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#ooc: went with that date since it's close to my birthday and working out where my Sev has been as of late
halfblxxdprinc3 · 1 year
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On The Threshold
who: open where: the hopping pot / diagon alley when: may 2nd, 1982
Those who wore their hearts proudly on their sleeves were considered fools in Severus’ mind. Those who could not control their emotions; were easily provoked; wallowed in painful memories. It made it all the easier to twist and contort the mind. Especially in dark times such as the one Severus found himself smack-dab in the middle, now.  In times where a powerful, dark wizard has a tight grip on many fates. Including his own.
‘I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!’
His own words echoed in his mind, but had to quickly push them out. Severus would not let himself be weak. As if out of a daze, the young man shook his head and memory from his mind and noticed one of his journals open on the table. The page itself, had spinets of sentences; unable to be complete; the whole page rendered incoherent. Gulping, his eyes flickered towards his hot toddy, still being stirred by the spoon he had cast a small spell on, and closed the little book. He only looked up when he felt a presence near him.
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pandoras-princess · 4 years
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Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader)
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*gif not mine//credit to owner
A/N: Hello my lovelies! 🌸 Welcome to my first ever Peaky Blinders fic, I wrote it ages ago and have just edited it slightly so my apologies if the quality isn’t greaaat but the other parts will be better I promise! 😅 This is an AU fanfic where John never married Martha or had kids before he married Esme and there is no Grace for Tommy andddd the timeline is absolutely wack, I know it’s a lot so if you’re in the market for a traditional by the book Peaky Blinders fic this one is not for you I’m afraid 🤗 also if you’re finding it a bit slow I advise you to hang in there until after the time skip because that’s the better half of this part in my opinion, nevertheless I seriously enjoyed writing this so Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is forever welcome 😌
Summary:  Being the bestfriend of Jonathan Shelby meant that you’d grown up attached at the hip. And considering you were hopelessly in love with him, life was eventful to say the least. With John marrying Esme you decide it’s high time you got over him. And as they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else...
Pairing: (OOC) Thomas Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing, violence, smoking and drinking, mentions of addiction, mentions of sex but no smut I’m afraid
PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR
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Being John Shelby's best friend was definitely not an easy job.
You and John were the exact same age, born on the same day of the same month of the same year, precisely one hour and eleven minutes apart, and since your family only lived one house away from the Shelby's it was a given that you and John would grow up to be best friends.
You were as good as family to them, so when your father was killed in the war and your mother unable to cope turned to the drink and drugs, you were left officially orphaned at age 10 and Polly arranged for you to live with them, raising you as her own.
Growing up with the Shelby's came with it's challenges. They were all fiercely protective of you but no one more so than John. When you were kids he'd beat up anyone that dare made you cry, or sad or angry or anything other than happy really, and as you grew older and began to date he'd scare away anyone deemed not up to scratch, which seemed to be pretty much all of them, threatening violence known around Small Heath as common behaviour for the Peaky Blinders. This meant that you never really had a boyfriend, or many boys interested in you at all for that matter, and any who were rarely had the balls to act on it for fear of the Peaky Blinders wrath. However this didn't bother you much as there was only ever one boy you truly wanted interested in you, the one boy who never would be interested in you.
Of course being a teenage girl you'd had your silly crushes, Tommy being one of them. But they all paled in comparison to what you felt for John.
Being best friends meant that the two of you spent practically all of your time together, did everything together, went through and dealt with everything together. He had always been your shoulder to cry on, your ear to bend, your hugs and smiles and laughs, your safe place. It was inevitable that you'd fall for him. And fall for him you did, painfully obvious to everyone except John himself.
Shortly after your 16th birthday, you were reading a book by the fire, a woven blanket strewn across your legs and a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands when John bursts into the house loud, drunk and jolly. He often snuck out to join his brothers in their shenanigans - whether it be business or pleasure - and you were all too happy to listen to his stories when he came home.
You watched John intently as he regaled to you his latest night out. You watched the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly as he spoke, a smug smile tracing his lips every so often. His eyes glistened from the whiskey and his lips were wet. A cigarette clasped lazily between his fingers, his eyes closed for a split second whenever he took a drag. Deep in admiration of the boy sitting in front of you, you didn't quite notice the change of events in the story.
"-and then she walked right up to me and kissed me!"
It was at that point that your attention snapped back, ears pricking up and heart racing as you go over what he'd just said. But too excited to wait, John didn't give you the chance to work out if you had misheard him.
"Well before I know it she's got me in the back alley dress hiked up going at me like a feral she was. Can ya believe it after all this time I'm finally a man aha!" John exclaims, a goofy, ear-splitting grin plastered on his face.
He spares any explicit details, knowing it was no way to talk with a lady no matter how close they are to you or how drunk you may happen to be. Nevertheless, upon hearing those final words coupled with the look of pure elation on his face, your heart shatters into millions of ice cold shards right before your eyes. The pain that was rapidly building in your chest and the image of John with some tart, skirt bunched around her waist fucking like dogs in the alley was too much for you to bear. A wave of nausea washes over you and you stand abruptly, dashing to the loo before the contents of your stomach emptied onto the carpet.
A few minutes later you hear faint knocks on the door.
“Ye alright in there love?” John asks, concern lacing his words.
“All good” you reply quickly, willing your voice to steady itself.
Wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead you collapse into a heap against the wall, and a sigh escapes your lips as you wrack your brain for the exact moment you had lost him. While John had never shown any signs of liking you, you were always able to draw hope from the relationship you two had, no matter how blind it may have been. Now though, he had dashed that hope, blind or otherwise, as he had given himself to someone else. He had openly chosen not to be with you.
Not to be yours.
Fobbing John off with some excuse about a dodgy dinner you quickly retreat to bed, going without giving him a hug, unable to bring yourself to touch him. And from that day onwards you lived with the knowledge that your love was unrequited. You lived with loving him, and him not loving you.
For the most part it was rather easy. John wasn't the kind for serious relationships - preferring causal sex to the committed kind - so you never really had to deal with any girlfriends or the lark, just the occasional tart interested in him on the rare nights out you tagged along. Even then, you soon learned not to go on any nights out without Ava or Polly present and so the issue of John and his women quickly became dormant. That was, however, until John agreed to marry Esme Lee.
Tommy came to you before asking John, asking for your help in convincing him. He knew John would come to you with it asking for advice before deciding. Tommy explained his plan, marry John off to the Lee girl forcing them to squash the war and join forces to overthrow Billy Kimber. It was simple enough and since you'd already accepted there was never to be a you and John, you agreed.
The time came and sure enough John came to you, confused and somewhat annoyed at Tommy's rough handed approach, and sure enough you stayed true to your word, telling him it was nothing new, people had arranged marriages all the time.
So on he went to marry her, your true feelings unknown to the man.
[2 years later]
"You shouldn't be working here you know. John certainly wouldn't like it" Tommy said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you carefully wipe down the bar surface. He was referring to your new job as barmaid in the Garrison and having just finished your first shift you were cleaning up. Last orders had been and gone and every punter had now left the pub, drunk and merry on their ways.
After John married Esme you spent the next two years much to yourself. You embraced the spinster lifestyle and faded away into the passing days. However it was the turn of a new year and to everyone's joy you'd come to your senses, deciding it was high time you stopped wasting your life moping after John. He didn't love you - that much was clear - but somebody out there must and so it was time for you to move on, you thought. Reinvent yourself. This 'new you' started with marching into Tommy's office and demanding the new barmaid job. Surprisingly he offered no resistance, merely a quizzical look at your sudden determination before giving you the job. So here you were, your first shift done and nobody left in the place but you and your new boss.
"Well it might surprise you to know, Mr Shelby, but I don't abide my decisions by what John would or would not like me doing" you reply. Finishing up you leave the cloth on the bar and make your way over to the table, taking the chair adjacent to his.
"Is that so?" He asks, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he offers you a cigarette. You accept, bending down slightly to the offered flame and without breaking eye contact, you light the cigarette and take a drag, exhaling as you sit back up.
"Yes, Thomas, that is so" you reply, the use of his name making clear your exasperation with the questioning.
"Very well then, a toast-" he picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours some into each glass, placing one in front of you and taking one himself "-to your new job, and to your new found freedom" he says, locking eyes with you on his last words and clinking your glass before you both down it. If growing up with the Shelby's had taught you one thing it was how to hold your liquor.
Soon you and Tommy were halfway through the bottle and quite drunk, too caught up in the fun to notice. It was now something past 3 in the morning; you and Tommy had been talking, drinking and laughing for nigh on 3 hours now, going through old stories of your childhoods, stories from before you were born and from afterwards, stories of your parents and stories of his.
"So tell me, what is the meaning behind this sudden change in you then?" Tommy inquired, only too happy to see your old self back again.
Before you knew it the whiskey had gotten the better of you and you found yourself telling him the reason. You told him about John, about your love for him, about that night and about how you'd come to terms with it and decided to move on.
"Besides, it's not like he was the first boy I ever liked, so I'm quite sure he won't be the last" you state matter of factly, unaware of the storm you had just brewed.
See, unbeknown to you, Tommy was fully aware of everything you had just poured out to him. He knew about your love for John. He knew the deepest parts of your heart, your mind, your soul. Every crush and fling you'd ever experienced Tommy knew all about it, thanks to a little book you liked to keep hidden under your mattress. You had been detailing all matters of yourself in that little black journal for as long as you could write. Polly happily replacing it when you found your current one full, it was much easier than finding a shoulder to cry on every time you needed one. When Tommy came across it he had no idea what it was, merely out of curiosity did he open it and start reading.
"Oh, who was?" Tommy asked, lighting another cigarette. Following suit you decide to take a minute to weigh up your options, drinking in the smoke as you did.
"You” your voice remains deceptively steady, not wanting the man watching you so closely, so attentively, to become aware of the raging swarm of butterflies occupying your stomach.
"Is that so?" Tommy pulls on his own cigarette, the smoke rising from his lips as his eyes lock onto yours. "So what changed then?" His eyebrow arches perfectly, a smirk gracing his lips.
"You're 4 years older than me! There was no way you'd ever look at me as anything other than an annoying little sister!” You say in a chuckle, the fiery whiskey encompassing all of your thoughts in a humorous glow.
"And if I told you I do look at you as something other than an annoying little sister?" His eyes flick to your lips for a millisecond before returning to your own (E/C) orbs. If you’d have blinked you would’ve missed it, but your full attention being fixed on the man before you meant that you hadn’t.
"Well... that would certainly change things." The possibility of one of your fantasy's coming true ignited you to your very core.
Silently, Tom rises from his seat and offers his hand to you. You take it, and he leads you to his office with the worst of intentions in mind.
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os-hyoideum · 3 years
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the wh*res are fighting 19 (one-shot)
Part 19: THE DATE
Previous - here - Next
masterlist
(this, perhaps, can be read seperately, so if you you wanna check it out, but nit the SMAU, then go on 😉)
a/n: Ok, it took me a long time, but I had a lot of uni work and it's also almost 5k words 🙃 Like, I can pull the standard SMAU texts out of my ass in an hour sometimes, but this? Nah-ah, I like writing, but I'm mostly slow. (but I will write out the ending too) Since the format is different, I'm putting content warnings on this (outside of the ones on the matserlist). Again, it's an AU so I will write Touya as bitchy or soft as I please, and I take no criticism for it 💅 (now watch me destroy them after some nice time - if you see this no you don't)
THE SHOT IS UNDER THE CAT
WORDCOUNT: 4878
CONTENT: hero!AU (Dabi/Touya is a hero), OOC, Y/N is awkward at feelings (cringe), lack of safety equipment (sledgehammers), romantic arson (just a bit), cursing, tatted up/pierced Touya, Touya rides motorcycle
I really hope you gonna enjoy it, cause I enjoyed writing it and I think it's alright!
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You looked up from your phone to see the place where you were to meet Touya. As a first part of his date plan, he invited you to a small café that looked almost like a bookshop from outside. On the windows hung colorful fairy lights (although turned off, due to it being bright outside) and some handmade paper decorations. It truly was a nice place, but quite an unusual choice, considering it was Touya who chose it; a bit too wholesome perhaps, but who were you to judge.
After making sure that the address you arrived at was the correct one, you stopped under a tree to get some shade from the warm sun rays. You started to look around, seeing people, some of them in a rush, some enjoying the nice weather, while leisurely walking to their mysterious destinations. Unfortunately, one face was oddly familiar. Standing on the opposite side of the road was an ordinary looking man in dark clothing. Looking straight into your eyes, he moved towards the crosswalk and, in a very relaxed manner, directed his steps towards you. 
You tensed up, ready for anything. It wasn't a good omen to see him right there, right now. He was sent there as a warning and it was apparent in his intense gaze and every little calculated move. Also, because you knew how the gods' machine works. 
After barely a few seconds, the unnamed man stopped right in front of you, leaving precisely one and a half meter of space between your bodies. Perfectly straight back, relaxed face features, hands in sight. It didn't seem as though he was there to attack or cause trouble (any bigger than his presence alone already was), but you knew better than to let your guard down. Staring him down, you waited patiently for his words.
“Hello, number Four,” he said with a slight underline of contempt in his voice.
“What do you want?” You looked around to check if any unwanted attention was on you two. It wasn’t really necessary considering both of you looked like ordinary civilians, but, at the end of the day, it’s better to be aware of one’s surroundings.
The man shifted his weight slightly, taking half a step closer.
“You know your little paradise won’t last long.” He exclaimed and smiled cynically. “Or have you, perhaps, forgotten?”
“Fuck off.” With a cold voice and a cold gaze, you ended the short exchange. The man did not move, however. He stood, still with an annoyingly straight back, in front of you and looked both harmless and ready to leap at you, had he deemed it necessary.
The stare off was short lived. A few seconds later you felt a presence coming from behind you and the man was pushed away by Touya, who came just in time to hear the end of your conversation. He looked a bit concerned, but stared at the mysterious person with a hard gaze and little bit of blue flame coming from the corners of his mouth.
“She told you to fuck off, so go and scurry away.”
Unbothered, the man didn’t pay any attention to this sudden event. He seemed even amused by it to some extent.
“I see you got yourself-” he glanced quickly towards Touya, who stood right next to you “a dog.”
Already annoyed before by the sheer presence of this man, now you felt your blood boil. WIthout thinking much, you leapt towards him and harshly grabbed the collar of his shirt. You heard someone close-by whisper with a scared voice, but you paid no mind to it.
“Fuck. Off.” You started, accentuating the words and putting as much venom into them, as you could muster. “Go and crawl at their feet like the pathetic nobody that you are.”
You saw a change in his eyes. No longer emotionless, he seemed irritated, which filled you with a bit of sadistic pride. He forcefully pulled your hands away and shoved you back. Then brushed his shirt like nothing happened and, just before turning around and going away said:
“You are the same. Everyone who touches the Olymp is.”
Finally alone with your still-just-a-friend, you turned around to face him. Having brushed off the encounter, you smiled at Touya, first a little fake, but seeing him made you happy enough to be genuine after just barely a second. On the other hand though, he still seemed rather concerned with the strange turn of events. 
“Who was that?”
“He’s a colleague... from work.” Your answer didn’t lessen Touya’s worry. His brows furrowed, while he decided to press a bit more.
“From work? He’s… a hero?”
You stood right in front of him and lifted your arm, putting the thumb between his brows, watching him relax slightly, as you caressed the crease in his skin.
“From before.” It was a diplomatic answer, both a lie and a truth. You knew Touya wasn’t stupid and would get to the truth sooner or later, but for now he seemed to let it go, so you changed the topic. “So, I must ask. Why… a cafe? I would be more inclined to think you’d take me to a boxing ring or something.”
Touya smiled at your teasing tone, but did not answer. He just turned around and started walking towards the entrance of the place. He stopped and held the door for you, still standing next to the tree, a few meters away. 
“You coming?”
You looked at him unamused by his lack of answer, but went inside. It was pretty and cozy, which didn’t match with his more edgy vibe, but you just brushed it off and sat down on a plush armchair in the corner. You put your elbows on the table and propped your head on your palms, looking as Touya took his jacket off and threw it on the back of his chair. You started to closely admire the tattoos adorning both of his arms, from the hands to his shoulders (and even further, as you already knew).
“Both your tattoo and hand kink are showing, baby.” 
He sat down and looked at you with a teasing glint in his beautiful eyes. You leaned back, crossed one of your legs over the other and put your arms up, in a gesture of surrender, but then looked at him accusingly. 
“That’s not my fault that you’re a harlot. You’re basically putting yourself on display for me, so really, it’s on you. You whore.” 
“You got me, but it’s only for you.”
Touya laughed then and stood up to buy you both a coffee. You sat still, waiting and looking around. When your eyes landed on the discarded jacked, you stood up to take it. A simple black jean jacket, quite thin to be suitable for the warm weather. Holding it by the collar, you brought it closer to your face and inhaled the smell of the perfume lingering on the fabric. You couldn’t quite tell what it was, but it wasn’t too strong and you had to admit it was one of the best smells you knew, especially with the mix of natural scent of Touya’s body.
The owner of the jacket came back with the drinks a few minutes later and saw you with the piece of clothing.
“A little thief today, are we?”
You took one last whiff of the jacket and put it down.
“It smells nice. Maybe I should buy this perfume for myself.”
Touya looked up from his coffee.
“You want my perfume?”
“As I said - it’s nice.” You shrugged and saw him smirk.
“I can give you mine if you want to smell like me so badly.”
“Hmm…” You hummed and leaned forward a bit, “Well, I wouldn’t mind smelling like you.”
You took your cup and started to slowly drink, while looking into Touya’s eyes. Something in them made you feel strange, perhaps it was the softness with which he took you in. 
When sunshine fell on him from between the window decorations, he reminded you of some kind of angel, eyes almost glowing, silver piercings glistening; the sun accentuated every little shadow on his face, but, at the same time, made him look really delicate.
Touya’s gaze went down and your thought moved to the back of your mind. He adjusted his position on the chair before speaking.
“I guess I can tell you why the cafe, which you found, oh so surprising, I don’t know why.” He paused for a second to narrow his eyes at you. “I’ve heard you wanted a “normal” date, whatever the hell that means.”
“Wha-,” your eyes widened with mock surprise, “Did Shiggy snitch on me?”
“Please, he didn’t have to. It’s not like you asked all your friends for advice. So I decided to take you somewhere… classic, if you will.”
You crossed your arms on your chest and rolled your arms, then pointed an accusatory finger at your companion.
“Now you’re just mocking me.”
“Me? Never.” Obvious sarcasm on his part. “But I have one more place that I want to take you later. Perhaps more to your standards.”
Now you felt a bit guilty that he might have thought you didn’t like it. He didn’t seem so, but you preferred to explain either way.
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate it… it’s just…” You shrugged. “I didn’t expect something so… usual? Common? Normal, heh.”
“I know you’re just awkward, but let’s relax and enjoy ourselves.”
And so you did, talking about many different things for a few hours.
***
You put your index finger on your lips, pondering on something for a moment.
“Isn’t it going to be, you know… the anniversary soon? Of your mom’s divorce, I mean.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” Touya nodded.
“Damn, happy birthday then.” You brought your cup to your lips like you didn’t just say… that. But Touya lifted his eyebrows and stared at you unsure.
“What?” You just shrugged and he sighed, “Nevermind then. Happy birthday to mom.”
A few seconds of a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. The hushed voices of the people around filled your ears; they mixed together, providing a nice background noise. 
“So… how’s you dad?” You quirked an eyebrow at Touya’s surprised expression.
“You want to talk about my… dad? Of all things?”
“Well… I’m just asking! And you know… since he “sucks ass” does he also eat it?” You smiled stupidly, but he just stared with a deadpan. “Okay, stupid, I admit.”
“We have family therapy, so it’s not that bad. Though, the old mad does deserve the bullying.”
You agreed and made a toast with your drink to Touya’s words.
***
“Excuse me!?” Touya exclaimed loudly, “You did what!?”
You put an index finger to your lips trying to shush him, while a few other people looked in your direction, some with curiosity, others with disapproval.
“It wasn’t that bad…” You looked apologetically at some of the patrons. “It’s not like I died.”
Touya stared at you in shock for a good few seconds, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He was almost at a loss of words.
“What- not like she died! Fuckin-” He groaned and dramatically clutched his shirt on his chest. “You’re killing me! You’re killing your father!”
You snorted at his statement. Well, a flair for the dramatics was in his repertoire, after all.
“Don’t you mean ‘Daddy’?” You said with an amused smile and added with a tinge of irony: “Or do you prefer ‘father’ now?”
Touya did not find it funny (or at least, he didn’t let it show on the outside, if he did). He cupped his mouth with one hand, looking to the side, as to ponder on something.
“You know what?” He directed his gaze at you. “I might have to rethink the idea that dating you would be so nice. Like, you… fucking dumbass.”
Ah, concerned Touya, pretty sweet, you had to admit, but there really wasn’t a reason for him to worry.
“Keigo was with me then.” You stated matter of factly.
“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “I am going to talk with that bastard too… no heroing with Keigo for you!”
You seriously didn’t think that he would be so concerned about the whole ordeal. After all, it was in the past, nothing really happened and if it would have happened, then well… you wouldn’t be here to discuss it.
You smiled softly.
“I don’t think you have any say in this.”
You chuckled, when Touya very aggressively took a sip.
“Jumping off the building… Who fucking does that!?” Oh no, the stare of disapproval.
“Keigo.”
“Because he has WINGS!”
“Yeah, and he caught me because of them!” You paused for a moment and thought for a moment about it. “Though I actually wasn’t sure he would, I mean… you know. He IS quite strong though.”
Touya actually looked like he was ready to end it all right then and there.
“You… didn’t know if he would catch you?” He articulated very slowly, slightly squinting his eyes at you. “And you still jumped?”
“Yup! You know, the adrenaline, fight or flight… I chose flight obviously.” You immediately saw that your cheerful carelessness and (an amazing) joke were nor appreciated, as he looked at you with a blank face, complete deadpan.
“I think, sooner or later, I’m gonna have a heart attack because of you.”
To that, you just cackled and reassured him that you would try not to die in a near future.
***
“Sooo… My sweet Touya, my favorite Todoroki.” He braced himself for whatever you wanted to throw at him, while you shot him a suggestive look. “When are you going to do a new tattoo?”
Oh, he already knew where this was going.
“I don’t know. Why are you asking?” 
“You know…” You acted as if mulling on your idea and tilted your head to the side. “If you need some company…”
Touya sighed and just decided to get to the point.
“Do you wanna go with me?”
“Oh my god, can I?” You grinned and flicked your wrist. “You don’t have to!”
“Ok, then I’ll go alone.” He checked his phone, feigning disinterest, and took a quick look at you to see the hand still in the air and a very surprised expression on your face, that turned almost offended a second later.
“You can’t take it away from me! I’ll have you know, I have my rights.”
“I’m not taking anything away, since I never before said that you could go with me. You just always do.”
“Oh.” You looked down at your knees and did a fake sniff, knowing fully well he didn’t mind your presence… anywhere, really. “You don’t want me there?”
“Well, that-” he smirked slightly, “I never said.”
“So you’re just making a fool out of me then, I see how it is.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. He just laughed
“You already do it yourself pretty well.”
You gasped loudly with a hand on your chest.
“The audacity! You… how dare you! If you’re gonna be bitchy, I’ll fuck your sister, I will. Don’t try me.”
Touya rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Will you though?” He seemed unconvinced, you wondered why. “Honestly, I thought you did it already. You were going out with her for what? Two months? That’s long… for your standard.”
“Nooo, I didn’t… really, I did not.” Then a different thought popped up in your head. “Won’t it be weird that IF we… become a couple, potentially, and I would, hypothetically, meet your family somewhere, you know, by chance and all. That I am Fuyumi’s ex, I mean.”
He furrowed his brows to digest your question. 
“You think about that?” He smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “That’s cute of you.”
“BABY STEPS, PLEASE.” You loudly exclaimed, avoiding Touya’s eyes, to which he chuckled.
“Okay, just teasing you, baby.” His gaze softened. “But do you really care about that? What others think?”
“Uh…” you sighed, “I don’t know. Not really? But kind of.”
“It’s okay, baby steps, like you said.”
He leaned forward over the table, took your hand into his and soothingly caressed it with his thumb. Your heartbeat quickened a bit and, surprised at that, you just stared at Touya’s slowly moving finger. Feeling were never easy nor were they particularly good, but it felt so nice.
***
Suddenly you saw a flicker of colorful lights next to you, seeing that the decorations on the window were turned on. Looking out the window, you noticed how dark it became. The street neon lights were illuminated everywhere, people moving in all directions to unwind after hard days of work during the week. You were almost shocked at how fast the time went by.
“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”
Touya hummed in agreement and, without saying anything, stood up to pay the bill. Earlier, you almost fought him to split it, but you came to an agreement that another time (“Oh, you already want to go out with me again?”, he teased) you would be the one paying. A moment later he came back, put his jacket on and you both exited the lovely cafe.
“So… where are we going?” You asked after following him in a completely opposite direction, to which you came from earlier that day.
“You’ll see.” 
Ah, so much for getting information out of Mr Todoroki.
With a sigh, you just decided to follow him in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, like it usually tends to be, for which you were grateful. He wasn’t pushy, let you do things at your own pace, so you felt… comfortable.
A moment later you felt him grab your hand and let him intertwine your fingers together. Again, the annoying feeling in your chest reappeared. You would need to get a grip on yourself, if this was to continue. The evening was getting quite chilly so Touya used his quirk to make his palm warmer, but you almost took your hand away. You knew that it was bad for him, especially without his support items, even though he was able to control it, almost to perfection. Before you were able to get away, his skin quickly went back to its natural cooler state with a light squeeze to your hand.
Going through the busy street, you were able to observe people differently than usual. On patrols, you were mostly checking out dark alleyways, some abandoned or suspicious buildings, sometimes sites on the outskirts of the city; being able to, sometimes, take in the lively energy of the crowd was enjoyable.
Touya stopped after turning into some calmer sideroad. He took his hand from yours to grab a helmet and then helped you put it on. 
“We taking your baby for a spin?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm, nice.”
After putting on his own helmet he sat down on the motorcycle, waiting for you to do the same. You noticed a new paint job on the matte black surface of the machine. On the sides were done shining blue flames, very on brand for him. You liked it. 
You sat down behind Touya taking a hold of his waist, when he revved the engine and slowly drove away from the busy part of the city. Expertly maneuvering the streets, soon enough you were driving on the outskirts, where barely anyone was out. You looked at the changing scenery over his shoulder, noting the road you were taking seemed familiar. The trees surrounding you from both sides made the night look a bit unnerving, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. The city was far behind already.
You squeezed him just a tiny bit stronger and put your head on his shoulder, careful not to knock the helmets on each other. Loud howling of the wind and the noise of the engine were a surprisingly calming combination, which you have discovered long ago, the first time Touya took you for a drive.
Finally, the motorcycle slowed down. You passed the old busted metal gate and entered a site surrounded by a tall chain link fence, made from wire much thicker than usual to make it more sturdy. The place was situated on a flat field, a bit away from the trees. You could barely see the outline of the big city from where you were.
The space where he parked was relatively empty, save for an occasional piece of metal or glass laying here and there. The only building was a huge square block, bare walls outside “decorated” only by identical windows with perfectly measured spaces in between them. The inside should be relatively empty. What ought to be there are only some vacated rooms and stairs leading from the ground, through three stories, to the roof.
You got off the motorcycle and took the helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar. Taking a closer look around, you notice a pair of sledgehammers and a can of gasoline next to the gate of the building.
“An abandoned Commission site, huh?” You asked rhetorically, but Touya looked surprised at that.
“How do you know what this place is?” 
You decided to ignore him and just pointed to the items you noticed.
“You planning to kill me here or something?” You said with a smile, looking at him. He quirked an eyebrow and moved to pick up the sledgehammers and offered you one.
“Birdbrain said we can trash this place.” You took the tool weighing it in your hand with ease.
“Of course he did.” You glanced at the gasoline. “Did he also say we can play with fire?”
Touya smirked, lifted his hand towards his face and lighted his pinky finger with blue fire. He then moved the hand more towards you, letting you blow it out.
“With me, it’s always playing with fire.”
“I knew you were an arsonist at heart, Touya.” You chuckled lightly, but your voice quickly died down when you looked at him.
He looked at you with an intensity that instantly hypnotized you to focus only on his eyes, which seemed to glow slightly. The only source of light was the moon and the stars in the sky so you were surrounded by harsh shadows and an occasional speck of moonlight.
The gaze with which he stared at you almost made you uncomfortable, because it seemed like he was able to read every little dirty secret you held deep within. A quick thought, that maybe he actually could read you like that, crossed your mind. 
He moved a step towards you and brought his hand to grip your chin. Not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to feel that he could, if he wanted to. Exciting.
He pulled your face a little, so that his lips were right next to your ear. You felt his hot breath on your skin, when he asked:
“Aren’t you?” 
You felt him move his mouth across your skin, from your ear right to your lips. The grip on your chin lessened as he moved his hand to hold the back of your neck instead. It wasn’t anything new to kiss him, but it felt a lot more intimate this time. No force behind it, no rush, nothing inherently sexual; just softness, an interesting contrast to his intense eyes and touches.
He moved away, just enough to speak up, your noses still touching.
“Come on.” He let go completely and moved to grab the gasoline, before entering the building.
You stood in place a moment longer, rendered speechless and motionless by the emotions you felt. The loud hammering in your chest was almost deafening. Not good, get a fucking grip. Without a word, you followed Touya inside.
After a few moments (when the blood pump finally decided to calm down), you glanced around. As you thought, a big empty space, at least on the ground floor. Since the electricity had been shut off a long time ago, the only light was coming from the moon and your phone flashlight. You went after him towards the stairs to the first floor, where a space was filled a little bit more by the rooms dividing the place.
Touya stopped next to a wall to one of the former offices and put his things down, before taking your phone to light your blank canvas, ready for destruction.
“Swing.” And so you did.
You braced yourself against the floor for stabilization and took a wide swing, from behind your back. The hammer made an impact with the wall and with ease penetrated it to the other side. Forcefully, you teared it out, making the hole two times wider.
Oh, it was so liberating. The destruction and chaos of this place would bring you much pleasure.
With a laugh, you took a next swing, and then another, and another. Both of you went on a rampage, destroying what you could in this deserted place. All of the windows broken (some of them with your fist covered in a rug found somewhere on the ground), the inside walls full of holes, doors ripped out of its hinges. The place filled only with dust, debris, and the laughter and screams of both of you.
After you had enough, you ended up lying on the roof. Touya’s head right next to yours, although upside down, as he laid in the opposite direction.
You stared at the clear night sky, admiring millions of stars visible that night. It was always an otherworldly experience to be able to see them. It made everything seem so insignificant in the comparison to the vastness and beauty of space.
Touya, however, was not looking at the sky. His eyes were focused solely on you. He liked the peace and calm visible on your face. You felt his gaze on the side of your face and turned your head to the side, to also look at him.
You moved your hand to push his hair back. It was always really soft to the touch.
“Your roots are showing.” You said quietly, looking at the white part of his hair. He just hummed with eyes closed, marveling at the soft touch on his head.
Before he could fall asleep here, you took your hand and sat up cross-legged. You turned around to look at him, still lying down and still looking at you.
“Didn’t you want to commit arson?”
He perked up at that and got up, but stopped you, when you moved to do the same.
“Wait a second and don’t move.”
You stayed seated and just observed as Touya took the can and started to pour the gasoline on the roof, away from the stairs, in some kind of pattern. When he finished, he motioned you with his hand to come to him.
Ah, so the gasoline heart then. You weren’t really surprised by it, but still laughed, although more at the weirdly proud expression Touya had on his face.
“It’s really cheesy,” you paused for dramatic effect, “I love it.” 
You kissed him lightly on the cheek, to which he froze for a second. Oh, could it be that this time you were the one to render him speechless? After the initial shock, he beamed at you with his stupidly wide grin that sometimes appeared on his face. Though, after a moment it faltered and he grabbed your upper arm. You could pull away, if you wanted, but you just let him hold you.
“Who was that man today?” This again. He seemed worried, more than anything, which you didn’t like that much, cause he could drill it out of you, if he truly wanted. So you decided to avoid his eye, looking in the other direction.
“I told you already… it’s a colleague from work.”
“You know I don’t buy it.”
“I know, but… it’s the truth.” You looked him straight in the eyes, so he would know that it was not a lie.
“I hope you know you can tell me anything.” You wished you could.
“Give me the matches.” He knew that for that moment that would be it, so he let go of your arm with a sigh and took out a small box out of his pocket.
You took it and moved to the other side of the gasoline heart.
You wiped your teeth with your hand, to which Touya raised his eyebrows, but when you took one match out of the box and lit it directly on your teeth, he did look impressed by your trick.
Touya lit his blue flame and both of you set ablaze the gasoline. The fire traveled from both sides, to meet in the middle and create more green-like color. From behind the flames, you were able to see just his silhouette. A beautiful, although terrifying (to some) imagery. 
When the fire started spreading, you quickly moved to leave this place behind. 
Again on the motorcycle, tightly embracing Touya’s torso, you looked back to stare at the rising flames. Colors mixed with each other, creating a picture any painter would be proud of.
Playing with fire was always thrilling, you just hoped none of you would get burned.
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TAGLIST
@the-fandoms-georgie, @fanworrior, @gingerunicorn13, @theunicornnamedearl, @dabi-sunflower, @anniebromberg, @bakugouswh0r3, @ddsweetie
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zwritestuff · 4 years
Text
Crossing All The Lines (YueKi) - One-shot
A/N: I'm trying to dip my toes in the atla fandom, and I saw that it's yueki week! I wanted to contribute with the cause, so here's a fic combining today's prompts: modern au + song fic. The fic is loosely inspired by Girls like Girls, by Hayley Kiyoko, because i was obssesed with that song wayyyy before I came out as a lesbian. Hope yall like it! Pls do tell me if they feel ooc, I'm still quite new to writing atla. ( @yuekiweek )
Summary: Yue and Suki have been best friends since they were four, and over the years, they chose each other over everyone all over again. 
[Also on AO3!]
***
For as long as they can remember, Suki and Yue have been best friends. They met through Sokka, Yue’s neighbor and son of one of her dad’s friends, when they were just four years old. 
Suki was Sokka’s play-buddy thanks to their mothers, and one day, while they were having one of their usual playdates during the weekend, Arnook came knocking at the door, asking in a very hurried manner if they could watch over Yue while he went to the hospital. Kaya hadn’t asked, but she knew it had to do with Yue’s mother, so she rushed her into the living room where Sokka and Suki were playing.
“Suki, this is Yue, my best friend!” Sokka had said, excitedly waving his arms around and pulling Yue in for a hug. Yue, shy as she always was, had blushed before muttering a “nice to meet you.”
Suki, on the other hand, had stuck up her nose, folded her arms and pouted. “I thought I was your best friend!” She said, indignantly, and Sokka hurried to clarify that she was also her best friend. Suki laughed after a second, saying it was a joke, and greeted Yue with another hug. “Do you wanna play with my dolls? They’re warriors! Just like Kyoshi, you know Kyoshi? I never miss an episode of the Kyoshi Adventures!”
Yue nodded, not talking much at first, but once Suki started to tell her about the intricate plans the evil man, represented by Sokka’s action figure, had to take down the Kyoshi warriors, Yue became a lot more talkative, voicing her concerns for the dolls’ wellbeing.
Sokka complained about being left out, because playing with dolls was “a girls thing”, but ended up participating in their games when Suki offered him to do the voice of the hero that battles with the Kyoshi warriors.
And just like that, they became inseparable.
Their friend group had a few additions over the years, and of course they appreciated Aang’s dumb jokes that only made Katara laugh, Katara’s constant invitation to her swimming competitions, Toph’s tough love, and Zuko’s theater kid antics; but Yue and Suki always chose each other, no matter what the situation was. 
Then they hit their teenage years, and Sokka asks Yue out on a date on a sunny day of Spring. Like a real date. A romantic one.
Yue says yes, and almost immediately after she crashes at Suki’s house and tells her about it. There’s silence for a long second, before Suki speaks.
“I mean, that’s great! But…”
“But?” Yue looks at her expectantly, leaning in ever so slightly.
They’re in Suki’s room, sitting under the window, and it’s starting to be warm enough for the heat to be just a notch unbearable. Or so Yue thinks.
Suki looks at her with a doubtful gaze. “Do you like Sokka? Or did you, y’know, just say yes to not make things awkward,” she asks softly, letting her hand fall on top of Yue’s.
That’s a question Yue wasn’t expecting, certainly; she thinks Sokka is cute, as everyone does, and she’s fond of him in many ways she can’t express with words, and she knows she loves him as a brother—but she hasn’t considered liking him in a romantic way until he asked her out.
So she just shrugs, “I don’t know,” she merely replies, and Suki cocks a brow, asking what she means. Yue shrugs again. “I think I could grow to like him.”
“But you don’t like him, now.” Is more of a statement than a question, but Suki adds the vocal fry nonetheless.
“Not in the way he wants me to, yet,” Yue insists, coming off a little too defensive.
There's an awkward silence hanging for a second too long, and Suki gives Yue's hand a squeeze.
“Just-- just don't hurt him, or yourself, okay?” Suki says, tentatively, carefully. And the emotion in her eyes is one Yue can't quite put a finger on.
Either way, Yue presses her forehead on Suki's shoulder, and brings her hand to her lips, leaving a soft kiss.
“I promise, Su.” 
Suki looks away, and if Yue didn't know better, she'd say her cheeks have a slight pink color. Before she gets a wrong idea ingrained in her brain, she resolves that it’s just the heat.
 ***
 Yue goes on a date with Sokka, and then another one, and another one, and who knows how many dates have they gone on when he finally asks her to be his girlfriend? Not Yue, certainly.
But Suki seems to be counting pretty closely.
“Do you think is it too soon? I mean, it hasn’t been that long,” Yue wonders aloud, laying in her bed with her head hanging upside down from the border.
“Well, it’s been three months, and you’ve been going out like three times a week—I’d say it’s fair enough,” she replies, doing her stretches before she leaves for her Karate class. 
Yue looks at her, surprised. “I didn’t know you were keeping count,” she comments, straightening up her position.
Suki once again evades her gaze, “I’m not.”
“Then why—”
“I gotta go,” Suki cuts her off, suddenly grabbing her backpack. “My mom can’t drive me, I gotta walk, I’ll text you when I’m off.” She walks up to the door, and is about to leave when she turns around, giving Yue one last look. “For what’s worth, I think you made a good decision. You and Sokka seem really happy together.”
Suki leaves the room before Yue can tell her about the awkwardness that pools in her stomach whenever she’s alone with Sokka, the unease she feels when he tries to touch her beyond holding hands, the relief she feels when they have to cancel a date; she knows these aren’t common feelings when you like someone.
She wants to believe there will be a point where she’s comfortable, that maybe her feelings are contradictory because it’s Sokka, her childhood best friend, her soul-brother.
But if that were the case, why does she crave Suki’s touch? Why does she prefer it when they’re by themselves? Why does she feel her heart skip a beat whenever Suki proposes they hang out?
Yue groans. Feelings are too confusing.
 ***
 Sokka and Yue have been a couple for a month when Sokka’s birthday comes around, and like every year he throws a party. 
Well, ‘party’ is too generous—it’s just a get-together with their close friends, food, and music a tad louder than he’s usually allowed to. Sokka insists they all have to be dressed to the nines, because it’s his eighteenth birthday and he’s now a “man.” Suki, Katara and Toph tell him, almost at the same time and with a playful eye-roll, that being eighteen doesn’t make him any less dumb.
“Why can’t you all be nice to me on my own birthday?” He complains, pulling Yue closer to him as she laughs softly, “My girlfriend is ten times better than all of you!”
Suki notices how Yue stiffens ever so slightly before easing into his embrace, albeit reluctantly. She doesn’t say anything, why would she?
So she just sits back and watches.
But the thing is, Suki knows Yue like the back of her hand, and there’s no way she doesn’t pick up on the way she leans away from Sokka whenever she gets the chance, and the smile that doesn’t reach her eyes whenever Sokka tells her he loves her.
Suki just sips on her drink, and when they disappear for what feels like forever and come back looking relieved, she doesn’t say anything. 
Not even when Yue curls up against her side for the rest of the night, and Sokka doesn’t try  to reach for her anymore.
 ***
 The next morning, when Suki goes to visit Yue, the first thing she tells her is that she broke up with Sokka last night. Suki just stares at her, wide-eyed, but it’s not like she didn’t see it coming.
“What? Why?” She asks, baffled, and Yue just shrugs.
“It wasn’t working out,” she says, flatly, like it doesn’t need much explanation. Yue cocks an accusatory brow, poking Suki’s ribs. “Don’t act like you couldn’t tell, Su,” Yue continues, moving closer to Suki. She tucks her legs under her body as Suki scrambles to find an answer in time. 
“But-- Sokka,” it’s the first thing she says, “he really likes you, and everything seemed well yesterday. What went wrong?” Suki frowns, visibly confused, but she can’t say she’s all that sad about their friends’ relationship ending, not really.
Of course, she loves Sokka like any other of his friends, and she’s already making a mental note to check on him once she leaves Yue’s house—but she can’t say she didn’t wish once or twice that Yue would stop forcing herself to like Sokka, to stop recoiling when he tried to touch her and pretend it was all fine. 
And she can’t say she didn’t wish for Yue to like her back ever since they were fourteen.
Yue gives a long sigh before speaking, letting her head fall against the back of the sofa. “Sokka’s great, don’t get me wrong. He was a good boyfriend, best I’ve ever had, actually,” she says with a teasing tone, and Suki gives a dry laugh. She never had any other boyfriend, but whatever. Yue stares into Suki’s eyes, a feeling she can’t quite put a finger on shining in them, and Suki stops breathing for a second when she reaches for her hand. “But he wasn’t you.”
Suki could swear she feels her heart ringing in her ears. She blinks repeatedly, before she actually processes what she just said.
And she laughs awkwardly, because she’s sure her ears are deceiving her, that Yue’s just pranking her and what she said doesn’t actually mean what Suki wants it to mean. But when Yue doesn’t laugh along, Suki blushes furiously.
“Suki,” Yue goes on, giving Suki’s hand a slight squeeze. “Sokka and I ended things because he knew that, while I loved him platonically, he would never be able to compete with--with what I feel for you.” Her voice is soft and low, filled with sweetness and adoration.
Suki licks her lips, sucking in a sharp breath as her heart aches with fondness.
“Did you have to break up with him on his birthday, though?” Suki inquires, a shit eating grin taking over her face. Yue scrunches up her nose, nestling against Suki’s chest, hiding her face.
“Don’t remind me!” She screeches with embarrassment, “I wish it could’ve been later, but Sokka was getting suspicious, and it really didn’t help that you and I are attached at the hip. He said he knew, in some way, but he wanted to give it a try instead of regretting having never tried it.” Yue shrugs, fidgeting with her hair, and Suki chuckles. Yeah, that sounds like Sokka.
There’s an awkward silence hanging for a little too long, heavy with lingering words and stolen glances, until Suki breaks it. 
“So, I think this is the moment where I ask you out on a date, isn’t it?” She tentatively says, and the smile Yue gives her in return makes her heart speed up.
Yue doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even give her as much of a nod when she closes the space between them in a kiss. Suki sigh happily against her lips, thinking that she’s been waiting for this for a long time.
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Note
Okay so I have an oc names is Arbany her quirk is indestructible wings and telekinesis and I would like u to do her x Bakugo where they fight and he say something that hurts her feelings and she later has a fight with some villains and almost die and whatever else u wanna add but an happy ending if that’s not too much for you I don’t wanna stress u out and if u don’t wanna do it it’s fine or if you have an better idea I will gladly take that thank u so much again I love you work take care 💕💕💕
A/N : omggg tysm for requesting and you’re so sweet ahhhh!! It actually means the world to me!
Apologises if she’s ooc, I’m not really sure what her personality is like.
Bakugou x oc
Warnings : violence/fighting, swearing
Words : 3,800
Masterlist 
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Arbany had met Bakugou during the June of their first year in high school, meeting each other for the first time when her school Shiketsu High bumped into his. The impression they left on each other wasn’t the best. She remembered him as the foul mouthed, egoistic boy with a superiority complex, and he saw her as a good for nothing brat with one too many words and nothing but a dumb set of wings.
She had managed to knock him off his pedestal after she received her hero licence before he had and it sparked rivalry of sorts, Bakugou vowing that he would never lose to her again. They had stayed in contact after Kirishima asked for her number, adding her to a group chat with himself, Bakugou and a few more of their friends.
Soon, unbeknown to any of their other mutual friends, they had began to text privately, and she often found herself rushing to the phone whenever his special notification sounded. They would often take about modern day affairs, the latest updates on well known heroes and villains, and sometimes they would open up and talk about themselves, asking each other for advice on certain things or how their day went.
It wasn’t long before Arbany found herself developing a massive crush on him. Sure his attitude was brash and unnecessarily rude, but that didn’t mean he was a terrible person, in fact he did care a lot, and she supposed he just tried hard not show it for some odd reason or another.
They would meet up regularly, normally at places that were a few train stations away from their houses. The distance between their schools wasn’t incredibly big, but it did take at least an hour to get to one place from another, so they compromised with spots in the middle. On specials occasions, when it was their birthdays or a pubic holiday, one would wait by the school gates of the other.
This led to their classmates noticing and hence teasing them about each other. On Arbany’s side, her face would flush, ears light pink as her friends made comments about shipping them whereas on the other side of town, Bakugou would scream threats as his friends laughed.
Eventually, they started dating. It was a few weeks into the second year and Bakugou had asked her out during a picnic in a field with a wreath of fresh flowers that he had hidden in his backpack and a necklace. It was cheesy, and he was embarrassed the entire time, his cheeks dusted with red, letting out small curses every now as then, but he decided the massive smile on who was now his girlfriend’s face was worth him putting down his ego and taking the first step.
In the following autumn, Arbany had transferred into his school for the last year, after her parents moved for their jobs, she decided to finish off her second year at Shiketsu before joining her parents closer to UA. She was understandably upset at leaving behind her good friends, however being with her boyfriend of nearly a year and also his friends, who she was pretty close to as well, helped cheer her up significantly.  
“Arbany!” Mina called, waving her over to the side of the gym. She walked over, pulling on her sports jumper as Aizawa began telling them of today’s training lesson. It was a 1v1 spar with no quirks and he gave everyone the choice to choose a partner.
“Are you going to spar Bakugou?” Mina asked.
Arbany started, “Possibly I-” before cutting herself off as she watched the blonde stomp towards Midoriya.
“Fight me Deku.” he shouted.
She laughed slightly, shaking her head before turning back to Mina. “I think I’ll choose someone I rarely train with.” she said, to which the latter nodded.
“Alright, you better not loose!” she cheered before walking off. Arbany looked around, catching sight of Todoroki standing alone.
“Hey Todoroki!” she called out, smiling as he turned around. “Would you like to be my partner?”
He nodded politely, before the pair began walking to an empty marked area of the hall. Her physical skill was only a few hairs short of Todoroki’s, him often catching to smallest openings and attacking. She stepped back in a wide stance, bringing her leg up which he blocked, before jumping up and swinging the other leg. He dodged, stepping backwards as she swung up, about to land a punch when a sudden large explosion sounded.
“The hell?” she jumped back, whipping her head around to see a large charred dent in the floor of the hall.
“Bakugou! This is a no quirk exercise.” Aizawa shouted, using his scarf to hold the younger boy back from continuing to attack Midoriya. “Are you alright Midoriya?”
She felt a small pang of guilt. Maybe if she had spotted Bakugou’s increasing anger towards the other boy, then she could have possibly prevented this. Maybe she should’ve payed more attention to her own boyfriend.
“I’ll take him to nurse’s office.” she offered, walking towards the boy and pulling on his arm.
“It’s alright I’m fine.” Midoriya protested, shaking his head but she tugged on his arm again and he followed without much more complaint. In the background she could hear Bakugou screaming at her to leave the damn nerd alone but she simply ignored him.
After leaving the hall, she slowed down her pace, letting go of his arm. “I’m sorry about Katsuki, I’m not sure why he even thought something like that would be acceptable.” she sighed, rubbing her forehead as Midoriya awkwardly chuckled.
“It’s not your fault don’t worry.” he reassured her.
“No it’s not.” she huffed out frustrated, “but maybe I could’ve talked him out of pulling something like this.”
Midoriya shook his head. “I think we need to sort it out between ourselves.” he said. “There’s no need to blame yourself Arbany.”
She nodded and sighed, stepping into the nurse’s office after him and looking around for any burn ailments.
Bakugou was seething. He detested the thought of his girlfriend together with the only person on earth that he utterly loathed. As soon as class ended, he rushed off to find Arbany, spotting her near their classroom and pulling her to the side.
“Why are you hanging out with the damn Deku.” Bakugou asked.
She sighed, grimacing. “I was not ‘hanging out’ with him, I went to treat him for a burn that you caused.” she answered, pointing a figure to his chest.
“He could’ve easily taken care of that himself.” he muttered.
“No Katsuki. He could’ve easily not been hurt at all if you just learn how to grow up.”
He could feel himself shaking with anger as he clenched his fists. “What the fuck do you mean I need to grow up.”
“Katsuki you are literally an adult next year, stop acting like a child towards someone who literally hasn't done anything to deserve this hate.”
“So you’re defending him now?”
“Yes! Yes I am because I think you’re being utterly unreasonable.”
“I don’t get you. You’re my girlfriend and yet-”
“Exactly! I’m your girlfriend and you should listen to me when I tell you what you’re doing something wrong. I care about you and that’s exactly why I’m not going to condone this behaviour.”
“But he’s just a fucking loser-” He stopped shouting to hold his head with his hand, rubbing his temple. “Look, I didn’t pull you over for a fight.”
“Well I’m not sure what you expected pulling a stunt like that.”
“Look I can explain-”
“You literally attempted to kill him. For what reason? Because he’s your rival?”
“No because-”
The sound of a phone ringing cut him off. “Hold on, let me take this.” she said, side stepping away and bringing the phone up to her ear.
“Hello? Arbany speaking.”
“Hello Arbany, you are being requested for a case.”
“Alright, I’m coming right now.”
“Mirio is waiting for you at the front gates.”
“Thank you.” she said before hanging up the phone, turning around. “Listen I’ve got a job now, but don’t you dare think this conversation is over Bakugou Katsuki.”
“Wait- Arbany!”
She ignored him, rushing off back to the classroom to gather her bag before running down the hallway and stairs. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, telling herself to stay calm as she slowly counted to 10 before regaining her composure. “You’re okay Arbany, you can do this.” she said to herself, pushing open the main doors and quickly walking to the school’s front gate.
“Mirio!” she called out, a smile plastered on her face as she threw her bag in the back seat and climbed into the passenger’s seat.
“Hey Arbany.” he replied, throwing her and earpiece before starting the engine and speeding down the road as she put on her seat belt, catching herself with her hand as the car lurched forward.
“Woah, slow down or you’re going to hit someone.” she laughed, securing the piece around her ear.
“I’ll be careful, but today’s job is really urgent.” he said, and she grimaced at the lack of a single hint of humour in his voice.
“Well that sucks, who is it?”
“The League again.” he sighed.
“Seriously? I’ve never met them before.” she answered, a pang of excitement hitting her as she was finally going to face the area’s most infamous villains.
“Really? They’ve been all over your class since first year.”
“Oh damn. I transferred this year so I guess I missed all of the fun stuff.” she answered.
“Well, I wouldn’t say fun.” he replied with a small laugh. “Your boyfriend did end up kidnapped for a good few days.”
She huffed at the word boyfriend and this caused Mirio to loosen up and actually laugh for one time in their journey. His usual upbeat self was incredibly tense and Arbany noticed as soon as she heard his less than enthusiastic greeting. “What did he do this time?”
“Arh.” She put her head in her hands before looking back up and staring at the traffic light. “I don’t even know, he just acts like a child like oh my fucking god Katsuki you’re turning 18 next year and you’re still trying to kill this poor bean over some childhood superiority complex.” she ranted, throwing her hands up in the air, hitting the car’s ceiling by accident.
“That sounds like him.” Mirio laughed, turning the corner, them both now spotting a massive colour of smoke.
“Well shit.” she cursed, tightening her grip on her seat belt as she saw a few people running away from the general direction. “Care to brief me in on which fucker might have done this?”
“Most likely Dabi.” he replied. “He’s the most active member who has a fire quirk. Just a warning, they may possibly have nomus.”
He pulled over to the side of the road, a sticker on his car’s windscreen showing that he was okay to do what would have otherwise been illegal parking. She got out of the car, running towards the scene. “Damn I don’t even have my hero suit on.” she complained under her breath, jumping into the air and with a flap of her wings she was above, looking down towards the scene.
“[hero name] here reporting for duty.” she called out after turning the ear piece on.
“Alright Arbany, your job is to make sure all civilians are out of the area.”
“Understood.” she answered, starting by doing a massive lap around the burning building with her wings. Spotting a pair walking towards it’s general direction, she swooped down and guided them to another route, before flying back up.
Getting closer to the building her eye caught sight on a fairly unburnt rooming, severely out of place considering the entire building was up in roaring flames and smoke. She slowly made her way to, realising a fairly young woman had been using her quirk to fireproof the room, but visibly growing tired. Arbany banged harshly on the window, getting no response as the woman remained leaning against her bed, almost motionless apart from the slight turn of her head, her eyes widening at the fact that someone had noticed her.
Arbany landed on the balcony, stepping back before swinging her leg up and shattering the window. She reached inside and unlatched the door, walking in hurriedly and placing her hands underneath the woman’s knees and back.
“Are you alright miss?” she asked, lifting her up and exiting the building.
She closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “Thank you...”
“It’s alright.” Arbany replied, dropping to the ground at the sight of an ambulance, passing the woman over to a health worker. “Have some rest.” she said before jumping back into the air.
Before she could even travel another few feet, something at an incredible speed knocked into her from behind, sending her shooting down into the ground. “Fuck!” she screamed, wrapping her wings around her as she plummeted into the concrete.
“Arbany? Are you alright?” her ear piece sounded.
“Oh my fucking god.” she cried out, standing back up with a wobble and turning to see a massive lump of muscle and flesh flying in the sky. “Holy shit that thing is ugly.” she snorted, rolling back her shoulders to ease the tension as she most likely had to face that thing.
“That’s a nomu. Try not to engage in contact.”
“I think it’s a bit too late for that.” she responded as it started flying down towards her at a rapid speed.
“We’re sending another pro hero your way. Stay on your toes until then.”
“Alright.” she answered, focusing her mind on the incoming nomu and trying to stop it with her telekinesis. It slowed down considerably, no longer a blur in the sky, however she knew that once it reached her, even with a swing of it’s arm, she would be toast.
She couldn’t take her eyes off it otherwise he telekinesis would cease to work, so slowly she flew back into the air. The nomu changed it’s direction of path and sped towards her. She watched it intently as it grew closer and closer and by the time it was arms distance, she forced all of her energy onto it. It slowed down even more, and with that, she flew up, waiting for it be directly underneath her, before hardening her wings and burying them into it’s muscles as knifes.
It let out an ear piercing howl and with that she focused her telekinesis onto her leg, giving it extra as she stomped downwards on the nomu’s body. It started falling almost instantly, yet in that minuscule time frame, it had grabbed onto her ankle, pulling her down as well. With a shift of it’s body, it launched Arbany down towards the ground with it’s immense strength.
“Fuck.” she screamed. Her wings couldn’t catch any updraft of air so she resorted to encasing herself in her wings again. She hit the ground with a massive crash, the things around her becoming debris as she lay still in the dent in the ground.
In the quick seconds this had all occurred, she had forgotten to unharden her wings. She groaned in frustration at her stupidity as she felt an overwhelming pain in her side.
“Well fuck I might be out of commission soon.” she announced, roughly pulling out one of her feathers out of her side and tying her clothes tightly around the wound.
“You can stop Arbany, Endeavour has made it to your area.”
“I’m gonna keep helping until I can’t move anymore.” she muttered, standing up slowly as she winced at her side wound. She fell in pain as she stretched out her wings. Her wings were indestructible yes, the bones in them could never break, however that didn’t mean the rest of her body was too. The muscles connecting her wings to her back had been severely injured in the fall.
She felt utterly useless. She was a combat hero as much as a rescue one but she had essentially failed at both tasks. She watched as the nomu burned up in flames, still rushing towards Endeavour in a rage. With the last part of her energy, she focused and stopped most of it’s movements, and he sent another fire attack it’s way. With it unable to dodge or even shake out the flames, it slowly burnt up. She guessed this one was the regenerative type the others had encountered before.
With a small nod, satisfied at her help, she leaned against a wall and said “Alright well I’m gonna take a quick nap.”
“Arbany you are still in the battlefield, open your eyes right now!” She winced at the shouting in her ear and grumbled.
“Fine fine, I’m leaving.” she slowly started limping away, her hand on the wall to steady her and she made her way back to the main road. Spotting the ambulance again she stood up straight to walk over, missing the curb and falling flat on her face.
She felt fatigue wash over her as she rested her head on the concrete. Her head was spinning uncontrollably and she closed her eyes shut, hearing people running over to her as she slowly faded away.
~~~
“Kacchan I’m guessing you’re going to visit Arbany right now?” Midoriya asked as Bakugou strolled into the kitchen.
“What?” he scowled, turning his attention to the other boy with a glare.
“Wait you haven’t heard?”
“Do I look like I have Deku? Fucking spit it out already.”
“R-right, Arbany’s in hopsital after the villain attack by the-”
“Are you fucking with me Deku? I swear to god.”
“N-no I’m not!” he quickly answered, shaking his head before getting out his phone and turning to the most recent screenshot. “It’s on the news.”
Bakugou snatched the phone off him, his eyes squinted as he hurriedly read the small test. “Fuck.” he said, tossing the phone back to him absentmindedly as he rushed out of the kitchen, grabbing someone’s random jacket that was rested on the couch before running out of the door.
He sprinted all the way to the front gate, propelling himself with his quirk. He stopped at a main road, waving down a taxi aggressively before jumping inside and demanding they go to the nearest hospital. He tapped his feet impatiently as the drive there felt so agonisingly long. His eye watched digital distance measurer and calculator, pulling out what he assumed to be more than enough cash.
“Just park here.” he demanded as the hospital came into view.
“Sir I can’t-”
“Just fucking park here.” he shouted, the timid guy agreeing and stopping the car. He slammed the cash onto the dashboard before bolting out.
“Sir your change.” the driver called out.
“Keep it for all I care.” he shouted back, not sparing another glance as he ran into the hospital, knocking into a few people and almost colliding with a few more.
“Arbany. Arbany [L/N]” he said at the front desk as he almost started shouting at the receptionist for how slow he felt she was going.
“Second floor, room 214.” she said and he nodded, rushing to the elevators.
“Please refrain from running in here.” she called out from behind him. “This is a hospital, not a playground.”
He disregarded her words, pressing the up button multiple times, watching the floors come down to the ground, stepping in and pressing the 2. He soon reached her room, knocking before entering. She sat up on the bed, grimacing slightly as her side throbbed.
“Fucking hell, what were you thinking.” he said, sitting down next to her. His words were harsh but she could hear the genuine worry in them.
“Funny thing right, I did this to myself.” she chuckled, pouting when he didn’t show any reaction to her lightheartedness expect sighing.
“You idiot. Do you know how worried I was when I heard that. And if was from that nobody Deku as well.” he rubbed his eyes, his lips drawn up in a tight grimace.
She kissed her teeth. “Yeah, we’ve got to sort out what problem you have with Midoriya.”
“Fuck that brat, don’t think you can just change the conversation topic. What the fuck were you doing out there to get you landed in this bloody hell.” he threw his hands up, but his tone remained worried, making sure not to raise his voice at her.
“I’m a hero Katsuki, of course there are going to be injuries now and then.” she reasoned.
“I know.” he breathed out. He knew too that it was inevitable. They were both aiming to be pro hero and such a path like that wouldn’t be smooth sailing. “I know, I just...”
She stayed silent, not rushing him to go on as she wrapped her fingers around his. He clasped her hand in both of his, bringing them up to his head as he looked down at the bed. “I was scared.” he whispered.
Her heart melted at his words. It was almost never that someone like Bakugou would put down his pride to admit something like that. She reached over with her other hand, stroking his hair as he continued. “They wrote about you as if you were in some life threatening condition.”
She giggled. “That’s the media for you.”
“I, I thought I might lose you.” he said. She felt him shaking and pulled him towards her, wrapping her arm around him.
“I’m not going to leave you, you dummy.” she assured him. “I promise.”
He pulled back, flicking her on the forehead. “You better, otherwise I’m gonna follow you to hell and beat your ass.”
“Hey!” she pouted. “Who says I’d end up in hell anyways.”
“Pfft, and you’re going to heaven then?”
“Yes!”
“In your dreams.” he snorted.
She laughed at him before they fell into a silence, fiddling with his fingers as he simply just stared her.
“What’s up sweatpea?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and trying to read his expression.
“I love you dumbass.”
“Ew gross.” she laughed as he glared at her. “I’m just joking, ow! Don’t hit me I’m injured.”
Leaning back on the bed and away from him, she stuck her tongue out. “Say it back.” he demanded.
She squinted her eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re not the injured one Katsuki?”
He huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine then. Be like that.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding oh my god.” she rolled her eyes, leaning forwards to peck him on the lips.
“I love you too, you baby.”
If it wasn’t for her being injured, he might have blown her to pieces in sheer embarrassment.
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liamtsullivan · 4 years
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-- && guests may mistake me as ( andy biersack ), but really i am ( liam sullivan + cis male + he/him ) and my DOB is ( 12/28/93 ). i am applying for the ( banquet manager ) position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite ( #203 ). i should be hired because i am ( + loyal, charismatic, driven ), but i can also be ( - distracted, opinionated, pushy ) at times. personally, i like to ( watch documentaries, play poker, get tattoos ) when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work. thank you for your consideration!
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ooc;; it’s ya girl kay again, i’m so so sorry adfjlaksfj. this is liam, he’s a brain baby of mine that i played a little while ago and he’s been haunting me since i stopped playing him so here he is to be a part of y’all’s lives. hopefully you dig him, if not......... well that’s fine, too. can’t make you do anything, i’m not your mom unless you’re card; go to your room, card.
TW’s: Mentions of prostitution. Abortion. Drug use, drug addiction, drug overdose, & drug related death.
fast facts / personality details;;
( i put these first this time because the background is A Lot on this one okay )
has a rather protective and care-giving nature mixed in with his excellent work ethic and drive.
loves when guests ask for the manager and he gets to come out and see how much they didn’t expect the manager to be a 6′4″ beanpole with neck tattoos.
lives by the ideal “put your money where your mouth is” ; also just like, be genuine and up front with him in general, like he’s not an asshole, but also he knows how to deal with assholes, so let that be said
has a five year old german shepherd named Roxy that he rescued from shelter overflow when she was only a six month old puppy; Roxy still thinks that she is a small lap dog despite being a Big Girl
still wears the ring that his mom gave him for his eighteenth birthday every day, despite the issues that they had, and despite her being gone now.
has his nose pierced and his lip pierced, though the lip ring he takes out for stretches of time; the nose ring is always in, though.
absolutely covered in tattoos, in case that wasn’t already painfully obvious. he loves getting them and yes, still has room for more, will continue to get them probably forever.
prefers brown liquor over pretty much any other alcohol, though he’s not opposed to a good draft every once in a while
listens to more classical music than anyone would ever probably expect of him; that being said he also listens to a lot of classic rock and, naturally, a dose of pop punk, too, for fun.
he likes listening to true crime podcasts and watching various true crime / serial killer documentaries; criminal minds is also his favorite show. so like don’t piss him off, i guess ajdkfljasdklf
smokes cigarettes like he’s a motherfucking chimney; says he’s working on quitting, has yet to actually start that process.
generally just a supportive person; if Liam cares about you in any capacity - even if it’s just because you work together - you’ll know it. he likes to help the people around him, try to steer them in the right direction, offer them advice.
he’s not a shy person, in fact he’s rather social, and while there’s a dry humored joke or a sarcastic toy here and there, he’s a pretty genuinely nice dude. despite the things that he’s seen and been through in his life, he’s worked really hard to stay optimistic, and driven throughout and so far he’s been very successful at that.
dresses rather nice / got that business casual look down with the short-sleeved button ups or the long-sleeved ones with the sleeves rolled for work purposes. however, outside of work it's like a cat and his wardrobe were in a trash bag together. lots of black, and dark earthy colors, too. the duality of man.
background / life story;;
Liam Travis Sullivan was born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada, where his mother, Stephanie Sullivan, was an escort / call girl on The Strip.
Stephanie getting pregnant was a tremendous ‘oops,’ but she kept the baby anyway. The baby’s father was a client who had a wife and kids already, so he paid Stephanie a whole lot of money to stay quiet and out of contact with him. This money allowed for her to take time off from working to be able to have Liam and take care of him for a bit.
Liam really was Stephanie’s whole world once he was born; the best thing that she ever did, as she so often told him through the years.
Liam never knew his father, but he put two and two together once he was old enough to understand what it was that his mom did.
Liam was three years old when Stephanie finally returned to working on The Strip. He was left in the care of some of Steph’s other ‘working girl’ friends on the nights she happened to be working.
He got very accustomed to spending his time around females, having a heavy female influence in his life as he grew up -whether that particular female influence was always the best or not. It led to his respect for women, though, and his ability to feel very comfortable around them, even from a young age.
When Liam was six years old, Stephanie ended up pregnant again. However, this time she ended up actually having an abortion. Liam only knew about it because his mother rambled about it to him in an overemotional drunken state. She told him that “he was her good boy and all that she needed.”
Working The Strip -as notorious a place as it was- and making the money that she did left Steph open to a lot of drinking and drug use.
At eight years old, Liam found a stash of his mother’s cocaine in their bathroom. This earned a distressed meltdown from Steph about him staying away from that sort of stuff because it was bad. Though, as a developing child gaining understanding of the world around him, that proved to confuse Liam because he didn’t understand why his mommy had it and was doing it if it were so bad.
Liam was ten years old the first time that his mom overdosed. This instance just involved going to the hospital to get her stomach pumped and spend the night on a fluid IV, but it was still terrifying for the boy at the time.
Stephanie struggled with drug abuse for most of Liam’s life. Living where they did facilitated it so easily and also made any getting caught up in the law with it rare -it was Vegas, after all, not to mention Stephanie was in sex work, so the law wasn't always looking out for her anyway.
Right before Liam was about to start high school, the young teenager -already having had to do so much growing up so early and so fast- took it upon himself to give his mother an intervention of sorts. He told her that if she was going to keep taking time with her away from him that he was going to run away, figure life, out himself, even if he did end up in the foster system or something. He pleaded with her that he didn’t want to lose her, that he wanted her there for all the things his life could still have in store for him. Ultimately, after many tears and a lot of convincing, Steph let her fourteen year old son flush her drug stash and they made a very rushed plan to finally get out of Vegas.
Moving to California was really good for the both of them for a while. Being in a new place meant starting fresh, moving forward. Stephanie didn’t know anyone she could get drugs from; between that, the support of her son, and finding help at local NA meetings, she managed through the withdrawal and the struggling. She got a stable, more normal job, working at a sports bar -bartending and waiting tables.
Liam easily adjusted to the change of environment. He practically thrived in Los Angeles. Before he knew it, he had friends, got into playing football at his high school, was losing his virginity. Fast-paced and unconventional were ways that Liam was used to living his life, so getting into things like physical relationships with girls, despite how young he was in reality, felt normal to him in all his adjusting.
Things stayed going really well for pretty much the whole first year they were in LA. Liam did well in school, got a part time job to help his mom out. Steph ended up picking up a second job to stay busy and keep money coming in. They were good, they were better than they had been, and they had each other.
The summer before Liam’s junior year of high school, he caught his mom using again. Evidently it had been going on for a few months already at that point, and because of how busy he was with school, friends, and work, he had caught on late. Stephanie argued with him on the matter, told him that it wasn’t his business to worry about, among other unexpectedly harsh things. It was the first real, legitimate fight he ever really had with his mom, at least the first one that really mattered.
With too much riding on his focus on school and football -given he had since come up with the goal to go to a good college, to make something of himself and do good things- Liam shut himself off from his mom for a little while. They lived together, came and went about their lives, but they spoke minimally, Liam didn’t fight more with her despite knowing that she was still using at the time. It was very odd for him, to have any sort of bad energy between him and his mom -it was so rare, it had always been just the two of them. He decided, though, that he had to focus on himself and his future.
Senior year came with the promise of scholarships, multiple college scouts having their eyes on him, more than one girl interested in dating him, a wide friend circle, a basic car he had been able to buy for himself, and a growing savings account. Liam was doing great, he was on the right track, focused. Stephanie, however, had downward spiraled. Her using had gotten out of hand to the point of losing both of her jobs, having to get a new one in a setting that was dangerously close to the things she had been doing in Vegas -a strip club.
It wasn’t until Liam’s Winter Formal that year -Stephanie deep into her continued cocaine addiction- that something changed. He was in his suit, getting ready to leave to go pick up his date when his path crossed with Stephanie’s. Upon finding out where her son was heading, who he was going with, the friends he was meeting -details she hadn’t been knowledgeable on for some time at this point- the woman burst into tears. She sobbed apologies to her son, begged him to forgive her for missing out on his life, made promises to him that she would get better for him -promises Liam tried not to take to heart; he had learned.
They did get Stephanie into a rehabilitation clinic shortly after the holidays. She had to sober up a little bit and once again Liam shouldered the responsibility of getting rid of the drugs that she had in their apartment. He spent two months alone in their apartment while his mom worked through her issues, sobered up fully, came back to him. It was an exhausting couple of months for him, trying to be a self sufficient adult in an apartment that had to have things paid for in it, while also juggling school and football, but he managed.
Stephanie came home a different woman than she left, and upon getting a more functional version of his mother back, Liam had the tiniest glint of hope that maybe things would be okay again. Graduation was looming, and he had a few different schools that were more than willing to offer him full ride football scholarships to their universities. Notre Dame, Duke, UCLA, among other state-based colleges all had eyes on him. It was something he could finally talk to his mom about.
While Stephanie encouraged him to follow his heart, follow wherever his dreams were gonna take him, Liam couldn’t shake the idea of being far from home -or, in particular, being far from where she was. Things were so fragile with her and her addiction, it was so much more possible for something bad to happen and him to have absolutely no idea about it if he went far away. So despite the incredible opportunities he could have had elsewhere, he chose to accept to scholarship from UCLA out of all the schools who chose him.
Going to college, let alone such a prestigious and well known state school like UCLA was like something out of a fairytale for Liam. Looking back on what his life had been up to the point of graduating high school and moving on to bigger things, he was amazed at what he had accomplished. Given the healthy and sober way that his mother still was at the time of his high school graduation, she, too, made it a point to make sure he knew how amazed and proud she was of him.
College wasn’t quite as easy for him as high school was, but that just drove Liam to work even harder. He wasn’t going to waste the opportunity he was given. He was double majoring in business and marketing; even though he had little idea what sort of business he wanted to be a part of, he knew that he wanted something for himself, something that could do good, give back in some way shape or form. Those subjects would do a lot to help him get there, he knew that much.
Stephanie stayed sober for most of Liam’s college experience, after the help of going to rehab, and the continued going to NA meetings. He popped back to the apartment every now and again -having moved into campus living during the semesters- and that helped her, too. Things seemed really good for quite some time, but having the other shoe drop once again unfortunately didn’t come as too terribly much of a shock to Liam. She had been getting involved with some guy she knew from work, they’d been sleeping together, and what Liam didn’t know is that they frequently went out for drinks. Drinking slowly but surely progressed into getting high together; something easy for Stephanie to fall into, particularly because of her habit, but also because of the familiarity of the circumstances -it was awfully similar to when she was working on The Strip and would get wasted with clients.
Liam was in his last semester of college, just about three months shy of graduating with his bachelor’s degree. It was a huge deal for him, it was something that he wasn’t going to give up for anything in the world. Still, he made it a point to help his mother after she called him absolutely high out of her mind and apologizing to him while he was pulling an all-nighter on an assignment one night. He didn’t ask many questions, just the basics, and he looked into a place himself -a rehab center that was further away, lengthier and more in depth with their programs. Before, they had gone with what was convenient, facility-wise, but he wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. If his mother needed more special attention, he was going to get her to that.
Getting his degree was a gift, a blessing he in reality never thought would be his. While his mom was still in rehab at the time of his graduation -Liam insisted that she not leave treatment just to come to the ceremony- she still wrote to him consistently, sent him a congratulations card right around the day of the ceremony. Liam was in a position in his life that awed him in a way, ready to take on the world.
Pursuing the concept of his own business sort of took a back seat; having just gotten his degree, it wasn't like Liam could immediately leap into much, not to mention he didn't have the funds. He had been working and saving all through college - served, cooked, and bartended at a grand total of six different restaurants in Los Angeles by the time he graduated - but on top of any business itself being expensive, school itself was expensive, too.
By the time Liam was twenty-four years old, he was managing two bars, and co-managing a restaurant out in Los Angeles. He was living on his own, keeping tabs on his mother sporadically, but mostly working toward a goal for a business of his own. He was teetering between a pub of sorts, or a burlesque club - two wildly different ideas, but both with the same idea in mind; somewhere entertaining but somewhere that also provided a sense of community, somewhere he could give jobs to people that needed them - perhaps that was inclined to women, from his subconscious protection of his mother, but that was beside the point.
A coworker of his at one of the bars he was the bar manager of ended up being who presented a move out of Los Angeles to him. There was potentially more business opportunity somewhere out of that location, out of the state of California, even. Chicago was brought to the table, this friend having heard of a program that offered employee housing at a luxury hotel. Liam was apprehensive about the Malnati at first, given he didn't want to have to start on a bottom rung in terms of his job once again. As it turned out, however, there was a management position that was generally up his alley. Seeking opportunity and further growth wherever he could find it, Liam made the move to Chicago.
Things between him and his mom had been more distant over the year since he graduated college, and in his move to Chicago, he couldn't say he was surprised to end up hearing about things getting bad again for his mom. It was a moment of true growing up for Liam, realizing that he had to be responsible for himself, he had to do what he needed to do, he couldn't carry his mom anymore. If she didn't want to get better and stay better, he couldn't be the one derailing his life to continue to try to make her do so.
That first year of him living in Chicago, working as the banquet manager at the Malnati, his mom overdosed for the last time. It was unexpected in the same way that it wasn't; Liam went through a brief period of a numb sort of grieving - he was of course sad to have lost his mom, to have to come to terms with the fact that he'd never get to see or speak to her again. He also, though, had to face the fact that as dark and upsetting as the circumstances were, they were out of his hand, they were not his responsibility. He mourned his mother as she deserved, and he went on with his life; because deep down he knew that she would want that for him, anyway.
Liam has been living in Chicago and working as the Malnati's banquet manager for the last nearly-three years now. He oversees more than just a restaurant and a bar now, and it's expanded his career experience in ways that he is very thankful for. It's a little bit on the backburner once again, but definitely not forgotten, that he intends to have his own business some day. Perhaps more than one, even. He loves the organization and the hard work and dedication that go into leading - whether that be a kitchen or a bar or an event. He likes to be supportive as much as a leader - Liam wants to see his team succeed; if there's slack that needs to be picked up and he can help, he will. He's not going to bark orders and call it a day, that's not what he's about, that's not what he considers his job. He's got a good head on his shoulders, and a good work ethic, and he likes doing what he does.
wanted connections;;
IT’S TIME ONCE AGAIN FOR ME TO FAIL AT THESE LMFAO
Liam in his job oversees chefs, bartenders, servers, room service runners, and musicians, so like we got a whooooole lineup of connections to be had there; he’s their boss yeah, but as I’ve said like a million times now he’s really active in trying to help his team succeed. he’ll help out on the bar and running food and covering breaks or callouts or whatever, so like there’s a lot of good potential relationships to be had there.
other managers bc we love seniority adfjlkasdfjk no i’m just kidding, but still we love some manager pals why not
idk i think it’d be really funny to have someone who’s like intimidated by him simply because of the way that he looks and he’s like look i’m really not that bad i just like tattoos a lot okay lmAO
a casual hookup here or there is chill; he’s not super into the fwb thing? like he’ll stay friends after a hookup if the other person is cool with it, but as an ongoing thing it just gets too complicated for his liking.
pet parent friends; his girl Roxy is a friendly giant baby and he adores her, bring him some parent friends and her some dog friends
tattoo pals of some variety?? even if it’s just him constantly encouraging people to go get tattoos, or talking them through processes? going with them for moral support because he barely even feels it when he gets tattoos now?? who knows
honestly we been knew i’m up to just talking shit out and winging it a lot of the time too so just hit me up if you wanna figure some stuff out with this inked up beanpole okay? okay ily.
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elenyafinwe · 3 years
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Since @izuna-appreciation-week and @foundersweek are not as secretive as trsb I wanna talk about the ideas I’m working on (and to note them down so that I don’t forget them). Because of that October will be a quiet month concerning posting my stuff (with maybe the exeption of a birthday oneshot for Hashirama, but I’m not sure if I’ll manage to squeeze that in). But in November you’ll get a lot of text ^^ If anything goes according to my plans you get 14/14 texts (and here I am wondering why I don’t get enough sleep).
More infos under the cut.
Izuna Week
Day 1: Kunai/Armor: I went for Armor, text is finished and is about 12yo lil Izuna realizing he’s nb. Technically part of my Butterfly Verse, but canon compliant and can be read on it’s own.
Day 2: Festival/Funeral: Another Butterfly Verse text. It was already mentioned in Butterfly Effect, that Kagami is the son of Touka and Hikaku (my token hets of the founders era, lol), but his parents died. The text is about the funeral and Izuna taking care of mourning Kagami (and ending up adopting the boy). Also finished.
Day 3: Clone Jutsu/Hiraishin: Porn. Just porn. Impropper use of Kage Bunshin, was probably done a thousand times before, but heeeey 😅  (Probably wasn’t a good idea writing this while depression hold me down and me listening to the lotr soundtrack. A wonder that there aren’t any Nazgûl in it.) Finished
Day 4: Rain/Flames: Not really sure about that, but maybe no prompts and Edo Tensei Izuna during 4th Shinobi World War. I have the concept but not a real plot yet. Only that Obito saw, that Kabuto got Madara as Edo Tensei and searched for a way to counter that, because he never fully trusted Kabuto, and thought: “Hey, what about the little terror brother of that old geezer? Definitelly a good idea!” (Spoiler: it is not.)
Day 5: Sci-Fi AU/Steampunk AU: "There is an ocean of silence between us … and I am drowning in it" – Ranata Suzuki
In Krigsgaldr it was mentioned in the last chapter that while visiting the capital Tobirama and Izuna went on a date. So here it is: The date, that Tobirama refuses to name as such. They visit the hanamachi, go to kabuki and beat up some bad boys and at the end of the day Izuna falls in love with Tobirama. Finished
Day 6: Unrequitted Love/Soul Swap AU: Songfic to Selkie by Blackbriar. I planed that for months now and didn’t manage to write it for Mermay. It stays pretty close to the song, so: Tobirama as the selkie and Izuna as the other dude in the video. Not really wholesome because of the nature of the selkie myth. Probaly ooc, but I don’t care.
Day 7: Cuddling/Headache: Maybe both prompts and maybe a kinda epilogue to Butterfly Effect. (This is a spoiler for the end of the text: At the end it’s hinted that the happenings are the beginning point of the First Shinobi World War. Maybe about the outbreak of the war and maybe about the war itself.) But at this point I’m not yet sure, if I wanna write that.
Founders Week
Another round of me filling my Butterfly Verse headcanon.
Day 1: Treaty/Roots: My first thought was very ambicious and use this to write the second part of Roots, but that would be really insane 😅 So I went for treaty instead to play around with another AU idea (but don’t expect me to flash that one out as I do for my Butterfly Verse). I was looking up something in the manga and in the flashback where Obito still cosplays Madara and told Sasuke about Madara and Izuna and their Mangekyou I saw that Madara was quite lightly dressed (the slutty Uchiha look Sasuke as well seems to favor) and I was like: “Goddammit! Cloth yourself properly!” The next thought was: What if he goes to battle like this and Hashirama just stares and that’s the moment Madara realizes, that Hashirama still cares for him in that way and that’s how they end up making love peace. Plus Izuna lives. My lil murder bean has to live!
Day 2: Dream/Mythology: A little lighthearted fun. Remember me talking about Tobirama with cat ears? Another little text for my Butterfly Verse about the first mission of Team Tobirama and Team Izuna. They get to collect some kitties for Granny Nekobaa’s collection and try to solve the “mystery” of Nekobaa being a nekomata or not.
Day 3: AUs/Crossover: I still have my modern AU Ghost of Uchiha, where Madara ends up collecting adopting Obito, Itachi and Sasuke. Would fit in here, but that’s multi chaptered and I’m not sure if I manage to write enough of it in time.
Day 4: Family/Legacy: Both I guess. I have the headcanon that Kakashi and Tobirama are related (it’s the hair). For my canon compliant verse I went with great-grandson (the last chapter of Adamantine is about those two plus Obito), but for my Butterfly verse I decided, that Kakashi is his grandson. So I need a story where Tobiramas becomes dad of Sakumo and this will be the story. (I’m not really satisfied with what I came up so far, it feels quite artificial, but let’s see how it turnes out.)
Day 5: Clan, Generation, Body Swap/Time Travel: Clan, I guess? Rough idea for another Krigsgaldr spin off, the idea didn’t fit much into the last chapter and because I wanted that text to end. It’s about how my otp becomes a ot3 aka Mito joins the chaotic founders squad during the early stages of the village.
Day 6: Jutsu Accident/Edo Tensei: Both again. For Roots I had an idea how and why Tobirama invented Edo Tensei. I still miss that for my Butterfly Verse. Here he invents it by accident, because he simply wanted to talk to Itama and Kawarama again, but accidentially summons them. You can say it’s a ouija board accident, ahem.
Day 7: Magic/Festival: The day Hashirama and Mito marry and Mito becomes the jinchuuruki of Kurama, aka another Butterfly Verse text. Such drama, much destruction, wow.
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Football Fic Writer Profile - Utami (thebluesideofmyworld)
Hello lovely people! We hope that you all are having a great week so far. We meet again in another article, featuring one of the fic writers from the football fandom.
Have we told you before that we felt like there are so many fic writers who were born on February? Here’s another one who was also born on February. On February 14, to be exact.
People, please welcome Utami. And yes, people. It’s her birthday today!
Happy birthday, Utami!
You can find her on her Tumblr ( @thebluesideofmyworld )  where she posts her M/F fics, or you can also go to her AO3 account where she posts her slash fics.
Now let’s refresh our memories about her writing by reading an excerpt from one of her fics
She curled up on her couch, staring at the TV without really looking at it. It was one of her favorite TV shows, yet she could not seem to get excited about it anymore.
Her phone went off. Mats name flashed on the screen. She stared at it for a while, the ringtone sounded so loud, too loud in the living room.
After a while the phone went silent again.
She stared at her phone, thinking that maybe Mats would just be like the other people. Those people who would leave her anyway at the end.
(People always left her anyway. No one wanted to stay with her anyway.)
(Can You Hold Me)
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Utami is originally from Indonesia, but she has been in the US since 2013 to do a postgrad degree in Environmental Engineering. She is currently having a massive crush on Asa Taccone, the vocalist from Electric Guest, and spends her times listening to songs from Troye Sivan and Fall Out Boy while waiting for Voltron S05 to be released. She is a supporter of Manchester City and Real Madrid. Those of you who might have checked her blog out would not be surprised to find that her favorite player is David Silva.
She started writing by writing her thoughts in a diary since she was 8 years old, because she said that it had always been easier for her to express what she felt by writing it. In late 2009, she found a fansite for a talent show in her country where she found some fanfics posted there. Out of curiosity, she tried to post the first chapter of a fic there. She ended up writing more and more for that fandom. She said that even though the fandom faded out slowly after the talent show ended, she would still remember it as her first experience in writing fics.
Writing is something that she enjoys because she said that it’s really a good way for her to express herself. She has always had a wild imagination since she was a kid, probably because she loved reading so much. She often has imaginary scenes and conversations in her head, and writing them out is something she find to be soothing. “Lately, I also try to remember what my therapist once told me, that I should see writing as a self-care method and coping mechanism for me, as I feel through writing, I can be a better version of myself.”
Even though she has been watching football ever since she was a kid, the first time she encountered football fics was in 2012. She read the fics and started wondering whether she could also do one. In December 2012, she decided to give it a try, and her first football fic was about David Silva with an OFC. “I cringed whenever I read it,” she said. “I changed the POV every 2 paragraphs, the dialogue was unnatural, and the description was so so bland.” However, she said that it was her fic that was written in English so she felt like it’s something that she should be proud of.
Besides one-shot, she also used to do requests where she would write 100-word drabble based on a song requested by someone. “I love the challenge of trying to understand the meaning behind the songs, then put it into a limited number of words,” she said. Since 2015, she also started writing slash fics. She personally found that it had a different kind of challenge. “In slash fics, the pairing usually already had some sort of chemistry that’s shown through their interactions in real life. So the real challenge is how to put those chemistry into words.” Besides the football fandom, since last year, she has also written for the riordanverse fandom. For this fandom then, she said that there is another kind of challenge, which was how put the characters into her story and head-canon without making them OOC.
Her inspirations mainly come from songs, and music videos. Whenever she found a song that she liked, she would look up the meaning of that song and try to analyze each line of the song. “I love MVs that have some sort of story line,” she said. “Some of my fics for the riordanverse fandom were inspired by MVs, like Wildfire from Seafret, and First Time He Kissed a Boy by Kadie Elder.”
Once she gets an idea for a fic, she will jot down some things that she thought would be essential in the fic in her journal. Music is a big must whenever she writes a fic, along with a cup of coffee. One of her strategies in writing is by making herself write at least 500 words every day. She finds it to be quite effective, especially when she is working on a multi-chaptered fic.
While she really enjoys writing fluff, she said that she can’t write some angst. According to her, real life is already hard enough, so she doesn’t want to put more sadness into something that supposed to be an escape. She particularly loves AU fics. “It takes quite a lot of imagination to put the characters into a whole different set of universe, yet you still have to write them as who they really are canonically. I enjoy both reading it and writing it.” When it comes to the kind of AU that she likes, she said that she is a sucker for Soulmate!AU fic and Coffee Shop AU (Well, considering that she drinks at least 4 cups of coffee a day, we was not really surprised about this).  She also mentioned that one of her favorite tropes is Fake Dating. She told us that one of her fics that she’s most proud of is The Thin Line. “It’s about  David/Joe which is one of my favorite pairings, it’s an AU fic, and it’s a fake dating one. And somehow I managed to squeeze in Fernando Torres to give a shovel talk in the fic.” Here’s an excerpt of that fic:
David looked up at Joe and his eyes were wide and warm. But the look in those caramel eyes were a mix of longing and sincerity and something vulnerable. Joe absently thought whether it was the same kind of look that David found in his eyes. Joe cupped David’s cheek with one hand, gently ran the pad of his thumb over David’s jaw. They were still swaying along with the music but their feet moved slower and slower, like the way the final notes of a symphony faded away before it ended. He slowly leaned forward and everything was starting to blur into slow motion. Joe could see each and every single one of David’s lashes. A little part of his mind realized that at some point they had stopped moving but at the moment Joe also felt like they were inside an invisible bubble, mist and cloud around them. Joe stopped moving right when the tip of his nose touched David’s. David’s breathing was warmly ghosting, almost like teasing, against his skin.
David’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands slid up Joe’s neck, threading his fingers between Joe’s curls. Joe closed his eyes but behind his eyelids he saw the cherry red of David’s cheeks, the rosy red of David’s lips.
In her writing, some of the lines can come in such a lyrical, almost poetical way, even when she was only using simple words. For example, let’s have a look at an excerpt from one of her fics here:
They were close enough that their shoulders sometimes brush each other. But the silence between them stretched like an unbearable distance.
They were so close, Marco could reach out for her hand to hold it.
He didn’t.
(He knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go had he done it)
She never asked him to stay anyway. So Marco left.
(That night Marco dreamt about winning the Champions League with Real Madrid. He won the cup and brought the cup home with him. The home was big and beautiful but it was empty. Marco hated the dream)
(Dream)
Utami said that one of her biggest insecurities in writing is her English. She said that she always finds her grammar is all over the place, especially when it comes to tenses. She also admitted that she felt her vocabulary is really limited, and she often scared whether she’s using the right word with the right context. “But I guess, one of the ways that I can do to improve is by reading even more and just keep on writing,” she said.
At the moment, she is working on two fics for the riordanverse fandom, in which one of them is a Musician!AU. She also mentioned that she has started a Creative Writing challenge last year, and she is considering to continue the challenge this year for the football fics.
We asked her for one tips she would like to share with us, and this is what she gave us.
The best way to improve in writing is just by doing it. It would be much better if you like, really write something, anything, other than just keep on saying that you want to write. Start small. Having 100 words scribbled on a piece of paper is still much better than nothing.
Well people, it has been a great pleasure to know more about Utami. And we hope that you also enjoy it as much as we do!
And as always. Let’s close this with another excerpt from one of her works, that she claimed to be one of the fics that was really dear to her
“So,” James said as they both standing on the pavement. “Well… It was… Nice…” he said, turning his head to look at David.
“Uh. Yeah,” David said, nervously smiled back at James.
His heartbeat started racing like crazy.
Thump thump thump.
He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. It was barely two weeks ago he had his heart broken. He was not ready for this.
(What was this, anyway?)
( The Color of the Sky)
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lilibug--xx · 7 years
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I Never Knew
Read on ao3 here
Based on the prompt by @jokerscrown on @bughead-fanfic-wishlist 
Despite her pale skin, frumpy hair, and hospital gown, Jughead thought she was beautiful. She must have thought the same of him, even in her post anesthesia state, because she had just asked him to marry her – even though they had just met.  
Jughead is a nurse! Betty is a patient – She’s a little OOC due to drugs after surgery. But I thought this was a cute little AU idea! 
I’m actually a night shift nurse on an orthopedic unit, so I’m sorry if there’s boring or technical bits! I couldn’t help but have it be a little accurate. Though obviously I would NEVER get involved with a patient.
Should I write a 2nd part? Let me know!
Thin, long fingers smoothed over navy fabric. He brushed some small white hairs to the ground. There were still some persistent ones sticking to the bottom of his scrub top. He didn’t bother with them, instead shooting a glare to his dog that was curled up on the couch sleeping. The shaggy dog blowing out a soft snore, as if he knew he was being watched. He really needed a new lint roller.
He pulled his work beanie on over his dark hair, tugging it down and tucking in the end of the strands hanging in front of his eyes. He pulled his red flannel jacket on, zipping it up and grabbing his gloves. He checked that Hot Dog’s water bowl was filled and left the light above the stove on for him before locking his door to his apartment. It was cold out, enough that his breath was visible, and his throat ached from the cold air. Snow was still sprinkling down after their big flurry yesterday.
The drive to Mercy Hospital, in Riverdale, wasn’t very long at all. He lived on the edge of town in a quiet apartment complex by the river, and it only took him 15 minutes to get there. He was still driving his old beat up truck his father gave him for his 16th birthday. It was about on its last legs, but he was really stretching it. He was working on paying off his student loan before he took on a car payment.
With the hospital coming into view, Jughead grabbed his ID badge out of the center console and flipped it to slide through the card reader at the entrance of the parking garage. The perks of working nightshift, he didn’t have to park in the lot and walk. After going around up to the third floor of the garage, he parked his truck and clipped the badge to the front of his scrub top. He slipped the mirror down, glancing at himself. The name reflected back from the badge always made him frown.
He was still bitter about the fact they wouldn’t let him put Jughead on there. No, had to be his godforsaken actual name. He huffed a sigh, stuffing his keys into his coat pocket and trudging over to the steps and falling in love with the other nurses and aids heading in for their shift. The sun had already set, the orange glow just starting to fade behind the building. He stopped at the Starbucks inside the hospital, grabbing a coffee to drink. He liked night shift, he was a night owl anyway so this worked for him.
He took the elevator up to his unit, orthopedics, and dropped his coat and gloves off in the locker room. He sipped his coffee, gathering his pens and then slinging his black stethoscope around his neck. Since Jughead worked at night there was no management around, so he was able to continue wearing his beanie. He went to the break room and looked briefly at his assignment for the night. Then he sat down on the old flowery couch they had in there, pulling his phone out. They always did a safety huddle before the next shift to discuss the patients on the floor.
Blue eyes scanned his phone, answering a text he had missed from Archie earlier in the day. Jughead was scrolling through Facebook when someone plopped down next to him.
“Hey Jug, you ready for tonight?” Veronica Lodge, one of his co-workers and also friend outside of work. She also happened to be dating his best friend, the aforementioned Archie. Coincidence? Yes, he introduced them after Veronica had stalked his social media pages and found Archie in his photos.
He gave a shrug, “Never really ready. But yeah, I’m ready to get it over with and go home and go back to sleep.” Jughead looked watched her roll her eyes, his own tracking the way she was paying with the string of pearls she always wore. Her hair was up in a bun tonight, with a flowery headband to perk up the navy she was forced to endure.
“Lucky. I have to stay up today. Me and Arch are going out of town this weekend to see his parents. Maybe I can sleep in the car?” she scrunched her face up at the idea. He gave a chuckle, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his shirt. He drummed his fingers against his pants, fingers scratching his knee.
He liked working with Veronica though, so it would make the night go faster, having someone to talk to. They were some of the youngest working on their floor, most of the other nurse’s were more middle aged or in their 30’s.
After their meeting he printed his report sheets and looked over his assignment, waiting for report from the day shift nurse. Jughead had three post up patients, two from a knee replacement and one from surgery on a shoulder fracture. He also had someone waiting for a repeat surgery on their ankle, and one who was a couple days out from a partial hip replacement. He gave a lot of pain medication to these types of patients, as anything to do with bones were generally painful.
He went through his list of patients with the day shift nurse, stopping outside of each room and then going in to meet the patients and check if they needed something. They were on their last one, the most recent post op, the shoulder fracture.
“Elizabeth Cooper, 24, suffered a fall on some ice and fractured her proximal humerus. She had an ORIF done, I’ve only had her an hour so she’s still pretty out of it. She’s got a sling and swathe on, with coverlet dressing.” He looked at his sheet as the nurse spoke, nodding along. He underlined a few of the words so his eyes could find them quickly when needed. He wrote down her pain medications and then they stepped into the room.
The lights were turned down, and he wrote his name on the white board under the ‘nurse’ section. Jughead looked over to the patient and felt his mouth go dry. Even with her eyes closed, blonde hair messy and fanned out on her pillow, and chapped lips he couldn’t help but find her beautiful. He busied himself checking out her oxygen levels and pulse on the machine next to her. They didn’t wake her, Jughead saying he would wait until her meds were due.
After report he went through his patients notes on the computer, looking at what meds they had due, their pain med options, and their lab values. He decided to stop and see room 18, the shoulder patient who was only a year younger than him. He always felt slightly awkward when taking care of younger patients, he always felt more at ease with his older ones.
He entered her room after knocking gently on the door, she didn’t arouse to that. He checked her oxygen and pulse on the monitor, and checked her IV fluids. Pulling her blankets down, he glanced up to her face, she seemed to still be sleeping.
“Elizabeth, I’m just going to take a look at the dressing on your shoulder, and feel your pulses.” He narrated what he was going to do, should she actually be awake. They were always supposed to describe what they were doing.
Jughead unbuttoned the shoulder of her hospital gown on her right side, taking a look at the dressing there. He felt around it, feeling the temperature and noting the swelling. He buttoned her back up, fingers traveling down to where her wrist was peeking out the sling. He felt her pulse with his  fingers, and checked the capillary refill on her fingertips.
“Alright,  Elizabeth, I’m going to listen to your heart and lung sounds now, okay?” he positioned his stethoscope in his ears and held it over her gown in all the spots he needed to assess her properly. Once he was done, he took a peek at her IV site in her left arm to make sure it was working properly and then walked over to the computer in the room. He charted a few things, checked her diet orders, and then went to fetch a cup of ice chips to put on her table.
When he came back he had leant over her to place the cup on the table to her left, rather than walk all the way around the bed. Suddenly her hand shot out and fisted in his scrub top, yanking him down towards her. “You.. have GOT to be the sexiest.. man I’ve ever seen,” her voice was wavering in and out of quietness and above appropriate volume, her words slightly slurred. He chuckled at her, the glazed over look in her green eyes telling him all he needed to know.
“Now, Elizabeth, while that might be true you can’t talk to your nurse that way,” Jughead covered her hand with his, unclenching her fingers from the material of his shirt. She shook her head quickly at his words and then clenched her eyes shut tightly, bringing her good hand up to her forehead. “Ohhh.. dizzy,” she moaned, head pressing back into her pillow.
He rolled his eyes at her and put the head of her bed back a little. “Do you know where you are right now?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. Her eyes opened again and he couldn’t help but glance towards them. Bright, wide, mesmerizing – were just a few words that popped into his head. His lips tightened in a small frown.
“Uh, yeah, duh.” She snorted, trying to wiggle around in the bed.
He raised an eyebrow at her, one hand gesturing for her to continue. “And where is that?”
“The hospital, silly.” she whispered at him, giggling.
“Which hospital?”
“Umm, Greendale?” Jughead shook his head at her, lips quirking up a little.
“Not quite, you’re still in Riverdale.”
“Shit, don’t tell my mother that I’m here,” she groaned, bringing her hand up to her face and swiping it down dramatically.  
“Elizabeth I think you-“
“Don’t call me that.” she shouted over him, her hand reaching out and grabbing one of his crossed arms. He grabbed her hand with his, folding it back to her side.
“What should I call you then?” he asked simply, as he himself didn’t like his name, so who was he to judge?
“Call me Betty,” She licked her lips, eyes drooping a little as her voice got softer.
Jughead’s tongue reached out, licked his bottom lip. “Betty,” he tested out. Her face lighting up in a small smile. Her hand reach out to him again, clawing weakly at his crossed arms. “You can call me Jughead.” He offered in return.
“You’re so nice, will you marry me Jughead?” she proposed, her eyes slipped closed. Fingers falling from his arm, her lips parting and breathes evening out. He shook his head at her, wondering when the anesthesia was going to be out of her system. People did and said weird things after surgery, so he was pretty immune. However when a beautiful young blonde says stuff like this? He couldn’t help his heart racing a little.
He left the room with a promise to check on her falling on deaf ears.
He saw his other patients and dished the rounds of evening meds before grabbing a drink of water and sitting at the nurse’s station. He sat across from Veronica, booting up the computer.
“So, I just had one of my patients ask me to marry them,” just casual conversation, right?
Veronica snorted, the coffee she was sipping on settled back on the table. “You get marriage offers like, once week Jug,” her eyes were still glued to the computer screen, blue light reflecting off the reading glasses she wore when working with the computers.
“I’ll have you know that this wasn’t an old lady,”
A perfectly arched brow rose, her eyes then lifting and looking up at him across the desk. “Color me intrigued then,”
“It was this young patient I have, around our age. She’s really attractive, despite laying in a hospital.” He was a little smug, however he left out the part about her being high off meds.
“Well, well, well. What an interesting development.” She seemed to ponder for a moment, finger tapping her lip as she looked up to the ceiling.
“How can we hook you up without it being totally weird?”
Jughead rose his own eyebrows in response, reaching a hand up and scratching at his hair under his beanie. “Uh, no right answer there, Ronnie.” It was never good to look up patients after they left your care – and certainly not to give them your number.
She shook her head at him, eyes turning devious as she smirked. “I can.. look her up on social media because she’s not MY patient and then we can find out-“
“I don’t think that’s-”
“-though she might not be working for a while now since she had shoulder surgery,”
“- not a good idea.”
“Maybe I can ask for her number? Or maybe we can send Archie in there as a visitor or send her flowers-“
“Okay, enough, Ronnie.” He raised his voice a little to get her attention, lips dipping down into a frown at her. She tended to go a little crazy when it came to this kind of stuff. “I don’t even know if she’s single-”
“Yes she is, says it right here.” She had shoved her phone in his face from across the desk. He leaned back a bit, glaring up at her, but he couldn’t help but take a peek down to her phone. There was Betty’s Facebook profile, including picture which she looked like a model in – all tanned skin, pink glossy lips, hair falling in waves about her shoulders. Her smile was so beautiful, she was beautiful. He felt this mouth go a little dry and he cleared his throat, shaking his head at Veronica.
“It’s not gonna happen Veronica.” He used her name in warning, going back to his work on the computer. She let out a ‘tsk’ and sat back down. He knew this wasn’t likely to be the end of It though.
He finished his charting, crossing off the meds he had given and tasks he had done on his sheet of paper. He folded it up and put it in the pocket on the front of his scrub top. He decided to go check on Betty again.
Luckily he did because she was already halfway out of bed, still attached to her leg pumps, the IV line, and oxygen monitor. “Woah, woah, lets sit you back down.” He rushed over to her putting a hand on her good shoulder and holding her steady as she plopped back down on the bed sheepishly. He stepped back, untangling all the cords attached to her. “What were you doing getting up by yourself?”
“I’m sorry, I have to pee..” Betty’s pale cheeks were now flushed red and she was chewing on her lower lip. Her free hand was clenching the edge of her gown by her knees.
“That’s okay, you’re allowed to have to pee. I guess I didn’t get a chance to explain the call button before you passed out.” He pulled the wraps off her legs, and noticed her bare feet. He walked over to the linen cabinets in the room and grabbed a pair of the hospital grey non-slip socks. Bending down he grabbed her ankle, lifting her foot up a little, fingers sliding over the delicate skin there, cool to the touch. He slipped her socks on, trying not to think anything else about her legs or ankles and how they might feel locked around his hips.
“Alright, I’ll help you to the bathroom and push your IV pole for you.” He wrapped his arm around her left one, hauling her up. He had either underestimated his strength or her weight because she came up quickly and hard into his chest. He righted her position, letting her gather her balance.
“Feel okay?” he looked her over, making sure she wasn’t going to pass out or fall. She nodded at him, stretching her legs a little before starting to walk to the bathroom across the room. Jughead tugged the IV pole along behind her, holding the back of her gown closed for her privacy. They made it to the bathroom and she slipped inside while he slid the door closed standing just outside.
He let out a slow sigh, leaning his head against the wood door. Closing his eyes he tried to get rid of thoughts clouding his vision, the glimpse of her naked back before he quickly pulled her gown closed.
Jughead heard the toilet flush and he waited a moment, stepping back from the door. He heard the water faucet turn on and then a moment later, the door slid open. She was throwing a paper towel away and peeking through the opening up at him. She was chewing on her lip again.
“Could you…” she paused, the words seeming to fail her. She cleared her throat, touching the base of it before running a hand through her hair, pulling some strands behind her ear. “Could get into my bag and find my underwear?” her cheeks were a pretty flushed red, dipping down to her chest and underneath the gown.
He chuckled a little at her embarrassment and smiled at her. “Of course,” he walked back to the bed, a green linen bag sitting on the bedside table. He looked through it, hands ruffling the different fabrics inside until he found a scrap of light blue lace that had to be underwear because it surely couldn’t be anything else. He held it up stretching it out between his fingers just to check. Yep. Cheeky.
He shuffled back to the bathroom and knocked on the partially open door. Betty turned back from where she was trying to finger comb her hair in the mirror. He held the underwear out to her, dangling from the tip of his index finger. He rose his eyebrows, leaning against the doorway. She snatched them from his hand, avoiding his eyes.
She looked at then in her grasp and then down to her socked feet. Her green eyes found his, her head tilting a little. “Could you just.. hold onto me while I put these on? I don’t think I can balance myself just yet.”
He nodded, “Sure, “ he then placed a steadying hand on her upper arm, fingers curling around her bicep and applying some pressure. She seemed a little dazed for a second before bending down a little and stepping  into the underwear, slipping the fabric up her legs. As she pulled herself upright, she dipped forward and Jughead tightened his grip on her arm, pushing her upright. “Careful,” he reminded her, as her hand disappeared underneath her gown, the fabric shoved up high on her thighs.
He couldn’t stop himself from looking.
She was finished a second later, the fabric fluttering back down around her knees. He let go of her arm then. She then turned her back to him, no longer holding the gown closed. He could see the whole of her back, all smooth skin peppered with freckles, only a couple inches hidden by the sling and swathe that held her arm close to her chest. He could also see that her underwear could barely be considered such.
“Would you tie me?” he looked at him in the mirror, a small smirk on her face now. She had seen how he looked at her.
Fingers darted out, tugging the strings on each side of the gown to meet together, overlapping so that her backside wasn’t on display anymore. He gave a little cough, guiding the IV pole behind her as she walked back to bed. Once he got her settled in and comfortable sitting upright he gestured to the ice chips. “Thirsty? Hungry?”
She looked at the cup, tongue darting out and licking her lower lip. “I mostly just have a dry mouth,” Betty was reaching out for the spoon, taking a spoonful of ice and crunching down.
Jughead crossed his arms over one another, a hand at his mouth. He observed her, the way that the walk back and forth to the bathroom made her even more tired. As if on cue, she yawned.
“Are you having any pain?” he questioned, glancing to her shoulders, which she were holding tightly. Her eyes flicked up to him, mouth around a spoonful of ice. She seemed to think about his question, dropping the spoon to her bedside table with a sigh.
“Yes. It’s not terrible, but it does hurt.” She seemed guilty, like she didn’t want to complain.
“Do you want to take some pain medication?” she frowned at his words, fingers of her left hand fingering the ones on her right that she said were still a little numb. The actual shoulder is the first part to wake up from a nerve block, so he knew it was likely to only get worse.
“I guess so.. just some thing small though, I just want to try and go back to sleep. Forget this day even happened,” she trailed off. Leaning her head back against her pillow. Her eyes fluttered closed and she rubbed the side of her forehead.
Jughead was glad that it seemed she was over that med high phase, and agreed that something small would be a good idea, they could always take something more later.
He gathered up a cup of jello, some water and a packet of saltine crackers along with a pain pill. He encouraged her to eat both as they would help with any nausea with pain meds might cause.
She managed to eat both while he was scanning the med in and doing a little charting while he waited. She downed the pill and then he laid her head back some, fetching a warm blanket to throw over top of her. He had given her the call button this time with a promise to come check on her in a little while. As he was turning to leave, her hand caught his arm, stopping him.
“Thank you, Jughead.” She said, testing out the name he had given her earlier despite his badge reading ‘Forsythe’. He was a little surprised that she remembered their conversation from earlier at all. Maybe that was why she had been so embarrassed, because of the things she had said. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing.”
He gave her a little smile, pulling his arm away and giving her hand a small squeeze before backing up towards the door. “It’s my job, Betty.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Thank you,” she repeated, more softly this time. Her hand falling to her chest and clutching the warm blanket against her chest. Her eyes closed and he turned the light in the room off, cracking her the door to her room.
He stopped in the hallway, the smile on his face reflecting the happiness in his heart. He never knew he could love his job so much.
Maybe he would see what Veronica could do to help him after all. He could tell Betty was the kind of person he wanted to get to know.
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joie-university-rp · 5 years
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Dear, AVA DANVERS,
It is with great pleasure we invite you admission to Joie University! Welcome to the Thunderclap family!
Congratulations, KRISTINA! Please be sure to check the New Members’ Checklistand send in your character’s account within 24 hours from now. We cannot wait to see all that you will bring to this roleplay! We love you already!
OOC INFORMATION:
Name/Alias; preferred pronouns: Kristina, she/her
Age, Timezone:  28, CST
Activity, short explanation: I am usually on if I am not a work or those rare ocassions that I have a life
Ships: Chemistry
Anti-Ships: No chemistry, forced
Triggers: None
Preferred photo for Character’s ID (please give a link): https://66.media.tumblr.com/2453cb8ba24b7e58256e1e2d32ee4752/tumblr_pngiifg7jZ1wza8c2_640.jpg
Anything else:
IC INFORMATION:
Full Name (First, Middle, Last): Ava Elizabeth Danvers
FC: Kat McNamara
Age/Year at University: 18/Freshman
Birth date: October 1, 2000
Hometown: San Francisco, CA
Gender/Pronouns: Female, She/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Major(s): Social Work
Minor(s) [optional]: Creative writing
Housing request: Single suite
Extracurriculars: Archery
Greek Life Affiliation [optional]: Lambda Alpha Delta (rushing)
CHARACTER PROFILE:
Ava’s dad left her and her mom when she was 6 years old. Ava was really close with her dad and was a total daddy’s girl, so him leaving broke her heart and all she can remember is crying for a month straight. Due to this, she has had a hard time holding down any type of close relationship with anyone in fear that they would leave her like he did. To this day, she hasn’t heard anything from him besides a birthday card she randomly got from him on her 13th birthday.
When she was 10, her mom began to date again, and again, and again. She always seemed to date the wrong person and she began to move after every bad break up. From age 10-18 she lost track of how many times she moved and where all she lived since it seemed to be so often. The longest she was at a school was when her mom didn’t actually date someone, mostly because Ava went off on her out of frustration from moving so much, was the school she went to the end of her junior year up to her high school graduation.
Ava developed kind of a tough exterior, not letting anyone in and sometimes coming off as a bit of a bitch to people to keep them away. While she hated how she came off, deep down she really wanted to be accepted. She only had one friend she let in that she met at her final school she graduated from in San Francisco, CA. Her friend even got her into archery, which very shortly became the biggest thing to let out all of the feelings she had bottled up for years. She was strangely not even bad at it.
She decided after a lot of thought that she wanted to try and drop her closed off exterior and try and make friends in college. She even decided to join the sorority her mom was in despite probably being the opposite of what a sorority girl should be.
STUDENT CENSUS SURVEY:
What made you want to attend Joie University? It was recommended by my school counselor and didn’t seem like the worst school option plus I was given a scholarship.  
What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess? Positive: Protective, Realistic, Reliable. Negative: Asocial, Pessimistic, Insecure
Which of your traits do you value most? That I am realistic and don’t believe in fairy tales that allow me to get hurt.
How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole? I don’t know? I don’t want to benefit anyone, just get through school and make decent grades.
What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU?  As much as I hate to admit this, I am hoping I gain real friends and maybe not push every person who tries to be my friend away.
What is a quote or song lyric that describes you? “When you feel my heat, Look into my eyes, It’s where my demons hide
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holylangdon · 7 years
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All Apologies [Pre- AND Post-Death Tate Langdon x Reader]
Request: “Can you do a imagine where the reader is Tate’s childhood best friend turned girlfriend in HS but then time skip to the present when he just broke up with violet and then the reader comes back not knowing that they were together and him not remembering who she is” - @endlessescape24
Warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, MAYBE SLIGHTLY-OOC TATE, mentions of smut, SADNESS, ANGST?,
Word Count: 1.4k 
A/N: This turned out WAY longer than I expected. Maybe I should’ve broken it up into parts? I don’t know, but please ignore any timeline errors, as I’m sure there are a few in here.
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1987 - Summer - Ten Years Old
“She’s starting school in the fall.” Your mother says proudly, holding you close to her. The blonde woman across from her smiles. It’s then that you notice the boy standing next to her. He was a smaller child, with dark blond hair and deep brown eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how pale he was.
Pulling her son over to her, she speaks. “Tate here is going to the sixth grade. Isn’t that right, Tate?” He mumbles something almost inaudible. She pushes him towards you, glaring at you. “Why don’t you two run along now? The adults need to discuss. Privately.”
Obeying, Tate grabs your hand, leading you through the hallway of the foreign house. “Where are we going?”
He grins. “My secret place.”
Turns out, his so-called “secret place” was the basement, which scared you. Even though the two of you were a whole decade old, the dark, creepy place still terrified you. As he dragged you down the steps, he flipped a light on, revealing several rusty surgical tables and blood-caked tools, among other things. Overcome with curiosity, you willingly entered the room and examined everything, begging him to show you more of the house’s secrets.
That’s when Tate knew he loved you, even though you had only met him one time.
1992 - Spring - Fifteen Years Old
“Tate, no, stop it! Come here!” You shout, running after the blond boy. He was currently holding the textbook you needed to study later, running around his house with it. It had gotten to the point where you had chased him outside, and into the front yard. Somehow, neither of you were tired yet.
“No! You have to watch TV with me and tell Parkinson to shove it!” He yells back. Even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s wearing that signature shit-eating grin. You sigh, trying to run even faster. Eventually, he trips on a rock, landing against his mom’s boyfriend, Larry’s, car. This gives you the opportunity to jump on top of him and grab the thick book.
He yelps out in pain, suddenly banging his head against the car door. After a moment of panic, he starts laughing. Soon enough the two of you were (rather intensely, might I add) making out in the yard, ignoring all of the passerby.
That was the first night the two of you made love. And no, it wasn’t on the front lawn. It was in the back one. No, no, kidding. It was in the private comfort of his living room. That’s a story for another time, though.
1994 - Autumn - Seventeen Years Old
“I just don’t see how In Utero is better than Nevermind.” You exclaim, barely paying attention to the lunch in front of you. Tate goes to say something, but you quickly cut him off. “And don’t you even bring up Bleach! Or the MTV Unplugged!”
He sighs in defeat. “Fine. I guess we’ll just have to bang it out later.”
You laugh, looking down at your ugly blue tray. “I can’t tell if you mean actually bang or binge all the albums. I have time later for either.”
The blond smiles, bringing his hand to his backpack. Reaching in, he grabs  his black leather notebook that you had gotten him for his birthday last year, digging for a pen. He sees the confused look on your face as he jots down a simple note. Or so you thought. His pen scribbles on the paper for a much-anticipated second, unreadable to you on the other side of the table. Finally, he tears the page out, folding it neatly, still having not said anything.
You quickly unfold the sheet of paper, seeing the three words in the messy red ink.
Be my girlfriend?
PRESENT DAY - 2011 (OR 2017, EITHER IS GOOD)
“I loved this house.” You say, tracing your hand over the front door, the memories rushing back to you. “He lived here.”
“Who?” The man next to you asks. He was some real estate agent showing you the house. You had no intentions of buying it, but the only way to get in, to relive your times, was to make an appointment. Damn realtors, right? At least you didn’t get the sketchy lady who sold the house to that Harmon family. And that couple who lived in the house before them. You were certain she had sold the house to everyone in the city of angels by now.
Turning around, you can’t help the coldness coming from your voice. “You know exactly who lived here.”
The young man blushes, turning to his bag. He fishes around for a second before revealing a small, golden key. You step aside as he inserts the object into the doorknob, trying to mentally prepare yourself.
Would everything be the same? Or would the furniture be different? Would the walls still be that cream color that Constance loved so dearly? Would the lights still be the same? The floors? Would the bloodstains still be upstairs? Would Moira still work here? Foolish of you to think anything would be the same, it’s been twenty years! But, you still clung onto that little sliver of hope in your mind.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door clicking open. Immediately looking around, very little is the same. The walls were now painted a very ugly color, the floors were blood-free, and the lights had been replaced in some rooms. The furniture was nice, but it was not the kind you were used to seeing in the house. Not Constance’s old vintage stuff. It was all new things.
“… but I’ve been told the Estate is open to sales. I’ll make myself useful in the kitchen, you just… Explore.” You suddenly hear the man speak from behind you. You shoo him off, closely examining parts of the foyer. He rushes off towards the kitchen and you follow into the living room.
It’s a blur of how you found yourself in Tate’s old bedroom, a hysterical mess balled up in the corner. The corner where the two of you would sit and read that stupid book about birds, and he would be so excited to share the moment with you. A grown woman crying in the bedroom of an emo teenager.
“Hey.” Someone says, lurking in the doorway. Nodding, you stand from behind the dresser. Looking up, you see just who you least expected– Tate Langdon himself. “You okay?”
“Tate!” You cry out, rushing towards him.
It’s another blur of how you found yourself clung to his cold body, him being very confused. He lets you hug him for a second, but gently eases you off a few seconds later. 
“Do I know you?” He asks, still confused.
“Do you know me? Of course you know me! We’ve been best friends since we were kids!” You exclaim, grinning. Your happiness is quickly brought down the he says… 
“I don’t think I know you?” In that moment, your heart crumbled. You were absolutely distraught. You were too busy trying to get him to remember instead of getting yourself to remember. Tate is dead. Tate has been dead since that day in 1994. He was shot some ten-odd times. You went to his funeral, you saw him be buried. Well, not technically, as it was a closed casket, but still… He was dead, but he was standing in front of you.
The time passed by so quickly that you didn’t even register that the realtor had forgotten about you. Two or three hours back, he locked up the house and drove home. 
“Remember that time when you took my science textbook the day before Parkinson’s quiz? I think we were fifteen, because it was a couple years before we started dating. You started running, and I chased you all over the house for that thing.” You laugh quietly. He stares, blank. “You slammed your head on Larry’s car and we kissed for the first time. Later that night we… You know.”  Blushing, you glance over at him, half expecting him to suddenly know. He didn’t though.
As the night grew darker, your ambition faded. He bid you farewell as you stood at the top of the stairs, exhausted and depressed. As you turn around and take the first step down, you feel yourself fall. And fall. And fall. 
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Hello all.
There are a few things I want to address, considering the fact that you are only going to receive the NYADA is Magic! admins’ side of the story on this subject. I know many of you are very close with the admin team and you’re not going to appreciate what I have to say and that’s completely fine. There are things I haven’t mentioned to anyone and I’ve bottled up so much I’ve what I’ve dealt with out of respect for the admin team. But after this, I’m going to make my concerns public. I’m going to start from the beginning.
I spent about a month on my original application for NIM. I was very excited about the political climate of the verse and wanted to do something incredibly controversial. I spent more than a month on my application, doing research, reading every inch of the main blog, wanting to do something groundbreaking with the beautiful material we’re given to work with as the blueprints for our muses. In my original application, I wanted Sebastian to have recently been changed into a vampire. The idyllic Bloodline son... having his entire life taken away. Having his parents sending him to NYADA with heavy payment for discretion and still considering whether or not they would have him killed. It was roughly five pages worth of an application. I had a clear understanding of how this would affect Sebastian, and the Smythes, because I had done my research. I learned everything possible about NIM and was so incredibly excited to challenge myself with this writing adventure. Speaking through first Rach, then the IM on the main, the admins requested we do a workshop. This was for me to discuss my questions about the strife this interesting decision would cause. Just imagine-- someone who was raised to despise LNs waking up one morning as one of them!
The admins explained that I didn’t understand the implications that this would have in the verse, how it would cause too many issues, but they’d be happy to look at an application for a Bloodline Sebastian, or allow me to transfer my application to another character. They didn’t even look at my original application. With the story I’d spent months toying with before putting it in print. They turned it down without even glancing at it.
I deconstructed my application, stripping away the parts that they felt I didn’t understand before even giving me a chance. I gave them the application they wanted and was accepted.
The first time I went to the admins for help was shortly after I got here. I made it known from the beginning that I have a lot of anxiety and struggle with talking about my feelings. I was feeling stressed out because comments in the OOC chat were making me uncomfortable and I felt like I was being cornered with a ship and I didn’t know how to address it. The problem was handled seamlessly, though would later be brought up, because apparently this was seen as a personal vendetta I had against someone.
The downfall of Sebastian at NIM started when he got a crush on Mason while he was interested in Marley, and later dating her. Everyone here loved both of the players, and I realize in hindsight I was probably seen as the jerk newcomer who was trying to ruin an IC relationship with the people you were already friends with OOC. I understand now why I became unpopular and why everyone pulled away, but at the time? I couldn’t see it. I was letting Sebastian take the wheel and really thought all of the IC drama wasn’t bleeding over into OOC. This was not just hard on me, but the other player as well, whom had been so well liked previously and was now being treated differently. As time went on, it became apparent that this treatment was what happened when characters associated with Sebastian. The notable difference in OOC treatment of my partners made it difficult to reach out and improve things, as it felt that not only was no one interested in supporting Sebastian or his growth, but that in fact the mere association of characters with him was a damning indictment. I don't want to speak for others in this post, but other players have told me that they felt this way after our characters plotted or associated in any way.
I started to struggle. The admins made it clear to me during these times that Sebastian’s views, especially on other races, were changing too quickly. I tried desperately to explain that even in the application, it was made clear that Sebastian regularly partied and hung out in seedy bars with LNs and New Ages, and that his hatred of them was more of a front. To me, the story I was trying to tell was clear. It was clear to me, it was clear to those I was close with, and it was even clear to some in the group I’d never really spoken to much before. But the admins didn’t see the story. And my explanations of why I was making the choices I was making weren’t accepted. Instead, I was told, “We are here to help you out all throughout the way, but we need your cooperation and no more excuses.”
No more excuses. The defense I tried to create for what I was writing and why was seen as nothing more than an excuse. This is what I was told after I took a month off in January and spent the entire time creating an entire web of ways for Sebastian to connect with other characters, because he’d gotten in a rut of communicating with the same five people. I dropped the ball here, and for that I’m very sorry. I wasn’t replying to starters and I wasn’t reaching out to you guys because I was scared. I understood you no longer liked me and it made it very, very hard for me to reach out IC. But I should have pushed through. My drawbacks made Sebastian fall short. When I returned from my hiatus, I received a very long critique from the admins. This took place before they even looked at the pages of plot I’d come up with. It was so much like how they hadn’t shown any interest in my original application. They, again, didn’t have faith in me. This time, though, it was my fault. I wasn’t what they wanted me to be.
After this, I tried to get back on track. I tried starting to show things on the dash with self paras and thought posts and replies as opposed to headcanons, but I felt so downtrodden. To me, NIM had been the place where I had never measured up to expectations and didn’t fit the way everyone else seemed to so easily, whether it was IC or OOC. But I tried so hard to be more present in the group chat. I tried to make myself liked again. Because there had been a small window where I really had been, I think. A small window where there were “love fests” about me and Seb in the group chat, where there always still are consistently with some of our other players and characters. But in this period of me trying to reach out, hoping to desperately reconnect to everyone that I wanted so much to impress and to like me, I screwed up. I made a comment that I thought was helpful advice about a situation. It had the opposite effect. The player went to the admins about how I’d been mean and hurt their feelings. Later, I apologized to them at length. I had never meant to hurt anyone.
I was then informed that they were not the first player to do this. It turns out that over my course at NIM, many of you felt ignored and as if I didn’t like you. You came to the admins saying I’d hurt you or offended you in some way. During this, I had a hard time. I lashed out. I cried and cried, and dealt a lot with feelings of lack of self-worth. I felt that I had been foolish, caring for the people I’d hoped were still my friends. My NIM family. But it turns out, many had felt hurt and disliked by me. At this time, when I was struggling with this discussion with an admin, I was angry and hurt. I was told this: “Seeing as such, please take a hiatus from the game. This hiatus meaning IC blog, ooc chat, ooc blog. Take a step back, reevaluate, and then let's talk. Everyone else in the admin team will be notified on this.I would like for you to give me a written confirmation as well as a time limit. I will set for 1 week minimum.”
I think this is the point when I should’ve known that the admins were going to ask me to leave. Since when does NIM order hiatuses? I guess I was the first for a lot of things here. I was told this hiatus was “for my health.” Much like now, my health was being evaluated by someone who was not myself, nor a trained professional. This didn’t sit well with me.
But after the week was through, and my birthday celebrated, I came back and was chomping at the bit, ready to work out the kinks. I hated nothing as much as the two hiatuses I’d taken from the group. Take a moment to try and imagine how to quell the urge to refresh your dash as soon as you see notifications, or to check in with the group chat. Wouldn’t you feel like part of you is missing? I wasn’t willing to do that. So I put both of my best feet forward. I had a voice chat with an admin, cleared up every misconception that we’d ever had between each other, and had an incredibly heartfelt conversation. For the first time, I think we really heard each other.  And I was so grateful. I don’t know that I’d ever had a conversation that had been quite so cathartic. We’d both needed it.
And we were ready to move on. I plotted endlessly through March, and then April. And even though the game itself slowed down, I pushed through. Many of the people I speak to frequently in the game were worried about the prospects of it closing, myself included, but I felt after that long conversation that it was important to push through. As long as some of our members were still posting, the game would hold on. We could support NIM in the times when the admins couldn’t be here, and we’d all be eagerly awaiting their return. I, as I imagine many were, was so excited and ready for them to be back. For summer plots! For further development.
And after they returned, activity picked back up And it was awesome. I was doing my absolute best to have Seb communicate with more characters, and myself with more of you. So you would understand, individually, how important you were to me, even if I’m absolutely terrible at showing it. I thought I was succeeding. And Sebastian was all over the dash, and even arguing with other characters, which is the most fun to play out. And he said some horrid things, as he does, because he thinks in absolutes. It’s one of his fatal flaws. And during this argument, a comparison was made. And while Sebastian, as a Bloodline in the magical world, didn’t understand the full implications. I, as a Common, did. It made me uncomfortable. I went to the admins for help because during in the long discussions with the admins I’d had before, I was always told to come to them. In regards to triggers, they said, “We do this because the agreed-upon rules of the game is to create a space that is safe for people.” And it should be.
So I was incredibly triggered, not by the description of qualities (because they were beyond fair, and tame in comparison to what Sebastian had said) but to the comparison of Sebastian to Donald Trump. I personally feel, and know that some others also feel, that that is a line you don’t cross. Even in “real life,” it’s a comparison that no one I know would make because of the harsh implications. And it really bothered me. I was tempted to address it with the player directly, simply to ask for a trigger warning and consideration that the comment be removed, though the descriptions remained in place. (Though I never spoke to the player, a trigger warning has since been added.) But for fear of hurting the person’s feelings as I had many of yours in the past, I reached out to the admins for help. I was told such things as, “Honestly, my initial thought was and suggestion would be that if the response from [them] is that overwhelming and provoking such a strong emotional response, then it is probably wisest to first take a step back, take a breath, and leave the reply alone for the time being.” As well as, “Call it a night, don’t think about it until you get back online tomorrow.” Is this how events that trigger people are now handled? If you come back to it later, you will no longer be affected by the issue? While I’m not triggered by the use of Donald Trump’s name, a comparison drawn between him and any character is something that I find really overwhelming. My exact words to one of the admins were these: “That is the honest to fucking god most offensive thing? Like, in or out of character, about real or fictional people? It’s not fucking cool and I have no goddamn clue what to do.” (I do apologize for my language. I have a mouth like a sailor, but I know you’re all used to that by now. The expletives are not meant harshly, but with general expression as they always are with me.) Later, I said, “If [they] would have literally left the Donald Trump comparison and just listed the qualities? I wouldn’t haven’t give a shit, and the argument could have went on as it was.”
I didn’t realize that this had sealed my fate.
I was told this ([Brackets] have been used for anonymity): “Lola, I don't think this role play is okay for your mental health. Sebastian was the one who went after [them] in the first place by calling [them] names? There was also the casual toss of the word homicidal?” That word ‘homicidal’ was used in regards to animals. I owned up to the intensity of the argument and also that it would have continued, had Donald Trump simply been left out. After the election, we were asked to keep Commons’ politics out of the OOC chat, and they also weren’t discussed in-game.
The admin then listed all of the people they felt I have “problems” with OOC. Because, starting from the first time I was feeling pressured about a ship, and then about some comments made in the OOC chat about Sebastian being manipulative, and then a comment I’d hoped to be helpful, it had been decided that I can’t get along with anyone. So a list was made of the people I allegedly had issues with and I said this: “I came with a simple problem of ‘hey, this comparison makes me so uncomfortable.’ Sebastian went for the throat, as he does, and [they] should too, if that’s in [their] character. I have no problem with [them]. I don’t even know [them], so how am I supposed to have a problem with [them]?”
To which the admin countered, “This is a tough decision and I know that this wasn't the answer you wanted to hear. However with everything that we've witnessed, this is not a good environment for you. I am not changing my mind. This is better for your health. I remember that we had talks prior where you said that I was giving you panic attacks. This is not about you having problems with other players. It's about this role play causing you to have really intense pressure and making you suffer for it.”
I have major anxiety and PTSD and the pressure of talking to the admins about things I really struggle with has induced a panic attack on two or three separate occasions. I had admitted this to them in hopes of explaining why I sometimes come off as cold and calculating. I am trying to protect myself from this OOC stress. I couldn’t understand why, when I’d come to the admins for help, I was being told to leave the group. I said, “And no one could just pop over to [them] and say “hey this kinda bothered our players! If we could just avoid that, it would be awesome!” And then tell me how Seb should proceed? That’s literally all i needed. Some support. And guidance.”
The response was this: “I know, and it's awesome that you talked with us. But this only shows to me and all of us that this is not a single event. No, this is not if you got triggered by one thing. This is a series of events that proved to us that this is not a place that is good for your mental health because you told us that many times.  I am not making stuff up. I am aware of all the things you've tried to do and I'm proud of you for it.”
I want it to be clear that I have never, not once, told the admins this game is not good for my health. NIM was my passion. I had things plotted out as far as two years in the future. I poured my heart into this game. In response to the admin’s comment above, I said, “And instead I’m having decisions about my health made for me? I know what is best for me. I’m an adult. If I thought I was in an unhealthy environment, I’d take myself out of it. You’re so proud of me that you’re taking away one of the most important things I have that I’ve been building for almost a year.” Below, I’m going to transcribe the remainder of the conversation after I made that comment. I’ve removed the skype name and timestamps for sake of anonymity.  
Admin: Excuse me. What? Would you like to leave with souring my point of view about you?
Lola: I don’t understand why I’m being forced to leave at all. I don’t understand why I can’t make a decision about what’s best for me. I’ve spent so long trying to do everything I can to do all the things the admins have asked [of] me. I’ve tried to [change] how people see me and feel about me and I’ve built this awesome story which I have been working on non-stop especially since the conversation we [had] and I don’t understand why. I just don’t understand. i don’t understand why. I went to the admins which is what I was told to do and now I’m being told I have to leave *corrected typos are in [brackets]
Admin: Honestly this is why I think it's best that you aren't in the group environment. I don't want you to be stressed out any further. I know this place is fun and it hurts to be let go, but I also think a private role play experience where you don't have to engage in something that leads to frequent emotional turns is something that is better in the long run, instead of deteriorating health. I'm not saying you cannot contact anyone else in the group again. You are free to write with whomever you wish. It's that this roleplay, single role play, NYADA is Magic, is and has been consistently stressing and making you feel bad.
Admin: I wasn't doing this to hurt you further, and I know that it is a painful experience, so I understand my intention and this action can have different consequences. I'm not going to have the party you wanted be cancelled either. You can have whatever you wanted to do to be done, you can just hang out with friends. However after today, this is all of us in consensus, I am going to let you go from what is a toxic environment to your health. I don't want you to think you let down our expectations. This is a series of events. Based on our history of interaction with you. This was not a fun decision. This was a hard one by all of us. You don't have to empathize because I know you're feeling not that great right now but I wanted to at least know that it was not an arbitrary decision.
I think there are a few important things to address about the way this conversation went. Additionally, another of our players was informed that this was a “decision made over time.” The admins had decided to ask me to leave long ago. And just now found a catalyst to do it. And they’re cloaking it in this idea of mental health simply because I went to them for help.
For as all inclusive of an environment as NIM is, with all of its trigger warnings and styles of magic to include all aspects of life, my anxiety was the basis for my removal from the group. Because I have this issue that I deal with constantly, they managed to spin this as if they are looking out for my mental health.
No one, and I mean not a single human being on this planet who is not a licensed professional, should ever be able to tell someone something like this. What they have done is taken away my solace. My story. My outlet. My passion.
Additionally, you cannot look at another person an attempt to prescribe what you feel would be a better situation for them to be in. I have been roleplaying for nearly six years. I have always been in group environments. I have never had a problem with a group the way I have with NIM, but I’ve also never had people try to exert such control over my muse and my muse’s story. The admins do not have any right to tell me, or anyone else for that matter, what kind of group experience I should be in. And the fact that they think I would ever assume that they were forbidding me from contacting any of the players again, but gave me their express permission to keep speaking with my friends? It truly shows how far they think their control reaches. But it does not reach me. It has never reached me.
The chatzy party that was pushed back several times and then postponed indefinitely was still supposed to take place, as the admin said above. Without me being contacted further, and still assuming the chatzy would happen, my character was removed from the RP. I was promised one last thing, perhaps to say goodbye, and even that was taken from me.
With comments like, “However it is not only our decision but our responsibility as admins to decide if we want to put a person through what happens in our roleplay” and “This decision was made for the best for the member” and “We value real life over a role play,” as was posted on the nyadaisooc blog, the admins are making it sound as if they made this decision with my best interests at heart. And while they will continue to claim that was the case, that is not true. They made this decision because I was too much to handle. Because I stood up for myself and my friends and wasn’t able to morph into the person, player, and muse they wanted me to be.
“This is something that we all had discussed at length and chose to go through.” This decision was made and I was informed of it within about 8-9 hours. This was quite literally overnight, between 3AM and 12:30 PM, EST. So it was either made at length and decided long before I came to the admins for help, or it was made rapidly and not thought through at all. I don’t know which of those is worse.
While this post will be controversial, and it will permanently ruin myself in the eyes of the NIM admin team as well as many of our players, I felt that it was important for me to say these things. I wasn’t going to give a final response to the admins, because I am incredibly heartbroken, but upon being informed of the post on the OOC blog and people’s responses in the OOC chat, and about how they are still trying to make it sound as if this decision was done to help me, I needed to make one thing clear: this decision was not done to help me. It was done as a way to finally get rid of me.  And it has, in fact, done the exact opposite of help. I feel worthless. I feel as if all of my hard work doesn’t mean a thing. I’ve learned the hard way that people I thought were my friends never actually cared for me at all, or they wouldn’t have done this. They wouldn’t take away something that means so much.
Even an admin said to one of the players who had, I guess, reached out on my behalf and expressed that the decision didn’t add up: “Okay, I can understand that. Our reasonings don’t match up with what’s happening, and asking Lola to leave may hurt more than help.”
While some of you will now be glad for my absence, please still know that I cared about each of you so very much. And I will miss you and miss this game dearly. Try to forgive my shortcomings and the way I let you down. Having to leave NIM is me leaving a piece of my heart behind. Thank you for everything you did while I was here. I wish you all the best.
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realrhythmskrp · 7 years
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DISPATCH, (05/13/17): Mirage Media has officially released information about leader, Park Hanui, also known as Honey, on skyLectric’s official website! Honey is a ‘92 liner and has been beloved by fans since her debut in 2012. Find out more about Honey below!
I, Park Hanui, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of Leader and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of Mirage Media.
OOC INFORMATION
Preferred name: Randi
Pronouns: She / Her/ They
Timezone:  UTC -4
Other muses: N/A
Skype (this is optional, but if you would like to join the RHYTHMSgc please leave your skype username here): N/A
IC INFORMATION
Faceclaim: Kim Hyorin ( SISTAR )
Name: Park Hanui
Stage name (if applicable): Honey
Idol concept: Smooth, Sultry, Coquettish Hanui is however, pretty much the same on and off the stage – She’s kind to pretty much everyone she deems fit ( such as her group mates who she shows unconditional love and support to), yet at times can give off a coldish demeanor to some people and has mastered the RBF ( resting bit** face ). She enjoys flirting, not only with men but women as well and is open about it — has on numerous occasions said that she should have been born a male so she could have many girlfriends. Her private life is just that, private. But being as though she is the same everywhere she is, it’s expected the same at home.
Birth date and age: 12/ 24/ 92, 24
Company name: Mirage Media
Group Name (if applicable): skyLectric
Group Position (if applicable): Leader
Strengths: Singing; singing for hanui has always been easy, always been something she loved to do. She’s constantly working in the studio to improve herself, even after having debuted. She finds that it’s very important to work hard, and so she kept her practices up in hopes that one day she can possibly debut as a soloist. Dancing; as much as she practiced singing, she worked just as hard to improve her dancing. She has even worked hard on a few choreography’s that went unnoticed, but she still enjoyed making them up. Modelling; Even though she has been criticized for her looks ( and as well as her darker skin tone ) a few too many times, she still goes out there and models for magazines as if she were a professional.
Weaknesses: Rapping; this was never at the top of her list whenever she was a trainee, so it was pushed to the back burner so she could focus on her singing. Though everyday she practices so that way she can thrill the fans with the new and improved Hanui Acting; she has a hard time representing a character on tv for all to see, mixes up her lines or completely forgets them and other times she just simply cannot get the words to come out of her mouth. But she continuously finds the time to sit down and practice just in case someone wants her on the big screen one day. Emotions; though Hanui loves her fans, she hasn’t quite mastered her emotions too well. She is sometimes criticized for being not being too honest with them or being too cold. Nobody can seem to make up their mind about her — She’s either too hot for them or too cold. She has come to not mind this so much, she is who she is and she isn’t changing.
Positive traits: Kind. Respectful. Confident.
Negative traits: Possessive. Naive. Indecisive.
PERSONAL HISTORY
( tw; divorce, cancer, death )
Most of her life she lived rather sheltered by the hands of her mother, her father despising the shadows since he was use to living in the light — Use to being out there in front of everyone. Her mother knew this going into the relationship all those years ago but went ahead and fell in love with the man of her dreams, the life of an idol wasn’t always private and things were aired out there for all to see. She was slowly hating this life, everything she did whether it was small or big was known to the world within a matter or moments — Soon the only life she had known she grew to hate more and more with every passing day. The longer her husband was away, the worse her hermit lifestyle took over and she grew afraid of everything in the outside world.
Even though Hanui was young, she could see the impact of everything and the dwindling relationship of her parents right in front of her. She was too young to have a say in anything, but for the best it was decided that a divorce was necessary and the couple went through with it only to find out a few months after everything had been finalized did her mother have pancreatic cancer and wasn’t going to make it to her next birthday; She died at the end of that month leaving Hanui a mess and her ex husband about the same. Hanui was upset, more than her own father with the loss of her mom — Now all she could think about was how she wasn’t going to grow up with her best friend, with the woman she could cry to whenever a boy breaks her heart or get the motherly advice the other kids were getting — Sure she had her father, but with him he wasn’t around as much as he should be. And even though several months had passed, he never properly mourned his  ex-wife’s death and instead continued on with his career — constantly leaving the young girl with his parents so that way he didn’t have to be responsible for anything if she were to cause trouble.
During the times she was left alone she took to writing in a journal, not about her days but music, writing lyrics since it seemed to help her keep her mind off of the world around her and soon with the permission of her grandfather and grandmother she started taking singing classes so that way she could put a voice to the words she had wrote down — She loved what she was doing, and made sure she did all her chores early as well as homework so she could go to her classes and practice harder and harder. It was there she got the idea to become an idol just like her father, and with permission again from her grandparents she started taking dance classes after her vocal coach suggested she start early and recommended her to a few places that were close to home for her.
Eventually, news spread fast that her father had abandoned his daughter back home and all he could see was work ( which was true to an extent ), and it took its toll on him and he decided enough was enough and he was ready to join his beloved wife up above. Before he left he made sure to visit his parents and signed custody paperwork so that way she would never be alone, and gave them sealed documents that would give her all of his earnings from over the years and be set in life with whatever she chose to do — He left before she could tell him that she was going to be just like him.
“Hanui, you’re not alone… You have us. We won’t leave you”
Two tragedies happening so close together left it’s horrible mark on the young girl who was only but thirteen — The only solace she found was in music and time spent alone in her bedroom writing, finding comfort as she sang. Music helped her forget her pain. Music was there for her and she knew she was going to be able to move on with her life.
Her grandparents had decided then and there that they were to move away and start over new, where nobody knew her and knew of her past so that way she could live normal and try to move on. They chose Seoul since both were originally from there and still they were only four hours away from where they use to live. The move was for Hanui, to make her feel better — She started high school like any other teenager, though news about her being the daughter of a deceased idol spread like wildfire and she soon transferred to another school she felt was much more suiting to her; The School of Performing Arts at Seoul. There she became friends with a male student who was older than her who introduced her to a few new genres of music and helped her with her songwriting — Soon the two were inseparable and she followed him whenever he went to audition for bkb entertainment.
“Come with me and be my support team?” He was accepted on his first try and it prompted her to try for herself.
Eventually getting permission to do the same since she was only fifteen by her grandparents to officially follow in her father’s footsteps and auditioned at bkb entertainment where her friend was — The first time was no good, but she came back with a stronger attitude and just knew it was her time. Second time around she chose to go to Mirage Media and auditioned; she was accepted to be a trainee and began her rigorous training period while attending school and balancing her family life. There were many nights she went home crying, or falling asleep in classes — But it was all worth it, she was going to be an idol. Her dream was coming true.
It was soon announced that she would training to debut in a six member group known as skyLectric — she was ecstatic and ready to show the world that her and the other five girls were going to shine brighter than the brightest of diamonds out there — Though their debut was pushed back inevitably and she grew irritated.  She tried to look past it, thinking of it as being just a small bump in the road of her career and almost made the decision to move to another company before her company came to her and said that they were still to debut as skyLectric, only as a four member group instead of six — And she was chosen as the leader of her group. Hanui was speechless, but accepted the position and trained even harder, almost skeptical at first of them choosing her over the other girls to be the leader, but she was strong yet kind. It was known all throughout the company.
Their debut came on them faster than she anticipated, but they were well received and everyone loved them — Something she was worried about somewhat. Things were great, things were fine ~ Hanui was excited and pushed herself and her girls, though she made sure to be there for them whenever and wherever they needed her. She was like the mother figure, even though she wasn’t the oldest — She was still the leader, still their group mom. They were her life now as was their group, and she made sure to treat them as so. Her family. Things were looking so well for them, and that kept a constant smile on her face and made it easier to practice and improve her vocal ability and dancing before focusing on her rapping — Never really allowing herself to sway away from what she loved, or be let down by rude comments brought on by people online that didn’t know her. She was happy — She was living the dream.
“Look how the world lights up for you girls ~ You’re idols!
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headcanon meme
“♡ + birthday, + collection, + alcohol” - @riotingvines
(ooc: i did not intend for this to get this long but i ended up word vomiting for the alcohol headcanon so here it is in a separate post??? cos i really need to format it and put it under a “read more” jiaodncaond but im really having fun with this headcanon meme though omg)
birthday Somewhat answered here, but here’s a little more.
Miki always liked spending her birthday in the company of family and friends. She wasn’t the type to throw a big birthday bash, but she enjoyed doing something special as much as the next person does—going to get a good meal, going to karaoke, seeing a movie or a concert. The day after her birthday was always reserved for self-reflection on the year that has passed and the year that is to come. She is a firm believer of “new year new me”, and strives to do something differently every year. For her 23rd birthday, she told herself that within the year, she would move to Tokyo. She had achieved that, and now that she is approaching her 24th, it was time to make a new goal. Maybe, just maybe, she would work to open her heart up more to other people.
collection
Miki had never been good with words, so she did the next best thing she could, which was to draw everything and anything that came to mind. A chest filled with sketchbooks sits under her bed, filled with visual journal entries dating back to her middle school days. If she ever let you take a peek into these sketchbooks, you’d essentially have seen into her mind and her memories. She keeps an extremely close watch on them.
“Today I went to the park with Reina and Koji,” a sketch of the duck pond. “I got my first pair of earrings today,” a sketch of her own ear. “This is Shimoda-sensei,” a sketch of a bespectacled man standing in front of a blackboard. And another of him smiling and waving. A ragged edge remained where the next page was supposed to be. The sketch that originally was there was one that she did while staring out to the track and field court from the art room window. Shimoda-sensei liked jogging after school, and while she kept her distance from the gaggle of girls that always gathered around the track to “support” him, she still watched. On graduation day she had, on impulse, tore the page out from her sketchbook and handed it to him after the ceremony without having the guts to actually say anything. He accepted it graciously, with the gentle smile that was always on his features. “I’m excited to see how far you’d go,” he had said. She grew wings in that instant, willing them to carry her as far as they could.
By the time she returned to visit campus a year later, he had gone.
New faces filled the sketchbooks after that. College friends, family she misses, Tokyo skylines. A half burned sketchbook sits amongst the rest of the intact ones, yet to be thrown out. If you were to ever take a look in there, you’d see the sharp profile of a young man’s face—smiling, laughing, focused, asleep… Whether she chooses to reveal her sketchbooks to a person is heavily dependent on how much she trusts them. It’s her soul she’d be baring, after all.
alcohol
The first time Miki had a proper beer to herself was in 3rd year of high school, a couple of weeks before graduation, sitting on the rooftop of an apartment complex with the group of friends that she had grown up with since they were little kids running around their parents’ shops along the shopping street. It was a classic manga moment; she could hardly believe how much art imitated life in that moment. Sunset. Laughter. Anxieties about the future. Eventual tears and hugs and confessions. She saw two versions of everyone—the 5 year-old, with the bowl cuts or the pigtails, and the 18 year-old, trying to act cool while showing obvious signs of being fucking terrified of what’s to come. The polished off 32 cans between the 6 of them that evening, and would have fallen asleep on the rooftop if not for the spring shower that began to fall. They ran, screaming and laughing and crying back to their shopping street homes. Miki was reprimanded by her parents for drinking underage outside, of course, but it was worth it. At 18, her relationship with alcohol was a friendship.
At 20, she discovered a new relationship with alcohol. She ventured into her first house parties, her first proper college goukon, and that’s where she met him. Him with the unreadable smile and cheekbones and clothes that resembled a New York streetwear catalogue. He was everything right and wrong at once. He was a wino, above all that, and introduced her to all kinds of varieties of wines and grapes and she could hardly remember any of them because immediately after their trips to wine bars they’d end up at his apartment in a tangle of limbs and she’d forget for a moment her own name. He carved his existence into her like he carved his soul into his architectural designs. But there’s always a fine line between happy tipsy and emotional storms. The tipping began the night after she walked in on him straddling her friend from the fashion design department. There was an increase in the number of wine bottles scattered around the apartment in the weeks that followed. None were for her, though. He had gone through all of them and tipped over into the storm, but she wanted to pull him back to safer shores. He tore through her like a maelstrom through a wooden raft. She left with splinters in her heart. He left school the next week. She never heard from him again. At 20, her relationship with alcohol was a bitter love. 
Now, at 23, she had fine tuned her relationship with alcohol, with different kinds of alcohol. Beer was for reunions and friends—it still represented friendship, the evening on the rooftop. But wine, wine she had tamed. A month after he disappeared from her life, she was in the student studio late at night, trying to work out the centrepiece for her showcase, but nothing looked right to her. She tried it. He had always had a glass in hand whenever he worked on his prototypes or blueprints. She never wanted to turn into him; but perhaps at this point a part of her still wanted to feel close to him. Love was never quite logical or fair. She poured herself a hefty glass of merlot and went back to work. It paced her. It unblocked her thoughts. It pushed her ideas along, and by the end of her third glass, her cheeks were flushed and her feet were slightly unsteady but her massive centrepiece was complete. Wine became her muse when all else failed. She understood him better now, she reckoned, and every time she hit a block in her creative works she’d down a glass or two, never more than three, because she had seen what it did to him. Whiskey was the newest addition to her alcohol cabinet, first introduced to her by a mature, seasoned bartender in Ginza. She had asked for something strong--it had been a long week, moving in from Kyoto--and he slid a minimalistic glass across the counter to her. Inside sat a pool of beautiful golden liquor around a huge block of ice, carved to resemble a diamond, reflecting the chandelier light in the most dazzling ways. She fell in love. Whiskey became her drink, on her own in Tokyo, without any attachments or weight. It was her go-to nightcap and drink for her solo time. It went well with a cigarette or two at the end of the day. Smoky, but smooth. Beautiful, but packs a punch. It’s also not everyone’s cup of tea. She found her poison. At 23, her relationship with alcohol was a complex, but somewhat whole.
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ikagrp · 6 years
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Welcome Hope!  You’ve been accepted as your first choice of Ariana Grande as Elyse de Martino.
Please send in your account within the next 24 hours. Also, please follow these tags: ikag starter, Ikag social, ikaghh, ikag important, ikag task, ikagfollow, ikagunfollow and   ikag event
OOC INFORMATION
NAME / PRONOUNS | AGE | TIMEZONE
Heyo! I’m Hope, 22 ( 23 v soon ), I use she/her pronouns and I live in the EST.
YOUR ACTIVITY:
So I work part time and it’s retail during the holidays right now.  So it’s hell on the days I am working.  But I usually have 2-4 days off during the week where I can be active.   ( like after i send this in i’ll be gone for 7 hours for my shift )
ROLEPLAYING EXPERIENCE
about 9 years i think? mostly on tumblr.  but some experience on other platforms ( twitter / facebook ) 
IC INFORMATION
WHO ARE YOU BRINGING TO THE SHOW?
FACECLAIM: ariana grande Secondary choice: (Just in case) ashley benson
NAME: elyse de martino 
AGE: 23 
BIRTHDAY: january 1, 1995 
OCCUPATION: baker/unemployed, childhood actor
HOMETOWN: new orleans, la
PETS: two dogs ( hughes & glinda ) 
BIOGRAPHY:
Elyse De Martino was born the youngest of three children.  There’s a thirteen year age gap between her and her older brother, as Elyse was a complete surprise to her folks.  Her older sister ( Audrey ) is twenty years older than her, and her older brother ( Mario ) is thirteen years older than her.  She was the energetic kid who they took everywhere.  Mario was very protective of his baby sister and he still is.  Elyse is Mario’s whole world, due to an accident when she was ten, but more to come on that later.  When Elyse was four she accidentally wandered on to a movie set that was filming in the french quarter.  Despite her siblings trying to find her, Elyse was wandering on camera, distracting the whole crew with a song and dance.  And that’s how she got discovered.  
Elyse’s career began on that film set, soon shifting into the small screen where she stole the show as Marisol Bridges in The Bridges Between, a multi camera “after school special” sitcom about two warring siblings and their families.  The show ran for nine seasons, ending when Eylse was sixteen years old.  The whole cast and crew still keep in touch, discussing everything in their lives.  After being together for so many years, they’re like a second family to Elyse.  And they were there for Elyse when she lost her parents and sister.  At ten years old, Elyse’s parents and older sister were in a car accident.  Audrey died on the scene as did her mother.  Her father survived nearly two hours before dying in the middle of emergency surgery.  Since then, Elyse has lived with her brother Mario.  They sold the family home and moved into an apartment, neither of them wanting to focus on anything that would make them think too much of their lost family members.  But, due to that, Mario is overprotective of his baby sister.  She often needs to call him or text him multiple times a day to help keep him at ease.  
Elyse always knew she was into both guys and girls.  Her first kiss was on the set of her show with the boy who played her cousin.  They were fourteen and dated for a short while too.  A fling that was squashed by the producers of the show who didn’t want Elyse and Vinny to be together ( or else it taint the show’s reputation ).  They only came out as being together when the show ended.  It shocked even seasoned fans of the show, who had no idea the pair had dated nearly all of the seventh season of the show.  Elyse still has deep feelings for Vinny since he’s the first person she ever loved and they remain close to this day.  She’s even the god-mother of his son Eric.  
Soon after her television show ended, Elyse took a break from acting and tried being a normal girl.  Except, she wasn’t really normal.  All anyone knew her as was the smart mouthed sweetheart Marisol Bridges.  Even some of her classmates and teachers would call her Marisol!  It always infuriated her, because she wasn’t Marisol.  And she wanted to be taken seriously as herself.  When she realized everyone would always see her as that character, she wanted to break out from that.  But she didn’t know how.  She wasn’t interested in partying or being someone who she wasn’t just to get away from her image.  
Instead, Marisol went back to acting and starred in some made for tv movies.  The cheesy romance type.  One of them did so well it sparked a whole mini series – two seasons of thirteen hour long episodes.  She was twenty when that ended.
Elyse doesn’t think that it’s going to end and be over with her acting, she never keeps the door closed on that.  But she knows that she wants to branch out and be something else.  Her brother owns a bakery, which is where she’s been working for the past year and a half.  He’s taught her everything she knows about baking.  She has enough to live comfortably on for the rest of her life, due to checks still coming in from her sitcom days and films she’s made.  But Elyse feels like there’s something missing.  She doesn’t know quite what she wants to do with her life.  Maybe acting is really what she wants to do, or maybe she wants to sing?  She needs to explore herself and find that out, which is why she’s taken the time to come on this show.  
RELATIONSHIPS:
katerina russo’s ex girlfriend.  
FOR RETURNING CHARACTERS ONLY:
n/a
ANYTHING ELSE:
i hope ur day is gr8 
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