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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

call me babydoll | reader x chan

soooo shhhh this actually a part one shhhh but i’m just trying out writing out different things and getting out some of my ideas outta my head that i’m really excited about, this one being one of them!! for now...just pretend that this is just a regular ol’ drabble hehehehe. this part is the set-up chapter (shhh i mean drabble)

One

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan

Genre: fluff, smut, and angst

Tags: (overall) bodyguard au, moderndayprince!chan, bodyguard!reader, secret agent au, royal au, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, softswitch!chan, hardswitch!reader, some skz side characters, jeongin third wheel and comedic relief LOL, travelling, chan being expensive and having a lil bit of a superiority complex, flirtyyyy chan, bits of mystery, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, idk think like 007 vibes hehe

CWs: guns and gun violence, a shooting in a ballroom, mentions of blood

Word count: 4.6k

Parts

ONE | TWO

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here early.”

“Well, expect the unexpected.”

“Don’t turn the motto back at me. I’m sick of hearing it so many damn times.”

“What? You and I both know that it’s true. You’re here early too, so, technically you don’t get to say anything.”

Jeongin straightened his bow tie, then patted down the sides of his perfectly ironed tux with not a crinkle to be found. Knowing him, it was a miracle that he hadn’t messed it up in some form yet. He promptly took out his pocket square to clean off his glasses.

“You’re looking nice. Seems like they don’t mind spending money now on you these days.” He blew off the flecks of dust on his lenses.

“They know that they get their return on their investment. And thank you.”

You smoothed down the sides of your dusty pink dress that nearly went all the way down to your ankles. Had you any other choice, it would’ve been something different, but, dresses were really good at hiding your thigh holster compared to the slacks you usually favored. You didn’t mind the times that you would have to put on a pretty dress, it somewhat reminded you that there was normal life outside of your job. Not to mention, they had started sending you jewelry as well. You always had liked the look of a diamond necklace.

“You do your research for tonight?”

Jeongin nodded, then took from his pocket his phone to read over the details.

“I’ve done a background check on everyone attending, we shouldn’t have any issues. It’s already a low risk event anyway. Charity is never something to get too worked up over, but, you never know with the detail that some of these people come with...who they might be tied to...”

“--The only people we can trust is ourselves.” You nodded with arms crossed.

“Expect the unexpected, I know.” He slid his phone back into his inside suit pocket to adjust his cufflinks.

“--Nervous?” You took note of his fidgeting actions.

“Nervous? No. I’ve been through this before. You know that.”

You flicked your partner right on his forehead strung with his white hair. You had really wished that he had picked a less conspicuous color, but he had strings to pull that you didn’t.

Jeongin cleared his throat, “You do your once over?”

“Do you even need to ask? I did it hours ago and when we arrived. You know that I’ve done this before too.”

“I know. I know.”

Jeongin looked out at the vast circular atrium that made up the center of the hotel. Several stories down under the glass rooftop, you could hear the faint sprinkling of the intricate fountain which smelled of copper. A bit further down, you could see the tips of the tree branches from the indoor landscaping. Across the way, a door slammed with residents tucking in their ties. The two men you had recognized from the roster: a simple thing which made you feel at ease. Your young partner must’ve started to have an effect on you. A sense of unease seemed to quell in your neck. You always listened to your hunches.

“W-what do you think he thinks of us?” Jeongin broke the silence.

“Well,” From inside the room you had waited outside, you could hear his distant murmuring, so you lowered your tone. “I think that he has yet to trust us. It’s only been a few weeks. He doesn’t seem like the kind to give himself up easy. That, and I’m sure his resentment of his father must have some influence.”

“You think he hates us?”

“I think he hates his father for hiring us. I mean, wouldn’t you? His old security detail, he had them for years.”

“I guess so. But, we’re not like his old detail.”

“No. We’re not. I don’t think he gets that yet. I think he sees us as one more way his father has a hold on him.”

“It’s not like he can do much else about it when his dad’s a kin--”

“--No, no, thank you, really, it’s lovely. Some of your best work. Thank you.”

Chan swung open the door to his room, stopping Jeongin right in his sentence.

“Ah. You’re here already. That’s...punctual.”

As dazzling and showy as ever, Chan looking nothing short of a magazine model. For a prince, he had certain...appearances that he had to maintain. Today, it was a velvety and maroon suit jacket with a white button up. On the collar, two matching brooches had been perfectly placed, and they were silver like moonlight in the shape of English ivy and adorned with diamonds. On his lapel, he wore the royal insignia of the lion and the wolf. Behind him, you could see his slew of stylists cleaning up their makeup kits and obscene assortment of designer dress shoes for him to pick from. You had thought before that he even smelled like royalty: stuffy white roses with a hint of priceless cognac.

Jeongin bowed his head respectfully. “Everything has been prepared for tonight. The rest of your guards are surrounding the building, and I’ll be corresponding with them as needed, your Highness.” He tapped at his earpiece.

Chan drew his attention over to you, giving you a rather lusty glare. Over the past couple weeks, you had gotten used to it. He was a prince to every extent of the word. If there was anything that he had wanted, he simply had to ask. It drove him insane that all he could do was merely look at you. You had wondered if he harbored anything else for you besides the way that he would devour the curves of your shoulders and hips.

“Fox. Bee. You look nice tonight. I like seeing you dressed up. Makes me feel less out of place.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little sound of discontentment over his rather affectionate nickname for you. You and your partner had been introduced to him as F and B. Quickly he had figured out Jeongin’s codename as Fox, considering that he had done a poor job picking out one that wasn’t related to him at all. Anyone could tell that boy was fox-like, and he also just wasn’t that creative when it came to picking out a name for himself. B, or Bee as he had decided, was your name; as in bumblebee. After learning about Fox, he figured that there was an animal theme going, so Bee seemed to fit best in his oponion.

You tested his glare with your best, “Thank you, your Highness.”

Jeongin gulped. “Your assistant should be waiting downstairs with your itinerary. She told me that you should meet her first off.”

“You work too hard F. Have some fun tonight, hm? But don’t...drink too much. You’re responsible for my life remember?” Chan clapped his bodyguard on the back.

Your partner nervously laughed and adjusted his glasses once more: his preferred tic.

“And Bee?” Chan rose a brow to lean into close and whisper. “Stay close, alright?”

“Of course, your Highness.”

Chan let out a little scoff after getting one more proper look at your frame. “Damn. You really are stunning. Just a little too dangerous for me though.”

You rolled your eyes, dishing him outa, “Whatever you say, your Highness.”

Jeongin threw you and annoyed glare before tracing after Chan as he sauntered down the hall to the glass elevator.

“Bee? You coming? Or do you have something better to do?” Chan’s voice called down the hall with an echo and a little teasing gesture of his hand.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It had been seven years since you had chosen this line of work, and each time that you had to go to one of these things, you hated them more and more. Not because they were hard to control--they were easy--but you just hated how many superficial and self-absorbed people that they could fit into one room.

The air was filled with the scent of champagne bubbles and too much Chanel No. 5. From corner to corner of the room, and even next to the ice sculpture of the lion and the wolf crest, silk, satin; velvet and the best cotton could be found. Long gloves covered the arms of ladies with wrinkling skin, and tweed vests held in the guts of men who indulged in their food just as much as their mistresses. All this effort just to appear as if they had given one care about the philanthropic efforts of the royalty.

Several neatly dressed waiters passed you with golden platters of hors d'oeuvres made of ingredients so expensive, they would’ve cost the same amount as the generous donations made by the attendees. If you could’ve, you would’ve scooped up as many of them as you could, just to eat all of their copious amounts of money yourself, but, there was somewhere a rule that you had to keep your hand to yourself when you were on duty. The best that you had to look forward too was take-out to eat at 3 in the morning with Jeongin later.

Buzzing chatter filled your earpiece while each of the additional guards gave their hourly report.

“Damn. It’s fucking colder out here than I thought. It’s fucking summer.” One of them joked to the tune of the other guards laughter.

“Stay focused.” Jeongin scolded over the line. “Don’t leave your posts until your shifts change.”

While he was a timid man, Jeongin was not one to mess around. Son of the director, he knew that he had big shoes to fill. After pleading for years for her to admit him into the academy, she had agreed. Everyone knew the reason why she didn’t want him in this line of work. Too many dead. Too many missing. In some ways, he was also yours to look after.

You trailed after Chan who was busy talking to his assistant and his publicist. While he nodded at their words, you knew that he must’ve been barely listening. Chan never really was one for formality, but much rather enjoyed simplicity and pleasure. Jeongin and you had somewhat of a bet going: out of all the guests, you had liked to bet which one he would take with him to his bedroom. Since you had all the profiles of the guests, you liked to bet a little money on which one it would be.

Jeongin had guessed it to be the heiress and daughter of a tycoon who had made a multi-million won donation in the name of his company. It was ironic; his very company was a big-scale pollutor who liked to make nice with the crown. She was conventionally very pretty: long legs, a thin frame, she was educated and looked as if she could hold somewhat of a conversation...not like that mattered to him.

You had predicted it to be the foreign CEO who had just started business dealings with the crown. While she might’ve looked a bit stuck-up and prim, she was intimidating, and a challenge. Chan loved challenges. Chan also had a pension for pretty boys with a bit too much money on their hands--usually inherited--and with nothing much else to do other than dote on him. There were plenty of those attending the gala tonight.

Chan snaked through the crowd, bowing his head at all of the Good evening, your Highnesses and the It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Highnesses. Every few moments or so he would take a bite from a golden plate and then pop it into his mouth. The whole night long, he would hold his glass with him and it would get refilled for him without him even needing to ask. You sometimes liked to pretend that in some places, they must’ve assigned someone to watch him from afar to make sure that he would never need anything before it was given to him. It wouldn’t have surprised you.

“Having fun Bee?” Chan languidly rolled his head back, swirling his glass.

“As much fun as you are.” You quipped.

“Anything that I should be concerned about?”

“Nothing of concern.” You stated matter-of-factly. Had you matched his flirting tone, you knew that you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night. “Fox. Report?”

“Nothing that I can see. No one has been tagging you.” Jeongin had staked himself up on the upper balcony of the banquet hall room, and had been watching for as long as you had been following after the prince. “You sensing anything strange?” His voice tickled in your in-ear.

“Just a bunch of the normal crowd.” You kept your tone down low. “He’s rubbing noses with the usual. You’ve seen too?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

You followed Chan to his seat nearest the front of the room which had been fashioned into a stage with a clear glass podium in the center. Right in front there was one more crest decorating it. Chan had ensured it to be so: he had wanted everyone to know that this was all for his charity.

“It seems like our bets aren’t working out. He hasn’t talked to either of the...suspects.” Your partner changed his choice of words knowing that the other guards were listening.

From the opposite side of the room both the heiress and the CEO stood with thin glasses of wine in their lithe hands. Chan had in fact walked right past them, and didn’t even notice.

“Tonight is going to be a long night.” Jeongin sighed over the line.

You politely pushed past attendees with a raised hand and a sweet smile. You had found that when you smiled, you had appeared less intimidating.

“Oh wait...what’s this?”

“What?” You whipped your head around after Jeongin’s interjection. “What? Do you see something? What’s the call?”

“Relax! It just looks like he’s approaching someone he wants to talk to. I think both of us are about to be proven wrong.”

“Ah, shit.” You sighed. “Don’t put me on edge like that.”

“I’m only trying to entertain myself.”

“Name. Who is it? You’ve got the roster.”

You partner was quiet for a minute, and you watched from a distance as Chan approached the man leaned over a martini seated at one of the perfectly decorated tables.

“Uh, I think that he’s Lee Minho. Some kind of royalty from somewhere else. Pretty low ranking from the looks of it. I think that he made a donation himself...and it’s...damn, larger than you would expect.”

“Should we be concerned?”

“No. Seems harmless.”

“Thank you for coming,” You made out the words that Chan had mouthed. He drew a chair next to the unknown man.

From what you could tell, Lee Minho was handsome to the full extent of the word: nearly all of his physical features were exemplary and his suit appeared to have been fitted to perfect for him; likely one of a kind. He too wore an insignia on his lapel, but it was one that you hadn’t recognized before. He had immaculately styled hair that had some kind of rebellious and boyish charm to it. The man had a kind of mystery about him too: you had been able to pride yourself in being able to read people, and it had saved your life on more than one occasion. But with him, there was something that you couldn’t place.

“Do they know eachother?” You asked Jeongin.

“Not that I know of. School friend maybe? Seems like all the royals send their kids to the same schools.”

“Hm. That would make sense.”

“Enjoying yourself?” Chan said.

Lee Minho nodded, and rose his glass to clink it with the prince’s.

“Do we think that he’s our...suspect?”

The stranger dipped his head into his hand as he listened to Chan speak. A flirty gesture that you had seen a hundred times or more. Still, the way that he inspected Chan, it wasn’t adoring. Or at least, you didn’t think that it was.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“What the hell are you yapping about?” One of the other guards snapped over the line.

“Um, classified stuff.” Jeongin quickly explained. “Above your paygrade. Don’t worry about it.”

“Fox. Watch out for him tonight.” You snuck over to a corner of the room where you could watch the two of them more discreetly.

“Affirmative....” Your partner paused. “Babydoll.”

“Pffff--Babydoll??” The same guard stifled his laughter. “You call her Babydoll, Fox? Damn, you all must be closer than I thought. Didn’t know that I was missing out on some of the action--”

“--Ever heard of a codename, Three?”

“Babydoll’s her codename.”

A grin crept over your lips. “Expect the unexpected.”

You had almost gotten distracted enough to miss how Lee Minho had leaned over to whisper something into the prince’s ear. After he had done so, Chan laughed out a little, then reached his arm around the other man’s chair comfortably.

“They’re...cozy.” You updated your partner.

“I’m trying to cross-check where he might know him from.”

Chan’s assistant and publicist finally slipped away with giddy little smiles. In many ways, you were jealous of them. They could leave whenever the wanted, eat what they wanted...

Jeongin scoffed. “Well, turns out...nothing. I can’t find anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Negative. I’m not seeing any crossover.”

“So they really are strangers?”

Your partner sighed. “Looks like neither of us are cashing ou--I mean--finding the suspect.”

Under your breath, you wondered aloud, “Who are you...Lee Minho?”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The night drew on longer with the rest of the formalities: the formal dinner, followed by several speeches from important people while dessert was being served. It all led up to the final act: His Royal Highness, Prince Chan’s speech. On several neat notecards marked with the crest, he held them in front of him while he ate his last bits of Mont Blanc Chocolate Pavlova. Even the name of the sweet itself sounded pretentious. Granted, it smelled delicious--as many expensive things did.

You stifled a yawn from your little set up on the edge of the room. At least you should’ve been able to sit, but it turns out that sitting is also against the rules in this line of work. A couple other security and bodyguards had joined you at the edge: some of their heads nodded with sleep, and the others looked as if they had taken one too many energy shots. Luckily, your stamina had been well crafted.

A fancily dressed MC made his way up to the podium and the room filled with applause after the last speaker had said all of their correct mandatory words.

“It is my honor to introduce to the stage, our wonderful head benefactor of this organization, His Royal Highness, Prince Chan of the Crown.

Applause tenfold of before erupted through the whole room and it wasn’t even an afterthought for the every attendee to stand up from their seats in an ovation. It was a force of habit for you, but you found yourself clapping as well.

Chan rose with grace, and re-buttoned his jacket with finesse. A blinding spotlight found him and it made the diamonds adorning his beck wink brilliantly. Even more blinding was his pearl white, and perfectly trained smile accompanied by his wave.

Thank you. Thank you. He mouthed.

“It’s like he’s a frickin’ movie star.” Jeongin groaned.

“Might as well be with the way that they treat him. You know deep down they’re all just terrified.”

Chan made his way up to the stage in all of his regality, and the applause didn’t stop until he cleared his throat. A collective groaning of a couple hundred chairs squeaked when everyone sat back down.

“Thank you everyone, really. I wanted to thank you all for your generous support in your donations to this organization, as well as your association with the crown. I’m sure that all the beneficiaries of your donations are beyond thankful compared to me. Without you, this would not be possible.” Chan spoke with grandiose gestures, as usual, but this time, he had found you on the side of the room. “Listen, aside from being a prince, I’m also just a person. A person who knows what it means to struggle, to--”

“--I can’t listen to this anymore.” You whispered into the quiet room, and to your partner.

“Just a few more hours.” He droned. “I almost wish that something would happen so that we don’t have to sit though much else of this.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

In the corner of your eye, Lee Minho shifted in his seat, but still kept his undivided attention to the stage. You figured he must’ve been just like the rest of them: enamored by the flashiness of the crown--and Chan. He had a way of putting a spell on people: it was the kind of spell that a prince of deception had crafted after years of being kept under lock and key.

“--Anyway, what I’m trying to say, royal or fanciful we all might be, in the simplest way, we’re all just people, therefore this is what connects us all. Thank you.”

Chan was gifted yet another standing ovation that was somehow even more thunderous than before.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed. “People born into money. There’s a difference.”

Chan gave his last waves, then a clamor echoed from the back of the room. At first, it had just sounded like the same raucous laughter you had heard all night, but then it shifted to something different. The sound of laugher turned into shouting, then screams: high pitched and piercing. You had seconds to respond, head whipping around the room to catch sight of the confused prince. In your in-ears, the the sound of gunshots echoed with rapid-fire speed. Machine guns. Shouting commands barked in your ear, and muddled with Jeongin’s string of demands and questions.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE? REPORT! REPORT!”

Your heart instantly started beating into hyperdrive, and your legs sprinted as fast has physically possible

“THEY’VE GOT GUNS!” A shrill and cracked voice of an older woman wailed from the back of the room.

Immediately after she had said so, shots fired into the darkened room with sparks, and the metallic sound of bullets hitting the marbled ground followed.

Chan looked around in his panic for you, petrified on the stage. You slung your gun out from your thigh holster and latched onto him with all of your might.

“TH-THEY JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE IN THESE VANS. THEY’RE ARMOURED, WE CAN’T--”

“Get the fuck down there and secure the exists!” Jeongin growled into his mic. “B--is the prince secure??”

“Secure!” You yelled back. Using your body as a barrier, you led the cowering prince through the mass hysteria of the crowd.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” Chan shook under your iron grip.

More shots fired into the room and bodies parted like the sea and fell over each other.

From the balcony, you had caught Jeongin aiming his own gun at the chaos below.

“I’ll cover you! Fuck! There’s so many of them! Get him to the car out back--Three, Six, meet B out there! Three!? Six!? Report!”

“Three and Six are down F!” One of the guards panted. “I can provide cover out back!!”

“Who’s speaking??” Jeongin bellowed, then aimed from above at one of the intruders. Your only focus was on weaving you and Chan out of there, but you had seen one of them in a blur. Each of the men with guns wore dark grey suits with black ties and leather gloves. Each of them wore their own crest: and it was all red.

“Bee?? Bee???” Chan shouted out for you, and jumped every time the crack of a shot echoed in the ballroom.

“I’ve got you, your Highness. We’ll be out soon. Keep your head down and listen to me.” Your arm held to him tightly, and you soon found the exit nearest. There was no telling if there would be more of them outside, but you loaded your gun quickly just in case, and pointed it out.

“Jeongin, get your ass down here!”

“Jeongin? Who the fuck is that??” Chan ducked down to hide himself behind your frame.

His name had slipped on your tongue, but that hardly mattered.

“I’ll be down in a second!!!”

“Don’t fucking waste time up there when I need you down here!!”

“Two! Two Reporting!!” A man suddenly yelled in your in-ear. “I’ve made it out back and I’ve secured the exit. The car is safe!!”

“FOX! Now!”

Your partner heaved, “I’m coming, I’m coming!!”

You kicked open the exit door, gun’s still blazing, however one one else could be found on the other side.

“Thank God,” You sighed.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be sick.” Chan had turned paler than white, then stumbled in your arms.

“Hey, HEY!” You held him upright. “It’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You need to trust me. Your life is in my hands and I’m not giving it up easy, got it?”

“O-okay.” He stammered, then attempted to straighten himself.

“The Prince is outside, repeat, The Prince is outside. Two, are you in position?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Other than the fact that you had just escaped absolute peril, the evening was unbearably pleasant. Crickets chirped in the summer evening, and the humidity of the night smelled gorgeously of the lake that was near-by as well as the vast array of flowers that had been purposefully landscaped around the hotel. Chan’s uneven steps scraped at the gravel walkway.

Since you had canvassed the whole building well, you had known exactly where the getaway car was, but you were still careful.

“Bee. Bee!” Chan blabbered. “Have-have I told you yet that I-I’m in love with you?”

“No, you haven’t Your Highness.”

“I fucking am. If I die tonight, I want you to know that I am ridiculously in love with you, and fuck, I wanna--”

“--I’m sorry, Your Highness, respectfully, but now is not the time for this and you are not dying on my watch.”

Somewhere off in the distance, frogs croaked, and the splashing of fish in the lake plopped at the surface waters. You turned a corner to finally see Two waiting his his gun raised. He was a bit of a shorter and scrawnier man, but something about him told you that where he lacked in strength, he must’ve made up for in agility.

“I’m out! I’m out!” Your partner gasped, and over the in-ear you could hear his running footsteps. “I’m almost there! I’ll be there in a second!”

“Your Highness,” Two bowed and opened the car door. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You can call me Two or J. Either you prefer.”

Jeongin came bounding around the corner with heaving breaths and his clothes askew. His glasses which just barely held onto his face had a crack on them and his knuckles were covered in blood.

“Let’s go.” The younger man prompted.

“In the car you go, Your Highness.” You motioned for him to do so.

Chan whimpered like a toddler.

You shoved his body in, “Stop that. Get in the car.”

“I’m in love with you Bee!” He yelled out, “I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU BEE!”

Jeongin slammed the door in his face with a bit of a chuckle.

“He’s delirious.”

“Mm.” your partner smiled. “Sure.”

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 6

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 6: And So It Begins

“I’m back,” MK tiredly said as he dragged his form out of the blazing sun and into the cool restaurant, “orders delivered, traffic long and people angry, but food is delivered.”

“Great, but you still have another delivery,” Pigsy replied as his back was turned.

“Just one,” he grinned, “compared to the other ten this will be a piece-,”

He slammed down 30 orders down in front of him on the already bustling counter.

“Of cake,” he deflated as he saw the monumental amount of food. “What the-Are we feeding an entire town?!”

“Close. Party, though I should have charged their ungrateful asses extra for the rush order,” he growled out, “who gives an hour warning Huh?!”

“Apparently them,” he groaned as he picked up and carried the whole load into the car.

“And when you get back, there are a dozen more orders to take care of,” Pigsy called out.

“Got it bossman,” he yelled out, then he slammed the door closed and he sat up straight with a grin, “alright this won’t be so bad.”

“BEEF? BEEF?!! I WANTED MISO! GET IT RIGHT YOU STUPID DRIVER! The voice yelled out at MK as the two stood at the doorway.

“I’m sorry but-,” he winced as he was cut off by the rude woman screech.

“You better be sorry! I could have your job for this big of a screw up! You are nothing!”

“Technically I just delivered your food,” he whispered to himself.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” He put on his best service smile, “I’m very sorry about this, how about I take your food back so that I can-.”

Splat

MK watched as the woman threw down her food in a fit of rage.

“There’s your damn food, now pick it up and get me a new one,” she spat out.

MK looked down at the pile of food that Pigsy put his sweat and blood into slowly dripping off the stone stairs. He took a deep breath as he put his hand in his pocket to subtly squeeze the stress ball and looked at the woman.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” he deadpans and walks back to the car.

“What?!”

“Also,” he rolled down his window when he got in the car, “if you would like to order for a party, next time call ahead of time.” He then quickly drove off until he could no longer hear the yells of the angry woman.

He rode until he reached the grocery store, parked at the edges of the lot where there were barely any cars, unbuckled his seat belt, and laid his head on top of the wheel.

“I. Hate. People. Sometimes.” He lightly banged his head with each word then he leaned back and took out the ball and squeezed it a few times. “I really do.”

He likes to think of himself as a pretty optimistic person, after having his whole life turned around and learning things can get better, he likes to think that the world can be good. But days like these, people like those, make him really put that side of him to the test and today he very much failed that. He should be glad that he didn’t go off on her, like what Pigsy did when some dude tried to scam him or Mei when she is feeling very competitive over some a-holes, but at the same time that sounds amazing.

He squeezed the ball a little tighter.

“I really want to see Dad right now,” he muttered to himself. It would be so easy, just one yell to him and he would be over in less than a second. “I really want him right now…but I made a promise to myself that I would do this without him.”

So he took a deep breath, lifted his head, put on his music, put away his rainbow stress ball, and slowly began his drive back to Pigsy restaurant.

It was during that drive back that he got a call, “Hello?”

“Hey MK, it’s me,” he stopped as he heard Pigsy's voice, he had a feeling he knows what this is about.

“Heyyy Pigsy, I’m almost at the store,” he tried and failed, to sound casual.

“I just got off a call with a very rude customer who said that you threw down her food when she was being oh so kind,” he bluntly said, “even mentioned about assaulting her.”

“That is so not how any of that went down!” He immediately said, “she yelled at me for saying that I made her food wrong and I told her that it can be redone, but she decided to instead throw down all of that food herself and told me to clean it up! Who does that?! And all of this was after she put her hand all through that food, which is so gross by the way, I mean other people are eating that, cause I know she ain’t-,” he was cut off by Pigsy chuckles.

“You don’t need to explain anything, I know you for far too long to even think that you would put too much salt in someone's food let alone throwing it down on the ground.”

“Oh,” he calmed down as he released the tension from the wheel, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, I told it to her straight just exactly how I felt about her being an utter ass to not only myself but my employees. Let’s just say that she was not happy about that and threaten to sue,” he could almost hear him shrug.

“What no!” He tried to stand up, only to realize he was still in the car and he was still buckled up. “I am so sorry!”

“Don’t be, cause jokes on her the world we live in has become pretty up to date with security and, more importantly, security cameras,” he said with a grin, “I don’t think she’s gonna get a single cent when everything that went down was all on video.”

MK let a smile spread across his face, bless technology and all its glory. “That’s good.”

“It sure is. Do you want to take a breather when you come back? I know that woman was more than a handful that what you're used to,” he asked in concern.

“Nope,” he cheerfully said, “I am A-Ok! Just get those next orders ready for me so I can deliver!”

“Well if you're certain, get your ass back here on the double,” he said, but the teenager could tell it was more playful, “we got orders waiting to be delivered.”

“On my way!” He saluted to no one and hung up. “Alright! Let’s get a move on!”

‘Make sure to add the cohesive before the mixing,’ the voice silently thought to himself.

“It would be so easy just to make that jump, hell my youngest kit sister can make that and she’s not even a month old,” a voice bragged.

‘Combine the Feins roots with the Elia petals first to dilute the solution.’

“All I’m saying is that if you try to jump off the cliff of perils then I sure as hell am not catching you,” another voice deadpanned.

“Nahhh I would be fine.”

‘…dice the Oran berries and Pecha then add when the next stage is ready.’

“If you count being splattered into tiny little pieces fine, then, by all means, go ahead,” another voice sighed.

‘Make sure that the color is a deep orange hue and not dark yellow, that can-,’

“Ye o little faith.”

“No, you are of little sanity. Even my younger gremlins know better,” she shot back.

‘That can easily violate the substance,’

“But they don’t have the certain skills like I do,” they bragged.

‘…leading to a-,’

“It still wouldn’t be a wise thing to do,” a deep voice pointed out.

‘Leads to a-,’ his vial cracked in his hands as he was once again interrupted.

“No, but it would be fun-.”

“I swear,” everyone turned to face the irritated monkey, “to all things good in this world and the next, if you dumbasses don’t shut the fuck up in the next five seconds I will make the Piñata fiasco at the Boiling Isles look like a god damn nap compared to what I’m gonna do to you.”

“Sorry, were we disturbing you,” Yanyu cheekily said.

“You little-”

“Awwww I’m soo sorry,” Daiyu mocked.

“I swear-”

“We didn’t mean to interrupt your monologue,” Minsheng smirked, “you know it kinda reminds me of Flicker when you do that.”

“That’s it!” He slammed down his ingredients, opened his drawers, and took out a roll of duct tape, “come here you little bastards!” He yelled out as he began to chase down the three annoyances.

“Same as usual,” Bohai sighed as he drank his tea.

“One would think not to mess with Mac when he’s like this,” Ahmed commented.

“Especially when he’s in his mood.”

“Especially that.”

“Now shut it,” he proudly said as he sat on top of his third victim.

“Hey hey!” Daiyu struggled to break free, “we were trying to lighten your mood fuzzball.”

“By annoying the shit out of me,” he growled as he taped her beak shut. “Fat chance, anyone else,” he looks over to his other two remaking friends.

“I say nothing,” the jellyfish put his tentacles up in surrender.

“While they may have been a bit well-,”

“Fucking annoying,” the monkey bluntly said.

“Yes that, they did have a purpose to their madness,” the lion pointed out.

“What? What could they possibly want badly enough to annoy the absolute fuck out of me?!”

“You have empty bird nest syndrome.”

“…what?”

“I said-”

“I heard you the first time!” Macaque interrupted, “I do not have that! I am use to MK not being home day to day, so why the hell would you thi-,”

“For days,” Yanyu said once she ripped the tape off her mouth, “but not for longer than a week.”

“Same difference!”

“Nah pal it ain’t,” the bunny demon said as they chewed on their own tape, “I can see it as bright as day, you have been extra moody and hella sad these past couple of days. It’s just like mum, whenever one decides to leave the warren, she gets all glum and broody for days.”

“I am not broody!” His tail swished violently.

“But you do miss him,” Ahmed stated.

“I don’t-”

“And it’s okay if you do.”

“I don’t miss him, I can visit anytime,” he stated.

“You still miss him being there, being next to you,” the lone human gave his ponytail a playful tug and sat next to Mac, who was still sitting on top of the tied-up vulture. “Take it from a big sister, when Shu moved out to live in the dorms I was so happy for him, but as time went on I noticed that I didn’t hear his off pitch singing in the afternoon nor did I hear his voice amongst my gremlins over who gets the last brownie. I didn’t miss him, hell I could video chat with him anytime, but I missed his presence, you know.”

Macaque just gave her a hard look before sighing, “He used to hum to himself whenever he was bored,” he admitted as he got off his friend and slumped down next to her.

Yanyu just patted his shoulder as he continued.

“I know I can just visit him, but my kid is growing up, he’s learning to stand on his own and he should have his own life separate from me.”

“Yeah imma stop you there,” Sheng rolled his eyes, “you are being one over dramatic monkey right now if you think that just because he’s doing his own thing, doesn’t mean that he doesn't have time for you. Hell, you are the one demon he will always have time for no matter what.”

“But-”

“Ain’t no buts about it fuzzbrain,” Daiyu squawked out once she feared the tape off, “your hatching adores the shit out of you and if you don’t think he won’t spend time with you then you are dead wrong.”

“He should have that time to himself, he is just starting out all on his own…without me…,” he slumped in depression, but quickly shot up due to a shocking touch, “OW! FUCKING WHY BOHAI!”

“You're being an idiot,” he smugly said as he lowered his tendril.

“Thanks,” Yanyu nodded to him, “and he’s right. I know that this whole thing won’t end with this so here’s what we’re gonna do. The six of us are going to go to Qián city.”

“…why the fuck are we going to the underwater city of Shanghai?” He incredulously looked at her.

“Cause you seriously need to relax.”

“I don’t-”

“You spent most of your time in the garden or prepping medicine that you don’t need,” Ahmed calmly said as he cleaned up the mess that Mac made.

“…you may have a point, but I don’t really feel like I should leave, what if MK or Mei happens to call?” He said.

“Well one, I know damn well that your hearing exceeds that city's borders,” Sheng points out.

“Okay true.”

“And second, we have the beauty of phones, which allows people to fall from far away,” Yanyu slowly told him as if he was a child, “I taught you this in one of our first lessons.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he muttered, “but I don’t-”

“You either go willingly or Kit Kat over here is going to drag you,” she pointed to Ahmed.

“He wouldn’t-”

“I really would,” he had to stop a smile at the utter betrayal in the monkey's face.

“I could beat your ass again,” he grumbled.

“You very well could,” he agreed, “but then you would also have to go against everyone else and they will happily drag both you and me off.”

“Fine!” He throws his hand in the air.

“Got ‘em!” Sheng high-fived Yanyu.

“Told you he would cave in eventually,” the vulture grinned.

“But we are going there to strictly relax, that means no explosions, arsons, paralyzing, hacking, or prison riots.”

“What about stealing and graffitiing,” the bluenette raised her hand.

“If there assholes, be my fucking guest, but your ass better not get caught.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be more stealthy than sneaking into the police hub to get rid of the evidence,” she cockily stated.

“What?”

“What.”

“…you know what the less I know the better.”

“Good choice, so let’s get packing!” She excitedly said as she, Daiyu, Minsheng, and Bohai exited the infirmary.

“So are you gonna tell them that the game dealers there are more than likely to scam them before or after they get robbed?” Ahmed curiously asked.

“After, they need a lesson on not annoying the fuck out of me when I’m working,” he gave a mischievous grin.

“Quite rude of you,” he grinned.

“But you're smiling too.”

Ahmed chuckled lightly as the two left the infirmary.

It was a quiet day at the restaurant, the dinner rush had just ended and all that was really left to do was wait for the store to close and clean up what’s left. The only customers inside were Mei and Tang, both of whom have long since finished eating and are currently just chatting, or laying down, with MK over the counter.

“So how’re your online classes treating you?” Mei asked.

“Great!” He perked up as he took his eyes off the creepy butterfly in the corner of the restaurant, “I’m just about finished with my general study.”

“Ooo, does that mean you finally have a major in mind,” Mei leaned in.

“No I do not.” He cheerfully stated.

All of them, including Pigsy who was listening in, facepalmed.

“Mkkk,” the nineteen year old groaned.

“I knowww,” he slumped down, “but it’s hard deciding what to do for the rest of your life.”

“Well that is okay,” the historian softly said, “you're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Besides, college is not for everyone.”

“Yeahhh, so how’re your classes going Mei Mei?” MK turned to his friend, “I know you been taking some of the engineering courses.”

“Ugghhh, don’t get me started,” she slumped down in her seat, “I love it, but that is seriously kicking my ass right now. If I didn’t like to make sweet ass rides then I would have totally just dropped it.”

“Let me guess, for racing,” MK said as he sprayed down the counter.

“Duh, I’m gonna be so fast that when they're only halfway, I've already passed that finish line baby!” Mei screamed.

“Shhhhh,” Tang hushed as he held his head against the cool counter, “not so loud please.”

“You okay there Tang?” Pigsy asked as he moved closer to his friend, “you’ve been like that ever since you got in.”

“Yeah, it’s just this headache has been killing me and my usual medicine isn’t doing a thing,” sighed as he leaned into the warm hand touching his head.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a fever at least,” the pig mutters.

“Do you have any coughing, sneezing, nausea, or any other symptoms?” MK curiously asked as he sat up.

“I have been feeling a bit nauseous,” he murmured.

“Sharp ringing in your ears on and off?”

“Yesss,” he groaned out.

“Hmm hold on,” MK quickly went upstairs, everyone heard faint shuffling noises before he came back down as fast as he was carrying a small baggie, “Can I use your stove and teapot?”

“Go right ahead,” Pigsy agreed.

MK gave a quick smile and they all watched him make a pot of tea, but instead of teabags, he added some of the plants that were inside the bag.

“Here you go,” MK presented the tea to the historian once it was done.

Tang hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup, “…what is it?”

“Medicine. Drink,” he gave him a wide-eyed look.

“...alright,” he shrugged his shoulders and joked, “if this kills me, just burn my corpse.”

“Drink,” MK commanded once more.

Tang drank his tea instead of retorting back and his eyes widen at the taste of it.

“Are ya dead?” Mei asked.

“Feel the poison seeping in,” the pig demon joked.

“This is really good,” he complimented MK and he began to drink more.

“Thanks, it’s Dad’s special recipe diluted when it comes to dealing with migraines,” he happily announced.

“Diluted? I can already feel my migraine already going away, how bad is his if this is diluted?” Tang asked with much concern.

MK grimace as he shared a look with Mei. He can’t help the memories all filtering in of his father lying in bed clutching onto the headphones as it tightly covered all six of his ears. There is never a pattern to when this happens, but he knew to keep a pot of tea hot and a bowl of mango or other non-citrusy fruit available on those days.

“It’s pretty bad,” was all he said.

“Oh,” both adults shared a look before Tang put on a grin as he slurped down his tea, “well this really works, what in it?”

“It’s Feverfew Tea with some Pika berries,” said MK.

“I’ve heard of Feverfew, but I don’t think Pika rings a bell,” Pigsy hummed totally missing Mei’s shocked face.

“Why I never-,”

“No, it’s not pokemon,” MK quickly shut that down before she got to her rant.

‘’Awww,” she deflated.

“It’s from Kunlun peak.”

Tang immediately choked on his tea, “AK! Did you just say Kunlun peak!”

“Yep!”

“What’s so special about that,” she glumly asks.

“Mount Kunlun is known to be a mythical mountain that hikers and historians have been searching for centuries,” Tang began, “It’s said to hold both mythical animals and plants, each having extraordinary potential within them as even the Gods from above go down there for certain herbs and items needed for their potions. It just lays there on top of the highest peak, but no person nor demon has ever had a straight map leading there and you’re telling me your Dad, Macaque, went there?!”

“He goes there a few times a year,” the teenager proudly says.

He looks down at his tea with sparkles in his eyes, “I’m drinking magic tea made from the legendary mountain,” he gave a big slurp as he inhaled it and stood up.

Pigsy eyed the drink, neither teenager knew if it was in envy or jealousy.

“But I’m impressed MK,” Mei playfully punched his shoulder, “look at you being all smart about medicine.”

“Well I hear Dad mutter on and on about different types of herbs and their properties on a day to day basis, that it eventually gets stuck in my head you know,” he joked then he paused as an interesting thought occurred to him, “wait a moment.”

They all watch MK have a silent conversation to himself, complete with waving hands, multiple facial expressions, draw a few sketches on his notepad, and finish with a final glow of his eyes as he leaped up in the air.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?” The owner said.

“Why didn’t I think of this before!”

“Think of what before?” The historian asked.

“It was seriously in front of me this entire time!”

“MK, I swear if you don’t tell us what’s up right now I am not liable to my next actions,” Mei threatened.

“I can be a Doctor!” He leaned forward in excitement, “or at least something along those lines!”

“You can be pop’s assistant!” Mei started to get excited alongside him, “how the hell did I not think of it either?!”

“I don’t know!”

“It does suit you,” the demon agreed. He knows the kid is smart, he has seen his grades, so it’s not far fetched to assume that he can do this rigorous task. “Hope you have good study habits, I know mines was absolute garbage back in school.”

“With notecards and all,” MK hates studying, his brain goes brrr during those times, but he can’t thank Yanyu and Bohai enough for teaching him different tricks to help keep focus. “Now I’m thinking maybe of being a pharmacist, cause I don’t think I do well with surgery.”

“There are also the ones who diagnose the disease using the X-ray thingie,” she snapped her finger as she tried to remember.

“Radiologist,” Tang called out.

“Yeah that!” She pointed to him.

“Ooo that also sounds interesting,” MK and Mei continued their animated talk as both adults watched.

“It’s nice to see them so happy,” the noodle lover let out a content smile as he drank some more of his tea.

“I hear that,” Pigsy then looked at the man cup in confusion, “by the way you’ve been drinking, I thought you would have already been finished by now.”

“With my first cup yes, I’m on my third one now.”

“How in the-I didn’t even see you leave this area!”

“Magic tea is magic,” was all Tang said.

Pigsy exploded, “That doesn’t explain shit!”

“Well too bad,” he gave a loud slurp once more.

SLURPPP

“You know what, two can play that game,” the human was confused when the pig demon got up and left the room. He was no longer confused as he came back with a cup of tea in hand.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tang threatened the pig.

The pig looked him straight in the eye and, with a sly smirk, drank down the tea.

SLURRPP

“You heathen!” He shrieked as he banged his hands on the counter and stood up, “how dare you drink my magic tea!”

“Well next time don’t be rude as fuck!” He shot back and got in his face as well.

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Says the freeloader!”

“Oh here we go again! You know, if you wanted some tea you could have asked!”

“My stove, my cups, my pot, mine.”

“But it was made for me!”

“Yeah well-wait hold up, you feel better right,” Pigsy dropped his screaming as he softly asked his friend, “no drill pounding in your head?”

“Yeah I’m fine now, it really does work miracles,” Tang also lowered his voice.

“That’s good.”

“…they really do act like an old married couple,” Mei announces, MK facepalmed as both adults separated from each other and yelled.

“WE ARE NOT!”

“I’m really sorry about such short notice,” the panda bear demon on call apologized once more to Macaque as he was quickly gathering his ingredients.

“Don’t apologize, shit like this happens,” he waved him off, “I’ll take me a couple of days, a week at max, but I’ll be there before the poison reaches its peak.”

“Thank you,” the panda bowed to him.

“Make sure to store away any semblance of caffeine, alcohol, or anything high in potassium, those are the fastest ways to speed up the process,” he instructed him.

“I’ve been meaning to take away Mink coffee stash, now I have a reason,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Will do bossman,” he hung up the call and called another number as he continued to pack. Once it picked up he put a smile on his face, “Hey Comet, how’s it going?”

“Good!” The twenty year old happily responded. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the classes are actually kinda easy to understand. They’re still tricky, especially the tests, but Yanyu was right about you teaching this. It made almost all my classes so much easier thanks to you.”

“Aww, that’s another one for my ego,” he joked then he put on a more serious tone, “but I didn’t just call you here for a chat kiddo.”

“Why what’s up? Is there something wrong?” MK suddenly asked as he leaned in, “Do I have to get Mei here and help kick some asses?!”

“Snrk, no nothing like that,” he let out a snort, “you know Po right?”

“Yeah, he’s the panda demon who comes in to get pain relief, muscle relaxants, and other types of medicine for his students? Does this have something to do with him?”

“Close, his disciples messed up big time and accidentally inhaled a bunch of toxic fog when they faced off against an elephant demon.”

“How can an elephant make poison?” MK questioned.

“Magic can do the weirdest of things, I mean I’m a monkey that can do shadow magic,” he pointed out.

“True, okay so he’s gonna come over to pick up the antidote? I don’t see what’s the big problem?”

“Here’s the bad part, Po can’t make a round trip, cause the time he gets back, all of his students…might not be alive,” he gently told him.

“…oh, so what’s gonna happen?”

“Well, I’m going to have to make a house call, which means I'm gonna have to go away for a bit and it’s pretty far, so I won’t be able to hear you.”

“…okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!” MK gave a big grin to him, “Don’t you worry bout a thing! I’m an adult now Dad, I will be just fine!”

“You have grown up,” he gave a gentle smile, “I’m glad to hear that, but remember to call if there’s any trouble. I may be far, but I will come running if you need it.”

“I will! Now finish packing and save some lives!”

“I will, I’ll see you in two weeks shooting star.”

“See ya later old man!”

Macaque hung up the call with a smile as he resumed his packing. He wished he could have hugged his kid goodbye, but he was in a time crunch as he zipped everything up and quickly jumped out of the treehouse and began to move within the shadows of the trees.

He really does love his shadow powers during these times.

“Duh du Duh,” MK hummed out as he danced his way over to the food delivery destination with the headphones blaring in his ears. He then lifted it to call out the order name when he heard a silky voice interrupt.

“It feels like I waited for an eternity for this moment, is everything in order?”

“Just making the final adjustment mother,” another voice replied and this is when he opened his eyes to see that this was no ordinary food order as an ominous group stood before him.

“Nope,” he immediately whispered as he silently jetted off to hide behind a pile of rocks, but he peaked his head carefully out to see and his eyes widened.

“Finally after all this time,” the woman continued.

‘No way.’

“We have the means to lift Monkey King staff.”

‘It is!’

Standing before them all, wrapped in vibrant viridian vines and burrowed underneath a garden left untouched by the destruction laid around it, was the legendary Monkey King staff.

Things were about to get interesting.

No joke, the delivery scene with the lady is something I had to experience before. There are people who truly treat food workers lower than dirt, which is stupid to me cause why would you disrespect the people making your food? It’s like insulting the people who manage your money.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #six eared macaque #macaque #PlumTeaAU

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madmiriam · 3 years

Text

My Mando (Din Djarin) /oc's backstory idea (includes alot of rexsoka shipping)

Warning!! : I can't spell for toffee and Tumblr deleted all of my proofreaders edits. Obviously she doesn't want to do it all over again so I've had to make do.

(a clan of three by madmiriam (Me)

We all love the mandalorian, Din Djarin is so sexy as single dad and we all love him for it. But this makes it hard to write and engageing original character to go with this perfect specimen of a man, one that we can really connect with. Well I have a salutation, to connect with a character it helps if that character is also connected to a character/characters that you already know and love. So I give you my original character Jaig.

Look:

Like the picture above, originally I wasn't going to have Din and Grogu in it at first but I have a habit of making life difficult for myself, so your welcome.

Personality:

As an adult, she's calm and patient and has a sarcastic sense of humour.

As a child, she has a bubbly personality, a contagious smile, and an insatiable curiosity.

Strengths:

she finds it difficult to truly hate anyone, no matter what they've done, she proffers to look at the reasons behind the actions of others before jumping in for revenge, that's not to say she doesn't get angry at people, but her anger is not fuelled by hate. She has been fully trained in the use of weaponry, such as guns, granaids and other such, and has had a small amount of training with a lightsaber when she was younger. But afters a experiencing a tragedy at the age of 9 she hasn't touched one since, she proffers the us of DC hand guns. She is also a fairly good pilot and mechanic.

Weaknesses:

back when she was a child she had a hard time using the force when when overwhelmed. If the thoughts and feelings of others got to much, she would become force blind. When she grows older, (for certain reasons you will find out later on in. This story) she completely cuts herself off from the force. Unless her emotions get to much go handle, then the force would almost explodes out of her. She also doesn't do well when she's alown. Having grown up in various large family atmospheres. If she is not around people she cares about and loves, she will become closed off a dipressed.

Back story: (now bear with me, this storyline is set before she meets Din, its just an introduction to this character)

Jaig (due to her small Jaig eye like markings, and her father's personal connection to the simble) is the daughter of ex jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano and her mate/husband Captain Rex. She looks mostly human like her father, with the same amber eyes and his family's dark hair. But with the same facial structure of her mother, and a slightly darker and olive tinged skin tone. She also has distinct white making that were almost identical to her mother's. Except instead of diamond shapes on her forehead, she has jaig eye like markings. She was born 6 years after the clone wars ended, while her parents were on the run from the empire. Rex and Ahsoka had found it impossible to part from one another after the events of order 66, and after travelled from place to place avoiding the empire for a long time. Their feelings for one another grow, and they eventually married through the use of mandalorian marriage vows.

They built a home in the stars, and after a few years, to their great surprise and happiness they conserved and had Jaig. Things were finally looking up with the birth of their new found hope for the future.

(Their new found hope for the future/baby Jaig by madmiriam (me)

But it was not to last. It was hard enough to hide themselves, a clone and a ex jedi from the empire. But now adding a force sensative baby to the mix as well, it made it damn near impossible for them all to stay together. Which; after a terrifying encounter with one of the Empires Inquisitors, forced them to make the difficult decision to part ways. Rex would head off insearch for a new home and hopefully find and de-chip as many brothers as he could. While ahsoka would keep traveling around the stars with Jaig. Avoiding the empire and its ruthless inquisitors, whilst trying to help Jaig build up her Shields. They both agreed to keep in touch and once Jaig's Shields were up and safely secure,(which for the average youngling would take 5 years or so) they would rejoin each other and dicided what to do next. But a year after their separation Rex's comms and messeges had stopped all together, and by the time Jaig had reached the age of five and had built up some suitable shields around her mind, neither she or her mother had herd from her father in over 4 years. Her mother was adament he was still alive, but as she grew older Jaig had a hard time believing her. For if he was alive why hadn't he come to find them? Why was he not answering her mothers messages that she still sent on a regular basis?

By the time she was 6 her mother was approached by Bail Organa, in regards to starting a rebellion, and that is what they spent the next 4 years working towards, staying in the shadows gradually building up a resistance to eventually overthrow the empire.

She and her mother met the ghost crew when she was 9 (the same age Anakin had been when he was found by qui gon) and after an uncomfortably close encounter with a mysterious Sith lord called Darth Vader, Jaig's mother disided it was time to bring her father into the fold, and sent Jaig of with the ghost crew to find Rex.

When meeting her father she had opted to wear a scarf to cover her face markings and, chose to withhold her name, and who she was until she found out more about the man who was her father. She was apprehensive about him. As she had no memorie of her dad, for she was only a baby when he left. The only thing she did have, was this warm comforting feeling that she felt whenever her mother spoke of him. A feeling of being held to a large ferm chest in two equally large and ferm muscular arms. Wrapped in a soft wool blanket. Her mother told her that this was the force making an imprint on one of the more emotional moments of her like. But all the same, she proffered to be cautious.

After spending some time with Rex and his bothers. She found her self really enjoying there company. Aspecially her father's. Who dispite having no idea who she was, had already shown that he had a clear paternal instinct. Particularly when teaching her and Ezra how to fish for "Big Bongo". However Kanan who clearly didn't trust Rex or his brothers had spent most of his time hovering around ether her or Ezra protectively, eventually telling them about his exspirence with order 66, an event her mother never talked about.

After seeing the heartbreak on her father's eyes at the memories he and Kanan spoke of. She desided it was time to tell him who she was. But that decision was cut short however when she overheard Rex telling Ezra that he wasn't going to come back with them. Even though he now knew her mother was alive (1 year after separating when the message's stopped he thought both his wife and child to be dead) Jaig ran of in tears when hearing this. She climbing down the ladder of the the AT-TE and walked ferther in front of the walking monstrosity. Away from everyone else. She had finally gotten used to the idea of her father coming back with them. Had become exited by it even. But now, the fact that he was refusing to come with them. Back to his home, his wife, to her. It hurt and overwhelmed her, more than she could say.

She didn't however see what happened after. When Sebine came out and acused Rex of selling them out, of contacting the empire and never answering Ahsoka's messages; at which point he finds out about how Wolfe had withheld all the messages from Ahsoka for 8 years. Thinking he was protecting his brothers from a potentially vengeful jedi. Rex was furious at Wolfe for hiding his own wife's messages to him, and coursing him to miss so much of his only child's life.

Rex: "we have a daughter Wolfe!!! My Jaig, my baby girl doesn't even know who I am because of you!!!"

Wolfe:(was shocked and full of regret when hearing this) "I.. I.. Didn't know... Rex I'm sorry, I didnt know"

Ezra:(recordnises the name) "wait Jaig? you meen our Jaig, Jaigs your daughter?"

Rex: "wait what?"

At this point they hear a shrill scream coming from down in front of the AT-TE. It was Jaig, she was being attact by the prob droid that had been sent by the empire.

The clones immediately go into action. Rex is handed a rifle and gets ready to shoot the prob as it backs his daughter into the ground. His ames and shoots true, killing the droid with one foul shot and then quickly dashes down to retrieve his daughter from under the sparking remains of the droid.

Jaig is in hysterics at this point. Having been taken by surprise by the droid along with the emotional turmoil of potentially losing her father all over again. She then resigned herself to just sit there and cry over how foolish she was for even seeing the attack coming. But now she was being held in the familiar strong arms of her father as he held his only child for the first time in over 8 years.

Rex: "I'm here sh shh, I'm here Ik'aad senaar (baby bird, a nickname he gave her as an infant) daddy's here, daddy's got you"

He says carefully stocking her familiar dark brown hair (that was now flowing free as her scarf had fallen loosely around her shoulders, revealing her beautiful face to her father who's eyes were now brimming with unshed tears) to calm her down as he picking her up and takes her back to the AT-TE. Where the others are waiting with bated breaths. Wolfe was holding a blanket out to wrap his shacking niece into and Gregor quickly dashing off to get her a hot chocolate hoping to make her feel better.

Jaig: "I was angry. Upset. You said you weren't coming home and, then everyone felt so angry and scared all at once. It was to much. (sighs) I have a hard time controling the force when I get overwhelmed like that. I couldn't even sence the prob. I'm. I'm sorry"

She exsplans after she sits down and has a few sips of the hot chocolate that had been placed in her hands. Accompanied a number of comforting back rubs from both her father and her uncles.

Wolfe apologies to her. Explains that he's the reason her father had been out of her life for so long. That he was just trying to protect his brothers but ended up hurting his other family because of it. And tells her he understands if she hates him.

Jaig: "your Wolfe aren't you? Uncle Wolfe? Mum (she has a slight clone like accent that they haven't noticed before) told me about you, said you worked with Grandpa Plo"

Wolfe: 😳"Grandpa Plo? 😂 Boy he would have loved to have herd you say that"

He said, both of them smile at each other, Jaig having forgiven her uncle for his laps in judgment.

All seemed well again until the empire calls them back to get the clones to hand over the rebels. The clones now fueled by the new found need to keep their new family out of harms way, tells the empire where they can stick it, and quickly try to usher the ghost crew along with Jaig into the phantom so they can escape While they all get ready to fight.

Jaig: "but I just found you, mum told me to bring you home, I can't leave you behind, da.. Please don't go"

She says clutching at his shirt as he huged her tight before holding her out to face him,

Rex:"no one's abandoning anyone. Jaig look at me (tilting her head to look. Into her eyes, eyes that matched her father's) we're soldiers Ik'aad senaar, this is what we were born to do, but this time we have something to fight for.. Its going to be OK, (presses his forehead against hers) I love you my Jaig eyes, I've loved you from the I first held you. Ha you were so tiny. I didn't want to let you go back then and I don't want to do it again now, but like last time it's something I have to do, to keep you safe, my Ik'aad senaar, (kissed her forhead lovingly) tell your mother I'm sorry I couldn't make it home, and... And I love her ok."

He says before sending her back into the phantom, closing the door behind her before she can stop him.

Things then pan out like it does in the show, the phantom goes back to help the clones take down the walkers and Rex then decides he's not gonna spend any more of time away from Ahsoka and Jaig and choses to return with them and join the rebellion.

The reauion between Rex and Ahsoka continues the same, but insted of just a hug Ahsoka goes in for the kiss (how it should have always been in my opinion).

(this art work was done by @nottonyharrison (please note: this image was used with the permission of the artist,) please go check them out, as you can see their art work is stunning)

They spend most of there time with the ghost crew, Ahsoka makes the Ghost her base to return to after missions, and Rex teaching combat and war strategies to both Ezra and Jaig, but mostly to Ezra, Jaig was; in his opinion still to young to get to deep into the oncoming war.

Rex:"let her be a kid for a little longer at least".

Jaig and Ezra had eventually become good friends, Jaig looking up to him as something of an older brother, following him every where he went like a little shadow. At first Ezra was annoyed, and try to get away from her at every turn. But after a while he found he quite like having someone look up to him for a change. As before her, he had been dubed the baby of the group with the most to learn. But now he had Jaig hanging on his evey word like it was gold. He found he enjoyed the new found responsibility.

Unfortunately with her shadowing Ezra so much. This meant she got into all kinds of trouble with him. Trouble that mostly involved them running down the corridor with an angry Zeb chasing after them. Zeb really didn't seem to like Jaig very much. Said it was like having two Ezras, and one was quite enough. However other trouble also included a short but terrible trip to malachor, where after being told she can't come along she choses to stow herself away on the phantom in the small rashon hold built into the floor, shielding her mind from her mother as they flow through space.

Ahsoka: (on a call to Rex) "well I definitely out rank you😉... 😟How Jaig doing?"

Rex: "welp she's not happy, she gone and hidden herself in one of thoughs little critter caves again, I'm making her favorite tonight so I know she'll show up by dinner time, but all the same😔..."

Ahsoka: "hay don't take it to heart Rex, you and I both know this is how she deals with being left behind for anything, she finds a small place to hide and sulk it out, just be ready with a plate of nuna and a hug and she bounces right back😄🙁 when she comes out tell her I love her, and I'll be home soon"

Rex: "I will🙂😟... May the force be with you" they hang up.

It's Ezra who ends up finding her, just after they land. Pointing her out to a stressed out Kanan and a very cross Ahsoka,

Ezra: "ummm guys, I think we have a stowaway",

Jaig: "before you get mad..... consider being proud of me, I stayed still for hours in there AND I shielded my mind the whole time, so you non of you even knew I was there"

Ahsoka: "DON'T push it young lady😠what were you thinking!! Your fathers gonna be worried sick!!!! 😤😔 welp since there's no turning back now, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get you back home and thoroughly grounded for a year"

The rest again plays out the same, they find Maul, Maul blinds Kanan, they get the sith holocromb but lose Ahsoka in the fight with Vader, though after seeing Jaig who looks so much like the little snippy girl from his old life, the Anakin in Vader hasitates to kill ahsoka and her child, and insted trys to convince the unwavering togruta to join him with her daughter.

Vader:"the galaxy shall never be safe for her Ahsoka, join me and I can protect her from the emperor. Join me and we can over throw him... Together"

Ahsoka: "how can I trust anything you say. If you were truly Anakin then how can you protect my daughter when you can't even protect yourself"

Jaig: "MUM!!!! MUUUMMMM!!!"

Ahsoka looks at her daughter running to her as the walls of the sith temple come down,

Ahsoka :"I'm sorry Jaig"

She say quietly as she force pushes he child into Ezra outside the temple as it fall around her and Vader out of the site of her family.

When all is quiet and Vader emerges from the rubble, after failing to find his former apprentice, the Anakin in him vows that he will not fail her child, he will do everything in his power to insure his master never find her, even if he has to hide her away himself to do it.

When Kanan, Ezra and Jaig return to base, Rex is in hysterics asking around.

Rex:"have you seen Jaig? Has anyone seen my baby?, its been over two days.. I can't find her..!!."

Jaig:"DADDY!!! 😭"

Rex turns to see her running out of a newly landed phantom in tears. Now knowing exactly where she'd been he quickly runs to her and scoops her up in his arm clucking her close to his chest in relief that she was home.

Rex:"you.. Are going to be the death of me, hey sh shshsh hey, hey what's the tears? what happen? where's your..? ."

(a father's comfort, ruff drawing by madmiriam (me)

He couldn't finish the sentence as he looked around and sure two other people emerging from a now empty ship, neither one of them was his wife. Ezra looked him in the eyes and with out saying a word, he knew. He knew Ahsoka, his Ahsoka was gone. He closed his eyes, sheding one silent tear as he held his girl tighter, and slowly carried her away, away from the crowd, but not away from the heartache.

After the loss of her mother, Jaig's once bubblie personality had diminishes somewhat. She refuses to leave the side of eather her father or the members of the ghost crew. She goes on a few missions with them and liston to every word her father says about ways of fighting, fighting to protect herself and the people she loves. Before heading to a mission on geonosis he gives he one of his old DCs. (its twin had been lost in battle during the clone wars and he had gotten a replacement pear, but he had always kept his first well maintained in case he ever needed it)

Rex: "I know it's no lightsaber, but if will keep you and the others safe when used properly"

Jaig: "I don't want a lightsaber any more, 😔sabers get you killed"

Rex: " not all of them Ik'aad senaar" he sighs kissing her forehead "not all of them".

But even this would not last. When it came time for the empire to attack chopper base. Vader sends his own secret troops of undercover purge troopers to find and retrieve Jaig, and to also fake her death so both the empire and the rebels would not come looking for her. This of corse left Rex in his lowest point yet. After watching the ship he had put his daughter on to be evacuated blow up before it even left the ground. He found it hard to not simply drop all his defences and just calming walk into the flames after her. If it hadn't been for Zeb he probably would have. These kind of thoughts invaded his mind so frequently after that day, it was hard to remember when they didn't. He had lost both his wife and now his child. His hope and his reason for fighting were gone, and he wanted to go after them. But he couldn't. Not while there were still people to fight out there, the people who took everything for him and was still grabbing for more. People who his wife started this whole rebellion to fight against. No, he would keep fighting, as long as there is still even one imperial still left alive he would live and fight, until every last one of then were wiped out of existence. (that's gonna take a while)

Meanwhile Vader and Jaig finally meet properly face to mask. Jaig is having a hard time counselling her fear. But Vader was also having difficulty concealing his pain. Pain that had lingered since the moment he had emerged from that crumbled down sith temple, with no sign in the force or otherwise of his once padawan,. The last family he thought he had, that had not betrayed him, who had(once she had seen his face underneath his freshly cracked mask) said she wouldn't leave him, not again. But she had left him, not by her own design he knew, but she had left him all the same. And she had also left a child behind, a child like the one Padme would have given him if it weren't for both the sith and the jedi.

The jedi, who had forced his hand in turning to the dark side, by telling him he should just let Padme die for the good of the galaxy. The jedi who had abandoned his padawan, his little sister, his first child (if he could go so far as to say) in her time of need, and then exsept her to come back all smiles, acting as though her whole ordel was just a trial to prove herself to them. When it was them who should be providing themselves to her.

And the sith,. The sith who had manipulated him from day one to become what he is now, the sith who had taken every thing he had, his wife, his child, his brother/father figer, his little sister/daughter and his friends. The clones. His home all gone for the sake of his masters new empire😡. Yes he new this had been his master's plan all along, the war the clones, the inhibitor chips. All to gane more and more power for himself and to distroy the jedi in his wake. Dragging Anakin down into the darkness with him, and he would do the same thing to Jaig given the chance. Vader could feel the raw power of the force rolling of her, the energy mix with her fear would be a prime canderdate for Sidious's manipulation, should he ever discover her existence.

No!!! That would not happen, neither the sith or the jedi would have her, he would not alow it.

Jaig:"I know who you are.. I know what you did... You tryed to turn my mother before killing her, but you wouldn't turn me, you hear me, I.. Will.. Not... Turn"

She says her voice shacking with her body in fear.

Vader:"no... You will not..."

Jaig: "then why am I here? I haven't done anything to make you hate me.... At least... I don't think I have"

Vader:"I do not hate you Jaig, like your mother, much to my masters great..... disappointment... I could never hate you"

It was true. He couldn't hate her. Couldn't bring himself to hate her. But he couldn't love her either. He had no more love left in him to give. But he could protector for the sake of someone he had loved.

Jaig: confused "then.. Then please let me go, I won't tell anyone if that's what your worried about, I just want to go home, I want my dad, please I just want my daddy😰"

Vader: "you father's fate is.... Regrettable. However it is a necessary evil, it is emperative that he believes you to be dead"

Jaig: "why what did he do to you? what did any of my parents ever do to you?!"

Vader: "as shocking as it may sound, these actions are not done out of hate. You will know this soon enough but for now, I must focus on getting you as far away and as hidden as possible" he then calls in a trouper with red and black armor.

Vader: "CC-2224 I trust your men are ready"

Cody: "ready and awaiting orders.. Sir"

Cody says through gritted teeth not bearing to even look at his once general's masked face.

Vader:"good, I trust the surgery was a success for all of them?"

Cody: "yes.. Sir.. Though we are all having adjustment issues due to recent ... and.... less recent events"

Vader: "thoughs... issues.... had better not interfere with the performance of your mission commander, you and your men have been chosen for one reason and one reason only, and it is for your loyalty to her safety. I can feel your hatred for me commander Cody (Cody inhails sharply at the sound of his name) but I also know enough about you and your brother's to know that they will not let this anger get in the way. I trust you all know the consequences that await you should you fail"

He ignites his blood red saber to put more emphasis on his point.

Cody:"yes sir"

Vader:"very well, now take her and go, and protect her with your life, I shall make my own way back to base as some as I can, her training with began immediately after my return, so be sure to proper her, but until then you already know what to do".

Cody noded before walking over to Jaig, then bent down and gently but fermly lifts her out of her seat, and quickly carry her out of the cell, down the hall and, through the, docking Station towards a unmarked referbished gunship.

Jaig: "where are we going? "

She said with a soft whimper. She was relieved to be away from Vader but still felt apprehensive with the idea of being taken away yet again in the arms of this.. Purge trooper, at lest she thinks it's a purge trooper, she had never seen one before so she could only guess.

Cody: "sh sh it's gonna be OK little one, I'm taking you some were safe, but we have to hurry now"

Jaig:"why?"

Cody: "no one on this ship other than Vader knows we're here and we have to keep it that way kid"

Jaig:"why would you need to hide from your own men"

Cody:"cuz you never know whos watching, I'll explain more when we get off this ship and into hyperspace"

Once they were on board the gun ship, that had been modified to acomidate long period space travel. The modifications included everything from comfortable seating to a working hyperdrive. Cody set her down in one of the seats and strapped her fermly in before heading to the cockpit, leaving her now surrounded by four more purge troopers (hardcase, fives, dogma and waxer, who I'm gonna say lived, cuz I have attachment issues, boil is in the cockpit piloting the ship) who are all looking at her intensely through their helmets. (hardcase and fives are in borrowed discises, after Fives finds out about the chips he and hardcase desert the army and decide to strike out on their own to try and find out more about the chips and their perpose, unfortunately they were too late to do anything about it before oder 66 happened. They have been on the run ever since, until Vader aproches them, informing them that he has been keeping tabs on them, and had been insuring the empire believes them both to be dead, and tells them of the mission, they agree to help because it's Rex and ahsoka's daughter they'll be protecting, but only under the condition the they only report to a de-chipped Cody and all other clones included in the mission must also be de-chipped as well. Vader had agreed to this as he was going to have their chips all removed anyway, to prevent any itchy trigger fingers being near his new force sensative)

Once they're in hyperspace Cody returns to the main area of the gun ship, where the other clones are crowed around a frightened looking Jaig

Waxer: "is this her? Wow she looks so much like her mum"

Fives: "she has our eyes though, our wonderfully handsome eyes"

hardcase: "and out hair, Ha!! I knew Rex's hair wasn't naturally blonde😂"

Dogma:" technically Hardcase, her hair being brown isn't proof that his is to, she could have just gotten the hereditary Jango gen of dark hair"

Fives:"aww suck the fun out of it why don't you"

Cody: "guys back up, give her some space, your freaking her out, and take off your buckets, I don't think they're helping"

When their buckets were removed Jaig was shocked to see five versions of her father's face looking down at her, all old and a little worse for where's, but all very much clone. She recordnises three of them from her father's holopad.

Jaig: "Fives?"

Fives:😃 "yeah! Yeah kid, that's me your☝️ Uncle Fives (he kneals down taking her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze, before turning to Cody) she recordnised me first that must kill you😁"

Cody: 😠 "only cus you have a, dirty great 5 on your forehead You Di'kut"

He said before knealing down in front of her

Cody:"hey kid, sorry I couldn't introduce myself earlier, I'm your.."

Jaig:"Uncle Cody"

Cody:😁 "yeah kid (to Fives) SEE!! over there are your uncles Dogma, Waxer, Hardcase and back there in the cockpit is your uncle Boil, I know your probably not used to this many of us, but there's more we're we came from where we're going, though they live un a different fasilaty to ours, but every single one of them would be whiling to keep you safe if they knew. So you don't have to worry, we're not gonna let anything happen to you"

Jaig "but Vader.."

Cody: (places both hand at the side of her head and looks her dead in the eyes) "isn't going to TUCH you, not if we have anything to say about its, he may be our sponser, and he will be coming round every so often to check on you and train you. But you'll have several hundred or so uncles on the planet ready and waiting with fully loaded blasters should he ever try to hurt you, us 6 especially as we're the only clones there that know about you yet and we're gonna be living under the same roof, as you and one of us will always be close by to help you. OK kid, it's all gonna be ok (he says hugging her) your safe now"

Jaig: "but I don't want to be trained by Vader, I said I wouldn't turn and I meant it"

Cody: "it's alright, its alright. The one thing Vader has assured us of, is it he will not be training you in the dark side. And judging by the amount of effort he's putting into keeping you hidden, I'm inclined to believe him. He told us that you must block your self off from the force, what ever that means. Which is what he's going to show you how to do. Apparently it's the only way to keep the emperor off your scent. But like I said, one of us is always gonna be there should he try anything"

Fives:"yeah we'll look out for you kid, I know you miss your dad, and we're pretty poor substitutes, but we're here for you all the same"

Hardcase:"and we're not leaving anytime soon"

Dogma: "well not if we can help it"

Jaig "but where are we going?"

Cody: smile "to the closest thing we clones have to a home... Kamino"

Kamino had changed over the years, once the emperor had ordered to stop to any more clones creation. The cloning fasilaties had been abandoned by the kaminoans, along with all the rest of the untrained cadets who were all shipped of to the mustafa system to be trained and bred as the empires elite force of purge troopers.

The cloning facilities were left to the old now retired clones, to live out their days away from civilisation, many now wolowing in sadness and regret for their actions under the influence of their now un activated inhibitor chips.

The place Jaig and her other uncles were heading, was just a few hundred miles of from the main cloning compound. It had been kitted out with everything they might need, weaponry, shields, a food station, bedrooms, a bunkhouse, a training ground, and a shooting range. The only beings abord were now the clones, Jaig, the cook and the maintenance crew, well I say crew, it consisted of one male Ugnaught named Kuiil and three droid assistants whom he had reprogrammed to help with any and all clean up and maintenance duties.

Jaig would continue to live out there with her uncles for the next 5 years. They would go on to train her with any and all things clone, weaponry, though she had learnt a lot of that from her father's teachings, and the language and teachings of the mandalorian. The boys were insistent that she learn all of what little they knew of their heritage, as they were all descended from Jango, who was of mandolor. Any clone would tell you how proud the clones were of this heritage, and now they had someone to pass it all down to. They even taught Jaig the mandalorian wars songs that they had all learnt as cadets, and the Clone Haka, that had been performed by many clone troops over the years, before battle,. Much to the confusion and quite frankly terror of the B1 battle droids who witnessed them.

Fives: "ha your mum was pritty good at this to"

Jaig: now 12" my mum knew the Haka? "

She said, trying to picture her calm and serene togrutan mother, chanting, stomping and banging her chest along side millions of clones Warriors, all while making different faces and throatle sounds at the droids on the other side of the battlefield.

Hardcase: "oh yeah!! She was a natural, always shouting the chant in her loudest voice and making her scariest war face, like this 🤪😜🤪"

Fives: "and that my dear Jaig, was when your father fell in love🥰"

Vader came over as often as he could spare, when he was sure he couldn't be directed be his master or that anyone following him. Teaching Jaig how to disconnect herself from the force, telling her that if she continues to use it, the consequences would be severe.

Vader:"if the employer was ever to discover you exsisens, he would hunt you down in an instant, and kill anyone who trys to hide you from him. This is why you must never use the force again, and you must never leave. If anyone outside this fasilaty were to learn of your existence, you would be in mortal danger, as would everyone you care about"

Jaig: "but why couldn't my dad come? You could have had both our deaths faked and brought him here with me"

Vader: sighed "he is to mixed up with the rebel alliance, and besides, it was his reaction that sold your death to the universe. A trick I learned from my old master...the hard way"

He said bitterly.

Jaig knew she should hate him, he had taken her from her home, her friends and family. He had taken her mother, and it was because of his foolish decision to trust, a maniac, power hungy, sith Lord, that her family were forced to live in the shadows, and her mother, and father were force into separation when she was just an infant. She didn't like him by any means, she frequently tryed to avoid his at any turn. But she still couldn't feel hatred for him.

Cody: "na that your mother in you, she was never one to hold much of a grudge ether. She got angry at people don't get me wrong but she never hated them. She cryed over the potential execution of a woman who had Framed her for Murder once. And had taken the time to give all her deceased troops, who had tryed to gun her down a funeral. Even though she and your father where now on the run from the empire"

Over the years living there, she became closer with her uncles, or at least most of them. She argued with Boil on an almost daily basis, but they had their moments, she told him and Waxer how she met Numa, who was still fighting for the freedom of her home. She had a difficult time connecting with Dogma. He was very distance from her and didn't talk much. However she did like listening to him read. Dogma who had been a stiff by the book solder his entire life, and had been through so much, found he secretly quite enjoyed the company of his niece. But she spent most of her training with Fives and Hardcase. Both clones always new how to make her smile and told her many stories of her parents during the war, stories not even her parents had told her, (though they never much liked talking about the war), and she had given them a new lease of life, and new perpose. She was probably closest with Cody, he had know her father since they were both cadets, and was determined to teach her everything he knew, but he also showed his softer side with her. There were many a time he would be seen walking down the corridor carrying the young girl who was really getting a bit to big to be held, in his arms fast asleep from a long day.

She had also become quite good friends with Kuiil the maintenance manger, she learnt that he was paying off his debt to the empire through prolonged servitude, he had been in many battles he didn't believe in, until Vader; after seeing his reprogramming skills had, offered him a place on this secret compound. Kuiil had also taken quite a shine to Jaig, she was kind, and eager to learn the inner workings of the machines he fixed.

But yet again, even this would not last. After the destruction of the First Death Star, Lord Sidious had been furious with Vader, he tortured and demoted him. But through his touture he discovered the existence of the child Vader had taken such lengths to keep hidden from him. And through this new information, he devised a plan.

To brake his apprentices even ferther, he would force him to chose, chose between the life of his padawans child, who he had swarn to protect, and the life of his son, that he did not yet know about. But unfortunately for the emperor, he did not bargain for the tactical brilliance of the Clones.

When the empire, came to take the now 15 year old girl, they had already divested their own escape plan. They sent Jaig along with Kuill over to the kaminoan cloning facilities, turned clone retirement home, before the empire even entered the atmosphere. There she was frozen in to carbonite and fastened to the inside of the newly alcoved underbelly of a small one-seater Y wing (to insure the if the empire should come across them she would be well hidden and undetected, Kuiils cover story being that he was delivering supplies to the clones) there Kuiil would then fly far away from any siverlized planet. While, the clones continued to fight and defend the compound as though she was still there, and then proceed to escape themselves, using an old subship left over from the battle of Kamino. But not before bowing the place sky high, making it seem like the empires had fired at the fewl tanks corsing the whole building to be destroyed along with anyone who was inside.

This was not the out come Sidious had wished for, however with the now almost certain death of his ward, Vader plunged ever ferther into the void of darkness and hate. So the desired effect Sideous was planning for was reached anyway.

After being unfrozen from carbonite, Jaig and Kuiil parted ways. She chose to for her father, but it became fruitless. Chopper base had long since been evacuated and the rebel alliance was always one step ahead of her in their attempts to avoid the empire. For 2 years she searched for them, and fought the Empire where she could, until she finally stopped, delving into the belief that what ever family she knew was now gone, she rejoined Kuiil on a deserted planet called Arvala-7, while the galaxy celebrated the fall of the empire. Where for the next 5 years they would both try to live out their lives in peace, working the land and carrying for blurgs, until a mandolorian arrives on their planet, looking for a little green bounty, which starts of a whole new adventure for our now Adult Jaig.

OK guys let me know how I did, and if you would like to see Jaig's adventures with Din Djarin and little green bean Grogu. Let me know. I'm not much of a writer,. But I always got so irratated when reading Din Djarin/oc fics where to make her interesting, they give the oc force powers, with either no build up to it, or she's a run away jedi, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of season 2 were they're trying to find the jedi, so I thought I'd write my own. I wanted to have a character that has both a clear connection to both the mandalorian culture and the force, without making her a mary su. She has a connection to the force. But she can't use it, or control it. Therefore she can't train Grogu to use it. Which would mean they'd have to find the jedi, to help him learn to control his powers. Plus I don't want to just giving her everything with no preplanned reason. So here is my preplanned reason. I know these short scenes and conversations don't really delve much into her personality but that's were you come in. Tell me what you think of her, and what you think she's like as an adult. I wrote a few things like her kind nature and her sarcastic humour. But I could do with some ideas on what you would like to see. Let me know, and...

May the 4th be with you,😉

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ciggylungz · 4 years

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Rivals

Summary: Y/n and Harry are both CEO’s of their parent’s companies since they inherited the businesses from them, they’ve been rivals since they were kids- now that they’re professional adults how will their rivalry affect them? 2.2k

It’s no secret that growing up with a workaholic parent is hard for a kid, but for Y/n it was amplified due to the fact both her parents owned one of the most famous fashion companies in the world. This meant during most of her childhood she relied on nannies, private drivers, maids and child minders to care for her in absence of her busy working parents.

Of course having absent parents gave her some perks during her teen years, the ability to throw ragers in the absurdly large mansion they’d bought for the three of them –(well, they were hardly in it so mainly just their daughter)- not having to worry about getting caught when she decided to bring people over to get a quick shag in and the plus of having no one to bother her during her angsty middle school years. Those things were nice, yet you really can’t replace the role of your parents with teenage hookups and parties.

If there’s one thing that she absolutely hated about her parents work, it would be their former business partners cunt of a son. Harry Styles. Y/n had been forced to be in the twats life since they were 10 and his father joined stocks in her parents company before investing fully and becoming business partners. For Y/n that meant being forced to be around their son whenever their parents were too busy crushing numbers or out on boozy business trips clogging their noses with high end coke and buying out their competitors.

Harry was always a good-looking boy, and that only made things worse because he was a total prick. He was arrogant, annoying and always got away with being the biggest pain in the ass y/n has ever experienced in her life. He was insanely competitive, cocky and always found a way to weasel into Y/n’s business just to push her buttons. One’s he knew how to push perfectly to make her want to pound his head off a blacktop.

It was almost as if when it came to Y/n he never matured past being a 12-year-old boy, and now he’s a 23 year old powerful business man who still can’t manage to leave her alone.

Y/n had inherited her parents’ company when they decided to retire, two years before the retirement her parents and Harrys father had severed their ties and he’d gone back to his independent company. And just y/n’s luck, the man passed his roll as CEO down to his son, making the two young adults’ owners of two of the most famous fashion and beauty companies to ever exist.

Make no mistake, Y/n was a strong, independent and ruthless business woman so Harry’s subsequent inheritance didn’t threaten her in a business sense it more so made her worried for her blood pressure since the man couldn’t help but come bother her every chance he got. It didn’t help his dad had a single remaining stock left in the shoe portion of their clothing company giving Harry the perfect excuse to come barging into Y/n’s office to get on her nerves. To Y/n Harrys like a cold sore that won’t go away, just keeps coming back every time you think you’ve gotten rid of it.

___

Today was a busy day for Y/n, she had a meeting with her team that worked closely with her managing profit, stock, inventory, sales and all that stuff. Her team was large, with a company with over two thousand distributors worldwide and thirty-five exclusive stores scattered around the globe that’s to be expected. All in all, Y/n was responsible for making sure all one hundred and fifty thousand employees were running a smooth ship and every participating party was doing what they needed to do. It was a stressful job no doubt, but she never backed down from the challenge.

The meetings were always her least favorite part of her job. All the paper work that had to be read, numbers calculated, sales charted and any complaints or incident reports all had to be verbalized and talked about in detail with documentation of all the important things said as well as much more. Today the meeting took a grueling four and a half hours and the day was far from over.

Once she got out of her meeting it was nearing noon, she had to push her lunch off to phone the companies attorneys because one worker was trying to do a fake insurance claim. The man faked a work accident failing to remember every warehouse and factory was littered with security cameras that caught him in the act, so she had to inform them of the situation so they could sort it out. After that she got sucked into looking at new designs her design team had come up with for the next season, explaining that Chanel and Gucci both wanted to work with them to carry a few exclusive items only for that season.

Finally, at half passed two she made it back to her office, sitting down in her desk chair while taking her hair out of the headache inducing ponytail it had been in since she got there at five that morning. She opened her laptop, planning to send off some emails while she put in her order for lunch to her assistant, getting as much done as she could in the little bit of private time she was able to snag.

A knock sounded at the door, she knew it was Morgan coming in with the food she ordered so she didn’t bother to look up from what she was doing very drawn in to the email she was currently formatting. Only her attention was quickly severed when his voice rang out instead of the one she expected.

“I believe you ordered the chop salad, diet coke and fruit for lunch misses Yln.”

That annoying, cocky voice. You can hear his shit eating grin and teasing eyes simply in his tone, you don’t even have to look up at the jerk.

A prolonged sigh blew out of her lips, a grunt of annoyance following as she looked up at him. He looked nice, as always, she added bitterly in her own mind. She hated the fact someone so goddamn irritating was so undeniably attractive. He wore a dark blue suit, white button up with a black tie and yellow accent pocket square. Yet his fashion and handsomeness seemed a bit overshadowed by his personality that had the same affect on the woman as nails on a chalkboard.

“Harry, to what do I owe the displeasure?” Y/n reached her arm across the desk to snatch the paper bag from his ring clad hands, a sarcastic disapproving finger was pointed at her yet she didn’t take his bait opting to give him the death stare instead.

“Sassy today are we?” The man rested himself on the small leather loveseat that was in her office, propping his head on a throw pillow and putting his feet on the armrest. “You act like you’re not happy to see me, I know yeh missed me.” Y/n rolled her eyes, digging her fork into the salad aggressively. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been happy to see you, and I’m certain no one has ever missed your presence either.”

Harry chuckled slightly, loving how easily he could annoy the girl. Over the past thirteen years he’s learned just how to get under her skin, and he enjoyed doing so.

“Bit feisty today aren’t yeh Y/n? playing hard to get I see.” The man folded his hands on top of his chest, completely relaxing into the comfortable furniture, making himself comfortable for the undetermined amount of time he’d be spending there irritating his childhood ‘friend’.

The difference between Harry and Y/n’s perspectives on their rather odd ‘relationship’, if you could really call it that is Harry never hated Y/n. In fact he was always quite fond of her, he enjoys her company even when he’s forcing it on her and using the shared time to annoy the ever loving shit out of her. He and the woman have always been competitive growing up. In sports, card games, classes, and now business and Y/n took things a lot more seriously then he did. she was always wound a bit tight, she gets it from her mother.

Harry and Y/n had an interesting past. They have a love-hate relationship, seeing as even through the perpetual animosity they’ve carried since they were kids they did have their good moments too. And though Y/n would never admit it, there’s a part of her that does actually care about him even if she loathes that part of her deeply. In their teens they were at each other throats a lot, but in between that they would occasionally have their good days where they would refrain from getting into screaming matches and instead would be able to tolerate being together. Y/n chooses to describe it as tolerating him since she’d never admit she sometimes enjoys his company.

Through their formative years whenever Y/n was throwing a party, she wouldn’t protest when her friends would invite Harry as well. Pretending like she didn’t know he was coming and didn’t want him there when she saw him in the crowd, yet he always had a feeling she was anticipating and secretly wanted him to make an appearance. When he’d plan some sort of adventure with their friends he’d do the same, always slightly relieved when she’d show up but he’d put on the irritating act as soon as he got the chance which ruined her mood, every time. and well, it would be a lie to say the two never found themselves hate fucking each other after one of their parties, drunk and pissed at each other only to pretend like it had never happened.

To Harry, the animosity mixed with a hidden sense of fondness and maybe even a hint of attraction.

The woman ignored his comment, chewing her food before taking a swig of the soda looking back at him with a rather unamused expression. “What do you want Harry? And who the hell even let you in here?” she continued eating and wrapping up her email while he formed his reply. “Told Morgan I’d bring it up to yeh, she’s got a bit of a crush on me so she handed it over without much convincing.” Yet another eyeroll from Y/n was delivered. “She’s like 19, don’t manipulate her into worming into my office just because she can’t see that you’re a much bigger prick then the one in your pants will ever be.”

“First of all, 19 is legal so if she wants to eye fuck me I’ll allow it. Second, don’t be rude. This is a professional setting, do you think it’s appropriate to talk about my genitals in the work place? Might have to report you.”

Y/n couldn’t help the small snort she let out at his antics. As much as he annoyed her, sometimes she did find him a bit humorous. “and for the record, I’m very happy with my package and I don’t appreciate that comment.” He pointed a finger at her, a fake angry look on his face. “Just as much as I don’t appreciate you intruding on what was supposed to be my down time to eat, we’re even shrimp dick.”

Harry gasped at the insult, squinting at her slightly. While Harry was skilled in pressing her buttons, she could do it the same. Making comments on his dick size, sex skills, business deals or things of that nature always got him riled up. That 12-year-old boy mentality rearing it’s ugly head any time she makes a comment about his dick being small. Childish he was, absolutely childish.

“Don’t get smart with me, I’ll whip it out right here to prove my point.” His eyebrow raised and she could see him chewing on his cheek in annoyance. She truly found it funny how peeved she could make a grown man by making fun of his penis. He was ridiculous.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, I didn’t bring my mental scrub brush to work with me today.” When she had finished speaking the woman tossed her now empty salad box into the trash, taking another sip of her drink and finally sending off the painfully long email.

Harry decided it was time for him to head back to his own office, which was right across the street much to Y/n’s displeasure but of course he couldn’t leave without a final childish jab at the woman.

“Just remember, I’ve had you bouncing on my dick more than once. Don’t hold yourself so high and mighty dear, because we both know I’ll have you like that again.”

And with that a Harry with a cheeky smirk on his face left the office, leaving a slightly stunned Y/n in his wake.

(eek pt.1 lets see how this one goes.)

#harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles series #CEO!harry #CEO!yn #harry styles concept #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader

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siriuslyshewrote · 4 years

Text

Tell Me - Finn Shelby

Request - Hey girl can I just say I love your fics and I’m sorry they’re not getting the same amount of notes that they used to!😘 I think you’re fabulous and if it’s not too much trouble can I request Finn Shelby where he has to marry for a business deal? It can be angst/fluff:

A/N - arranged marriage AU’s I swear... they’re one of my favs. Also can I just thank @ the lovely requester of this for being so freaking nice??!?

1927

You both stood in the kitchen (your new kitchen, you reminded yourself), in what was the opposite of a comfortable silence. You both still wore the clothes you had worn to the wedding party, but the drink had worn off now, and you had both suddenly realised that you knew nothing about each other.

“I know this isn’t what you’re used to.” Finn Shelby’s hand gestured to the room. “The house, I mean. Well, I guess this too.”

You shrugged, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove, searching for something to do.

“I think the house is beautiful.”

He was right in a way. You had grown up in a grand country manor, with more rooms than inhabitants could ever fill, though their egos most certainly did. Your father had struck a business deal with Thomas Shelby - and the product of that was yours and Finn Shelby’s marriage, their alliance. You hated that they had bargained with people - especially that one of those people were you, but it didn’t surprise you.

Growing up, you had known you would end up in an arranged marriage - all the women in your family did, one of the most important choices in their lives controlled by men who acted like they knew better. Some part of you had always thought that perhaps it would be wonderful. Your mother and father truly had loved each other, before your mother passed away. Some part of you thought you would end up with the same, with a rich boy who maybe would be a bit of a prick, but would love you all the same. But instead of that, you had been engaged to a Peaky Blinder . And not only that, one of the Shelby boys.

You had thrown a fit at first - not wanting anything to do with the life that being married to a Shelby entailed , the drugs, the drink, the cheating, and more importantly , the constant threat of death if they made another enemy.

“My sister, Ada, she decorated it. She thinks she’s some sort of interior designer.” He let out a laugh, though it was halting and uncomfortable. He sounded as if he had about as much clue as what to do as you.

“She did it well.” You poured the hot tea into two mugs, going to pour milk, before realising you didn’t even know if Finn liked milk in his tea. You let out an exhale.

“Look, lets not pretend that either of us wanted this. Let’s just get on with it, yeah?” You didn’t intend to be harsh - in fact, your tone was soft, but you knew it came across as cruel.

He paused. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You tried to pretend that you couldn’t hear the hurt in his voice, as you cradled the mug of tea in your hands.

___________

Two Months Later

Finn appeared home relatively early for once, slamming through the door loudly in his usual day, at around half seven, startling the cat snoozing in your lap.

“I’m home!” He yelled.

“I think the whole street knows that!” You replied with a laugh, as he entered the living room, shrugging off his jacket, letting it drop onto the floor behind him, not particularly caringly, as he shot you a grin.

Ever since that conversation in the kitchen, you and Finn had lived together as nothing more than friends, though it took a while to build your relationship up to even that point. You thought it was the best way, at first, convinced you could never have feelings for him, and him, to you. Recently, however, you couldn’t deny that your feelings towards the Shelby boy were beginning to change.

He paused at the mantelpiece for a moment.

“You put up photos?” There was a smile in his voice, a small one, as he looked back at you.

You stood up, walking next to him, at your collection at the mantelpiece - his family photos and yours mixed together , almost as if you were a real family. For a moment, it felt like you were.

“I finally got round to unpacking, yeah.” You laughed a little.

“Is that your mum?”

You looked at the photo, the laughing woman, who looked so much like you, holding a five year old you on her lap, and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“She was beautiful.”

“She really was. I can’t remember much about her, of course. She died when I was only little.”

“Like mine.” Finn spoke softly, his eyes glancing to the photo of his mother, and all of his family, all of them looking a lot younger, and a lot happier.

“Do you remember much about her? I... I mean, I can’t about my mum. Just a couple memories, the rest is just... fog.”

“Not much. I remember this one time really vividly, though, I don’t know if it was just a dream. We were in the living room, just us two and Ada, and I remember her dancing with me. I remember her laugh, the most. I can still hear it, if I close my eyes.” His voice was soft, and his eyes were firmly focused on the photo, as if he was lost in the memory. “What about you?”

You paused for a few moments - you never really talked about your mother, but with Finn ... though you didn’t fully know him, you trusted him, a lot, already.

“I must have been only three or four at the time, but she took me out to the grounds of the house, and I picked a tree, and she made me a swing, from scratch. My mum loved stuff like that. I loved that swing. My dad cut it down after she... after she passed. I don’t think he could bear any reminders of her.”

You both stood in silence for a few moments, lost in the past.

“Your dads a bit of a...” Finn began, then stopped himself as if unsure if he was going too far.

“A prick? Oh, definitely.” You both laughed a little.

You rearranged one of the photo frames so the grinning boy in it faced you.

“Who’s that? I don’t remember meeting him-“

“That’s my older brother. Eddie.” Your voice caught a little as you looked at the photo - his war photo, the one they took when he was enlisted. It was the last one you would ever have. “He died - in the Great War , I mean.”

“I’m so sorry.” Finn’s voice sounded sincere, sounded truly sorry, was the first person who ever really had had that reaction.

“He raised me, really, after Mum died. He was my best friend.” Your fingers traced over his smiling face. “He promised me he’d come home. He nearly did - he died two days before Armistice.”

“Shit...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Do you know... where he’s buried? Is it in England?”

“They sent us a letter, telling us where he is. Somewhere in France. Calais.”

“Maybe we could go there, someday.”

You turned your face, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Sorry - was that stupid to say?” His voice was slightly panicked.

“No, no, no.” You said hurriedly,not wanting him to get the wrong idea, wiping away your tears. “That- that would be wonderful Finn.”

You reached out your hand to his, linking your fingers together, shooting him a grin, watching the corners of his smile pull up.

__________________

It was several days later, when you were walking home from the market, with the intention of cooking Finn a meal you had discussed a few nights ago, the one his mother always made for him as a kid.

You’d only just pushed open the gate to your cottage, when you noticed Finn rather haphazardly balancing in the branch of the old oak tree in the garden.

“Finn! What are you ... doing.” You trailed off as you got closer, noticed what he was doing.

Dressed in only a shirt and suit trousers, a small gash on his face that hadn’t been there when you left only a few hours ago, Finn was carefully securing rope onto a tree, that was connected to a small, wooden swing. You bit your lip, trying to keep your emotions in.

He shot you a startled grin.

“I thought you’d be out longer, I wanted it to be done-“ He carefully lowered himself to the ground, so he was facing you. “Before you got back.”

“You made me a swing?” You fingers brushed the rope, lip trembling.

“I remembered what you said the other night, about your dad cutting down your swing - I wanted to make you one here. I wanted to make it like... I don’t know, home.” His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes darting around awkwardly.

“This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Your voice cracked.

“You like it then?” He grinned.

“I love it.”

Spurred on by emotion, you stepped forward, one of your hands cradling his cut open cheek, eyes looking into his. Gently, unsure, you kissed him. He kissed back, not showing the awkwardness you knew he felt from his flushed cheeks, his hands going to your waist, and you realised how much you liked them there.

You pulled away after a minute, eyes going back to your swing, Finn’s hands still on your waist.

“Should we try it then?”

Your voice indicated towards the swing, but really, you thought, you meant your relationship. For the first time, you were certain you could grow to love the auburn haired freckle faced boy in front of you - if you hadn’t fallen in love already.

I forgot to tag people (I’m doing it now sorry)

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#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #isaiah jesus #finn shelby imagine

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widowsofchaos · 4 years

Text

Kool Aid, i

summary: One phone-call is all it takes to unravel regret.

pairing: Winterwitch (Bucky x Wanda) x black!reader

warnings: mentions of drug abuse, vulgarity, domestic abuse, childhood abuse, mentions of mental health; eventual smut, angst.

a/n: Beta the glorious @heli0s-writes aka mom. Thanks for your incredible insight, and commentary; and for teaching this rusty writer to be better!

ao3 // kool-aid masterlist

do not repost my works.

Inky indigo falls over Pennsylvania.

Moonless darkness cloaks the fifty-acre land. Skittering stars twinkle and gleam in the night sky like uncut diamonds - crickets chirp across the freshly cut lawn. The low hum of security light sensors buzz around the perimeter as patients sleep off their detoxed bodies.

Security guards slip into hazy slumber in their seats at the front lobby. Jumpy crickets ignite sensors and the white light filters through the one-window of a shared room painted creamy white, rays of artificial light flares upon two bodies.

“I burned and ached for wings. A child born from hate learns to self-loath like a badge of honor.”

A watery sigh infiltrates the deafening silence, interrupting your overflowing thoughts. “Jesus - that’s heavy.” The crumpled paper held between two brown spidery fingers, handing it back to you, you huffed a hollow chuckle, as you retrieved the tiny note-pad.

Beyond crumpled due to constant refolding, an anxious tick you never quite kicked, you mumbled a genuine thanks.

It’s difficult letting strangers read your poetry, you feel as if your skin was peeled off, and exposed raw for the salts of judgment. Writing has always been an escape from reality, releasing pent up emotions onto paper. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to stop the binging.

But with MJ, you never felt more safer. You were comfortable. You read her lines of Shakespeare, both sharing books and music. She taught you odd historical facts - recites buzzfeed unsolved mysteries to exact memory, facts about serial killers, and feminism -- observant, bold, honest -- a whizz this spitfire is.

It’s been a long-time since you felt the comfort of another person, just a year ago - you were abandoned, thrown out into the cold by the very ones who promised a better future. How naive, you actually started to joke that the drugs were finally starting to rot your brains for believing such bullshit.

A cruel joke, all the day-dreams, obsessing over the tiny details, because when you’re in love, all the tiny minuscule moments of the ones you yearn for is pure brilliance. As if they could do no wrong. Mesmerized with moon eyes as your beating heart bleeds over the stitches in your fore-arm.

Love is a monster. A beast that feeds on the mush of your scrambled brains. Destructing your flesh, ripping your skin apart with its claws, gnawing on bones, till finally it reaches your soul - that's love.

You fall hard, deep within hell’s pits, but it’s agonizingly slow. It doesn’t bring the best out of you, because life is unfair, and humans tend to savor evil acts of betrayal.

Layers of trauma, and depression unravel - the strings that attached your leaning limbs are flailing, you become yourself a clingy, and needy little beast. Bury it under grave dirt, the maw of pure unadulterated pain. The falsehood of euphoria dwindles from a ball of sunshine, to a dying star particle.

You lost what made you years ago.

Moving on a greyhound to PA to a pristine rehabilitation center was meant to recover, maybe learn how to be independent emotionally - recover from drugs, you weren’t too sure.

You shouldn’t have talked to MJ, confess your dirty secrets, insecurities, the relationship with your parents - except for a particular one - that one needs to wither in ashes.

MJ understands. The pain, and the emptiness. She’s been there, one in the same. No one understands, especially your parents. Not for the lack of effort, or so you think. Mom, and dad supported you physically: put clothes on your back, fed your belly, gave you your prescribed medicine - although muttered chastised indirects on how pills were unnecessary, you weren’t ill enough. If you’re not dying, or suffering from broken bones and bruises - you’re not ill.

They were your parents - it’s their obligation by default.

It’s duty, not love.

The addictions crept slowly over the years, progressing into aggressive vices - suffocating, but balms of comfort. You became a masochist to your demons: you would hurt in the aftermath, but kept running for more-- that one moment in time - as if you were floating into emptiness.

No one can hurt you there - where you are nothing. Weightless nirvana. Self-hate festers in your mind, you don’t even feel like your breathing. Then it happens - the fall. Your breathing slows down, rapid choppy spurts - your limbs become numb, your mind fizzles like TV static.

You know a lot of people hate you, and you understand that - you hate yourself too. If you could turn the hands of time, and change yourself, you would. You don’t do it for yourself, but you do it for your mom, and your dad - although you resent them at the best of times, but ever so the people pleaser. And now for MJ.

“You’re beyond talented. I wish I was good at something -”You cut her off, “No, don’t say that. You have so much potential. You just have to unlock it. I never met a person so intelligent.” You turn your head facing her side profile, admiring her button nose, and the smooth slope to the tip. MJ side-eyes you, her face straight forward, a curled smirk before she winks at you. “You really think so?” Hazily smiled at her, you nodded.

“I know so.”

You mourn for the girl you used to be.

You wish you were like a girl like MJ.

Beneath a snarky girl is revived dreams. With her brains, beauty, intellience - yet tenderness; she will make it far in life.

You? You’re surprised you made it past eighteen. Maybe God is gonna snuff you out at thirty. Damn, you hope so.

It’s all in your head.

Maybe you’re not trying hard enough?

You don’t want to get better hard enough - you’re lazy. If you did, you would be feeling better now.

You want to get better - but how? Fake it till you make it, right? Crying spells, and the dissociation hidden from the outside world. Exhaustion from laying in bed all day, the copious amount of shedded weight, the purple hues under your eyes - one time, you couldn’t leave the bed for days.

Refusing to relieve your bladder, all the urine just building - the cramps were monstrous. Got a uterine infection, and spent a few days laid up on a hospital bed.

Why bother? Why try? You’re too hurt to give one single fuck - your garden is barren any fucks to give. Slowly die, just lay in bed, and do nothing. Maybe one day, you’ll disappear. What a miracle that would be.

Cause quite frankly, you’re just fucking exhausted.

“Hey-” a poke on your ribs, “Where did you go?” MJ has been trying to gain your attention, but you slip hazily into that decrypted space, as always in that depressing bubble. It worries MJ, but doesn’t surprise her. Not anymore anyways.

“Nowhere special.” Your tongue turning sour from the kool aid you had earlier, nervously rubbing against your teeth. You wiggle your body more into your old navy blue university sweater, skin seeking desperately for warmth.

Like a child seeking their own personal woobie blanket - your bird-nest hair sticks to your face, too tired to brush it, MJ usually badgers you for her to detangle the curls and braid it.

MJ’s nimble fingers caress your hairline, weaving it’s travel into your matted curls, “Do you wanna talk about it?” Not yet. “Later, I’m really tired. Can we just rest a bit?” you ask, a bit breathless. Panic of abandonment sores through your veins. Your throat constricts, as your first tear of the night threatens to fall.

Your body instinctively twists, and shifts into MJ’s caring arms. “Sure.” A loving embrace, a friend. Finally a fucking friend - while your old ones spilt to find their own purpose, and sobriety.

All contact cut off - because of that one night. That fatal night. A croaked laugh slips from your plump lips, the cracks of your shield splinters, and shatters. Tears form at your squinted eyes, a smile reaches your ears, stretching your brown cheeks, and it hurts.

All of it hurts.

MJ shushes you, engulfing you in her arms, the smell of laundry detergent floods your lungs. It’s a certain smell your nose is familiar with; a homebody smell - anonymous in description, and name but nostalgic.

Smells of the past - you nuzzle your nose into her loose fitted shirt, the flaps of her red checkered plaid shirt curtain your face, a quick kiss on the forehead.

Wrists tucked against her shirt, afraid to let go. Please God, let me have just one friend.

“It’s okay.” MJ, a Queens girl, forced here by her parents, has seen pain like you have. Thin razor scars on her arms, and thighs tell stories of a frightened girl who seeks to feel alive through pain. Cuts, and slashes - to remind herself, ‘Hey I’m still here.’

Rubbing circles on your scalp, “I gotta brush your hair soon.” She understands, and does it with sincerity. Encourages you what you need to do to take care of you, and somehow you listen to her advice. Listens to your troubles, and instead of mindless efforts to move, she says things like ‘It’s okay, take your time. I’m here for you.’ ‘You’re important to me.’

The only good thing rehab has done for you is bring her into your life. All the droning repetitive phrases uttered out of that tyrant therapist of yours, ‘How does that make you feel?’ ‘Um, shitty. As always. Now can I please get some fucking valium?’ The kumbaya bullshit in group therapy is - no, not for you.

The fake closeness, holding hands for inner strength and even passed judgement bestowed by fucking assholes who abuses the same drugs as you, but different reasons - upon each other. It makes you forget how to breathe - the compulsive urge to count your breathing has gotten worse over the weeks.

Family workshops? Choke. Die. Rebuke it. You screamed, and threw furniture across the facility like a feral she-beast - shouting on the top of your lungs that you rather sodomize yourself with your own detached right arm then confront the very ones who fucked you up since birth.

Two needles of tranquillisation settled your lungs, and brain - that was a spectacular one-woman show of mental deterioration. You slept it off for a day, and a half.

Nine months of being rehab buddies turned into a full-fledged friendship.

Thank God for MJ.

A disembodied voice beckons you out of a dreamless slumber, bracing above you as you clutched onto a knocked out MJ. The blinding fluorescent tubes shine through the dreary dark room. A constant call of your name. Through bleary vision, you croaked, “Yes, God?” A low timbre of your name. Scolding an overgrown child. “Y/n, there’s a phone call for you at the main desk. It’s your mom.” You grumbled at Ms. Brown, a nurse administrator.

There’s an edge to her voice, it’s odd - she’s usually patient, and speaks in kind tones.

“Okay.” You groaned, your eyes too dry, and groggy to roll back to the base of your skull of annoyance. Carefully detaching your arms, and legs that were tucked in MJ’s petite frame, crawling out of the nest of wrinkled paper-thin sheets, as Ms. Brown awaited with her hip leaning against the door-frame.

Padding out of the room in white socks, black shorts, and an oversized pull over. Trailing behind the massive presence of flesh and bone, like a baby chick to a hen, down the hall to the main desk in the lobby. Embarrassed by your repulsive state, you hide your ratty hair in your hoodie, and stash your chewed nails in the pockets. Ms. Brown picks up the black rotary phone that laid on its back on the shiny desk. Was that pity in her eyes?

You searched for the clock that hung above on the wall, 3:38 am. You snarled, your mother must have a good reason to bother you.

It’s been about five months of no contact with her, your spine crawled at the anticipation to hear her voice. Clutching the phone between ear, and shoulder, “Hi, mom.” you deadpanned.

A sniffle, then a sob. Your brows furrowed, “Mom, what’s wrong?” mindlessly your fingers toy with the curled extension cord. “It’s your father, baby.” Your chest began to cave, your eye twitched, “What’s wrong with daddy?” your chapped lips spoke closer to the speaker, your knuckles whitening from caramel brown.

“Oh honey -” cut the theatrics, and spill it. “He’s dead.” A light in your head went out, your pupils widened, your breath stopped, your lungs shriveled to ashes, “How?” you wheezed.

Is this shock? You couldn’t tell - your mother’s nasally voice drowns into white noise, unshed tears form at the brim, all you heard was heart-attack - perhaps two funerals are at the horizon, you’re tipping at the iceberg - a potential asthma attack.

Ms. Brown keeps ushering the words, ‘focus on your breathing.’ A caring hand placed between your shoulder blades, rubbing in circles.

“You have to come home.” You wretchedly spit on the marbled desk, dry-heaved on the spot at those words, and Ms. Brown quickly snagged the phone from your hand, holding your trembling form in her soft doughy arms. “She needs to lie down for a moment. It’s three in the morning, so she needs some sleep. I’ll make sure she’s okay …” all the bulbs in your head burn out, an empty cranium.

You have to come home.

Back to Brooklyn.

Ms. Brown leads you back to your room, constantly asking if you’re okay. You reply robotically, yes. Tending to you, tucking you into your own bed as if you would fall by the sims. Cocooning you in the white blanket, reaches up to your chin. You close your eyes, trying to numb yourself.

You wait.

Till her footfalls fade, with a click of the lock. Wait at least sixty seconds, brown hues open with a careless flutter of the lashes.

A moment of peace - now search. Perked on the tips of your toes sinking into your mattress, you skillfully remove the ceiling tile above your bed, your hand snuck inside, c’mon, c’mon, where is it? Aha! Stretched fingers glide a plastic packet out of its hideaway. A little jiggle between your fingers, white powder of delight - a morning snack.

Skip over to MJ’s bed, you grasped her arm, and draped it over your shoulder. “What happened?” MJ mumbled, her eyes still shut closed, a beat of silence. “My dad is dead.” MJ’s eyes peel open at the news, “How?” You love that she doesn’t ask if you’re okay, because you’re far from it.

“Heart-attack.” MJ hugged your body tightly against hers. “The last time I talked to him, I screamed that I hated him.” Your voice wavered, muffled at the crook of her neck, “I never got to say goodbye.” MJ harshly swallowed the bile at her throat, she didn’t say a word. There’s no need, the impassive cadence was enough confirmation - the grief hasn’t fully ingrained in you.

“You’re gonna save some for me, right?” A half-hearted joke.

The packaged cocaine still hidden in the confines of your pocket bellows for your nostrils, to rub it against your teeth and gums - your parched tongue.

“Of course.”

You blink.

Another blink.

You sighed a distant exhale, your swollen heart dying against your cavity, and you blink.

All you can do is blink.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #winterwitch x reader #scarlet witch x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes smut #scarlet witch x reader smut #scarlet witch smut #marvel fanfic #modern au #avengers x reader

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valhallanrose · 3 years

Text

What Baking Can Do

@arcana-echoes

Mixed together the ‘Holidays’ and ‘Cuisine’ prompts for a bit of pre-holiday fluff between my sibling duo, Zelda and Tamryn. I hope you enjoy!

2.4k words

For as long as she could remember, Zelda had always found a certain comfort in food. Especially making it - somehow, it was the first thing she completed on her own after she lost her memories, entirely without Asra’s help, and it felt...so natural, like she’d connected with a part of herself that she didn’t know was there.

She supposed that’s why it felt so fitting that much of her reconnection with Tamryn revolved around food.

One of the first things he’d given her, when they both started to get comfortable with one another, was their family’s box of recipe cards. They were yellowing, edges worn and some of them stained, but she nearly cried at the aching familiarity of the swooping handwriting on each and every one of them even if she still couldn’t remember Evalina’s face.

So every week, at the end of the week, Tamryn came to her home, and they picked another card - making dinner or dessert as he quietly told her anything he could think of from the life they’d shared together as children.

That was how they ended up at her kitchen counter that night, jostling and ribbing each other as they did their dishes, laughing together as if they’d never been apart for a moment in time.

Tamryn cracked his knuckles as he put the last plate away, listening as Zelda rummaged around in the cabinets for the newly treasured box

“You didn’t lose it, did you, Zelly?”

“No, I didn’t lose it, I just put it somewhere safe.”

“Behind what sounds like an armada of pots and pans doesn’t feel ‘safe’.”

“Yeah, well, who’s going to look back there without making a ton of noise? Natural security system.”

Tamryn quirked a brow in her direction, his lips pulling up into a grin. “You have an actual safe, don’t you?”

Zelda paused for a moment before she blew a raspberry at him, pulling out the box in question. “Don’t make me get the spoon.”

Tamryn laughed at that, raising his arms to pull his hair up into a little bun when Zelda passed him a tie. “You sound just like mom. She used to wave this old wooden one at us both when we stole bits of food while she was making dinner. ‘You act like you’ve never been fed’, she’d say, but then she’d slip us a spoonful of batter or a bite of cookie dough while dad wasn’t looking while he was baking.”

“Did dad say anything about it?” Zelda flipped through the recipe cards as Tamryn scoffed, shaking his head with a grin before he reached for her hair.

“No, he’d slip us another and tell us not to tell mom. Which we never did, but I’m pretty sure they knew and just let us have it. Tie?”

She passed him one off her wrist, and he started to braid her hair back, the tie in question caught between his teeth. Zelda hummed idly as she read off a few recipes for him, most of them rejected by one of them for not being what they were in the mood for. It was only when Zelda paused at one to try and read the name on the card that Tamryn spoke up, setting his chin on her head and giving her braid a tug.

“I can hear the gears in your head turning. Which one is that?”

“Suf...sufganiyot? Is that right?”

“Yeah, you got it. Mom and dad used to make those at Hanukkah...I haven’t had them in ages. I’d be willing to give those a shot.”

After taking a few minutes to read over the card, Zelda eventually nodded, shutting the box and pushing it to the back of the counter. “Okay...yeah, I think I’ve got all the ingredients here. I’m not sure if I have enough jam but we could maybe do half with it and half with chocolate?”

Tamryn groaned, laughing as he stepped back and ruffled Zelda’s hair. “Yes, fine, you and your chocolate sufganiyot. I still believe jam is better.”

“You’re entitled to your wrong opinion, but chocolate will always be better than jam in any context. Now shush and get my mixing bowl since you can reach it without climbing on the counter.”

* * * * *

The process of making the dough was easy enough - though the yeast took an extra try or two to get right, much to Zelda’s chagrin - though she got Tamryn back for his teasing by making him do the kneading when it came down to it. It gave her the space to think, seated on the counter next to him and her legs swinging idly in the air in front of her.

“You said mom and dad made these for Hanukkah?”

Tamryn nodded, gaze loosely fallen on the light beaming in through the window as he kneaded. “Every year. I haven’t told you about Hanukkah, have I?”

“I know a little from the books I’ve found - the one day’s oil supply lasting eight days, lighting the candles in the hanukkiah...a lot of latke recipes. Why are there so many ways to eat potato pancakes?”

“Mom always explained it as a symbol of the oil - that’s why the sufganiyot and latkes are cooked in it as well.” Tamryn chuckled, elbowing her playfully as he worked. “You and I used to bicker about what was better to put on latkes. Mom always gave you applesauce because you hated sour cream. You had to have been six years old the first time you tried sour cream on them, and you scrunched your nose up so much that dad told you it was going to get stuck like that.”

Zelda snorted, leaning back to rest her head against the cabinets. “I still don’t like sour cream.”

“A couple years ago, mom showed me how she and dad used to eat them - smoked salmon, sour cream, and a bit of dill. It’s actually quite good, if you want to try it one day.”

“I’d literally rather die than eat sour cream.”

The blonde barked out a laugh, shaking his head and blowing a few pieces of hair out of his face as they tickled his lashes. “Yeah, I don’t think that would have changed much from when you were a kid.”

He was quiet for a moment, expression pensive, before Zelda reached out and gently tugged his sleeve.

“Tam? Are you alright?”

Tamryn blinked a few times before he paused mid knead, reaching out to pat her hand lightly where it rested on her arm. “I’m fine. Sorry, just...it’s weird, thinking about the holidays now. I haven’t really celebrated any of them since mom died. It didn’t feel right being alone, like…”

“...like everything that made it special was missing?” Zelda finished, and Tamryn nodded slowly, sighing as Zelda leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder. “Tell me about what it was like for us, Tam. When we were all together.”

She waited for a few long moments, patient as she stepped in when Tamryn was finished kneading, rolling the dough out as he gathered his thoughts and rummaged through her cabinets for a wide enough glass.

“We traveled a lot, so we didn’t always go to service during Hanukkah.” He began, the two of them cutting circles in the dough with the tops of a set of wine glasses he’d found somewhere. “But I remember mom would always make way more food than we could eat throughout the entire eight days and ended up giving leftovers away after Hanukkah ended. Usually to her colleagues, when she went to work, but eventually we both just became latke fiends as we got older and leftovers just became breakfast for as long as we had them. Sufganiyot were never around for more than three days, so dad always made another batch during Hanukkah and another at the end because he’d end up promising some to his friends and realizing he didn’t have any left. Which, by the way, he agreed with you that chocolate was better than jam in them.”

Zelda grinned as she placed a piece of chocolate inside one of the rounds, sandwiching it together with another as Tamryn prepped the oil. “It’s because we have good taste.”

“Mm, no, not in the slightest.” Tamryn laughed as Zelda elbowed his side, joining her in filling some of the sufganiyot with the raspberry jam in question. “We used to sit on the kitchen floor and play with the dreidel while dad was making the second batch. You were so competitive, but you ended up eating some of the chocolate gelt as soon as you got it, and by the time one of us won the pot we’d only have half of what we even started with in the first place. Not that I minded, we’d end up sharing anyway because I didn’t like them nearly as much as you did when I won. And I remember…”

Tamryn paused for a moment, swearing softly as he squeezed some of the jelly out of the dough he’d been pinching together and all over his hands. Zelda slapped a hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle her laugh, helping him clean up before he tried to refill the pastry itself.

“Where was I? Oh, right. Mom and dad used to let me light the candles each night, but there was one year you wanted to help - I was eleven, so you couldn’t have been more than five years old - but you were too afraid of the candles to light it on your own. So I used to pick you up and show you how to light them, every night, and we just never stopped. Eventually you got too big for me to hold you like that, but we always insisted we lit them together, even if it made it harder. I think we only stopped because we nearly set the curtains on fire one year and mom told us we had to alternate nights.”

Zelda laughed, shaking her head slightly as she dropped the first of the sufganiyot into the sizzling oil. “From what you’ve told me, singed curtains seem...unfortunately in character.”

“Oh, we were hellions.” Tamryn snickered, folding his arms across his chest. “Dad used to tell us that a bull in a china shop would be impressed by the amount of damage we caused in the house. It got to a point where we had to play outside because we’d knocked too many vases or knick knacks of his over from tumbling into every surface that wasn’t nailed to the wall or floor.”

The blond hissed quietly as he juggled a hot sufganiyah, rolling it in sugar, and grinning as he poked at it with the tip of his nail.

“Hey, these feel like dad’s! Hopefully they taste as good, too, he always was tweaking recipes. Never seemed to write them down either.”

“Oh, that drives Asra up a wall.” Zelda chuckled. “Aisha and I cook together sometimes, but we both adjust as we go, and whenever he tries to help he can’t rely on the cards we have.”

“Like father, like daughter.” Tamryn snorted, and the pair fell into a steady rhythm, Zelda assuring the sufganiyot cooked properly and Tamryn finishing them off with their sugar dusting. By the time they finished the batch, the sun had long since set, leaving them cleaning up and chatting idly in the comfortable warmth of the lights strung up around the kitchen. It was only while they were drying everything that Tamryn reached out, gently grasping Zelda’s arm to get her attention. When she turned her attention toward him, Tamryn released her, instead offering his open palms to her as he spoke.

“Zel, I want to celebrate again this year. With you, like we used to. I know you haven’t in a long time, and it won’t be exactly the same, but...I miss it. And I know I’ll have to teach you the specifics, I don’t mind.” Tamryn felt Zelda set her hand in his and gave hers a squeeze, a light smile on his face. “But only if you want to. I know it’s been a lot to learn, and Hanukkah is fairly tame, so...I thought it’d be a good place to start since it’s coming up.”

Zelda beamed at that, throwing her arms around her brother’s shoulders and giving him a squeeze.

“More than anything, Tam.” She murmured, planting a cheerful kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to celebrate again. Maybe we can invite some of my friends, too? It won’t be the same as having mom and dad, I know, but…”

“Found family is still family, Zelda.” Tamryn reached out and plucked up a sufganiyah, taking a bite out of it over her head and talking through the mouthful of dough. “Oh, shit, these really are like dad’s. We should make these again for Hanukkah.”

With a sound of indignation, Zelda shoved against his stomach, groaning as he squeezed her closer. “If you get jelly in my hair, you won’t make it to Hanukkah, now let me go so I can taste how much better the chocolate one is than the jam.”

“It’s not going to be.” Tamryn sang playfully, and Zelda rolled her eyes,

“We’ll have Asra taste them when he gets back. He can be the tie breaker.”

“Given that he eats skink, and you two are dating, I’m not sure that’s a fair judgment call.”

“Why do you think I’m suggesting it?”

Tamryn laughed again, wrapping an arm around Zelda and giving her a playful squeeze as she too took a bite of her sufganiyah -

Only to groan in dismay and cause an outburst of laughter as she realized she’d gotten one full of jam, not the chocolate she’d expected - but she couldn’t seem to mind as she looked up at the brilliant, bright smile on her brother’s face, and couldn’t help but feel like she’d found that something that’d been missing all this time.

#zelda hollyheart #arcana echoes #my writing #tamryn olenev

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peachymess · 3 years

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Any advice on how to deal with bad news or an undesirable outcome? Or just anticipating the worst? I've always sucked at handling that and I'm not dealing with the last chapter of SNK well. Any general tips for the future? 😔

Hi, anon. I’ll do my very best to give some advice, although it is not lost on me that it’s a bit of an ironic act, as I can be very slow to let go myself. But then again quick, it just depends.

And what it depends on, is emotion dependency.

If I have used something as a comping mechanism, connected something directly to my happiness or health, or otherwise feel like I need something in order to be ok, then... it’s hard to accept losing it. For instance, I can not stand change in my childhood home or mom and dad’s mountain cabin - and least of all grandma and grandpa’s country side cabin. Why? Because due to my depression, I feel like happy moments is hard to obtain. I know I’ve had many good moments in these places, and so I’m terrified of them altering so that they will no longer be able to produce the same happiness-inducing environment as in the past. (But guess what, there will always be happy moments; I am not dependent on having any given building/place accessible to me in order to obtain it).

What I’m trying to say is, the most important advice is this: don’t trick yourself into thinking your life or happiness makes or breaks depending on this or that thing. Bar the things you actually need, like meds and doctors and all that (I trust you to tell essential and non essential dependencies apart). I’ve made this very mistake. I put an ‘=‘ between “my ability to be happy/live” and “Armin surviving the story”. And at one point: “snk in general”. Try not to to give into that urge. This is a coping mechanism. When you need a solid thing to turn to, because happiness feels otherwise too elusive. In the future, try not to take the easy way out and bind yourself to something so concrete. Because when you do - when happiness begins to actually depend on something concrete never changing - you will at some point lose. Because everything solid eventually changes. Ends. Sours.

So begin to build trust in yourself. The goal is to know that even if everything around you crumbles, you will be ok in yourself. I’ve come to learn that this also applies to people. All friendships change over time. Some last a lifetime, others drift apart. Others might hurt you. And it’s natural to hurt from drifting or betrayal... But so long as you don’t lean your full weight on someone else, you will maintain your balance once a pillar crumbles. Just like older family will one day leave you and you’ll need to be secure enough in yourself to stand not having parents to run to forever.

... ok, that got bleak, I’ll shift gears. Anon, for the future, my advice would be to approach situations with the knowledge that very few things will actually break you. And even more: that no situation has a fixed way of being read. Take arriving too late at the bus stop, for instance. The bus is pulling back into traffic and you barrel after if, but it’s too late. In the dust, you stand there panting and cursing. It’s easy to get mad, say “day ruined” or worse “damn it, this is the third time I’ll be late for work, I’m getting fired”. But... the bus is lost, man. It’s done. It is something you can’t change now. So you have two options: either spend your good time pulling yourself down into the negative by cursing how much you hate what is. OR, you can acknowledge that this turn of events leaves you off somewhere, and utilize it the best you can. It’s the “when life gives you lemons” - only with dogshit. Yeah, it smells bad and I guess you could like... make it into compost or something. Or, anon, you can just walk away from it. Who said you had to take the shit?

Now that you have to wait for the bus anyways, might as well take the time waiting to listen to some more of a podcast you like, or reply to the emails you didn’t get to answer before running out the door. And what about the job? Well, firstly, it’s not a given yet that you lost it. But if you did - listen. This is where the “many ways to read a situation” comes in. Who decided this job was your only possible path? You. And falsely. “No, it’s the only job I could get, I can’t just sell the house and live in an RV for a year selling my art on Etsy”. Why not? That’s you deciding certain options to be a non-option. But the option is there. Do things come with work and sacrifice? Yes. Just like the job you had meant you had to live within physical reach of it. Every path takes you shaping to their requirements. And some things might seem daunting because it asks you to bend into a new shape than you’re used to. But look at all the different kinds of people and paths taken by people. Losing that bus today, was not a make or break of you having any path at all. It didn’t end your path. If it did anything at all (because who knows, maybe work didn’t even notice you came late or turns out there was a flood so they were closed anyways), and at most it just altered the path.

This is my stilted way of saying: when you realize just how non-essential most things are to your life - how you’ll always be ok as long as you keep going and looking for solutions - you’ll stop feeling doomed every time seemingly bad stuff happens.

“So you want me to be apathetic and care about nothing?” No. Not at all. I want you to love and enjoy the life around you. But I want you to be ok with it not lasting forever. Because when something ends, you don’t end. For you, their end, only alters your surrounding.

I don’t know if I’m making sense. And if I am, I’m still aware that “that’s just the way it is” is a hard pull to swallow. I know some situations are much, much harder to be ok with... and to that I say: yeah. I’m sorry about that. Some paths are harder than others. And some paths are only available to some and not all. But mindset is - simply is - your most important tool. You have the power to make any situation awful to you, or even good.

When bad shit happens to me, I have that essential steam blow of going through all the negatives, then I breath and look around for where to head next. I move on, because I realize no amount of moping will undo or alter the situation. It’s up to me to make something of the lemons/dogshit - or leavening it to find something else. Otherwise, I’m just standing still on the trail, crying next to a foul smelling shit for eternity. No thanks.

Another good trick I’ve found for when unlucky things alter the path, is this: I ask myself “what lesson can I take from this?” I even go as far as think “I guess this was meant to be a lesson for me”. I try to always find a way to grow from a situation, good or bad.

I don’t know... it’s taken a long while for me to live by this as well, anon, but I think the most important thing is just attitude. If you tell yourself: “I am able to grow from bad experiences and move on”, you will be more prone to do so, than if you say “this has ruined my life”. The event was the same, but the mindset shaped it.

So I ask you... even though it’s bitter, will you be able to heal from snk with time? Will you be able to move on and grow?

#I believe in you anon #anon #snk 139 #Also lifehack: listen to music with banjo in it #I’ve found that you can’t be mad or mopey when you listen to banjo #oh my god I love banjos

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eury--dice · 3 years

Text

history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

23 notes · View notes

studentville-struggles · 4 years

Text

A Double Life

Chapter 5!!

A self-indulgent Daniel Ricciardo fic.

Summary: Returning to old passions results in the start of chaos and living a double life. We say we hate chaos, but the thrill is unlike anything else.

Words: 1,941

Masterlist // Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

F1 was no joke.

PhD’s were no joke.

You were exhausted. Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover how you felt. Were you dying? Who even knew at this point.

One monday your legs finally gave out as you were walking into university, collapsing from the exhaustion you were fighting. Thankfully you had just made it into your building, the porters quick to call a medic. You actually ended up having to take a couple of days off of lab work and go home and just spend some time sleeping and spending time with your parents. Your supervisors were so worried for your health and the stress you had been putting yourself under they pretty much banned you from the lab for a week.

You still did the workouts you needed to and prepped for races from home. You just did everything on more than five hours sleep. The luxury. It was so damn needed.

Speaking on the phone to Lando one night, the two of you becoming closer friends since being team mates and him checking in more frequently since finding out about you collapsing, you had been joking about how nice sleep was.

“I used to think that being ordinary was boring. Now I’d do anything for a 10 hour nap and a chippy.”

Your little exhaustion moment had scared you a little bit. You’d always managed to do everything. You could have two intense lives and work it. You had felt that for the last three years you mastered juggling a double life. Was it finally coming to crumble around you? Was this it, was the dream over?

You wouldn’t allow it. You couldn’t. Youd fought so hard for this, to have your cake and eat it. It was never meant to be easy and you knew that, this was just one more thing to overcome. Once you had your PhD you would be able to live any life you wanted. You might even be able to sleep seven hours a night on the regular.

You would make this double life work for a little longer, you had to.

Having re-evaluated routines and switching things up so that you could make the most of both lives whilst still being healthy, you were feeling confident, comfortable and it was growing with each race that passed. Sure, not all of the results were what you dreamed off; after all you were yet to tip Lewis off his pedestal, but you were getting there. Getting the car to do your bidding was the first half of the challenge. Now you just needed to do that, but better than every one else on the track.

The other thing to come out of your health scare; especially after some of the drivers have commented on your less deathly appearance was an interesting change in your friendship with a certain Australian.

Sure, you had the big change from thinking he was rude to being caught smiling at his texts, to hanging out in Australia at the start of the season. That you had kind of seen coming; but this? This was unexpected, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it currently.

After finding out about your little incident, Daniels’ entire energy changed. He was visibly concerned about you, whether you were better now, how you were doing getting everything under control for good. His reaction to discovering the in-depth extremeness of your routine having binged watched your show – he claimed it was a curious interest to occupy his flight but you knew it was to be nosey and you didn’t mind that – was even stranger He had effectively cornered you at the paddock in China with a written out list and spluttering of expletives with the general message of “what the fuck, no wonder you're exhausted.’.

The frequency at which you two texted and chatted was steadily rising as your friendship bloomed but after his discovery of ‘the incident’, it had sky rocketed. Both in general conversation, but also in his concern for you overdoing things. He’s started to make a point, like Lewis often does, to ensure you take a bit of time for you and to relax; so movie and game nights are now a little thing you get when you meet up for a face to face catch up.

The vibes between the two of you were shifting ever so slightly and you weren’t entirely sure where there were setting themselves.

---

You were very lucky in that your family would often come to support you, especially your mum and dad. Albeit your mum couldn’t watch half of the races due to her fear that her little girl was going to be hurt, but she was there every chance she had.

As the season progressed and you were getting some races closer to home, you felt it was about time to invite the main group of people who were yet to see this side of you. Given the intense patience and grace they had given to you, supporting you though everything and allowing your camera crew all access; it was time to invite your boss. Well your other boss. Your supervisor.

Getting back into the swing of things at work in the lab after the Spanish Grand Prix, you felt it was finally time to give back to your lab family.

“I’d like to take you to work next week, and maybe a few others once I check numbers.” Your supervisor knew what ‘work’ meant for you but with more and more people questioning your regular three day weeks, you were starting to feel like letting your two worlds collide a little more.

“Where is work next week? Monaco?”

“Yup. I’ll give my media team a ring and see how many we can take including hotels and go from there”

“Including?!”

“Full VIP, would be rude of me not to.”

A short phone call later, with some rough numbers figured out, you had five full VIP passes at your disposal. Given you rarely have guests at Grand Prix’ they allowed a few extra tickets this time. As one would imagine with a free weekend in Monaco, the academic staff in your research group snapped up those tickets in no time. Of course, with the amount of time spent in your offices and labs, you were safely assuming three of the five had no idea what your job was, though were very curious as to how and why it was taking you to Monaco.

Academic life was no joke. Everyone was busy, everyone had very little free time. Watching sports was only done by super fans really. There weren’t any motorsport super fans in your office and somehow both your show and driving career had still remained unquestioned. How that was true with the camera crew still following you around, you had no idea.

You had sent out a rough, and very vague itinerary, reminding them to be ready to leave work at 6 pm on Wednesday, heading straight to the airport. You had also sent strict dress code instructions- the smarter end of smart casual, knowing that they would likely, if not definitely, be appearing on camera.

With some of your team meeting you at the airport, ready to get your race weekend media started, the confusion of your university colleagues was growing. It peaked as they had you film a short clip to start the weekends media off, it was only a short Instagram story, post hair touch up, to say hi to fans.

“Hey guys, just me taking over the Instagram stories! We’ve just arrived at the airport to head over to Monaco! Can’t wait to see you guys this weekend and I’ve even brought a few colleagues from the university so you’ll be seeing my two worlds collide as well! See you soon!” Waving at the camera, you cut the video. With all thumbs up from your team, you uploaded it to your team Instagram, views piling in almost immediately.

“Rachel what the hell do you do?!”

“Oh you’ll see soon enough, I don’t want to ruin the surprise now.” You teased, surprisingly enjoying the suspense.

Walking up to the private jet having gone through security with ease, the shock was only increasing, though you everyone was feeling very excited for the flight now they saw the plane. Things were fairly calm after this, the journey quick, smooth and you avoided giving too much away.

Arriving at the hotel you sent everyone off to their rooms, giving timings for meeting the next morning. You would be leaving before them to start greeting the media and doing some press conferences before your track walks, and so had arranged for a few cars to be sent for transferring the rest over to the main hub. Once they were all happy with the plans, not that you’d given many details, merely timings, you could head to your room where Daniel had snuck over waiting to reunite.

He had many complaints about spending the evening having your catch up in a hotel when he had a perfectly good home a few minutes away. At some point during the evening, after the food had been demolished, the words said and a crappy Netflix original on the tv, the two of you had fallen asleep. When you woke a couple of hours later, you were awkwardly hunched on the sofa still, somehow having entangled yourself with Daniels body.

Realising that it was far too late to send Daniel home, you both needed sleep if you were to survive the media day, and you couldn’t send him on his way in the small hours of the morning. Trying not to wake him too harshly, you start untangling yourself from the mess of legs. With Daniel starting to stir, you grab his hand, wordlessly pulling him from the sofa, over to the hotel bed.

Still in the silence the middle of the night brings, Daniel shed the majority of his clothing, slipping under the covers in only his underwear, with you following soon after as you quickly change into your sleepwear.

For something so foreign in your friendship, the ease and comfort at which you snuggled together, falling asleep again under the covers, was almost unnerving. Almost. In your sleepy state, you couldn’t recognise that, only time would reveal that.

Having snuck off to begin your media day trackside, you were eager to see your lab colleague's reaction to where they were. It was as you were heading back into McLarens hospitality that you, as well as the whole group, could see the full magnitude of this job and how it differed to the Rachel they were used to seeing in the office.

“You’re a driver?” Shock? Disbelief? You couldn’t quite tell but the reaction was

“Yes”

“What the fuck? But you’re in the lab like 10 hours a day”

“Now you know why I don’t have time to get things done otherwise in my three-day weeks.”

Once the shock wore off, the excitement and initial questions had settled, you set the group up with timings for the day and let them wander round the paddock freely as you headed back to your meetings, promising to see them during the lunch break.

Having your worlds united felt good. It felt as though some of the pressure you hadn’t realised was there from keeping them separate, was melting away. Although the feeling that was beginning to bubble away every time you bumped into Daniel was very close to being a distraction.

You needed to drive; just get in the car and block everything else out.

#studentville-struggles #rachel tries to write #a double life #dr3 #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo x reader

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