie said with a nod.

Luciana spoke up. “I’d like to put a cabana up on the beach near the Dews Farm to be the gathering spot for everyone finishing up their charity events.”

“Splendid plan, Luciana,” Lily nodded. “We can set up one there, and a dance floor and it can be a celebration. At the end of the week, we’ll have all the money. Where are we keeping the money?”

“Silverglade Manor’s safe.”

“Right, we’ll have all the money and can present Maya with a big fake check. And I hope that will be enough to get them out of their debts and back on their farm.”

“They’re in foreclosure,” Loretta sighed. “Not bankruptcy. I had to go over it with her three times.”

“If they’re in foreclosure, that’s easier than bankruptcy to an extent. Though what did they do? Take a loan out on their farm?”

“From G.E.D. instead of a bank.” Loretta pushed her hair back behind her neck.

“Well, Ms. Drake is going to take the cash or else I’ll shove it where the sun don’t shine,” Lily muttered.

“Make it super public,” one of the girls said. “She can’t be a monster in front of a lot of people.”

“Ms. Drake?” Amelia asked.

Josefina snorted.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’re going to have to do the same thing for the stables once it happens.” Ginny said.

“Have they tried anything but threats?”

“No. But the stable is in debt. To the bank, not to them, praise Aideen. But if the bank forecloses on the property, we’ll all be kicked out. Though your plans with the Friesians have been working. And Mr. Kemball has started on the Riding Arena. We’ve been having to keep him honest.”

“That must be a job and a half.”

“Like keeping James honest,” Pia said.

There was some nervous laughter.

“All right, Mares, Frogs, Squirrels, Terriers, and Kittens,” Lily said. “Get your areas in order. Your job is to focus on your section of South New Jorvik County and come enjoy the Midsummer Beach Party when it’s on. If you have problems with G.E.D. or Dark Core, report to me or to Linda.”

Pauline interrupted. “Music, Lily. Music!”

“Well, Fort Pinta will have DJ Kai. And I know New Hillcrest will have Syntax.”

“We’ve got a pretty big beach with a lot of islands all picked out.”

“I think asking Mr. Wetton for thirteen acts again is a bit too soon. Plus, it would make Rainbow Week less special.”

“Radio the different music the DJs are doing.” One of the girls suggested. “Set up a transmitter. Jack it through that tower in the Grey Mountains that G.E.D. has set up and it should get the entire county. Or stream it online.”

“That’s devious, and I like it.” Lily grinned.

“They shouldn’t have an obnoxious radio tower that big up there anyways. Radio towers can be much more discreet. I mean, put one on the observatory and it won’t be a blight to the landscape.” There was a sniff.

Lily turned to Pauline. “Happy?”

“Syntax can hack the tower,” Ginny said.

“Yes, keep them hacking for the greater good.” Lily smirked.

Kate shouted. “Okay, pizza time!”

They were all hungry. And there were new people to meet. So, they had pizza and wings and loaded potatoes and talked to each other and Tim. Though they all agreed Tim was quite strange and was it college or something else?

They split up.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

#star stable #star stable online #sso #fan fic #jorvik reimagined #star stable salt #silverglade reimagined #completely harmless #beach is tough not to be tacky #many nods to ruth westside

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