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aces-of-the-center-court · 4 years

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Hello~ mod Raine here! Usually, it’s mod sunny who writes the headcanons while I do the proofreading. But this time, I took on the role of writing as well! However, as I had only watched the anime and not the manga, I had to research the characters’ personalities (esp Sakusa & Atsumu who hasn’t appeared much in the anime) and write accordingly to what I found, so I hope it’s not too out of character? Also!! This was our first attempt at writing a scenario instead of our usual headcanon. I felt that it flows better this way, so I tried my best > < Sorry it took so long!! Hope you’d enjoy it!

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

It was a rainy evening. Sakusa decided to stop by a convenience store on his way home. He closed his umbrella and placed it into the umbrella stand. After grabbing some items, Sakusa caught a whiff of a familiar scent when he stood in line for payment. The smell, exuding from the person queuing in front of him, brought him back to his memories from high school. It smelled like you.

Was he hallucinating? After the two of you had separated, he had mistakenly thought he saw you on numerous occasions, only to realise it was just someone who looked similar from the back. But this time, he wasn’t mistaken. He caught a glimpse of the handkerchief he gave you during your birthday when you used it to wipe your wallet that got wet from the rain. Sakusa’s eyes lit up. He opened his mouth to call you, but hesitated. He was sure it was you, but what if it wasn’t? He doubted. His eyes followed you as you walked towards the exit of the convenience store without realising that he was behind you.

Just as you were about to leave, you noticed that your umbrella was missing. It was no longer in the umbrella stand, so someone else must have taken it. You cursed your luck and was about to turn back to buy another umbrella when you recognised one of the umbrellas within the stand – it looked exactly like his. Although it could very well be someone else’s umbrella, and you could just be getting your hopes high for nothing, you still turned to search for him. There he was, in front of the cashier, staring back at you.

The eye contact returned Sakusa to reality. He quickly made his payment and paced towards you. He looked at the umbrella stand and hesitantly asked, “…What are you doing here?” To which you sheepishly replied, “Oh... my umbrella’s gone. I was about to get another one.” You looked out the glass door at the pouring rain outside and continued, “It doesn’t seem like it’ll stop anytime soon, you see.”

A pause later, Sakusa suggested, “How about I walk you home instead? The umbrellas here are… you know, not sturdy.” He thought of an excuse and grabbed his umbrella, glancing at you as he waited for your response. At your nod, the both of you headed out.

During the walk, you made sure to leave some space between the two of you to respect his germaphobe tendencies. Sakusa noticed it and tilted the umbrella towards you. When you looked over to him and realised his shoulder was getting wet, you broke the silence, “Sakusa-kun, your shoulder is going to get wet.”

“One of us will have to get wet with this space between us.” He muttered. Before you contemplated if you should move closer, he shifted closer to you under the umbrella. The two of you continued walking in tranquillity, shoulders touching.

“How have you been?” You broke the awkward silence again. Good, how about you? Good too. You imagined the flow of conversation and even the silence that would follow after. However, besides the rain sounds that filled the air, it was hushed. Sakusa wasn’t sure how he should answer. Should he tell you about his volleyball career or how he regretted the breakup with you? What about how he had never spent a day without missing you? Or how every little thing reminded him of you? With a sigh, he resigned, “Not that great.”

Astonished by his reply, you concernedly questioned, “Why not? Is something wrong?” Sakusa slowed his steps to a stop. You looked over to him and halted your steps as well.

“I missed you.” He said, voice soft behind his mask and the loud rain. Pushing his hesitation to the back of his mind, he turned to face you.

“I really miss you, y/n. Can we… start over again?”

Miya Atsumu:

Your face lit up with your phone when you received a message from your best friend, but quickly dulled when you realised that they were going to be late. You sighed and leaned your back against the wall, deciding to play a game on your phone while waiting for your best friend.

“Eh~ Is this who I think it is?” A familiar voice called out.

Looking up from your phone, you saw a familiar figure lean his back against the wall next to you with his arms crossed. “What are you doing here?” Atsumu asked with a sly grin on his face.

You were at a sports hall where the current season’s volleyball matches were held. You had heard that Atsumu continued volleyball professionally, but you were not here for him. You were only here because your best friend had asked you to come watch the match with them. At least, that was how you tried to convince yourself. Either way, you were hoping to not bump into him here, but here he was, right next to you.

“What do you think? Everyone’s either here to play or watch the volleyball matches.” You kept your eyes on your phone, avoiding eye contact with him as you continued to sarcastically remark, “I’m not a player obviously, so I’m here to watch the match.”

He let out a wince, cocking his head to face you while still leaning against the wall, “Someone’s feeling prickly today?” You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself off the wall and began walking away from him. You didn’t want to see him in case he could tell your feelings for him had not completely faded. But Atsumu trailed after you.

“Ah~ I thought you were here to see me.” He spoke loud enough for you to hear as he kept his pace behind you, a hint of teasing present in his voice. Unbeknownst to you, none of that statement was a lie. Atsumu was indeed hoping that you came just so you could see him.

“Why would I?” You responded, deadpan, dimming the glimmer of hope Atsumu held on to.

“Because you haven’t seen me in a while?”

“So? I’ve gotten over you since ages.” His heart stung when you said those words you did not mean so coldly.

“I want you to say that to my face.” He quickened his stride to catch up to you and stood in your line of sight. “It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them,” He voiced in a serious tone, “But if you can look at me in the eyes and still say the same, then I’d believe you.” Despite his words, in his mind, Atsumu pleaded for the opposite. Tell me I’m not the only one who haven’t gotten over our relationship.

You gulped. “Why does it matter whether I’m over you or not anyway!” You raised your voice and turned around to walk away from him.

“Because I know I’m not.”

His words left you frozen in your tracks. He stepped towards you and pulled you to him as he hugged you from the back. In his embrace, you could feel his warmth and his heartbeat. His voice, low as he whispered next to your ear, “My mind just won’t stop thinking about you whether I see you or not. You have no idea how thrilled I was when I saw you just now. It’s impossible to forget about you even if I try, I can’t take this any longer.”

Releasing you from his clutch, he whirled you around to face him and slid his arms down from your shoulders to your fingers. With your hands in his, he gazed longingly into your eyes as he declared, “Be mine again, will you?”

Oikawa Tooru:

The bell jingled as the café door was pushed open.

“Hi, wel-” Until you saw the customer who just stepped in, you greeted as per usual, only to trail off the end of your words when you recognised the customer, “…come.”

Looking in the direction of the familiar voice, Oikawa was equally surprised to see you. He had only come to visit the newly opened café on his rest day, hoping to enjoy some leisure time. But he was not expecting to see his ex, working behind the counter. He stayed stunned, staring wide-eyed at you with his mouth slightly agape while a wave of nostalgia hit him.

Remaining professional, you put on a polite smile and properly greeted him again, “Welcome.” He regained his composure and returned the smile, then proceeded to take a seat by the window. As you continued your work as usual, Oikawa watched you silently. He watched your expressions as you greeted the customers with a smile. Oh, how much he missed that smile of yours.

He felt a tug at his heartstrings as he recalled the moments that he had with you, back when you used to laugh with him, with a smile even brighter than your current one. He got up and walked to the counter where you were stationed – and there you were, with a polite smile, not the one he was used to seeing.

“How can I help you?” You asked him with a solemn smile, as with every customer.

Be with me again. He imagined saying, but ultimately shook off the thought. “What would you recommend?” He returned the question instead.

Though you were somewhat taken aback by his request, you contemplated carefully before responding, “How about some earl grey tea to go with our classic Hokkaido milk bread? Or hot chocolate if you’re feeling for something sweeter? It goes well with the milk bread too.”

A faint smile formed on his lips when he realised you still remembered his favourite food – milk bread. The smile quickly disappeared as he felt his heart wrench. He missed you, so much.

“I’ll take an earl grey tea for me and a hot chocolate for you,” He shifted his gaze from the milk bread to you, “do you have some time?”

A flirty remark, others may think, but Oikawa’s expression was more serious than his usual grin. You broke away from his intense gaze to check the time – it was almost break time soon, maybe you could spare him a few minutes. “So, one earl grey tea and one hot chocolate,” You read out loud as you entered it into the cash register, “any milk bread for you?”

“Goes without saying, right?” Oikawa flashed a lopsided grin, one that used to make your heart flutter. It still did, but you ignored it and completed his order before taking your break.

During your break, you took a seat across him and grabbed the cup of hot chocolate. “Loads of whipped cream in your hot chocolate?” Oikawa casually asked whilst stirring his tea.

“Goes without saying, right?” You replied without hesitation, “It’s my hot chocolate you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your whipped cream filled hot chocolate. When you placed your cup back down, a cream moustache had formed across your top lip, causing a chuckle to escape from him. By habit, Oikawa reached his hand out to wipe it off, “You never change, do you?”

He paused his thumb midway on your lips after realising his actions and retracted his hands. You awkwardly picked up a napkin to wipe your lips instead. A pensive moment of silence later, you heard him take a deep breath. As you made eye contact with those glistening eyes of his, words poured out of his mouth, full of sincerity.

“Let’s start over, y/n. I need you.”

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ladecena · 3 years

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THE GUARDIAN DEVIL🔖

In this world, chaos is inevitable. It was preoccupied with the fight between humans and devils that were both seeking peace and justice. Devils consume human flesh to survive and so people discern them as monsters and a threat that needs to be eliminated.

Akemi Matsui is a freshman attending Komazawa University in Tokyo. An introvert girl who loves to read books and a student that you would always find in the library. For her, it was a perfect place since she hates noise. The only girl she wanted to be with her was her best friend. Akira Tomodachi, a young lad who has a bright personality. She always smiles and cheer up her best friend. Knowing Akemi, she’s quiet but she used to be talkative whenever Akira is with her. Despite of having opposite personality, the two were capable of each other since they were friends since in primary school.

The tragedy that happened 2 years ago had a huge impact on Akemi. It was in the midst of summer night and their night class was about to start. She was in the hallway heading towards their classroom when a sudden scream of a girl caught her attention. Out of curiosity, she took a glimpse downstairs. Her eyes widened as she saw a creepy human-shape creature that had bloody red eyes with horrible fangs. Her heart started to pound and she was startled when she felt someone’s hand gripped on her wrist. “SSSSHHHHH!” She was enlightened when she found out that it was Akira. They ran upstairs to escape and hid in the library. It was a dark room and the moon was the only source of light. They locked the door and went to the corner. They manage to stay until they fall asleep. The next day, Akemi woke up but Akira was gone. She had a note on her face and so she read it.

“I got to pee, wait me here okay? I will get you some bread at canteen J -Love, Akira”

Akemi smiled at the note, realizing that she was lucky to have a caring friend. While waiting, she looked around to search for some books to read. Since she was a child, she had a strong desire to read. Every time her mother went to a bookstore she always brought her a new one. For Akemi, the smell of the new books gives her a calm and soothing scent and it became her addiction.

After several hours, her stomach started to growl. She then took a look at her watch and noticed that it was already 1:00 pm. A few minutes had passed before she decided to sneak outside and find Akira. Slowly walking down the corridor, she began to recall the creature she had seen the night before, which gave her the creeps. As she went downstairs, she noticed that the classrooms were slightly open and there she found a lot of dead bodies with splashes of blood on the floor. That scene made her depressed and wants to throw up, so she ran towards the comfort room, but the next thing she saw was the body of Akira that was soaked in her own blood. She was breathing heavily and fell to her knees. She cried in so much pain as her heart was crushed into pieces. That was the day when she lost her best friend.

Since then, Akemi was always seen alone with her books. After school, she always has a spare time to visit Akira’s grave before going home. She was alone in her dorm since she decided to move out and live independently after high school. She knew a lot of stuff at home and managed to live on her own. She also has a part-time job as a cashier in a cafeteria.

After a couple of days, Christmas day came. She then decided to gift herself a new book to read. Akemi went to a bookstore. It was big and a lot of books were on sale. She went to the limited books that were placed on the shelves. The one that caught her attention was entitled “The Devils”. She was about to pick up the book when a hand that had pale skin touched it.

“Oh sorry, do you want this book?” he asked.

“Yeah, but—” she was flustered.

“Alright…here” the guy lent the book to her and smiled.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Uh… Don’t worry, I might borrow it from you next time.” he then laughed.

Akemi flashed a smile to express her thanks to him.

“Hiro! Hiro Tomodachi!” he extends his hand to her.

“T-tomodachi…” she utterly said and gazed at his face.

“Why?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just remember someone… Call me Akemi”. she smiled and reached for his hand.

That was the first time she met Hiro. Every time she went to the bookstore, Akemi always saw him reading in the corner. Hiro has a mysterious aura, he always wears a hoodie and glasses. You will also notice his sleepy eyes, fine nose, red dry lips and pale skin. He has a serious face whenever he reads a book.

Hiro and Akemi became friends as they meet occasionally. They share a lot of things between them. They both love to read fantasy. That’s why it’s easy for them to have the same perception. However, part of Hiro was afraid to get attached to her. Sooner or later, their friendship might end if he tells the truth about him.

One day, Akemi woke up early to visit her best friend. Today marks the 3rd death anniversary of Akira. She then put white tulips on her grave. Reminiscing the memories of her childhood with Akira, tears started to flow on her cheeks.

“I bet Akira was crying above watching you like this.” she exclaimed, startled by Hiro’s voice.

“H-h-hiro…” she utterly said. “Why are you here?” she asked him while wiping her tears.

“It’s been a long time since I visited my sister.” he said.

“Sister?” she was shocked when she heard it.

“Yeah. Akira was my younger sister. I was his adopted brother.” he explained.

“Akira used to be cheerful, her smile has the power to bring a smile to your face too.” Akemi gazes at Hiro’s face while he was saying it. Hiro looked up at the sky before she looked at Akemi. As their eyes met, she shook her head and it made her blush. “I agree.” she responds.

Akemi lent the book she got on Christmas day to Hiro. The book is entitled The Devils and it says “These creatures are called Devils; they’re blended with people and devour humans.” Those red eyes and horrible fangs that were imprinted on the cover page is the image that may describe those creatures.

“Do you hate them? The devils?” she asked randomly while looking directly at Akira’s grave.

“Yeah… They killed my sister, remember? But you can’t blame them. They just want to survive.” he looked down.

“So you were saying that you would forgive the one who killed Akira?!” she said.

“I guess… You can’t keep that anger in you forever. If you involve your personal feelings, you might end up losing the things that are more important tha—”

Hiro was flustered when Akemi’s hand landed on his face.

“Enough. You’re just talking nonsense.” Akemi got mad at him and decided to go home.

She walked faster as she could, but Hiro followed her and when he was able to catch up, he held her wrist.

“Wait. I’ll walk you home.” since it was already late, she didn’t hesitate.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” he said as soon as they entered her dorm, but Akemi remained silent.

“I’m one of them.” Akemi widened her eyes, she then bit her finger and as it bled, she pointed it at Hiro.

Hiro looked straight at her finger and stepped forward. His eyes turned red and his fangs started to grow. She was afraid of seeing those changes. She then closes her eyes as Hiro grabs her wrist. But the next thing he did was hug her tight and so Akemi burst into tears.

“As long as you’re alive, a lot of things can happen in life. You can’t turn back time and undo things. All you can do is shoulder it all as part of yourself and keep on living.” he explained.

“Do you think the devils were right?” she mumbled.

“Who knows? We fight believing in our own justice.” he responds.

“Why didn’t you eat me then?” she asked.

“Well, that’s because I don’t eat skinny girls and cry babies.” he chuckles.

Akemi punched his chest slightly and was still crying.

“Hate me all you want, but I’ll always protect you, I promise.” he smiled and caressed her hair slowly. As he closed his eyes, he went back to his normal state.

Hiro held Akemi’s delicate shoulder and turned back to her. “Akemi…” The girl glanced at her back while wiping her tears. “I love you… I’ll watch over you forever.” Those words pierced Akemi’s heart and it made her cry. Afterwards, he leaves enveloped in happiness.

Since that day, Akemi always felt like she was being followed, but she believed that it was him. Hiro never shows up himself. Keeping the promise he made to Akemi, he became her guardian devil who always protects her and watches over within the shadows.

- _ayashiii🌸

June 10, 2021

#love cinema movie movies art entertainment life fantasy story #short story #love story

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sugabeaniee · 3 years

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𝓢𝓶𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓔𝓼𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓸

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Akaashi Keiji x gn!reader

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: pure fluff

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You find a picturesque cafe on your way to class, not knowing that you’d soon become the baristas favorite regular.

They smelled of freshly ground espresso. The scent that wafts through the air as you grind, tamp, and then brew immediately. They were the perfect blend of attributes that suited your palate.

Your run-ins began as mere interactions between a cashier and customer. You’d often run by the quaint café on the corner on your way to class, never giving it much thought. However, on the odd day that you happened to be running a bit early, you decided to test your luck and try the snug café out. The café itself was modest yet charming, maple wood lining almost every feature. It was as if you had been transported to a foreign country in the span of a second, and you questioned how you had never noticed such a café before. Hues of emerald and butterscotch danced around, leaving their mark throughout the establishment. Crystal vases full of daisies, fox glove, and buttercups littered the tables, refracting miniature rainbows as the sun hit them in just the perfect angle.

You slowly made your way up to the counter, admiring the display of pastries and breads that were for sale. You weren’t sure of what to order, nor did you want to waste your time eyeing the menu, so when you reached the cashier you merely asked them to decide for you.

“Can you give me your favorite drink? Hot or iced, it doesn’t matter!” You chirped.

The soft-spoken, raven-like cashier simply nodded a yes before giving you your total price. You quickly paid the bill, struggling to hurriedly get the cash out of your wallet. “You can keep the change!” You muttered in fear of keeping up the line trying to put the spare money back into your bulky wallet. You checked your watch, 15 minutes until class. You were grateful that you still had plenty of time and were able to get some caffeine to go.

Patiently clasping your hands in front of your body you turned back to observe the cashier whom you spoke to just moments ago. You allowed your eyes to roam his visage. He had charcoal, tufted hair that fell a bit messily, and sharp features with malachite eyes. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at him as you had been anxiously rushing to let the next person in line go, however, now that you were a bit calmer, you could definitely tell he was handsome.

You were snapped out of your daze and back to reality once you heard your name being called. You quickly grabbed the cup and briskly walked out of the café. Still 10 minutes until class you thought, picking up your pace into a light jog. Your university wasn’t far by any means, but you were a notorious slow walker and thus always had to half-jog to class in order to make it on time. You took a quick sip out of your drink, slightly burning the tip of your tongue. You winced, but as the pain wore off you nodded in approval of his drink choice. Hmm.. flat white. He has unexpectedly good taste.

The following interactions between the two of you continued similarly. You would stop by the café more frequently, slowly but surely becoming a bit of a regular. The raven-like cashier wasn’t always present, yet you attributed that to your odd schedule. You didn’t have a set time to visit the café, rather you stopped by when you had a second in your schedule. You oftentimes also used it as a place to study, finding it to be quite inviting and pleasant. Soft classics would often flow through the speakers and would blend with the irreplaceable sounds of the espresso being brewed or the milk being frothed, harmonizing into a calming lull. It had become a bit of a habit to allow the raven-haired cashier to pick your drink, appreciating the lack of decision. As your visits became more frequent, he had begun to pre-select a drink of the day for you, finding a bit of excitement in choosing a new drink for you to try. He’d begin to ask what you thought of the drink that day, making a mental note if you happened to dislike a specific drink. Even though your visits had become almost daily at this point, you never seemed to remember to ask the cashier his name. However, by now he definitely knew yours.

Akaashi would often await your arrival, his eyes lighting up whenever he saw you round the corner and walk towards the shop through the shop windows. His part-time job was never truly exciting until you came into view. He was so used to the monotone hum of his daily chores, everything became second nature and he often thoughtlessly ran through the motions of the day. However, when you became a regular his life seemed to achieve a golden hue. Everything seemed brighter and more intriguing. Akaashi wasn’t the most experienced barista, thus he would spend hours researching different recipes in order to always bring you a new drink. In his spare time he would practice creating new drinks, giving his co-workers the job of judging the taste.

Although making the new drinks was entertaining, Akaashi’s favorite thing was when you would stay to study. You encounters were often brief, so when you decided to sit down for a few hours he would often memorize your every detail. His co-workers would tease him for staring but he could honestly care less what they thought. To Akaashi you were tantalizing and ethereal. He didn’t know much about you other than your name and his assumption that you were enrolled in the university close by. However, the mystery made it that much more appealing. He enjoyed watching your pencil glide across your papers as you took notes on your most recent assignment, or the way you often got frustrated when a reading passage and having to re-read it several times. At times you would doze off, your head resting against your palm and nodding as you tried not to succumb to the tiredness. As much as Akaashi would love to watch you nod off, he knew you would most likely beat yourself up if you lost precious studying time, or so it seemed from the pile of assignments littered across the table. He’d make you a second drink on the house and quietly place it on your table, careful to not startle you. You’d often wake up at the sudden movement near you, a rosy flush scattering across your cheeks as you noticed he’d left you yet another drink.

You weren’t sure how long this went on. The café on the corner seemed like a second home at this point, most of the workers now knowing you by name. You seemed to slowly figure out the raven-haired barista’s schedule, making a point to stop by when you were sure he was there. You weren’t quite sure why or how your attraction to him began, yet who could blame you for being attracted to such a beautiful young man. Often times you would muster up the courage to ask for his name, but soon be interrupted by the next customer in line or one of his co-workers. Perhaps the world thinks our lives shouldn’t cross paths you thought, giving up on pursuing anything further. You sat down to study at your usual table, pulling out your notebooks and assignments. You quickly got to work, falling into a studious spell. Hours later you were brought back to existence by the rattle of a mug hitting against a ceramic saucer. Your raven-haired barista slid the drink across the table with a small grin. You muttered a quick thank you before continuing back to your studies, however, a melodic voice broke your concentration.

“I’m not sure if this is overstepping your boundaries, but I’d like to ask if you’d join me for dinner sometime?” He asked shyly.

As always, a blush bloomed across your face, this time rising to the tips of your ears. You were surprised that he spoke to you, much more that he seemed to be asking you out on a date. You were sure that your fixation was one-sided, however that was far from the truth. You mustered up all the courage in you in order to reply to the good-looking man in front of you.

“Shouldn’t I at least know your name first before I let you take me out?” You countered.

“Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji.”

a/n: ahh this is a bit of a self-indulgent drabble. I’ve had this idea for a while, but never got to writing it. I’ve been studying for about 9 hours straight today and I’m so mentally tired, but I really wanted to write this for some reason so here ya go! I hope y’all like it (it’s also late at night so im sorry for any mistakes >.<) Let me know if you guys would like a general taglist! I plan on writing more drabbles like these in between updating my smaus and whatnot.

#akaashi x y/n #akaashi keiji #haikyuu headcanons #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fic #akaashi fluff #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi imagine #akaashi x you #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #akaashi drabble #haikyuu au #sugabeaniee #haikyuu akaashi

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flyawayrachel · 3 years

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Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day excepting my lot I go back and read this little thing I wrote a few months after leaving my family to remind me that I made the right decision. Idk why I am choosing to post this today but I've never posted it anywhere before. I've never been quiet about who I am and what I came from and sometimes it's nice to just get the feelings put there.

My whole life I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself, so why now, was it up to me to make the biggest decision of my life?

What school I could attend, what major I could study, what clothes I could wear, what teachers I could take, what jobs I could have, who I could speak to, who I could be friends with, what bank I used, what hair style I had, what nickname I could go by, what music I could listen to...all these things were policed since I was born, and the first decision I got to make solo was the most world defining decision I'll ever make.

Since then I've made a lot of decisions about myself, some little and some huge, but each one comes with a hill to climb. Through this series of decisions I've come to discover a little more about myself and who I am, a long painful process of deciding for myself.

The first decision.

It was a Sunday. I was expected to attend three morning protests and church at 11:30am, my father would be giving the weekly sermon. This Sunday, however, was different. For the first time in my life, I had a separate obligation. I chose, or tried to choose, to skip church that week.

This was not my first decision as it was reviewed by my parents and shut down.

It was 7am that Sunday morning, and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to work. I had discussed the days events with my parents two nights prior, today we had a fundraiser. A local family had just lost their daughter to brain cancer, and for once in my life I felt I had the power to do good, instead of spread hate. This was a huge deal to everyone there, and the community surrounding us. I was excited. As a new business, this would be great for us. We'd learn how to handle big crowds of people, we'd all bond over the stress of the situation, we'd have a great time, and we'd be doing good. I got to the restaurant around 7:45, and jumped into work. We had a LOT to do. I was anxious, I knew I was doing something I shouldn't...or at least something my parents don't approve of. It wasn't until 9:21 I heard from them

"Are you planning to miss church today?" My father text me.

"I'm planning to make it back, but if we get people in at 11, I probably won't be able to." I replied

"OK this doesn't really work for me. You aren't at a spot in life where this should be getting asked of you and this was supposedly made clear when you joined. If they cannot respect your need to be in the Lords house you need to find other employment. We need to talk about this"

Fear. Fear was all I could feel. I cried. Knowing exactly what "We need to talk about this meant" it wouldn't be a conversation with just me and him. Or me him and my mother, it would be everyone. Every adult member of our church would sit me down, accuse me of all manner of wrong doing, scream, yell, and refuse to acknowledge anything I said and brush it off as if I was a liar. A decision they had made for me when I was not even a teenager yet. At 11 years old I had been pegged as a liar and forced into seclusion by the church all because my mother, forgetful as ever, had forgotten a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior to it all coming to light. "If they're too scared to talk to me(referring to my older brother as I) then they can't speak to anyone" an aunt of mine had said, and her word was regarded as law at that point. Months of silence on my part followed. I became solemn and bitter after that. My social skills had been destroyed and I would never get over what they'd done to me. The happy little girl was gone, and in their eyes, she never existed. I was ridiculed for years because of this change in demeanor.

I received several phone calls from my parents that morning. I answered none of them. So my mother chimed in...it was 9:57:

"It is not ok for you to miss Church today. We need to have a serious discussion today about what's going on with you."

Again the threat of intervention.

I had to go home. My boss rolled his eyes, dispite his knowledge of my situation he couldn't help but be annoyed that his second hand was leaving, right before open, on what would be our busiest day ever. When I left, there was already a line at the door. I later learned they filled the restaurant within seven minutes of opening the doors. It didn't stop until we closed that night.

My dad gave the sermon that day. It was long. Nearly double the normal length of our weekly meeting. I couldn't tell you if it was purposefully, knowing him it probably wasn't, but that didn't help my view of the situation. Once church was over, I spead down the highway back to work, it was nearly 2pm by the time I got back. It was chaos. People everywhere, we were running out of things, and the dishwashers they'd pulled to prep just couldn't keep up. I was put in charge of running prep and we prepped and prepped and prepped. Ticket times were awful and I don't think we ever got out of the weeds, even now I feel the effects of that day on our staff. I remember at one point I was apologizing to one of our cooks, who we affectionately refer to as "Mom".

"I don't know if I can stay there any more" I'd said. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted to someone that I didn't see a future for me in the church. I'd been toiling with the feeling for years, but it wasn't until early February that I'd realized that I couldn't stay. "Get through school" I'd tell myself. With two years of school left, and my whole life crumbling, I knew I wouldn't last.

"If you need a place to go, I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome there" she replied.

I was floored. Being told your whole like that the world is against you, you learn to accept that, but this woman, this mother of three, had just offered to open her door to me, no questions asked.

We closed at 8.

Once it died down I sat at the bar with my chef. The foh manager behind the bar, pouring them both drinks. I can't tell you the exact words that were spoken, what, if any, words of encouragement were given to me, but while sitting there, I made my first decision. It was time to go. I remember thinking that I needed permission from someone, anyone, to do this, but it never came. My chef never told me I should, our foh manager never told me I should, no one told me to do it. I had to decide, and decide I did.

Once I got home late that night I told my sister. I didn't tell her I would leave immediately. I just told her I couldn't stay and she was always welcome to join me when she got older. I remember telling her there are other ways and places that we can serve the Lord without being subjected to the cruel glares and sneers of those around us. We had discussed often the wrong doings of the "Elders" of our church. I thought she'd understand and maybe she did, but she was hesitant. She was only a child after all, 13 years old, but had already been through hell and back with these people.

The next day I packed. I used the pretence that I was cleaning out my room and giving a bunch of my clothes to Goodwill, an instruction my father had given me a few days prior. This came only months after my mom had my siblings strip my room of much of my belongings and furniture while I was in class one evening. Many garbage bags full of clothes with other items hidden within made their way to the car. It was hard. Making the decision on what to keep and what to leave behind. I had collected many things from many different fan bases I considered myself a part of, while much had been taken from me I still had decisions to make. A lot got left behind. It was now Monday. I didn't work Mondays so I had all day to work. At 8pm we all sat down for our evening reading. I remember choking back tears realizing this would be the last time I sat in a room along side all six of my siblings and my parents in an amicable manner, still, the looming threat of these "talks" overtook me with fear. Once we were done and we'd said our evening prayer I went up to my room. I cried. I cried for the hurt I would do my dad, it was a common joke in the house that I was his favorite. His first little girl. The years I'd miss watching my baby brother grow up. The betrayal my sister would feel when she woke up the next morning. Knowing that in the following weeks every inkling of my existence would be stripped from the house, I still wonder what became of my old bedroom. Did my sister take it like she'd joked about when I would tell her I was dying from a migraine or dealing with a particularly hard day at work? Would my mom take it and use it as an office or spare bedroom for when my dad snored too loud as she often did when I would sleep over at my cousin Vicky's house?

My mom left the house at 4:30am. I was awake before she left. Silently selecting the last few items I would take with me. I wrote two notes. One of apology to my sister for leaving her here in a cave full of wolves. One to my dad, asking to be left alone and explaining that there had been irreparable damage done by other members of the church and that I did not believe their doctrine. I wrap my house key, pink and bedazzled with fake diamonds because my dad picked it out and never really got who I was back then, and copy of their credit card in it and stuck it in his cubby before walking out the door, tears still wet on the paper from when I wrote it. I only had one chance, as all windows and doors on our house sent chimes throughout the 10 bedroom, 6 bathroom, three kitchen home when opened. I got in my car, contemplated my decision one last time, and I left.

I sat at my job for hours alone, drinking ginger ale and eating sourdough bread. Wishing the nausea would go away. Not long after getting there I received a message from my dad. He would not ask me to come home, but extended the invitation to talk if I thought it would solve the problem and I could continue living under their rule. Reiterating the fact that they would not be changing for me. If I left I was going to be on my own. I spent the morning crying as I went about directing prep work for the week, we had a lot to recover from and my personal turmoil couldn't distract me from my work. Hours later my mom showed up. It was on the way home from the early morning yoga class she had taught, which is why she left the house so early. I couldn't recount the exact words said because I was to distracted by the way she was speaking to me. I was a stranger now. She's a lawyer and treated me like a client, taking notes as we spoke with no regard to my emotions or well being. She'd always counted the days to my 18th birthday, the only hope she'd rid me from her life forever. This was her chance.

The months following were hard. I had a lot of decisions to make and no one to guide me. The people who swore to make it easier only made it harder, but I bonded with the least expected people, some of which continue to be my greatest friends even to today. It was a decision that I don't regret, not even on the hardest days, the days I mourn the time lost with my loved ones and the very real possibility they'll never come back to me. The nights I sit up scrounging the internet for any glimpse into their current lives, or when I read people's"hot takes" about who they think they are, often getting it wrong and seeing my family as a one dimensional group of haters. I've made the decision to me myself and it's a decision I'll stand by until the day I die, eternity be damned.

#My life #wbc #westboro baptist church #please be respectful

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

: Friday 31 July 1835

7 ¾

11 ¾

A-‘s cousin came this morning no kiss. Breakfast at 9 - had Mr Husband - walked with him to Whiskam quarry - he thinks the stone will do very well for the drybridge, to form Mr Gray’s arch up against it - told Mr Husband I should put Charles and James H- under his orders - said I wanted the 2 horse stable doing and 20 to 30 trees guarding in the Wheat field and (GR-‘s) field above Lower brea - then had Washington - explained to him about Charles H- told W- to get the gates done (ordered of Fawcett) for Mawson and order as many more such for Aquilla Green as he (AG-) wanted - and Joseph Hepworth to make the barn and other doors for Hopkin’s barn to find the stuff, I not choosing to spare my good dry planks and boards - otherwise Charles H- might have made the doors - Captain Sutherland has written to SW- to desire the notices to quit may be sent to the tenants - John Clarke got home before or about 1 bringing a letter from Mr William Grey advising that the notices should not be sent if no authority for sending them arrived from Captain S- sat reading and slumbering in the blue room till 2 50 - then A- off to Cliff Hill - I wrote the last 2 lines of page 129, the whole of the last page and so far of this - then had Messrs. Charles Robinson and Henry to solicit subscriptions to the Hipperholm school clock - the trustees put down £10 and Mr Warburton £5 and A- desired that I should put down her name for £10 - I said I was glad they had gained her over - she had been surprised to hear the clock was already ordered - Messrs. R- and HC- did not know that it was - very well, said I, then on the faith that it is not ordered I will put £10 for myself as well as Miss W- and so I did observing that if the clock was ordered I would only give £5. Advised their writing to some leading clockmaker in London or Liverpool to ask if in his opinion a good clock could be made for the sum demanded by the man at Sowerby bridge (£60+ bell £15 + putting up £5) - I doubted this estimate very much - besides a good

SH:7/ML/E/18/0071

clock-maker ought to be employed to examine the clock before put up to see that it was good and according to estimate which estimate had better be laid some leading man in the trade in Liverpool - they seemed struck with and obliged by my advice and I hope will profit by it - said I thought they had better settle about the price before soliciting more subscriptions as people ought to know exactly what they were subscribing for - and foolish to tell them £60 would do when I thought nothing worth having could be had under £100 at least - my father and Marian came into the drawing room - Marian thinks the striking the quarters made £50 difference in the price of the Weighton church cloak, and that without quarters-striking the estimate was £150 or £180 - my father declined giving anything - stood sometime talking to Marian in the hall then a few minutes with my aunt (very poorly) - then wrote the last 18 lines till 5 5 - copied out the 2 estimates for Northgate house and then wrote letter to ‘Mr Powson master of Sandford school near Brough, Westmorland Post paid’ to go this evening by George - in answer to letter of the 28th instant sent up this morning by Messrs. Whitely and Booth - my answer written in the names merely to say the ladies thought it understood that if he did not hear from them in the course of 10 days or a fortnight he would consider the school disposed of - A- returned at 6 - dinner at 6 ¼ - Mr Harper came during dinner - went to him about 6 ¾ - and he staid till 9 explaining his calculations about the coal water wheel etc ...... taking the mytholm mill wheel as his basis of calculations he recommends a wheel of 20ft diameter with 5ft of breast (or rim) - this we could always keep going with a six power horse more than enough to keep two pumps § eight inch bore constantly going which 2 pumps Holt allows will be more than enough to dry the coal - average height of water for 12 hours = 3in. in a 2ft. bread guage and average height for 12 hours = 7in. .:. average of water for 24 hours = 5in. - 2 eight-in bore pumps to lift the water 90ft. high ‘without (according to Holt) requiring a quick stroke’ - 1 cubic ft. of water weighs 62lbs. two 8in. diameter pumps 90 ft. long will contain 45 cubic ft. of water, but say that they shall be full only to the length of 30in. or say 3ft. 6in. then in the latter case 10 cubic ft. of water may be lifted each time by each pump, and each will come up once in a minute = 10x2 = 20 cubic ft. per minute - Recommends the tail-goit to be 3ft. wide 2ft. to the spring of the arch and from the springing to the centre to be 1ft. - the bottoms to be 3ft. 4in. long, 2in. on each side of lap on the walls being enough better than having no more - thinks I decided right in taking Nelson - B. he has no tackling - could not begin so soon as N- who will begin on Monday and want the carts next Tuesday week - BH- quick and honest workman but has much work on hand and is more for long chimneys and mills than such work as at Northgate - the 1st payment to the masons at Xmas - thinks it will be about £500 - told him to arrange about the payments a she thought best - gave him carte blanche about this - could very [well] pay £500 at Xmas or more - Extra masons’ work for paving and making common shore etc may amount to about £200 + Nelsons’ estimate = £2900 to £3000 Mr. H-‘s estimate calculates £1500 for joiners’ work and all other etc at £1500 more consequently he will not exceed his original estimate of £6000 - Mr. Husband to be paid separately - Mr. Harper will give him a check upon me - Mr Harper himself makes a point of receiving nothing till he has completed his job to the satisfaction of his employer - very good - Booth had the Lodge and bridge both to be completed by the end of November - but if he gets on well Mr Harper may indulge him a month with respect to completing the latter - sometime talking to George in the stable - fear A-‘s pony’s putting out a splent - the veterinary surgeon Wheatley to come in the morning - George sorry he cannot go with us to London - coffee at 9 ½ - ¼ hour with my aunt till 10 ¼ then till 10 55 wrote the last 30 lines of today - very fine day F67° at 11 pm

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jq37 · 4 years

Text

The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 12 Rescue at Buzzybrook

The Peppermint Knight Rises

Welcome to an extremely wild two minutes in the lives of the Rocks family and all those assembled to witness the insanity about to take place.

The gang (along w/ Cara, Manta Ray Jack, and Rina’s crew) have poofed into Buzzybrook where Liam’s dad--Joren Jawbreaker--is about to be executed. They’re able to stay relatively stealthy on their group stealth check (despite Rina’s Nat 1) and, peeking outside, the group sees Bulbian priests, Imperial soldiers, and Ceresian soldiers (like, Ciabatta’s men, not Imperials). Their flags are stationed outside of various cottages in the area (which Ruby uses Mage Hand, her rogue skills, and a grudgingly accepted help action from Rina to unlock). Rina also helps Cara with her concentration checks on the teleportation spell by casting Wall of Ice (the special ability of her staff, Winterscoop) to give her a protected area which Cara just lets happen because sure, why not?

Just to set the scene a little more, it’s dark outside except for some lit braziers, the village has been largely burned down except for the cottages I mentioned before, and the citizens are being forced to march to the gallows to watch the execution, though Joren hasn’t been brought out yet. With all the banners of the different factions gathered together, it seems almost celebratory. They’re within the standing stones which is in what’s called a sugar hut--basically, just a kind of house built over the standing stones so they can claim it’s a Candian cultural thing and not witchcraft if Bulbian missionaries show up.

Liam and Ruby decide to check out the cottages to get a better idea of what’s going on. Liam, in his cottage, finds Oliver Onionpatch (the Bulbian Archbishop) speedily transcribing information into his book including pictures/schematics of monsters, Ceresian constructs, war engines like Lazuli was working on, and liquid daggers. It seems like Ciabatta gave Alfredi’s notes to the church and they are expanding on them. He’s being guarded by Bonathan Flashfry (fry guy from Jet’s fight). Liam casts Hunter’s Mark on Onionpatch. In her cottage, Ruby sees Grissini speaking to Spearia Mentha (Liam’s mom) who is chained up. Ruby tells Liam who tells her what he found and then Ruby fills in Theo.

While they’re working on a plan, Jawbreaker is led to the noose and they start to read his crimes. Liam casts Disguise Self to look like Onionpatch. They pull the lever and Jawbreaker begins to hang and the gang rolls for initiative!

Because of the circumstances the party gets a surprise round.

Jawbreaker succeeds on his first death save but, even if he hadn’t, he would have been in good hands because Theo Misty Steps to the gallows, and cuts him down before running for cover.

Liam, on a Nat 1, shatters the glass while trying to attack Onionpatch fully giving away his position. That single mistake out of his system, Liam once again goes full Peppermint Batman and hits Onionpatch (and, judging by his reaction, Brennan by proxy) with two more attacks--one of them being a Nat 20--for a total of *84 points of damage*. He uses his movement to hide in the next house over where he has great line of sight for another attack (and he hides with a Nat 20 plus his natural plus 10 plus Pass Without a Trace for a total of 40 which is the DC for things that are nigh impossible).

Ruby casts Jump to help with her movement and gets into position to help break Spearia out. Grissini who was snapped out of his surprise when Theo did his thing starts yelling orders to his men outside.

Reap the Whirlwind

And then it’s Saccharina’s turn.

Yeah, I know I said her full name was annoying to type out every time but she deserves to get her full name for what she’s about to do.

Rina runs through the crowd, uses her Storm Sorcerer ability to Fly (which she can do before she casts a 1st level spell or higher which is such cool flavor and good for utility as well--in this case it means she doesn’t take opportunity attacks). She casts Thunderstep at 4th level (which is like Misty Step but you can take someone with you and it does AoE damage when you poof away) and uses her Channel Divinity from her Tempest Domain Cleric levels to auto do max damage (40 or half if they save) and they also get another plus three because it’s lightning damage (she has some kind of aura that does that) *and* she uses Quicken Spell (a Sorc thing that lets you cast a spell that takes an action as a bonus action) to cast Spare the Dying on Jawbreaker as she brings him to safety.

If Liam is Batman then Rina is Storm, for sure.

Brennan is ruined but everyone else is *loving it*--me included. She takes out a bunch of weakling enemies even at without seeing if they save and the few (I think 4) who are left are not doing great. She hands over Jawbreaker to Amethar and has Gooey and Swifty go to Theo and help him out.

Cumulous rushes in, finishes off two more of the injured guards, and dives into the hole under the gallows for cover.

Amethar starts herding the civilians into the sugar hut so they can all escape together, tells Jack to help start cleaning up these soldiers, and goes to work himself, going into a rage and killing two Ceresians. Jack kills one too and the citizens start running to safety.

Theo sees that the house he’s hiding behind is full of sick ass weapons so he kills the single guard and Gooey and Swifty (Swifty very gleefully) help him with some looting.

Grissini leaves his cottage to order around his men which Ruby is very happy about as it makes the sneaking she’s about to do a lot easier.

Back in John Wick, staring Liam Wilhelmina, he does another 23 points of damage to Onionpatch and yells at him in Bulbosi (while disguised as him mind you), “You have made a big mistake.”

Ruby springs Spearia and casts Invisibility on her so she can safely make her way to the others.

Grissini whistles and a soldier lights a signal fire. Some bread guys crowd Amethar but he doesn’t take much damage and actually kills one with a Riposte reaction--one of Jet’s old tricks.

Saccharina--I gotta give her her full name again--clocks a very convenient straight line of enemies and casts Lightning Bolt at 4th Level (using another Sorc trick, Empower Spell, to reroll her low damage dice) for 39 damage + 3 for her aura. Even without rolling saves for half damage, this fully kills everyone but Grissini who is badly injured. And just to make things worse, she uses Grissini to conduct the lightning and has it set his banner on fire.

Cumulous whiffs a couple of attacks, jumps on a roof and then (along with Liam) fails a Perception check, which is always fun as a player.

Amethar runs over to Grissini, attacks of opportunity be damned, and says, “Do you remember my daughter?” Grissini who has just been electrocuted, is a little out of it but Amethar says that Jet might be dead but he just met his new daughter (except, in the heat of the moment, he says it less coherently) and attacks him. Rina (or really Emily who knows exactly what she is doing) calls it a daddy-daughter special. Grissini is F’d up but not near death.

But speaking of people who are near death, Onionpatch yells, “Bulb protect me!” in Liam’s general direction, causing the house he’s in to catch on fire. Liam takes 18 points of fire damage.

Jack kills another baddie and the rest of the civilians run into the sugar hut.

Mom Said We’re Leaving!

And then, suddenly, these huge, terrifying, bread constructs arrive on the scene (along with a giant corn monster that everyone immediately insists is cute because Brennan will never win this one and should really stop trying unless he’s a fan of futility). Amethar takes some hits and then has to make Con Saving throws. He fails one of them which reduces his HP max by the damage of the first hit he took from this thing (4 pts). One goes for Rina but she Shields and takes nothing. One goes for Jack (doesn’t hit) and one goes for the Standing Stones. Theo casts Compelled Duel on one of the constructs to draw fire but can’t hit (2 Nat 1s in a row!)

Grissini does a bunch of damage to Amethar and then grants an attack to the nearest bread monster who crits on Rina for 31 points of damage, bringing her down to 18, but she passes her Con saving throw (she only has to do one for some reason).

Liam busts into the house with Onionpatch and demands to know who’s in the military tent with a Nat 20 Intimidation check. Onionpatch, who’s basically pissing himself, says that it’s Kerradin’s tent but he’s not in there at the moment because he’s tracking down escaped prisoners. Onionpatch blubbers that all the different factions are there on behalf of the Pontifex and are in talks with Plumbeline to create a new Concord. There are tons of letters and maps and information in the tent and he can tell them everything. Guess what idiot? You already did. Liam ices him with another Nat 20 and takes his book. As he does so, he basically speedruns the entire rest of puberty and sheds his teenage awkwardness (I mean, allegedly. I’ll believe it if he can talk to Annabelle without getting slapped). The pages that have ripped from the book are effortlessly placed back in with shadow magic. He also fires an arrow at Bonathan as he exits because why not? He lets Ruby know about the info in the tent so, on her turn she sends Spearia away, and goes for it.

Cara basically yells at everyone and they have one round to get into the car because the meter’s about to run out and she’s gotta go.

Ruby takes 34 points of damage from archers. Rina gets Amethar to safety with Fly plus another Thunderstep and sends Swifty to help Ruby if necessary. Cumulous gets to safety as well (killing one more guy for the road). The constructs try to crack the standing stones but fail.

Amether, channeling Jet yet again, does some Maneuvering Attacks to give Ruby some instant movement to get into the tent and grab the map with all the Imperial/Ceresian military troop movement info and start to run back. Jack gets to safety.

The constructs try and fail to crack the stones again. One of them attacks Theo for 45 points of damage and then he fails one of his saves, dropping his HP max by 30. Theo holds his turn until Liam and Ruby make it to safety. Gooey and Swifty make it in.

Kerradin suddenly shows up and Liam has to summon all of his self control to not go after him. He instead taunts him by showing him the book he got from Onionpatch, and (taking damage as he does so) slides into the sugar hut. His mom, invisible, places a hand on his cheek and says, “Oh no. They took my sweet baby and made him a war guy.”

Grissini Nat 20’s to attack on Amethar but Theo takes the 38 points of damage which drops him dangerously low for Theo standards (like low 20s or the teens). Theo runs in. One of the archers Nat 20 on Ruby who’s hit for 4 points after she Uncanny Dodges (she’s at 21).

Like Liam, Ruby very reluctantly does the smart thing and, instead of going for Grissini so she can get at least one kill this fight, dives into the hut. Cara let’s the spell go off right as Grisini tells the constructs to charge and Jawbreaker regains consciousness, looking proudly into the face of his son, Preston. No wait, that’s not right.

Medal of Honor

EMILY AXFORD LET’S GOOOOOO

Saccharina really said, “First impressions? Don’t know her. SECOND impressions are where it’s at.” Like, dare I say, instant legend? First fight of the game and she instantly fulfills the win condition, frying a bunch of dudes just, incidentally (but w/ surgical precision from an out of game point of view with all that deft use of action economy and sorcerer mojo). What and ENTRANCE. And then that Lightning? Brennan said it best on Adventuring Party. If you saw her do that, you would have no choice but to follow her.

But honestly, she lowkey deserves a medal just for joining the party with two levels of cleric. That alone is damn near heroic at this point.

I can’t believe Brennan let *Emily Axford* have spell cards in his gritty, low magic setting. My guy really served himself his own dice. Bon Appetit dude and, again, welcome back Emily!

Things I’m Concerned About

I mean, I can’t say that I’m surprised about the collusion going on but I don’t love it. I really hope the group gets to talk to Plumbeline again before the end of this. Just to see what she has to say to Amethar and visa-versa. It was an interesting dynamic before she decided to turn traitor and it’s even more interesting now.

Since when can Bulbian priests do magic? Miracle working is supposed to be super rare, right? Like the Pontifex could heal herself but that was the only thing we knew of that was real Bulb magic (along with Citrina’s book I guess but she’s dead). But Onionpatch used magic against Liam and a different priest did some abjuration on Theo. Are they using Bulbian magic or faking like Lapin was? Or is this something new?

Really don’t love that those bread constructs were making people roll Con Saves. I instantly thought it was a water dagger thing (since they did have those plans too) but then he said 2 saves and not 3. Not sure what the other save was since I think we only saw the “drop max HP” effect. And I don’t know why Rina only had to roll 1 and not 2. Either way, I hope Liam stealing that book at least slowed them down because this is Bad Info for them to have.

Five More Things

Just so you know, Rina’s build is 6 levels Storm Sorc, 2 levels Tempest Domain Cleric.

The dynamic of Swifty and Theo is low-key the funniest thing. I want them to team up always. Also funny was Brennan’s straight-faced “Correct” to being asked if what Onionpatch just saw was himself pull a crossbow on him.

Listen, I need to know if Grissini has enough information to know that he’s working for the bad guys. Like, if he has the information and he chooses to be complacent then cool kill him, that’s fine. I’ve seen The Sound of Music and we all hate Rolf. But I gotta know. What are the odds that Amethar invoking Jet will pay dividends later? (Again, it did not work in The Sound of Music. And now I kinda wanna watch Sound of Music).

Grissini knows Jet is dead. Has the news fully spread? Does Primsy know? If so, sad! If not, even sadder but on a time delayed fuse!

I already mentioned this earlier and when the episode aired but the absolute DUNKING of Brennan this episode by Emily and Ally. Man oh man the LOOK on the dude’s face? The glee from everyone else? All those dice Ally rolled? All the people Emily iced without even having to roll dice? The gang sorely needed a win and, folks, this was it.

AN ANNOUNCEMENT!

Listen, we all know Wednesdays are for D20. And, for a lot of y’all, I’m sure Thursdays are for CritRole and/or Naddpod. But what are you doing Tuesdays (or at least every other Tuesday)? Well, I’m gonna tell you what. @drinkingdeadpeopletea (who you’ve probably seen around as she’s active in all three of the aforementioned fandoms) is launching a D&D podcast called Ship of Fools and it drops TOMORROW with a two episode premiere. It’s D&D! It’s nautical! And it’s being DM’d by her so I can confidently say that it’s gonna be hilarious and a super fun time! So if you want even more D&D in your life (rhetorical question, all of us do) check it out!

#a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #the report card

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oureuphoria · 4 years

Text

Worst of You - JJK 07

You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader

Word count: 3k

Note: I’m uploading TWICE tonight because I love you and I love writing and I love Jungkook.

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

Much to your dismay, Jungkook had started passively ignoring you. All your messages were either ignored or replied to with ‘busy’ 3 hours after he read them. Your calls when straight to voicemail and whenever you tried to arrange something he’d cancel. You knew his job was demanding but you couldn’t understand why he had no time in the past 10 days to message you back at all. Hell, you were sure he had Sundays off so when Sunday eventually came, you were positive he was avoiding you and you planned to get to the bottom of it.

It was a Wednesday and a full week since you had failed your Dorm inspection. Your room was spotless and you kept the commons room clean however, Alex’s room was a complete mess and they found weed in her possession. She was given a 14-day notice of eviction and while you disliked her, you still felt bad. She assured you that she had family nearby and that she wasn’t planning on staying anyway. The fact that Alex couldn’t careless pushed you not to care either.

For a short, blissful moment, you had believed that you would be peacefully alone, but someone was already arranged to take her spot and you needed to prepare yourself for the awkward tension of living with a stranger. You didn’t have time to dwell over your living arrangements, you had high schoolers to tutor. That day, the tutoring session you had ran longer than usual, 45 minutes over to be specific. You never charged overtime because you weren’t a monster but you certainly didn’t appreciate it and when the session was finally over, the overwhelming sense of relief had engulfed you.

Fighting through your tiredness, you decided against going home so you could visit Jungkook instead. You thought he wouldn’t be able to ignore you in person and boy were you wrong. When you had first approached the reception desk, you were surprised to see a younger lady, one with a much nicer smile. At first, that made you glad, the other lady, albeit efficient at her job, was standoffish and blatantly rude. However, you would soon regret every trusting that deceptively sweet smile of hers.

“How can I help you?” “Hi, I’m here to see Jungkook?” You ignored her coy smile and the way she rolled her eyes. Maybe she was having a bad day and deserved the benefit of the doubt. “What’s your name?” You stuttered when you said it which was embarrassing enough but then she called him and rather loudly stated that ‘one of your hookups was here to see you’ and when she had said your name, she let out a chuckle at his reaction. “He said he’s busy and just a piece of advice from my personal experience, if he didn’t call you back then he’s really not interested.” You’ve always been good at having a poker face although it proved useless in moments where you were severely upset and this was bordering on becoming one. However, you pushed back whatever tears were threatening to fall and gave her a curt smile. “Noted.”

When you were finally at your dorm, you couldn’t even sleep. Instead you doodled Pokemon characters in your books and try to make sense of all that had happened. Maybe he wasn’t into you. You were emotional the day that he had confessed, maybe he just pitied you and wanted to spare the pain of rejection. You let out a frustrated sigh as you angrily crushed the paper you were drawing on, aiming it directly into your bin.

From then on you didn’t message, call or visit Jungkook at all until Saturday night. You remember him telling you that he normally had Saturday nights off unless there was an emergency, most of the cases on those nights were just drunk brawls and people who had too much to drink. The phone rang for a bit before it abruptly stopped indicating that he had hung up on you. You told yourself that was it, the last chance you’d give him. If he wanted to talk to you, he would and evidently, he didn’t. However, forgetting about him was easier said then done which was why you found yourself walking through central park at 8pm in October.

You didn’t do much, just wandered around and stared at ducks which were rather displeased with your lack of bread. You went to a street vendor for a pretzel that was far too overpriced but you didn’t seem to care, happy enough that you had something warm in your hands. You even tried to befriend a small bird but it turned out that it just cared about your pretzel and your so-called ‘friend’ flew away the moment you had finished it.

Realising you hadn’t checked your phone in a while, you fished it out of your pocket while seated on a park bench and much to your distaste, you had 2 missed calls from the last person you wanted to speak to.

Jungkook was genuinely busy, that much was true, but even in the moments that he wasn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to reply to you. He grew so accustomed to worrying about no one else but himself that communicating constantly slipped his mind. He wasn’t the best replier and whenever he’d remind himself to call you back, it’d be too late in the night for you to pick up. He wasn’t good at this, he never knew what to say and once you stopped talking to him altogether he felt guilty because his first reaction was relief. He truly was an asshole and you deserved so much better which was why Jungkook had decided to let you go.

Saturday nights were usually reserved for Jungkook’s close circle of friends and their drinking habits. Jungkook normally went home with a girl and this time was no exception, in fact, he desperately needed the distraction. However, mid-way through his conversation with some random girl he had hoped to take home, you rang and he stared at his phone for a moment before hanging up. The moment his finger hit decline, he could feel guilt and regret consume him.

You hadn’t actually meant to call Jungkook. You had meant to call back Jimin since it was awfully peculiar of him to call you at 11pm (or ever?) for no foreseeable reason but your finger had slipped and you called the person right under Jimin’s contact. Since Jungkook was the last person you called, you called Jungkook and you didn’t even notice until he picked up. You were confused at the voice which was obviously not Jimin’s so you quickly checked the caller ID only to realise it was the man who ghosted you for 2 weeks.

Jungkook was half-naked and making out with the same girl on his bed when you called again. He forgot to put his phone on silent so the ringing persisted quite loudly. He tried to ignore it but it droned on for a bit. “Just pick it up, I’m not going anywhere.” She gave him a suggestive wink while he apologised and grabbed his phone, walking to the bathroom. “What’s up?” He breathed out in a tone that was evidently annoyed and there was a pause before you replied. “Nothing much, nice to hear from you again.” Your tone was painfully sarcastic and all Jungkook could do was sigh before replying. “Now isn’t a good time Y/N.” “It’s the only time though, right? Since you only pick up the phone once every 14 days.”

The line went quiet for a bit which allowed you to hear a female voice in the background asking if everything was okay. You weren’t stupid, you got the hint and so you scoffed and hung up. When Jungkook checked his phone again to see that you’d hung up, he ran his hands over his face and resisted the urge to pull his hair out. He hurt you and it was in that brief moment of extreme guilt that Jungkook had realised he regretted every pushing you away. The deed was done though, so he left the bathroom and shook off his guilt. “Sorry, where were we?”

Despite your blood boiling and your fractured heart, you called Jimin back, properly this time. “Hey, Jimin what’s up?” “Hey, it’s an emergency. I need you to tutor me and I-” “No.” And with that you hung up, Jimin was the last person you wanted to spend time with and the last person you owed a favour too.

__________________

It had been 2 weeks since you had last seen Jungkook and your birthday was in 6 days. You weren’t sure how you were going to celebrate it or if you even wanted to at all. You cleared your lessons for that day because you didn’t really feel like spending your 21st birthday with annoying high schoolers. You were still fairly upset about what happened with Jungkook. For the first time, someone showed a genuine interest in you as a person and it turned out to be a complete bust. You were undeniably heartbroken and Jimin surely didn’t fix it.

“Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” You made a sound of disgust when Jimin interrupted your once peaceful lunch. “I don’t think Alex would approve of this.” A bald faced lie, after all Alex didn’t give a shit what you did. “I don’t think she cares about me enough to approve or disapprove.” “She cried for hours when you broke up, I think she cares.” “Why would she care, she cheated on me.” Your face was tangled in confusion although it sounded like something Alex would do. What you couldn’t understand was why Alex had spread a rumour that Jimin cheated on her. “Why did you let her spread that rumour about you then?” Jimin looked at you, clearly not willing to answer but your curious gaze was undeterred so Jimin continued anyway. “If a girl cheats, she’s labeled the campus slut. If a guy cheats, he just gets praised for it. You see where I’m going here?” You smiled at the realisation that Jimin could be genuinely nice when he wanted to be. What a shocking concept. “And they say chivalry is dead.” Jimin jokingly punched your arm.

“Now, to the point, as you may already know, I’m on the verge of failing Peterson’s class and I desperately need your guidance.” You looked at him weirdly, you tutored high school kids, not students in your classes. “I really can’t help you, sorry,” Jimin whined before grabbing your arm and shaking it like a child. “Pretty please, I need to do well in this class otherwise I have to repeat it and get set a whole semester behind.” “You could just do the class during the Summer.” “Oh Y/N, you’re so funny, I don’t do Summer school, it’s not my thing.” “Maybe it should be?” “Look, I’m begging you, I need your help." You cursed yourself for your extreme sympathy because you resolve was surely wavering. “I can’t tutor you but, you can study with me and I’ll help you out.” Jimin smiled, hugging you in a painfully tight embrace. “Who would’ve thought we’d be study buddies, huh?” Your unimpressed face gave Jimin the impression that you didn’t enjoy his attempt at humour so he immediately shut up.

From that point forward, you and Jimin had unexpectedly spent a lot of time together. He was similar to Alex, only genuinely nice when they chose to be and it was soon obvious why they didn’t work out. They were too alike. In the week leading up to your birthday, you had spent a good portion of your time with Jimin. Albeit most of the time was spent revising, you had actually grown to enjoy his company and truly consider him a friend.

Unfortunately, the morning of your birthday was a rather anti-climactic one. You didn’t feel any different than your 20-year-old self and you didn’t have any plans for the day. Except one. It was a Saturday and your new roommate was set to move in this Monday which was why you decided that you would get absolutely shit-faced on your birthday. You’d never had alcohol before, never even entered a club and you were excited to explore these things despite the fact that you hate crowded places and bitter things. It was the socially accepted protocol to get drunk on your 21st birthday and who were you to stray from tradition?

There was a knock on your door which you responded to hesitantly. You knew it would be Jimin since you had buzzed him in but you were dreading the awkward ‘happy birthday’ interaction. “Happy Birthday, kiddo.” You let him in but kicked his shin as he stepped inside, you still hated when he called you that. “Thank you.” You were genuinely thankful in spite of your dreadful tone. It had been a long, hard week and you were simply glad it was over.

Since Jimin had been part of your ‘friend’ group since 7th grade, he came to every single one of your birthday parties. You threw a party every year as advised by Alex and ebbed though you hated them, they always seemed to make your friends happy. Alex liked to pretend that she was being nice by helping you out but everyone just wanted an excuse to have fun. No one really bought you gifts and people barely even knew the party was for you. And like clockwork, every year, Jimin would be invited to your party and every year, he ignored you. But not this one.

“I’m going to make up every birthday I’ve ever ruined today.” You giggled a bit out of disbelief, taking the gift that he had brought for you from his hand. “Honestly I don’t mind, I forgot about it.” You didn’t but you weren’t one to hold grudges. At least not for long. “Nope, you are going to have the best 21st birthday in the history of 21st birthdays and then you’re going to forgive me for all the bad things I’ve done and we’re going to be best friends.” You laughed even harder at his monologue, till you realised he was being serious. “Oh wow, you’re actually serious, okay.”

Jimin made you open the large gift box he got you and inside was a short, black dress that you would’ve mistaken for a skirt if not for the lacy sleeves and open back. “Jimin, thank you, it’s a gorgeous dress but you can’t seriously expect me to wear this.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. “I can’t go into the club tonight with a girl who looks like she came out of a Disney production.” You hit Jimin’s head with the box lid. “Fine, I’ll wear the stupid dress as long as you don’t complain when you have to take care of me!” He waved you off and left, assuring you he’d be back at 7pm.

Jimin came 30 minutes early and helped you with your makeup. Your range was fairly limited since you usually kept things naturally and Jimin didn’t appreciate it. “And you call yourself a lady. Disgraceful.” Jimin also tried to make you wear your hair down but you refused consistently for at least 10 minutes before he gave in. Having your hair down was something you reserved for when you were alone. You just felt more comfortable with it up.

You convinced Jimin to let you wear a long coat because it was cold outside and you were walking but he made you promise you’d take it off once you got into the club which was a fair condition. However, when you had seen the line you presumed you’d never make it in anyway. Jimin grabbed your hand and waltzed straight to the doors where they immediately greeted him and let him in, no questions asked. They stopped you for an ID check though to which you gladly complied and the bouncer wished you an insincere happy birthday which made you far happier than it should’ve.

When you got in Jimin pulled at your coat which you reluctantly let go of and handed it to the waiters waiting in the foyer. You’d never been to a club before but your imagination couldn’t even fathom this. It was huge. There were hundreds of people and you could feel your anxiety increasing at a riveting pace. “I want to go home.” “Not until you’re completely wasted, let’s go.” Jimin takes you straight to the bar where you both sit, you start to spin yourself on the stool childishly before Jimin abruptly stopped you, scolding you a little as if you were 10.

The bartender was busy taking a group’s order and it took a couple of glances before you realised the group was the NYPD and Jungkook was right there. “Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.” You were smacking his arm to get his attention off the menu boards and onto you. “What, child?” You told Jimin about Jungkook during one of the earlier study periods and Jimin was convinced he was actually secretly in love with you but didn’t want to put you in danger which is why he let you go. You laughed a lot at his barbaric fantasy.

“Look, there’s Jungkook, the one in the white dress shirt.” Jimin skimmed the group and suddenly realised why you were so sure he was out of your league. He was out of everyone’s league. Broad chest and chiseled jaw. The man had an intimidating aura that was balanced out by his softer features like his eyes and lips. Jimin was amazed and he didn’t bother hiding it. “Damn, if I looked like him I’d never let myself get tied down either.” You elbowed his side, pouting angrily. “What Y/N? He’s built like a god, I’m not going to deny it.” “I know. He’s so annoyingly handsome.” Jimin hummed in agreement and after, he looked at you with a devious smile. One that usually signified trouble. “What are you plotting now, Jimin?” He smiled before bringing you closer and speaking at a more hushed tone. “Okay, we’re going to make him jealous and I’m going to prove my theory.” You shook your head rapidly.

“No, absolutely not, it won’t even work.” Jimin grabbed you by the shoulder, staring deeply into your soul. “This is your one and only chance at love you lonely child. You have to take it. If it works you owe me big time.” You cringed at his words. You’d never admit it but a part of you wanted to make him jealous, to throw a big ‘fuck you’ his way after what had happened. But you couldn’t, you didn’t want to hurt him no matter how much he’d hurt you.

“No, but I do want one of those yellow drinks they’re so cute.” You pointed at a drink which a girl a couple seats away was drinking. “That’s way too strong and I have a feeling your alcohol tolerance is absolutely horrible.” You glared at him for a bit before beckoning the bartender. “Could I get one of those please?” She nodded dutifully with a kind smile and you stuck your tongue out at the rather shocked Jimin.

Your drink came with fruit and you were excited about how cute it looked. “Ugh, Y/N let’s go dance.” Jimin groaned while simultaneously trying to drag your body away from the bar. “But I just got this drink. Go ahead I’ll join you when I’m done.” That was a lie. You never dance and you didn’t feel like starting. You had been infatuated with your drink despite it tasting quite bitter, it wasn’t something you couldn’t grow to like and so you continued sipping it slowly. With all of your attention fixated with the drink, it would’ve been impossible to notice Jungkook’s curious eyes.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagines

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narrysgolden · 3 years

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So uh, hi, I’m not a writer but I do occasionally (used to) write and some lovely lovely person brought that to my attention today! They mentioned a totally different fic I was writing and forgot about (oops) but reminded me I wrote Part 3 of this ficlet ages ago and never posted it SO here’s that now. Happy Holidays to you all ☺️

Private Nights - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

They were both much more quiet now than they had been the whole flight. Thoughts, and a hangover, swimming around in their heads. Niall was debating in his head whether he was hoping to not have to see Harry again this weekend, or was hoping to run into him again. He was leaning more towards the latter.

With an ounce of liquid courage left, he decided to ask anyways, just out of curiosity. “Hey where are you staying tonight?”

Harry’s face went blank. He closed his eyes, lowered his head into his hands and whispered shit.

“I think….I don’t think I actually have a place to stay.” He said with a chuckle, an attempt to not scream. In years past Harry would just stay at his house, but since he sold his LA home he had been staying with Jeff. Now that Jeff and his wife are out of the country, Harry not thinking to bring his spare key, that’s not an option either. Surely he could call up another friend, pop into a hotel or something. “Forgot I don’t live here anymore and usually I’d just go to Jeff’s but, “second honeymoon.” He shrugged.

Without thinking Niall blurted out “you can stay at mine” before realizing what he said. “I mean got a spare room and all, not too far from tomorrow’s venue.”

“Oh I don’t want to be a bother, can just call up a friend, get a hotel for a change or summat.”

A friend? Did he not consider me a friend? Niall thought. That kind of hurt but he tried not to take it personally. Would probably be awkward to have Harry sleepover anyways. “Uh yeah sure, sure. I’ll be there if you uh, need anything or whatever.” Now Niall was being awkward, tripping over his words and trying to play it cool.

“’course, thanks Niall.” Harry pat him on the shoulder with a soft smile as he peeled himself off the leather seat.

The boys parted ways after the flight, engaging in a much less awkward hug than the first one, and hopping into separate cars. As Niall went back to his LA home, Harry was feeling out of sorts. Even with his countless contacts in the area, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do and had the driver drop him off at the Beachwood Café. Out of all the places in LA, this it felt most like a home away from home. He frequented the dainty café every time he was in town, knew the workers by name and they were always considerate of his privacy.

After greeting the employees behind the counter and ordering his usual, he sat himself in the back corner booth, shoving his Gucci bag underneath the table and pulling out his book. He had brought Norwegian Wood with him, grabbing it last minute from his shelf as a way to keep himself busy on the long flight. Even though he’d already read the book, twice, it was his favorite and impossible to put down. In an attempt to clear his mind, he began reading, for the third time, sipping on his coffee in an attempt to beat the already setting in jetlag.

When he woke up the room was half lit with soft sounds of mugs clattering together. He jolted his head up with a gasp, forgetting where he was and searching his surroundings. Harry had gotten so engrossed in his book he completely lost track of time….and consciousness. Jetlag hit hard and despite his second cup of coffee, he dozed off through chapter nine and slumped back in the booth. A slight bit of panic set in as he frantically looked at his phone, not knowing what time or even day it was at this point.

9:45pm

The café closed in 15 minutes. Harry quickly shuffled out of the booth, grabbing his stuff and swiftly placing his dirty dishes on the counter. “So sorry for hogging up the booth all day, keeping you here” he quietly apologized to the employee, voice coming out hoarse from sleep.

As he darted out the door he really started to realize he has nowhere to stay tonight. It was nearly 10pm on a Sunday and he’d feel bad for bothering anyone for a place to crash at this hour. He quickly remembered Niall’s offer earlier, along with how much of a dick he probably sounded for so quickly turning it down. In his sleepy haze he decided to just fuck it and call Niall up anyways.

Three calls later. No answer. Harry would really start to feel like a needy boyfriend if he called again. And fuck all if he remembers how to get to Niall’s house, let alone his address. Unless…

Harry unlocks his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and clicks on Niall’s name. And sure enough, right under the address bar is Niall’s street, number and all. Even after all these years, Harry couldn’t bare to delete Niall’s number or any of his information, and he’s thanking God now that he didn’t.

While in the Uber on the way to Niall’s he starts to become really anxious. This isn’t creepy right, just showing up at his house? I mean it’s Niall and he offered anyways. Right?

The car pulls up to the soft gray home, light coming through a couple windows with Niall’s car parked in the driveway. Thankfully Niall’s gate code was still programmed into his phone as well, so he could at least get past the fence without looking like an awkward stalker who shouldn’t be at this residence in the first place.

With all signs that Niall is home and another few phone calls going unanswered, Harry assumes Niall must have fallen asleep early too. He makes his way up to the front door and knocks, then rings the doorbell, then the buzzer and repeats the three for what feels like 30 minutes before giving up. He doesn’t want to yell or cause a disturbance in his neighborhood at now 11pm. So he sits down on the stoop, back up against the door, jetlag already taking over again.

Niall jolts awake with a weird feeling. All the lights are on, his damn shoes are still on and he’s very disoriented at this point, not intending on passing out so early in the day. He goes to check his phone, 11:30pm, and notices the 6 missed called from Harry. Immediate panic shoots through his body. Is something wrong? Did he need me? Oh god I wonder where he is. Am I overreacting?

Despite his hesitation, he decides to just call Harry back. No answer. So he calls again. After the fourth ring with no answer is when Niall really starts to panic. Without thinking he jumps up, grabs his keys from the counter and heads for the door. He flings the front door open so fast he barely has time to process the body thumping at his feet.

Harry is shocked out of his slumber as he flies back and his head smacks down on Niall’s feet.

“Jesus, fuck! Harry what the fuck!?”

Harry rolls over with a loud groan of pain and confusion. “Oh my god” he grunts.

“Harry WHAT the hell” Niall yells.

As Harry continues to writhe around on the stoop, Niall’s demeanor changed. “Har-Harry are you okay? C’mere”. He reached down to gently place his hand under Harry’s head and help him sit up, worried that he smacked his head too hard. Harry finally squints his eyes open to look up at Niall. He doesn’t know if it’s the jet lag delirium or the fact that he banged his head half on Niall’s foot and half on concrete, but he smiles up at the Irishman with a dopey grin and dimple on full display. “Hi.”

Niall is confused but can’t help smiling back. After a moment of innocent affection, Niall’s concern creeps back in. “Are you okay? Really? Need some ice?” Harry’s smile turns into a frown as he remembers his throbbing head and nods, taking Niall’s hands to help him up. In full disclosure, Harry is a total baby when it comes to being sick or hurt. He will take all the love and care that anyone is willing to give him and he will milk that shit like it’s his job. Niall knows, Niall kind of loves it, and Niall acts just like the caretaker Harry wants. “C’mon baker boy” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist to lead him inside.

The name gets Harry to chuckle, lightening the mood. “Baker boy? Really? It’s been nearly 10 years Niall.”

“And yet you still talk about bread, Harold.”

For those few moments it’s like Niall and Harry we’re back in 2015. It felt different than the plane ride earlier which was fueled by alcohol. This time, the comfort was fueled by vulnerability. Something they shared closely between each other, years ago.

Harry laid down on the couch, sinking into the big plushie cushions and trying really hard to block out the memory of what happened on this couch the night Niall moved in. The heated kissing, the touching, the clothes thrown about the kitchen. It was also the one and only time that Harry had stepped foot in this house, other than at this moment. Niall brought over a bag of ice, handing it to Harry along with a pillow to prop his head up. As his mind began to clear up, he decided to take a seat at the other end of the couch. He could feel emotions resurfacing that he wasn’t ready for and did not think was appropriate for the time.

Harry thanked Niall and laid back on the ice, wiggling uncomfortably as the cubes poked the back of his head, but he was grateful for the gesture. Neither of them said another word, sleep taking over both of them yet again after Niall had put the golf channel on the tv for some background noise. As Niall dozed off, he could hear Harry’s labored breathing. Through hooded eyes he took in the sight of Harry’s chocolate curls sticking to the melting ice bag. His lips slightly parted, looking plush but dry, in need of some chapstick. The way his skin was so clear and glowed under the light of the tv. He was just....so....pretty. And with that thought, Niall fell into a deep sleep as well.

Niall awoke to a heavy weight on his stomach and a tickle of hair on his arms. He squinted one eye open in the dim lighting of the room and moved just enough to get Harry’s attention. The lanky boy on top of him groaned a small “mm cold” before readjusting his head to now be on Niall’s crotch and curl his legs up next to him.

“D’you wanna go up to bed?” Niall mumbled. Harry nodded, continuing his “baby” act.

The two of them groaned as they got up, sore from the awkward couch positions and groggy from on and off sleep all day. Harry slung his bag over his shoulder as they trudged up the stairs, coming to the guest bedroom on the right. Niall stopped ahead of Harry. “Sheets are clean, bathrooms on the le—“

“Can I...” Harry began to interrupt. “My uh, my head still hurts.” It didn’t. But Harry didn’t have another excuse to sleep with Niall and he knew Niall wouldn’t deny him the comfort he really needed right now.

“Uh yeah, sure, my rooms down thi—“

“Mhmm I remember” Harry interrupted again with a smug tone. Niall just rolled his eyes and continued on down the echoey hall. With each step Niall began to strip off another article of clothing, desperate to be comfortable in his own bed again and not caring that Harry was right behind him,

“Eager are we?” Harry remarked, watching closely each piece of fabric fall to the floor.

“Oh shut up.” Niall jabbed back, sprinting the last few steps and catapulting himself onto the bed. His head fell back, getting engulfed in the mountain of pillows stacked at the headboard.

“Jesus, Niall. Preparing for a pillow fight or something?”

Niall let out a cackle, pick up the pillow closest to him and chucked it in Harry’s direction. ”Maybe.”

Harry caught the pillow with impressive accuracy and threw it straight back, jumping on the end of the bed and launching Niall’s legs in the air. The two boys burst into a fit of laughter, lazily tossing pillows at each other in the process.

The laughter died down and their eyes began to droop again, but neither of them wanted to sleep another minute.

#narry fic #Niall horan #harry styles #private nights fic #private nights #part 3 #narry #fanfic

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years

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Harry Hook x Blind!Reader - wow

saardeforche7 on wattpad

Heya!! Can u pls do a one shot of you being blind on one eye(or both idk),Harry Hook x reader, would really love that❤❤

There was another request for blind reader x harry that had the reader go to Auradon to get her eyes fixed and shes like ‘my imagination did not do justice’ when she sees harry again, but I can't find that one

The second daughter of the evil queen, the five minute younger sister of Evie, that’s who you were, (h/l) (h/c) hair, a perfect (body type), and would be perfect eyes, but… they were only hazy grey ones.

Your mother had tried to give you perfect blue eyes when you were young, only resulting in blinding you.

You were a secret from most of the isle, only Evie, mother, and Evie's friends knew about you.

Oh, and Harry Hook, your boyfriend.

Now how was he your boyfriend? I'll tell you.

But I’ll start with how you met

----

It was a cold rainy night in fall, you could hear the thunder in the distance, but you didn’t care, reading a carefully brail translated book from Carlos and your sister, which was named -Harry Potter and the sorcerers stone-.

When a rattle started to come from your window, you gasped, turning your head to where the sound was coming from.

“shit, fuck come on ah!” the sound of a boy muttering behind the window was unnerving, the strong accent making it even harder to understand, then the boy got it open, and fell through the opening.

You heard him wince, and the scratch of metal on the floor as the boy stood.

“Alright, now wher-“ he stopped, and you knew he had seen you. You squeaked in fear, stepping back and tripping over a chest with your clothes in it.

“ah!”

You heard the boy curse as you lay on the floor in pain, and you heard his light footsteps walk over to you and hands start to grip your shoulders. You yelped, reaching out with a fist and striking a torso.

“oof!” the boy fell back, wheezing “hey, im trying teh help!”

You huffed, palming around for a sturdy chair to heft yourself up before you felt around metal around one arm and a warm midsized calloused hand around the other, pushing you up.

“There ye go, I didn’t know anyone was up here, only thought the evil queen and her daughter lived up here.”

“well” you whispered shyly carefully stepping away from the boy with a pretty voice. “that’s not a false thought”

You could feel the confusion from the boy before you heard a small gasp. “the rumor~”

You hummed tilting your head at the voice “rumor what rumor?”

“well,” the boy started, which started to move away, presumably rummaging through your things if the shuffling of clothes and jewelry was a sign of anything “there is a rumor goin around the isle that the evil queen had two kids, two daughters to be exact. and that the younger one was locked inside the castle, I got dared teh find out and well…here yeh are”

You sniffed, slightly turning to face the boy's voice “so, what are you doing now exactly?”

“oh um…”

“stealing my stuff I guess?”

“well…yes, yeh gonna stop meh?”

“well I can't exactly” you mumbled awkwardly, fiddling with a worn sleeve of your shirt.

“why?”

You sighed, opening your eyes wide and turning to the voice, and the boy gasped, seeing your gray hazy eyes for the first time.

“im blind”

----

The boy with the pretty voice’s name was Harry, Harry Hook.

It took him a week to earn your trust enough to learn yours.

He was lucky that your mother never caught on to his nightly visits.

He was probably the only reason you were still alive, due to bringing you food each time he visited.

You remember the day evie found out, she was hanging out with you after mother had forbidden a day out after she had not perfected her eyeshadow.

And harry had decided to tumble through the window while she was in your room.

“harry!!! What are you doing here?!” evie screamed, jumping to her feet and placing herself in front of you.

“i-I um” harry stuttered, you could hear the shuffling of his feet, he didn’t expect your sister to be here today.

“go get! I’ll tell mal about this!” “Whatever!” he screamed back at evie, you could hear him grumbling to himself and climbing back out the window.

You heard evie sigh in relief, walk over to the window, slam it closed and lock it, making you flinch.

“how’d he even know about this place anyway?” you stayed silent

“(y/n)?”

You broke

“he's known for about a year?”

“What?!! Wait, you know harry?! How?!”

You spilled everything, from the exact date he discovered your existence to when he started to visit you every night.

You expected evie to permanently lock your window and send jay to hunt harry down. But…she didn’t?

“omg that is soooo cute!!! I never expected harry to act like that!!” you blinked surprised, picturing evie cupping her cheeks and swaying side to side.

“uh, what?” “ohhhh I really hope I didn't scare him off permanently, climbing up our tallest tower every night just to see you! That’s just so romantic~” you choked on your spit

“w-what?”

Eve giggled, taking your hands and stepping closer to you.

“I mean its obvious, he likes you~”

“but-but” you stammered, tilting your head down at your lap. “evie we’re on the isle, that’s dangerous”

“so? If we learned anything from our parent's downfalls, love conquers all~!”

You felt your face heat up and you covered it with your hands. “evie!!!”

“omg a princess and a pirate!! That is the best thing ever!!”

“Evie!!!”

That’s when evie started to try to matchmake you two, but the most she was able to make harry do was give you a necklace.

He gave you his mothers ring on his own.

But that will come up later. Let's talk about how he asked you out.

It was spring, about a year and a half after you met, and he had snuck you out of the tower, through the front door by the way. evie had given him a spare key to the castle (she didn’t want him to fall to his death trying to visit you).

And he took you to a spot with oddly fresh flowers that surrounded you with sents that you’ve never smelled before.

You didn’t see harry pick roses, pink, white, lavender, and red.

He looked at you, your hair ruffling with the cool breeze in the isles oddly greenfield, your grey eyes were hidden by your eyelids, closed as you let yourself daydream of living somewhere else than the isle.

“princess?”

You hummed, looking to Harry's voice. And you felt him grab your hands and carefully place the flowers in your palm.

“Harry?” you whispered, now feeling his hand on your cheek. “um, have Evie tell you what those mean when yeh see her tonight, and then tell me your response tomorrow, okay?”

His accent was thick, probably really nervous. But why? You felt a feather-light pressure on your cheek, and you gasped lightly.

A kiss?

“umm” harry muttered, taking your hand once more, and leading you to a picnic. “you hungry?”

You giggled at Harry's awkward question and nodded, placing the flowers down on your lap, and reaching out for food.

Harry placed a roast beef sandwich in your hand (which was hunted by gil and the bread baked by evie) it was…pretty good!

“mmm! Wow, where’d you?”

“ I had some help getting better food from yer sister”

You hummed happily as you munched on the sandwich.

Two hours later, Harry noticed that it was getting dark and stood, picking up the flowers and placing them in your hand before helping you stand and escort you back to your house.

“This was really fun Harry!”

“im glad yeh had a good time princess” Harry shyly mumbled, a blush settling on his face.

He unlocked the door and carefully guided you to your room, keeping silent as you passed your mothers room.

“goodnight love” Harry whispered, “I’ll see yeh later yeah?”

You softly laughed and nodded, reaching out to grasp Harry's shirt as he began to walk away. “(y/n)?”

You trailed your hand up his chest, feeling his breath hitch as you did so, your fingers ghosted his neck, reaching his jaw and cupping his cheek, feeling his soft lips on your thumb.

“love?” he whispered, ou leaned in, going to the right of Harry's lips and kissing his cheek.

“thank you harry”

You could feel the blush on his face, you smiled and backed into your door. “uhh,-ye-aye yer welcome love- ill just-ill-bye”

You heard harry speed down the stairs and you bit your lip and grasped the flowers and brought them to your chest.

You opened the door and carefully maneuvered around your room. You felt a presence in the room sitting on your bed.

“evie, you may squeal now”

“eeeeee~~~~”

Thankfully she wasn’t loud so she didn’t burst your eardrums.

“Evie! Sensitive ears!”

“sorry but how- omg are those ros- they are!!the colors omg!”

As Evie told you the meaning of the flowers you felt your face becoming hotter and hotter.

‘have evie tell you what those mean when yeh see her tonight, and then tell me your response tomorrow, okay?’

Harry was asking you to be his girlfriend, oh. My. God. Harry was asking you to be his girlfriend.

You squealed along with Evie, careful to keep quiet as not to wake your mother.

You made your decision.

As Harry opened your door, softly calling your name, you grinned and pounced on him. He stumbled back and laughed softly as you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“princess?”

“yes Harry yes”

Harry stopped, his grip loosening on your for a moment before tightening again. “yeh, yeh mean you want to be meh?”

You pulled away from Harry, finding his face and cupping his cheeks feeling heat under your fingertips, smiling in his direction “I would love to be your girlfriend harry”

You heard a soft ‘yes’ from harry and he hugged you tight, spinning you around your room.

So that’s how harry asked you out, and that was four years ago when you were both 12, you had met harry when you were 10.

“(y/n)! come down here!”

You sighed, hearing your mother call for you, you heard a quick set of footsteps come up to you, heels, Evie.

“(y/n) come on, mommy wants to tell us something”

She grasped onto your arms leading down the spiral stairs and into a chair, next to mal, her lavender/ash scent wafting over.

“you five, are going to Auradon tomorrow” maleficent spoke and continued talking about a plan.

But you couldn’t hear anything, panic setting.

Auradon? But harry, you would be leaving harry!!! You didn’t-you wouldn't!!!

“and (y/n), they say they are going to heal your eyes”

Your mind stopped, heal your eyes?

“you might be able to see harry” Evie whispered to you, not letting mother or her friends hear what she said.

See harry? You would be able to really see harry!

---

Evie guided you to the pirate's wharf, taking back alleys and secret doors, you arrived at Harry's apartment that was a little ways from Ursula’s chip shop. She knocked on the door, looking around for threats as you heard heavy steps walk up to the door and stop before the latch was quickly undone and the door was flung open.

“princess?! Evie?!” Harry's strong arms wrapped around you, you remembered when his arms were similar to sticks and pressed you to his chest, you gave a happy hum and wrapped your arms around his built torso.

“what are yeh doing here?! Someone could have-“

“im sorry harry but she needed to see you and it couldn’t wait till tonight”

Harry made a confused noise as he leads you and evie inside, you clutching onto his arm the entire time.

“what happened than yeh needed to see meh so bad (y/n)?” harry asked, helping you sit on his couch, plopping next you.

“um, well”

“shes going to Auradon”

Silence.

“what” Harrys voice went dark.

Evie repeated herself, not caring for Harry's dark tone, knowing it wasn’t aimed at her. “(y/n) is going to Auradon, I am too”

Harry started to rant, standing from the couch and pacing around the room, before you quietly spoke up.

“they say they’ll help me with my eyes.”

Harry stopped, you knew he was looking straight at you, mouth agape.

“what?” he whispered, “mother said that they said they would help me with” you waved your hands in front of your face “these, to help me see”

Harry took a couple minutes to connive him to let you go to Auradon, but he relented when you said “I would finally be able to see you”

Evie had left at that point knowing you would want a moment alone with harry.

“lassie, promise you'll come back for me?” you nodded, reaching out, harry grasped your hands in his and guided them to his face, letting you cup his cheeks.

“I promise, I’ll even have evie write to you”

Harry nodded, taking your right hand and sliding something on it.

A ring.

“I want yeh teh have this love, it was my mothers, and it's now a promise ring” his forehead pressed to yours “a promise that you will come back to meh”

You leaned forward slightly finding Harry's lips and pressing yours to them. Harry's breath stopped, the first kiss.

You pulled away, feeling Harry's stutter breath on your face.

“a promise” you whispered out. Hands intertwining with Harrys.

Three hours later, Harry was escorting you back to the castle, growling at anybody who looked at you.

“here we are my princess”

You giggled, releasing his arm and clutching onto the door handle “thank you, my pirate…will you see me off tomorrow?”

Harry stayed silent, “i-I don’t know, uma or da might be having me do stuff”

You nodded sadly “I understand, well if you are unable to come tomorrow, goodbye harry”

“goodbye my princess”

One last kiss to your forehead and he was off, his heavy footsteps receding on the gravel road.

“I love you” you whispered to the wind, wishing for it to carry your words to harry.

---

He didn’t show up, but you didn’t blame him. if he was leaving, you didn't think you would be able to stomach it.

“im sorry (y/n)” evie whispered to you, helping you into the car

“it's okay” you whispered back, a tear falling from your eye “id do the same.”

You scooted to the back, curling into jays side.

Evie locked eyes with harry across the way, his eyes misty with tears. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ and evie nodded and mouthed back ‘I won't let her forget you’

Harry sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes and walking to the wharf, he didn’t want to see (y/n) drive away from him.

---

That was three agonizing years ago, it had taken a year for your sight to fully return, a stack of returned letters to harry sat on your desk.

Today was vk day, evie was going to the isle, and she was bringing the letters with her to give to harry.

You glanced down at the ruby ring sitting on your finger. It was gorgeous.

And now maybe if harry put in an application, maybe evie would pick him next time, next month.

You knew dizzy would be Evie's first pick, but she promised next vk day Harry would be her pick.

And then the Audrey situation came along.

You were at janes birthday party, laughing with her as chad scrambled to where people were taking selfies.

Then the curse, jane was about to pull you into the water with her, but she missed your arm and you were sent into a deep sleep.

Jane couldn’t bare to leave you there, Evie would kill her, so she mustered up her strength and carried you along with her to Evie's cottage, it was the closest place to the enchanted lake.

When she happened upon Carlos, Jay, and two other boys, who were fighting a beast looking thing, jane set you down and sprayed the beast with enchanted lake water.

It was Ben all along.

Jane had called for jay after he had caught Ben up to speed and had him carry (y/n) to evie cottage, jay picking her up, but taking her over to the hooked boy, which made ben and janes eyebrows raise.

“(y-y/n)!?” the boy called harry whimpered, dropping the silver hook to the floor and snatching (y/n) from jays arms.

“love, princess come on wake up!!” harry was getting hysterical, his eyes gleaming with tears.

Ben blinked confused, looking to Carlos and gesturing to harry and (y/n). Carlos smiled sadly “they were together on the isle” ben nodded.

“harry come on” jay muttered “maybe evie has something to wake her up”

Harry sniffed and nodded turning to where jay was beginning to walk still carrying the asleep (y/n), Gil picked up Harrys hook, then a thought struck him.

“Harry!” Harry's eyes shot toward gil, who was bouncing in place “true loves kiss!!” harry blushed, but nodded.

“um, turn around?”

Gil nodded, grinning, and made the others turn with him.

A wave of multicolored magic passed by them moments later, and gil couldn’t help himself, turned around and saw (y/n) staring wide-eyed at harry, who glanced at gil nervously.

“princess?”

(y/n) sat up, cupping Harry's face in her hands, laughing slightly

“wow” she mumbled, staring into Harry's ocean blue eyes “my imagination did not do you justice”

“yer not” Harry grabbed one of (y/n)s hands and held it “yer not disappointed?”

“hell no” (y/n) smirked, pulling Harry into another kiss.

Jay coughed, making the two reunited lovers glare at him.

“cute, but were kinda on a mission?”

(y/n) and harry sighed, standing and following the group to Evie's castle.

(y/n) and harry not letting go of the other's hand.

---the end---

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harryhook #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #blind reader

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thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Eating Habits Chapter 6: Date Night

I think ‘date night’ might very well be my most used chapter title of them all, but chapter titles have never been my strong suit... Anyway, have an aged-up Adrienette date. Plus some other things.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.

Adrien had gotten home late after another long but enlightening shift at the bakery. Well… relatively late. The hours that a baker worked meant that his bosses were in bed long before most people, but that didn’t matter much when they took advantage of his youth and strength to do the heavy lifting for them. He hadn’t even considered checking his mailbox last night with the bone deep exhaustion he’d felt. The first rays of dawn were only just barely able to wake him.

He threw his legs over the side of his bed and took the time to watch the sunrise through his bedroom window. Another beautiful day in Paris. Even if it was a little chilly in the early October air, the cold had never bothered him as much as they had his lady. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face as he remembered her and slipped his feet into the silly kitty slippers she’d made for him ages ago.

His muscles ached as he stretched, but between his excursions to the gym, the years of superheroing, and the schedule from his youth that had run him ragged, the pain was more than bearable. A warm shower to help relax helped take the edge off the soreness. Now all he needed was some breakfast, and something to distract himself. With those goals in mind, he got dressed and headed into the kitchen, sparing a glance at Plagg. He was still laying on his back, bathed in a sunbeam as one of his legs twitched. Adrien smiled as gently closed the door behind him.

Despite all the classes and his time at the bakery, breakfast was still Adrien’s strong suit. He started to cook up a cheese omelette stuffed with fresh vegetables, paired with some leftover bread he’d taken home from the Dupain-Chengs yesterday. Barely a few minutes had passed before the silence became maddening. Another lingering pain from his childhood, but one that he could easily remedy. A playlist Nino had made for him filled the air and Adrien’s mind cleared.

Halfway through breakfast, he remembered he’d never checked the mail yesterday. Not wanting his food to get cold, he dashed down to the mailroom of the complex and quickly opened his slot. As expected, there was a bundle of letters that he snatched before closing it and running back into his apartment.

He slowly shuffled through them while he ate. Most were worthless spam or worse. One from a modeling agency he’d worked for a month or two ago. Probably either thanking him for the work or pre-emptively asking for him to come back on for the winter lines. Considering his finances were doing alright, he’d likely pass on that and carefully set the letter aside. Reaching the bottom of the pile, he froze.

A familiar type of envelope in the same familiar handwriting of his father.

Everything in him told him it was a bad idea to read it. He never came out of it any better than when he went in. His heart was pounding in his chest and he began sweating. His breathing was ragged as his eyes flew over the page.

They were all the same. Every single one of them. Different words, same meaning.

‘I did what I had to.’

‘This was for YOU.’

‘Our family needed this.’

‘Put yourself in my shoes.’

‘Would you have done any different?’

The words flew past in a blur as his eyes glazed over. Before he could properly read it, a sharp voice drew him out of the downward spiral.

“I’m hungry!” Plagg whined as he flew in front of Adrien’s vision. “I’m wasting away here, kid. I need delicious, gooey camembert NOW.”

A smile tugged at his lips but didn’t reach his eyes as Adrien jolted to his feet to find his kwami’s breakfast.

----

While Adrien was distracted, Plagg narrowed his eyes and faced the letter. He was sorely tempted to just cataclysm it right here and now, to make sure his chosen would never be hurt by it again. But control of their powers had never been the forte of any of the kwami, least of all the kwami of destruction. Deciding that it was only barely not worth ruining the apartment, Plagg batted the letter into the trash. If only he’d had the opportunity to do the same to Gabriel himself.

Adrien returned with a quarter wheel of cheese, which Plagg took to eating with gusto. Adrien frowned as he looked on the counter.

“Hey, Plagg?” The kwami slowly looked up from his breakfast. “Do you know where that letter I was reading went?”

“Somewhere it belonged, I’m sure,” Plagg replied irritatedly. Adrien was about to speak again, so Plagg interrupted him. “So, date night, right? That’ll be something to look forward to.”

Just as expected, a dopey grin crossed Adrien’s face. Plagg could play the boy like a lute. “Yeah, it’ll be great to go out again. We don’t get to go on dates as much as I’d like.”

“That’s ‘cuz you’d want to go on dates every night,” Plagg pointed out.

“True,” Adrien conceded. “But I don’t hear you complaining.” He rested his head on his hands, almost flush with the table, putting him at eye height to Plagg. “Maybe because you have a love bug too that you get to cuddle with, hm?”

Plagg made a gagging sound. “Sugar cube and I don’t cuddle. We are ancient beings from the dawn of time.”

“Really? Curled up into each other like that, you could’ve fooled me. And what, exactly, is it that kwamis call it?”

“...Shut up.”

“And you have pet names for each other! Just like me and Mari. Sounds a lot like you two are dating, you know.”

Plagg slowly turned to Adrien and narrowed his eyes. “Shut. Up.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Plagg. Truce?” Adrien scritched between his ears in just the right way.

Unable to fight his instincts, Plagg purred in spite of himself. Refusing to continue the conversation, he doubled down on eating his cheese. Adrien chuckled and returned to his breakfast.

Despite his denials, Plagg was looking forward to the date night, but for more than just seeing his Tikki. Plagg snuck glances at his charge, but Adrien seemed to be back to his usual peppy self again. He breathed a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted, barely.

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

With how much she’d been pushing herself, it was bound to happen eventually. Late night studying. Early morning classes. Every hour crammed full of work. Between the darkness of the theater, the calm and pleasant movie, and the comfortable shoulder of her boyfriend, Marinette was destined to fail. None of that made it any less mortifying.

Marinette was gently shaken awake by Adrien as the credits rolled. It took a moment for his face to come into focus, but when it did the amusement was plain.

“Rough night, huh?”

She snorted. “More like rough semester.” She wrapped herself around his arm as they walked out, leaning on him as her eyelids grew heavy. Despite her best attempts, she yawned.

She felt him kiss the crown of her head. “My poor, sleepy bug. How about we bail on the restaurant part of our date and just head over to my place?”

Even in her exhausted state she managed a grin. “Why Adrien, you tom cat. And without even buying me dinner first.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “You’ll get your food. I just don’t want you face planting in your plate in public.”

“Oh, so it’s alright when I dive face first into my food, just so long as it's at your apartment?”

“Yes,” he said with a stoic expression. “Then when you drown in soup I will be slightly less embarrassed.”

“Oh, I see,” she deadpanned. “Well, as long as my impending doom isn’t an inconvenience to you.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Their eyes met briefly, but that was enough to break their charade. Both of them broke out into giggles and the conversation passed into a comfortable silence as they made their way to Adrien’s apartment. At which point, she let out another big yawn.

He looked at her with a frown. “You going to make it, lovebug?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “You’re going to have to carry me.” She stuck out her tongue at him and took a step towards the elevator.

Naturally, she didn’t make it much further than the one step since Adrien swept her up into his arms.

She laughed. “I was joking you ridiculous man.”

“Princesses get carried to their towers,” he replied loftily. “I don’t make the rules.”

The strong, independent woman in her wanted to struggle and get down, but the very tired design student who was presently in control simply cuddled closer as she laid her head on his chest. She felt warm and secure and relaxed for the first time in days. She closed her eyes to listen to his heartbeat more clearly.

She must have drifted off since when she opened her eyes, she was laying on his couch. There was a delicious smell in the air that was enough to make her stand up, clutching the blanket Adrien must have draped over her.

He smiled as she approached his kitchen. “Hey bed bug. Done with your cat nap?”

“For now, at least.” She rested her head against his back as he stirred. “What’re you cooking?”

“Potato soup. Straight from your father’s cookbook.”

She hummed happily. “I can’t wait.”

“Take a seat, I’ll pour you a bowl when its done.”

She moved to do so and happened to walk past the garbage can. Her eyes were drawn towards an uncrumpled letter facing up. It wasn’t hard to recognize the writing - years of idolizing the man behind the brand had trained her well. Even if it had been even more years since that particular pedestal had been broken, never to be rebuilt. She cautiously lifted it from the trash and scanned the page. Ladybug levels of singular purpose parted the tired fog of her mind as her anger was stoked.

“Adrien…” Something in her voice caused him to turn around with a frown. When he saw what she was holding, his eyes widened. “...Have you read this?”

“S-some of them.” There was a tenseness to his shoulders that hadn’t been there a moment before. A stiffness to the way he held himself. “Only skimmed that one before… before I lost it.”

Lost it? Sounds like Plagg’s doing. Marinette made a mental note to sneak the little guy even more treats. Then her eyes widened in realization as his words caught up to her brain.

“Wait. ‘Some’ of them? There are others?”

Adrien swallowed and visibly paled.

In a heartbeat, Marinette was beside him, the blanket forgotten as it pooled on the floor behind her. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek and he leaned into her touch gratefully. With her other hand, she grabbed his forearm and squeezed.

“Oh, kitty…”

After a few more deep breaths, he got himself under control. He took the letter and folded it up neatly before stashing it high on his refrigerator.

“So, uh…” He said in a voice that only barely warbled. “Soups ready.”

She knew him well enough to let it lie… for now. Adrien didn’t like being pressed or forced to talk about things, but she trusted him enough to talk in his own time. For now, all she could do was take his mind off of it.

And if that meant chatting over a dinner of soup and then cuddling on the couch for a few hours… she wasn’t about to complain.

-----

It was morning when Marinette woke up. Apparently she’d been picked up yet again since now she found herself in Adrien’s bed, with the man himself nuzzled up underneath her chin.

As much as she wanted to sleep in, a glance at the clock proved that wasn’t likely. She groaned and tried to wriggle out of Adrien’s grasp.

“Nooo…” Adrien moaned into her collarbone. “Stay…”

“You know I’ve got classes, sunshine…”

He raised his head and pleaded at her with those big, green eyes. His bottom lip quivered with overplayed sadness. It was almost enough to break her right there, but sheer stubbornness carried her through this time.

“Nice try, and very cute, but it’s still a no.”

He sighed. “It was worth a shot. What if I drive you into class?”

“I…” She glanced at the clock again. “I’d actually appreciate that, thanks.”

“And if I happened to not have anything else to do today and brought you lunch later… I don’t suppose you’d appreciate that too?”

She tried to pout at him for babying her, but the warm smile he was giving her was proving contagious. Instead, she sighed and rolled out of his arms before walking into his shower room.

His laughter could be heard even through the door. “I didn’t hear a ‘no’, princess!”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Plagg #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #aged up #ml fanfiction #my writing #Eating Habits #The Lucky One series

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charity-angel · 5 years

Text

At the risk of tempting the universe/PTB to throw anything more at me, a brief summary of my weekend (with added background info that I bought my first house 2 months ago):

Saturday morning, arse o’clock: text from my mother saying she is sending my dad over and are there any jobs that need doing?

Yes, quite a few. Chief of which is I want to trace whatever fault means that half1 the spotlights in my kitchen aren’t working.2

Slightly later Saturday, more reasonable time: Dad arrives. Decides that since weather is nice, he's going to repair my back gate. Fair enough - it wasn't on my list, but it will mean I can actually open it whenever I need to rather than wrestling with it.

While helping him: Spot something that annoys me, and I have purchased the means to fix but not got around to actually doing it. The security light comes on no matter what time of day it is. It is currently broad daylight. Decide to amend this. Venture into basement, turn electricity off. Arm self with screwdrivers. Prepare to install switch rather than popping fuse out of wall all the time3.

Bit of swearing later: Fuse panel is off wall, but there is something going on outside. Venture out to find a guy out cold in the street running behind the terrace, with two teenage girls speaking to the 999 operator. As I kneel beside him to try and assess, he starts to come round - enough to say he doesn't want an ambulance. I try to get girls to not relay this to the operator, but they do and it's cancelled. He is CLEARLY still out of it. They hang up, go on their way, and he promptly passes out again.

Remind self of how to put someone into the recovery position. Lament that last time I did this it was a conscious, skinny PGCE student in her early twenties, and this is a grown-ass man who is not surreptitiously helping with the rolling over. I also can't get his hand under his head, so I hold his head up myself instead, while my dad finally decides I've been a while and rings 999 back4.

Takes them a while to get there. I think the call timer is over 20 mins. My back is in spasms, my left leg is going numb and pins & needles-y. The guy has vomited three times (thank fuck I rolled him). Paramedics manage to bring him round a bit - enough to get him to confess he's on methodone.

Ow, fucking ow: Have to go back to doing the electrical work, since the power is off and my dad now needs to charge the drill. Set about attaching the cables to the right bits. Discover that the cabling is too short to reach one of the terminals on the new switch. Fuck. Re-install fuse plate. Turn power back on. Thank whoever is listening that I don't seem to have screwed anything up.

Saturday, 2:45: Lunch. I have frozen bread, and a shit-load of eggs. Scrambled eggs on toast it is.

Maybe 3:15?: Dad sets about re-seating curtain pole in the spare room, with decent rawlplugs so that it will take the weight of the curtain my mum is making for it.

Not long later: That's done with minimal fuss5. Dad muses that could do with putting the rail back on the stairs6.

Couple of minutes later: Persuade him that could actually do with lifting the floor since I'd quite like to be able to see in the kitchen after nightfall, whereas the handrail is a minor inconvenience. We begin.

At this point, it is worth noting that I had tried this myself on Thursday evening only to discover the floor appears to be chipboard rather than floorboards. Also it is worth noting that the carpet was laid and then the skirting boards put down over it.

Half an hour later?: Free enough of the carpet to realise that the bed needs to be moved. And by moved, I mean effectively dismantled.

Another hour?: Bed semi-dismantled and on its side7, room totally rearranged. More skirting boards unscrewed, silicon sealant peeled from the walls, skirtings removed8, carpet screws removed, carpet rolled up as much as possible. We manage to prise one of the bits of chipboard up, only to realise that: a) the original floorboards are still mostly there underneath (although mostly not under this particular bit), and b) the majority of the fucking things have not only been screwed down over the floorboards, but also GLUED. I shit you not. Also that some of the boards extend underneath the plasterboard9 wall

We decide this is a bigger job than us and have to at least put the flooring back down and move things we had moved from there into my room back so I can at least get into bed. We decide not to do anything else as it will only need moving again.

Around 6pm: My poor dad heads home. I discover I have a stray text from my mum about half an hour earlier asking if he's still with me.

Not long later: Run bath. Pour self bowl of tesco's coco pops in lieu of meal I haven't got the spoons to cook.10

Ominous message from mother: She is coming over tomorrow to hang the curtain, and set the spare room right again.

Sunday, about 9am: Ow. Owowowowow. Break out the painkillers. Fuck. Browse AO3 for Rose/Ten fics since I have just binged their season and I have feels, okay?

11:30: Text from mother: she is heading over around 1: do I want anything picking up at the temperance bar since she is going?11

Around 12: Decide should get dressed. Painkillers doing their job. Get clean jeans since she is dragging me out for curtain hoops. I might not drive, but I at least know where I'm going.12

12:15: spot a big, ominous wet patch above my bedroom door that is just about to start dripping. FUCK!

Shove water cup under the impending drip, grab towel and slightly larger container, replace cup. Grab bigger container and head for loft access hatch.

Realise loft access is behind all this shit we moved around in the spare room yesterday. Double fuck. Set about moving it elsewhere so I can get in.

12:30:Ring Dad and ask if he can bring over his big set of stepladders as I suspect I probably could get myself into the attic space13, but would break my neck coming back down. Also I need a torch that is not my phone. He laments that Mum has taken the big car. I call her instead, get her to head home and stock up on essentials (ladders, torch, Dad). I decide to change into yesterday's scruffy jeans since this isn't likely to be a clean job.

About 1-1:15: They arrive, and my dad manoeuvres himself into the attic. This is impressive and just a lot of a dangerous move or two involved. It takes a second person (read: me), which means I have no chance of getting up there myself.

Issue is with the chimney stack and can't actually get a bucket under it. But by the light of my phone14 he can see multiple other issues. Although he does move a slate back into place so I can't see daylight between it and its next-door neighbour. Bless him.

2:15: decide to get some lunch and the curtain hoops. Head into town. Can't park15 Mum decides she isn't hungry, drops us at Costa (it's open, at least) and goes to get the hoops herself.

3-ish: Get back. Sort spare room so it is habitable. Because there is still a drip from my bedroom doorframe, so guess where I'm suddenly sleeping tonight. Hang curtain16.

4-ish: Decide to actually put the handrail back, so we can feel we've at least achieved something useful. This turns out to be a bigger job than anticipated because the fucking plaster keeps falling apart and the rawlplugs won't hold properly. And the ones that will, we don't have screws the right size for. I mean...

5:30-ish: Rail is up. They leave. I run bath as everything is ouch.

7-ish: Can no longer ignore fact that I can hear dripping in the bathroom. Get out while bath is still full to try and work out where the fuck it is coming from. Take side panel off bath17. Not obvious. The outlet pipe has drippy bits all along it. Can't get a container under it. Yay.

Shove microfibre cloth under just to try and contain dripping. Suspect the joint in the pipe where new plumbing has been connected to older is the issue, but seems to be from both bloody ends of the joint piece.

7:45-ish: Drain bath, turn shower on so can wash hair. Little later than anticipated - won't dry properly now18.

tl;dr: I hate my house and everything about it.

1. The half that are on the useful side of the kitchen. You know, where the sink and hob are. The ones that help me do things like cook and wash up after dark.

2. Spotlights embedded into ceilings are clearly one of Crowley's inventions.

3. I am not a qualified electrician, but I have studied electronics at school, been taught on the side by my engineer dad, and I know my limits. Do not do this yourself if you aren't absolutely sure of what you're looking at.

4. Can't do it myself as my battery is dead and, guess what - I've turned the electricity off so I can't charge it. And my landline is cordless, so that needs power too.

5. other than Dad not realising that my ceilings are a little lower than his and going 1 step too high on the ladder. Muppet.

6. I removed this about 2 days after I moved in because of the 4 brackets supposedly securing it to the wall, only 2 actually were. I was more liable to break my neck using it than not. It didn't take me long to realise that while removing it was a 1 woman job, putting it back required more hands. 4 more, as it transpires.

7. Dad manages to hit his head on one of the protruding legs of the bed. I swear...

8. Honestly. They were screwed to the wall and then silicon sealed along the top (and joining edges). The carpet was screwed to the floor under the boards.

9. Drywall, for anyone of an American disposition.

10. Ignore suspicious dripping sound. This turns out to be something of a mistake.

11. Fucking yes, I am almost out of all my cordials. Curse not living near it any more

12. Mostly. One-way systems are a touch tricky when you don't have to obey them. As are bus-only routes.

13. On later reflection, this is incredibly doubtful since I lack the upper body strength to haul myself several feet straight up.

14. Because they brought a curtain and cushions as well as the big stepladder, but not a torch.

15. Also not something I have to think about often.

16. Discover Mum and I have been talking cross-purposes as to which side of the window it is going on. Fortunately this is not a massive issue.

17. Inventory of the under-bath: 2 bags grout, 1 tub of paint, 1 jigsaw piece, 1 part of an old loo roll holder, about 50cm of 1cm diameter dowel, 1 electrical cable that is quite possibly live given that an attempt has been made to insulate it inside a plastic bag. What is not there is the wooden frame that should support the sides of the plastic bath.

18. There are many advantages to the care and maintenance of curly hair. Not being able to blow-dry it is NOT one of them. Not having to, otoh, is.

#random shit #the rl of charity

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alice1290 · 4 years

Text

Read All About It - an Ace/Oc fanfic - Chapter 10

The dining room was packed with crew members eager for dinner. Thatch was a good cook and Ashina was thankful that was something they gained by joining Whitebeard. The spread of meat, bread, roasted vegetables, and sweets that covered the tables was overwhelming. The room was loud, filled with laughter and chatter from multiple conversations. They had slowly begun to make friends with some of their new crew and many of their original members were scattered around the room at various tables.

Ashina sat between Ace and Deuce, and Marco, Thatch, and Izo sat across from them.

“So, Red, any chances of you ditching Fire Fist for a real man?” Thatch teased. He was a shameless flirt, and his favorite pastime was to aggravate Ace by trying to lure her away from him. Seeing as he never hit on her without Ace around, Ashina took it all in fun.

Even though she shot him down, he succeeded every time in making flames appear on Ace’s shoulders. If his comment was lewd enough, his whole back would blaze. This time only small flames danced on Ace’s shoulders. Deuce thought it was hilarious every time and laughed loudly.

“Not gonna happen, Thatch,” she said. Her free hand sliding to grip Ace’s thigh and the other bringing a forkful of carrot to her mouth.

“Damn. Will you still spar with me?”

“Maybe, I like kicking your ass.”

Thatch grinned, and went to say something else but Marco interrupted. “How did you two meet?”

Ace laughed and Ashina turned to scowl at him as he answered, “I ruined her mission and then had to save her.”

“You did not have to save me!” she smarted back.

Ace just grinned. “You were surrounded.”

“And I was doing just fine before you sounded the alarm, Flame Boy. I could have gotten off the island all by myself.”

“No way. Those Marines would have encircled you again just like they did to us at the docks. You needed my help.”

Ashina rolled her eyes. “No, I didn’t, but you keep thinking that Fire Fist. Had you not set a building on fire I would have never been noticed. No need for saving when you’re in and out under the Marine’s noses.”

“Sneaky little thing aren’t you?” Izo said. “And you have Haki. Hmm.”

“Where did you learn to fight, Ace? You possess incredible strength even without your Devil Fruit powers,” Marco asked.

“I grew up in Goa Kingdom with my two brothers, Luffy and Sabo. It was full of huge animals we fought all the time growing up. And Gramps used to drop by every now and then for some really tough training.”

“Gramps?”

“Oh, my grandpa. Garp.”

“Garp the Fist is your grandfather?” Izo half shouted, but no one else seemed to pay any mind to them.

Ace just shrugged. “Yeah, adoptive, but yeah.”

“Damn. No wonder you’re strong. What about you Ashina? Who taught you to fight? You have some wicked martial arts skills.”

“My mother,” she answered Marco.

“Haki?”

“Also, my mother,” she said with a smile. “I learned my sword fighting mostly from my father. We would train together whenever he came to visit.”

“You ever fight with Fire Fist?”

“We’ve spared, but I haven’t tried to kill him.”

“Ah, what?” Ace sputtered.

“Oh come on, Ace. I have Haki, I can touch you even when you turn to flame. I just need to get my arms around your neck and bam, K.O.”

Marco, Deuce, and Izo laughed, but Thatch sat pondering. “You know,” he said after a minute. “I bet she could. She’s quick.” Thatch looked to her seriously. “When we fought, if you hadn’t moved your left foot, then I would never have been able to get the upper hand and pin you. She held her own up until then.”

“Withstood Pop’s Haki blast, too, even if he wasn’t using his full power,” Izo added.

Ashina snorted. “Kind of glad he didn’t. Took a lot to stay on my feet that night.”

“What did you do before you met Ace? He said he interrupted your mission,” Marco mused.

“Oh,” Ashina smiled proudly. “I was a Revolutionary. I’ve trained and learned from some very powerful people the last four years.”

“Well… damn… A Revolutionary Pirate… what’d you know,” Thatch chuckled. “Paired with the Mera Mera user you’re a powerful addition to the crew.”

“The Missus has a high bounty,” Deuce commented.

“Missus?” Thatch screeched, eyes widening. “You’re married!”

Ashina rolled her own eyes, laughing. “No. It’s a nickname the crew gave me, and then part of the shitty epithet the marines came up with.”

“Uh huh.” Thatch looked between her and Ace, scrutinizing, before he finally turned to Marco. “How come the Rookie gets lucky enough to have a missus?”

Marco and Izo just laughed at his expense and eventually Ace, Ashina, and Deuce joined in.

The room was gradually becoming theirs. After a few stops at different islands Ashina had managed to replenish her wardrobe and find a few items to decorate the room. The rest of their belongings were still on the Spadille, which was anchored at the supply island where they had lost the fight to Whitebeard.

New, royal blue bedding covered the bed and a large wood and iron trunk sat at the foot of the bed. Ashina wanted to find another mirror and a new tapestry. They didn’t have window, but the assortment of candles and lanterns lit up the space in a warm glow in the late evening.

Ashina brushed her hair and then slipped on the short nightgown. This one was a pale blue cotton and stopped just below her backside. It was soft and hugged her curves, and she was eager for Ace to see it.

He wasn’t in their room yet, so she slipped on the knee length, pale pink robe. The soft cotton had purple and white flowers stitched along the edges. She tied the sash around her waist and padded out of the room barefoot. Having a feeling she knew where she’d find him, if he wasn’t having a narcoleptic episode somewhere, she headed for the deck. As she neared the bow, she spotted him at the front side, where they used to stand together on the Spadille. His eyes were focused on the star spackled sky, oblivious to Thatch and Marco watching him from around the side of the captain’s quarters.

Ashina strolled past them and headed for Ace. When she reached his side, she leaned in to his warmth and he instantly pulled her closer. His arm stayed around her waist and his fingers made circles on her hip. He held out his other palm, letting a flame dance and grow. She cupped her hands, warming them to his fire, as she leaned further into his chest.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered.

Ashina took her eyes away from the little flame to look into his gray ones. “Yes. I follow you, Ace. No matter what you choose to do. I trust you, Commander,” she purred.

“I’m not a Commander yet,” he replied softly.

She knew it was that choice, the ability to become the Second Division Commander, that kept him awake. “I don’t think you’ve made a bad decision yet.”

The little flame vanished and his warm fingers tilted her head up. He slowly lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. It was tender, gentle, and it said more than any words ever could. He pulled back and his eyes studied hers for a moment before they found the horizon again.

The night was peaceful. The only sounds the waves of the ocean slapping against the side of the ship. It was a steady rhythm, as steady as his heartbeat. Ace took a deep breath and then spoke quietly.

“I want to tell Whitebeard about my father… before I decide to accept the offer.”

“Still want out? Become the Pirate King?”

“Do you want to leave, MIssus?”

Ashina smiled. “I follow you, Flame Boy. If you need to tell him before you decide to accept his offer then do so, but I don’t think we should leave. I would like to get my things off the Spadille one day.”

Ace chuckled and kissed the top of her head. Ashina brought a hand to his cheek and caught his attention. “I’m serious, Ace. I will follow you, and whatever you’re thinking. I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as you think. I trust you, have a little faith in yourself.”

Ashina leaned up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. Her hands slid to his shoulders and his traced her curves slowly, stopping only once they cupped her round backside. She pulled away and gave him a smirk. “Don’t be all night. I’ll be in our room.”

When she passed Marco and Thatch, she cut her eyes over to them, catching their gaze. She gave them a wave and a grin. “Good night, creepers.”

“Ack! I’m not a creeper, yoi!”

When Ace entered the room, it was dark. He brought to life the three candles that sat on the table beside the bed. It illuminated Ashina in a soft glow. Her back was to him and the sheet was tangled around her legs, draped over her thighs. The nightgown bared most of her back to him and his eyes focused on her tattoo. Ace was hyper aware of how many eyes stared at her and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he was a little bit possessive. Ashina was his, she wasn’t his property and he’d never dare to say he owned her, but she was his, just as he was hers. Whatever they were. The flaming spade was a clear indicator that she was with him. The tattoo was almost always visible unless she had to cover it due to the weather, and she hated winter islands.

Ace couldn’t help but smile as he watched her for a moment, quietly toeing out of his boots. He shed his shorts and carefully crawled into the bed with her. Her eyes fluttered open as he pulled her closer to his chest. She looked up and him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“There you are,” she mumbled. Ashina stretched, back arching, before pressing against him, now more awake. “How’d it go? Should we be finding a way off the ship?”

Ace gave her a soft smile. “No, we’re not going anywhere.” He was still shocked by Whitebeard’s reaction to his admission. “He didn’t care, said we were all children of the sea.”

Ashina smiled and kissed the hollow of his throat before moving to look at him. “I told you it was all going to be okay. I knew he wouldn’t care. You aren’t Gol D Roger, Ace. He’s your father, but that’s it. Otherwise, he’s just a man. You are your own person. Your experiences have made you who you are, not him.”

“I’m still the Pirate King’s son.”

Ashina gave a half shrug. “So? I’m a Yonko’s daughter. You share the same blood and he passed down some features. That doesn’t make you him.”

Ace bent his head, kissing the tip of her nose. Ashina giggled softly and burrowed into his chest, pressing herself closer into his warmth. “So,” she whispered, “should I start calling you Commander?”

“It’s not official.”

“It will be. Commander.” She practically purred the title.

Ace smirked as her fingers brushed across his ribs. “Okay, Missus.”

Ashina snorted, digging a finger between his ribs and making him let out a yelp.

“Hey now!”

She giggled and shoved him, rolling him to his back as she laid on his chest, lifting her head to look at him. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder and down his side. The locks glowing ruby in the candlelight.

“What are we going to do with the Spadille?”

It was hard to think as her fingers traced patterns over his chest and shoulders, connecting freckles in the soft light. Ace caught her hand, stilling her motions, and sighed. “Hard to think when you do that.”

“Oh really? I should do it more often then,” she teased.

Ace rolled his eyes and then frowned slightly, thinking of a reply to her question. “We’ll have to burn her I guess, the Spadille, I can’t see her in someone else’s hands. Collect our things and then say goodbye. She was a damn good ship.”

“She was, but I doubt Whitebeard lets you sail her separately. Seems like most of the crew sails together.”

“Yeah. We haven’t sailed far from the island. Maybe we can go back and say goodbye to the Spadille properly. Might be nice to have a huge crew.”

“Might be nice to have a real cook,” she muttered. “Who sails the Grand Line without a real cook? Oh, that’s right, we did.”

Ace chuckled and tipped her head up with his fingers. He opened his mouth to say something but the words died on his lips as her green eyes stared into his. They were a dark emerald in the dim light, swirling with her own emotions that he could not name. The way she looked at him made his stomach flip and his heart race. Instead of words, his mouth slanted over hers and his hand slid from her jaw to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck.

Deuce, Aggie, and Saber carried the last crates off the ship, taking them over to the Moby Dick. Ashina stood near the mast as Ace looked around the deck one more time.

“Ready?” he asked.

“She’s yours. Are you ready, Captain?”

Ace smiled, surprised by her words, Captain he was used to, Commander was still new. Ace reached her side and wrapped his arm around her back, hand resting on her hip. Her arm slid around him and she reached up to kiss his jaw.

“I think so,” he said. “She was a good ship.”

“She was, Cap,” Deuce said, coming up behind them. “Crew’s on the deck of the Moby. Ready when you are.”

Ace nodded to Deuce, who turned back for the much large ship.

“On to new adventures. Thanks for getting us this far.” Ace pressed his hand to the mast and then turned both him and Ashina around.

He pulled her in front of him as they crossed the plank to the Moby Dick. Mihar and Aggie pulled the large plank back with the help of a few of the Second Division men.

“Ready, Commander?” Ashina asked, bringing Ace out of his thoughts as he stared at the Spadille.

Ace looked down at her with a smile and nodded. It was clear now, on the Spadille he had been a captain, but here, on this new leg of their adventure he was a Commander. “Yeah.”

She squeezed his hand and then let go as he stepped forward.

“Shinka: Shiranui,” Ace said, calling forth one of the long fiery lances. He hurled it across distance separating the two ships.

The lance lodged in the deck, just below the mast, the flames sparking and catching the wood on fire. The flames grew and spread, ember’s catching the sails and suddenly the ship was ablaze.

Ashina stepped forward, brushing Ace’s fingers with her own. He gripped her hand in his, holding onto her as they watched the Spadille burn. Their crew, now members of the Second Division, stood with them as they said their silent goodbye.

The celebration was in full swing, complete with copious amount of alcohol and food. Ace was officially the Second Division Commander. Ashina was proud of him. The role of a leader suited him, and the men in his division already respected him. His dream of becoming the Pirate King was shifting, he told her as much, but she thought no less of him. He still had a dream, a goal, and she had hers, and together they would try to accomplish them.

Crew members covered the expansive deck, but Ace kept her close. She didn’t mind the possessiveness. In fact, she rather enjoyed the fact that Ace wanted everyone to know she was with him. They never said it aloud, never called each other words like boyfriend or girlfriend, and Missus was just a nickname, but the feeling was there. The relationship between them was more than just lovers, more than just friends.

There was a quiet pause that caught her attention, pulling her out of her thoughts just before most of the crew around them shouted.

“He fell asleep!”

Ashina laughed, smiling at the freckled man beside her, who was in fact asleep. “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”

Whitebeard’s laughter was joined by several others. The laughter increased after a few minutes when Ace woke up and went right back to eating.

The slightest smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. The sun brought out subtle copper strands of hair scattered in his otherwise dark mop. Without a shirt, the freckles on his broad shoulders stood out as well. Ace noticed her stare and held out the roll that was in his hand to her.

Ashina giggled and shook her head. “No thanks.”

Marco, a full mug of beer in his hand, sat across from them and grinned. “So, Ashina, are you going to get the Whitebeard mark, like your Spade?”

Ace paused in his eating to look over at her, waiting for her reply as well. The remark also caught Thatch and Deuce’s attention, both men looked up from their card game.

“I’m not in a division, nor am I a Whitebeard pirate. I’m a Revolutionary Spade.”

“The Spade pirates joined the Whitebeards,” Thatch commented.

“And? Doesn’t necessarily make me a Whitebeard pirate,” she counted.

“Then what are you?” Ace asked with a smile.

“Commander Ace’s Missus,” Deuce coughed in his hand.

Ashina shot him a glare and then grinned at Ace. “What I’ve always been, Ashina the Red-Haired Revolutionary Spade.”

Pops laughed, having heard their conversation, and chimed in. “I’ve never had a woman on the fighting crew, but you held your own against two of my Commanders. You’ll be in the second division under Commander Ace, Missus Spade,” he said, putting emphasis on the moniker the Marines gave her.

Deuce and Ace howled with laughter. Ashina dared to glare at Whitebeard. “Not funny, Pops.”

“You called him Pops yoi!”

Ashina turned to Marco and arched one brow. “What am I supposed to call him? Whitebeard? Edward? Sir?”

“Pops is fine,” Whitebeard said, catching their attention. “You’re a daughter of Whitebeard if you sail on this ship.”

Ashina caught the older man’s gaze and held it. She could feel the others watching them, several intrigued and a few tense. Ashina’s lips pulled into a grin, but she shot back, “I’ll call you Pops, and sail under your jolly roger, but I still have my own father.”

Whitebeard stared hard, but Ashina did not back down and after a moment he nodded. She expected him to ask her to name him, but surely, he knew. It wasn’t hard to make the connection if you thought about it long enough.

“Your father know you’re here?”

Ashina understood in those words, the meaning behind them and the questioning stare he gave her. Whitebeard was not a stupid man. He knew.

“He knows I’m with Ace. He’ll figure it out soon enough, if he hasn’t already.”

“Will he show up looking for you?”

“Scared?” she teased.

Several of the crew gasped at her comment, but Whitebeard laughed loudly, “Gurararara.”

“If he does it won’t be to fight,” she added. “Well, I guess at least not over me.”

“Who’s your father?” Marco asked.

Ashina grinned and stood from her place beside Ace. “A pirate.”

#READ ALL ABOUT IT #Portgas D. Ace #fire fist ace #Ashina #Missus Spade #Whitebeard Pirates #Marco the Phoenix #Thatch #one piece #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #whitebeard #shirohige

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tatooedlaura-blog · 7 years

Text

Cooking

the series read as follows:

Superman … Monday … Cheezy Pouffs … Bacon … Stumbling … Trail Mix … Punch … Friday … Preparation … Uncle Mudler … Normal … Backseat … Mudler-sense … The FBI … Unthinkable … Patience ... Elephant Jokes

___________________

The next three days were a blur for Scully. She had to leave Mulder home with Maggie as well as the children, scared and scarred but attempting to front with a calm that gave them away as frightened of their own shadows and everything else in the world. The four parents couldn’t get home without paying exorbitant amounts of money and dealing with three days of layover/circuitous route travel so it was Sam, brave heart and soul, whom, that first morning after Scully went to work, spoke for the group, relaying the firm and utterly untrue message of ‘we are fine and we will see you when you get back.”

Maggie watched him deliver his lie to speakerphone-anxious parents, then hang up, tears shining but unfallen as he sniffed hard, turning to regard everyone shorter than him, “we’re gonna stop crying about our parents. They are on vacation and they need it so we’re gonna let them stay on it. Understand?”

Every one of them from four to eight nodded solemnly, wiping tears with small fists and sleeving running noses until they looked ready for the world again, Jake speaking first, “we should make dinner.”

So out of left field with that one that the rest agreed, moving Uncle Mudler bodily into the kitchen and making a list of foods they needed from the store. They searched cupboards and opened cabinets and debated courses and meats and sides and salads and desserts until they were all starving and drooling and desperate for sustenance. They ate PB&J sandwiches before Mulder and the older two trooped to the store, list in hand and concrete promises that they would not deviate without the sole and express permission of the other three by way of phone call.

Then they cooked, mashed, steamed, buttered, salted, baked and boiled until the entire house smelled delectable and Toby decided that Aunt Dana should come home right then so she could smell the food and eat with them. Mulder gently told him there was a good chance she wouldn’t be home for several days so he instead asked to call her and let her know what they’d made for dinner. It was then that he popped Toby up on the counter to look him square in the eye, as all men do, “if we call her right now and tell her we made pot roast and smashed potatoes and garlic bread, she will immediately quit her job and come home to dinner and eat it all and we will get none. How about we make her a plate and if she gets home tonight and you’re awake, you can help me heat it up for her; otherwise, she’ll have it whenever she gets here.”

Toby accepted this and nodded, sliding down to the floor and going to inform the rest of them that they had to save Aunt Dana a plate.

Mulder hung his head for a moment, hands firmly on the counter holding him, floor staring up cheerfully with its polished shine that defied the hundreds of feet that passed over it daily. Toby wasn’t the only one who wanted to call her.

&&&&&&&&&&

He was exhausted by the end of the evening, helping Maggie, bathing small children, telling non-scary stories to them all before finally getting them to remain in their own beds, upstairs and together, with bribes of stacked pancakes and bacon in the morning. One ear on the sleepers, he pulled open the sofa bed, then sat down, lacking will and energy to do more than stare at the wall for several minutes before finally losing the battle.

Picking up the house phone, he dialed her, wondering which Scully would answer.

“Hi.”

That threw him off immediately, “Scully?”

As she stood in the locker room, forehead against the cool metal of her temporary clothes keeper, looking down at her messy scrubs and stained shoes, “tell me again why I’m a doctor who works for the FBI?”

His voice, tired, strong, satin, soothing, “because you are you and love your job 99% of the time.”

Normally, she held it together just fine, tornadoes, flesh-eaters, homicidal cats, weirdest shit in the history of the world but that second in time, connected only by sound and not touch, she wavered, words cracked, syllables quavered, “I want a hug.”

He fought the urge to get in the car, muscles coiled to drive, foot already pressing the accelerator, “I can’t come down to give you one … I’m sorry.”

She could hear the anguish in his voice at not being able to give her what she asked and it made her feel a modicum better, knowing he would if he had any means possible, “it’s okay. I know you can’t leave right now.” Turning, she sat on the wooden bench between rows, “tell me something good from today instead.”

Mulder, in racking brain fashion, took a moment to unearth something, anything, to make her smile, “Hannah discovered that if you tickle Toby just as he’s breathing in, he belches.”

Her laugh echoed, bouncing off silent walls, giving her enough of a boost not to cry the rest of her life away, “how did she discover that?”

“Total accident. I finally had to make them stop before Toby booted all over the countertop.”

“Booted?”

“Puked, vomited, heaved, tossed cookies, I’m branching out with my verbs, don’t fence me in.”

“Did you give them all hugs from me?” She craved any news of home, anything not related to burned flesh and dead friends, “did you get them all to sleep upstairs or are they down with you still?” Mulder answered, continuing the conversation for another ten minutes until Scully interrupted him, “hang on.” Coming back on the line a second later, “that was the tech saying the room is clean and …”

Her trailing off told him the next victim was on the table and she had to go back to work, “I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow morning. Maybe bring you some breakfast if you’d like.”

The thought of food turned her stomach and wincing, “how about another phone call if I’m not home yet? I don’t know that I can handle actual food right now.”

“Maybe I’ll just bring you some more crackers and yogurt?”

She’d packed a cooler full of them that morning, eating only when her body told her it was calories or collapse, “I’d like that and I love you, too.”

He wanted to ask who she’d identified so far but his heart couldn’t take it, not this late in the evening so he left it hanging there, the question floating aimlessly in the atmosphere, to be plucked down and answered sometime in the future.

Scully heard the unasked, “g’night, Mulder.”

“’Night, Scully.”

&&&&&&&&&

He didn’t sleep, listening for nightmares from all corners of the house, anticipation driving away rest, a blurry-eyed, clumsy Mulder welcoming the day and somewhat better rested children at 7am.

He burned the pancakes.

He undercooked the bacon.

He spilled the milk and dropped the plates.

He tripped the Sam.

He elbowed the Betsy.

He felt so bad he gave them all brownies for dessert and vowed to take them to the movies for double features and extra large popcorns.

Sam patted him on the back and told him to go take a nap, that he would get the dishes done and after Maggie volunteered to spearhead any and all activities for the next few hours, Mulder crashed on Scully’s old bed upstairs, Sam’s presently, snoring before he hit the sheets.

&&&&&&&&&

That second night, around eight, with children tired and yawning, with Maggie insisting and Betty prodding, he packed up food and headed out into the night.

Scully sat quietly against the wall, hidden from view, head back, eyes closed, nearly feeling bad about her television doctor cliché posture and expression but nearly wasn’t enough and since she opted not to give a shit about her appearance after 48 hours straight of identifying bodies, she remained in the dark, wallowing in misery-filled solitude.

Until large, gym shoe ensconced feet appeared in front of her, shoes at the end of skinny legs and low-riding white socks. Crouching Mulder came into view a moment later, stack of Tupperware settling on the floor, hand moving to grip her knee, eyes sad, worried, concerned, take your descriptive pick, whispering into her forehead as he leaned into her, “the kids made you dinner.”

That, of all things, made her cry. Just one solitary tear but still, she swiped angrily at it, reminding Mulder of her nieces and nephews, “they made me dinner?”

“You didn’t get to eat what they made yesterday so they cooked again today and said I had to bring it to you. Maggie and Betty joined in and the pressure was too much and here I am. I left your mom in charge with Betty as backup so I imagine there’ll be a card party going in about 10 minutes.” He could see the second tear revving up at the thought of home and ignoring food and passers-by, he sat down beside her, pulling head to shoulder, lips grazing hair, remaining against her, warm breath into crown of head, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier.”

Shifting, she disregarded the cold tile and scooted until she was lying with her head on his thigh, dirty floor be damned, “I’m so tired, Mulder.”

Hand now on shoulder, he rubbed his thumb over the roundness, trailing her collar bone every so often, “do you want to go find a couch or something to lay down on?”

No answer came.

And he sat patiently … unmoving … unruffled … unapologetic … to the few weary technicians and personnel that walked quietly by, several whispering offers of a futon down the hall or a spare pullout bed but he declined, murmuring back that they were just fine.

#littles cooking who could resist #msr #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #Life part 2 series #My writing #unmoved unruffled unapologetic

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imagine-wannaone · 7 years

Text

Yoon Jisung Royalty Au

Y’all really love Jisung and honestly, same.

•You love life in the city, • You grew up moving back and forth between the hustle and bustle of the city and to your family’s farms in a small village in the country, so yanno, an equal balance, • But yeah, you decided to start a buissness in the city after years of internal debate and struggle ™ (because decision making is hard and scary okay), • Because whilst growing up you had strong tactics in making friends: • Baked goods. • 10/10 good thinking, well done. • Because you moved back and forth, it was kinda hard to maintain friendships? • So you did what any wise 9 year old would do: • Bought their friendship (Probably didn’t have to but you likes making cakes anyway so eh), • No, seriously though, people then understood you were really friendly and kind, and it was always good with old friends because it was like a ‘sorry you haven’t seen me in 6 months but look I have pastries’ • So, baking was like a safety blanket with good connotations, and you were seriously awesome at it. • Family recipe? Pffft, you made the family recipe. • So what better investment than a small bakery in the city? • People in the city missed the home cooked feeling you could bake and if business was quiet you could people-watch through the glass front, the royal palace nearby drawing in lots of tourism, • So you make your cakes and chat with regulars in your dainty little bakery, aesthetic goals, • You’re slipping some warm cookies into the glass showcase that you use as your counter when your bell jingles, telling you that you have your first customer, • You smile at the man sliding through your pastel blue door; he’s elegant looking, clean, and you can feel his aura instantly, holding himself well, • His face is covered with a mask, a common accessory, especially in the colder weather, and a bobble hat pulled down adorably all the way down, so you can’t see much of his face, • Although his eyes seem somehow piercing, they’re warm and gentle looking and you can tell the man in front of you can’t be much older than yourself, • You greet him and then make yourself look busy with some cinnamon buns so he doesn’t feel any pressure to buy anything, • “Have you had this place long?” • His voice makes you jump, and you laugh at yourself for being so skittish, but the man’s voice is smooth and oddly familiar, • “Only around 9 months, but I’ve been baking since I was small,” • You see his eyes crease, indicating a smile that warms your heart, • “I enjoy cooking but I never get the time to do so,” • You take your time in appreciating how he pronounces every syllable of what he says, making him sound like he means every word, • You have a feeling he could say 'shrek is a cinematic masterpiece’ and you’d believe him whole heartedly, • “That’s sad, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what stops you? You should be able to do what makes you happy,” • “I have a family business which makes time quite scarce, and I do not entirely know how to make anything as complex as these chocolate cookies,” his tone is quite and almost sorrowful, but lilts upwards at the end, joking, • You can’t hold back the giggle that escapes your lips, although his words hang slightly on your heart, • You push the sliding door open and scoop 4 of the large chocolate cookies into a paper bag, taping down the top with a flourish and presenting it to the man with an exaggerated bow, as if he was royalty, • *nervous laughter* • The man behind the counter starts searching his pockets, but you cross your arms with a soft smile, • “Free for such a lovely first customer,” • He begins to refuse but you sigh and lightly push his hands away from searching his pocket, • Because you’re nothing but bold AmIRight, • His hands are covered in some black silk gloves, a clue that keys in with his speech that this man may be of higher class, • Despite the gloves, his warmth radiates through them and sends a small shiver up your back, • (Someone walking over your grave my ass), • “Listen, if you can’t do what you enjoy, you should at least get to enjoy the finished product,” • The man looks reluctant as you watch something shift in his coffee coloured eyes, but nods anyway, • And that is not the last encounter with this regal man, • He starts to come every other day, making his way through your whole menu, and the two of you becoming casual friends, • You have a habit of watching his eyes, desperate for any type emotion you can read, • You always have the radio on and if there’s no customers you’ll dance and, on rare occasions, get the man to do a jig with you, he swirls you around and it takes an extra 5 seconds for you heart to stop spinning, • You test new bakes on him, and you can always count on him to tell you the honest truth, • You hug him spur of the moment sometimes, When he comes into the shop or helps you in any way, • Self control, what’s that? •He always freezes at first and then melts into you, wrapping one arm around you, • If he ever has a minute of spare time he’ll people-watch with you, • His shady and sassy comments always make you crack up, • “Those kids running, they have not yet experienced the cruel world,” • “Jisung they look to be 6, I hope they haven’t,” • or • “ That dog looks to have more swag than you, Y/N,” • So yeah you develop a slight crush on this complete stranger, • Who suspiciously has never taken his mask off but you don’t pressure him, • But tbh how couldn’t you fall for this guy, • Jisung, • He obviously thought the name Jisung was common enough not to raise suspicions about who he was but, • It’s when he tells you his name that you put the pieces together, • Expensive clothes, articulate, little time to himself because of his 'family business’, always covering his face, • Jisung is the name of one of your country’s princes, to be particular, the one who will inherit the throne, the oldest of 11, • And then you start realising things, • How much Jisung composes himself, and how precious the moments he lets himself go are, • Grace and elegance seem to be drilled into him, • His eyes seem to be wise beyond his years, observing and omniscient, the way they track you with a caring sheen making you trip over your own feet, • The way his eyes take in every detail about your baked goods and cozy little shop, • How he always seems to take deep breaths, inhaling the sweet smell of cooked bread that you always have in your store, • Because how could you be a bakery without having that classic smell™, • And how he always seems to buzz and relax in your shop, in the early hours of the day before any customers will arrive, how much softer he is in your shop than he ever is on TV or at royal gatherings or in public, • Upon your discovery, yeah, you have a mini mental breakdown because you’ve been chatting to the future king so casually and he likes your pastries!!!!! • But you don’t tell him you found out, or act differently, because if he wanted you to know he’d tell you, • But man have you fallen head over heels for this gentle, regal Jisung, • “I was thinking, whenever you have the tiniest amount of spare time, head right here. I’ll show you how to bake those brownies you always eye up as if they offer you the answer to your dreams,” • Oh boy, does your heart do the pla dunk when you ask him, trying not to sound awkward or desperate, • But at this point, do you really care? Jisung will judge you anyway, • He laughs and your heart soars because YOU could make that melodic sound come to life, • The next morning when your bell dingles, and your heart warms like always when in Jisung’s aura, • “I thought I’d take you up on your offer,” • Jisung’s stood at the door, an apron in hand and you laugh as he ties it over his jumper, •One of the superman aprons, he’d obviously seen before that you had the wonder woman one, •" But, uh, Y/N, I have something to, ah, tell you?“ He seems nervous, shifty and a little jittery before he pulls himself together to stand tall and confident, probably what he’d been taught to do, before leaning forward onto the counter, • "Would it, perhaps be, I don’t know, the fact that you’re Prince Yoon Jisung, the nation’s cutie?” • You also lean forward in your counter, your faces closer than predicted, but you use all of your willpower, • A l l of your will power, • To focus on Jisung’s reaction, • His eyebrows shoot to the sky and he straightens immediately in surprise, • “What, y-you knew?” • “Us commoners aren’t that slow, Jisung,” You tease, pulling at his mask and nabbing his hat to slide into your own head, grinning at him, the low light bouncing off his chocolate hair, matching his eyes, • It takes a solid 15 minutes for you to stop giggling at the amount of shocked questions Jisung fires at you, and he seems incredibly revealed you haven’t changed the way you act around him, • But then he admits he wants to bake with you, • And Ho Boy, who are you to refuse a man of achieving his dreams? • So you’re showing Jisung how to make your secret recipe chocolate orange and lime cupcakes (it works with the magic of your hands trust me) when Jisung kinda just stops stirring and just stares at you, • And your like bruh have I got it on my face? I mean you aren’t complaining about the attention but you’re v on edge at his open staring, • “I’m to inherit this whole country, but all I want to do is spend the rest of my days in this bakery with you Y/N, and I can’t bring myself to care that that’s wrong,” • What’s this? You’ve flat lined? Me too bro, me too, • “Everyone’s allowed to have a dream Jisung,” • You smile through your radiating red cheeks and heart that doesn’t want to beat to the right rhythm, • “What if it didn’t have to be a dream, Y/N, would you let me stay here? With you?” • Tbh, you don’t even need to say anything, that soft smile is all he needs, • But through this whole conversation, he has some chocolate mix resting on the corner of his lips and yes this is very important and heart racing but the chOcOlAte MiX Is DisTRacTinG, • So you lean forward to kiss him, the icing seemingly melting into the kiss as well as the two of you, • It’s sweet, quite literally, and slow and exactly like a prince charming, • His hands skim your back and you drape your arms over his shoulders and his hair’s damn soft and there’s fireworks, • It all sorta tumbles from then on, • Jisung has many, many, m a n y negotiations with his family about what he wants to do, • Upside to having 10 brother’s, at least one of them won’t mind taking the throne instead, • And the king and queen are understanding and you pretend not to know they’re a little pissed atm about all the hassle for your own health if nothing else,(They love you after a while dw), • News of Jisung sorta stepping down from royalty to co own a tiny bakery spreads like wild fire and the bakery is swarmed with press and people and pure hell, and some people think it’s cute and your adorable but some think you’re a gold digger and he shouldn’t step down from royalty for something so stupid,

• Honestly it’s a lot to take in and there are several emotional points where you question whether this was the right idea but then Jisung walks over to you with some new cookies, warm heart and comforting words and everything’s okay, • but within a year it’s died down, although you definitely still get some press or whatever it’s not so bad, • You meet Jisungs’ brothers, which is an adventure™ oh boy, and your family all swoon for Jisungs’ proper manners and royal charm and at first you feel incredibly judged by the king and queen but then you settle down and everything’s calm,

• Then one day you realize you’re a flippin’ princess! You visit the royal palace and are in love with a prince and this is definitely not how you planned your life but can you complain? • And most importantly, the two of you sell the best cinnabons in the country partly due to the fact you’re both cinnamon rolls, okay? So soft and sweet.

#yoon jisung #jisung #wanna one #produce 101mpd 101 #broduce 101 #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #headcanon #cute #royalty au #scenario #oneshot #imagine #og admin

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