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delwrites · 3 years

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Dating Tom Holland Headcannons

if you’d like me to expand on any concepts, drop me a request! I have loads of ideas oof

also, these are just my opinions and thoughts! so there will definitely be some ooc and we may disagree, but do feel free to tell me which points you disagree with! would love some feedback :)

right i’m sorry I’ve no clue why but I just see him as quite an emotional person? like him being so mature that he’s just fully intact with his feelings and doesn’t ever feel the need to hide them around you because he knows you wouldn’t judge him. like him having a lot of rough days but as soon as he sees you just instantly perking up a little bit

or literally just collapsing in your lap when you’re trying to watch something on the sofa and him just letting it all out for you to listen to as you hug his head to your chest and run your fingers through his hair

him being so scared he’s gonna lose you as you’re literally a goddess in his eyes so he always makes sure you’re happy

him always letting you choose whatever you guys watch (as most of the time he will concentrate more on you than the tv)

he would build you both a blanket fort with fairy lights and pillows and it would be the most comfy thing ever

if you choose to put on a scary film, expect him to be stuck to your side like glue, hiding his face in your neck/ chest in the scary scenes because he doesn’t care about being a mAnLy MaN

he would DEMAND that you carry him up to bed because he insists that if he leaves the cocoon of warmth that your providing, the monsters may get him

him being the bigGEST MAN-CHILD WITH YOU OH GOD

like you two literally just playing games and stuff

playing just dance and him being surprisingly good?

but then beating his behind at Mario kart

also side note but you and paddy would get along SO WELL and you’d spoil the life out of him and play games with him, and whenever you play Mario kart with him and Tom, you’d let paddy win, you’d be in 2nd place and Tom would be all the way back in 11th absjdjd

“well, at least I didn’t lose?”

and both playing animal crossing together and visiting each others islands and his is a mess whilst yours is all vibes and lovely

you and him having FIGHTS over monopoly BSIDHSHS that game RUINS friendships I swear

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON LEGO HSCGIYSEGCI

him buying you a promise ring AWWWEEE and then claiming it’s because he wants a part of him on your person at all times (so naturally, you never take it off)

him going shopping with you because he’s the biggest hype man and always going in the dressing rooms with you so you end up buying loads of outfits because he assures you that you look incredible in all of them

him carrying majority of your bags and holding open all of the doors for you (which would admittedly be a bit of a struggle with the amount of bags he ends up carrying for you VUGJYBEK)

the pap pictures this would provide!!!

also you going on dog walks with him and Tessa and him always insisting you take his coat if you ever forget yours

always visiting him on set whenever you can

whenever he has free days spending them not doing anything just cuddling into your side

him trying to teach you basketball but you always being clumsy and dropping the ball

if you ever trip best believe he wouLD NOT LAUGH ITS LIKE YOU’VE DIED

RDJ literally adopts you because we all have daddy issues and we all need that in our lives

then tom and his dynamic becoming so much more like Tony and Peters dynamic HDSBDYAB

tom asking rdj for permission before doing practically anything with you

“um, sir, could I borrow your daughter? for like, the rest of our lives?” FUHIFUEHIUFH

rdj being so protective of you oh lord

and you always going to him for advice because he’s a wise soul who can always help you, especially with relationship advice

tom getting low-key jealous pretty often, like although he has full trust in you, he (as previously mentioned) views you as a goddess who is just the definition of beauty and love and believes that you could have any man in the room (which you can queen go off) and constantly being nervous that something will happen

him being really good at not showing it though

death stares from across the room and then giving you the sweetest smile if you look (like seriously, too sweet, suspiciously sweet)

I feel like when you both get alone his demeanour just instantly changes and he goes really cold and distant all of a sudden, it’s almost as if he deflates, the drive home being so tense and him going directly to his room when you get home, but later on he gets sick of ignoring you and goes to you to talk about it properly and makes it up to you

your confidence sky-rocketing when getting with him because he gives the most obscure and yet heartfelt compliments at any chance he gets, so you know they've come from heart with how random they are

“yes darling work that top!”

“love, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but you ears are really pretty?”

right I know this is literally everywhere but lets be real here, he ADORES you in his hoodies. sharing clothes is so intimate to him, and each time he sees you walking about so casually in his clothes, he falls that little bit more in love with you (no matter how much he thinks that that isn’t possible)

you accidentally walking in on his lives and either saying the most chaotic or the most lovely things, and the chat absolutely living for it

“Love, are you busy? I was just thinking about taking Tessa on a walk, to that park she loves?”

or,,, “THOMAS STANLEY HOLLAND! IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME TO TAKE YOUR DIRTY PLATES TO THE KITCHEN, I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST! I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER, NOR YOUR CARER, SO DON’T TREAT ME AS SUCH!”

the chat blowing up being little shit stirrers like ‘oooohhhh she called him by his full name he’s in troubleeee’

Tom just pointing at his phone timidly being like “darling.. I’m live right now..”

“I DONT CARE! SORT YOURSELF OUT, YOU CAVEMAN”

him getting so embarrassed BDKDNDJD

also I’m sorry right but bathing together after a long and difficult week, or after not seeing each other due to contradicting schedules and what not, not in a sexy times way or anything but just being so intimate and comfortable around each other

and obviously this little pamper night would call for doing face masks together and painting each other’s nails

him finding it so fun to paint your nails (even though they end up really messy BDJDNDJD)

he is a magnificent chef and no one may tell me otherwise

having the arrangement of him always cooking dinner and you always washing up the dishes

but after he sees you dancing around the sink, ending up joining you (after watching you for a minute of two with heart eyes, of course)

even though he is an incredible cook, being such a bad baker. like, for one of your anniversaries, he tries to bake you a cake, but it ends up literally bubbling in the oven and spilling over the sides and never cooking all the way through and it just being a mess

you trying it out of pity and ending up getting ill, so he stays in with you to take care of you because even though both of you fail to admit it aloud, it was him who made you poorly

you decide to do all the baking at that point

every time you do decide to bake anything, always saving him the biggest and best piece

and don't even get me started on how well you’d get along with his family

like the first time he introduced you to them they were all so so so welcoming and loving and literally just took you in as their own (not as much as rob did though rdj is number one)

again, always playing with paddy

teaching paddy how to bake AWWW and always getting him the best presents

you, harry and sam literally just embarrassing tom with stories

you and harry deciding to prank tom together because tom pranked you once ages ago but after your reaction, decided never again, so of course you have to get him back

Tessa loving you so much, and tom always being able to tell when she misses you (mainly because he can relate)

having an argument that he didn't think was a big deal and where he thought you were overreacting but then hearing you call him Thomas and it setting in that it is a big deal to you and fixing it

again, please do send me an ask or pm me if you'd like me to expand on any of these! im just overflowing with ideas for this incredible man, so do ask :)

#tom holland x reader #tom #tom holland #marvel #marvel x y/n #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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myglogic · 3 years

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Priceless | Bang Chan | 05

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Pairing: rich kid! Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x female reader

Genre: Crime, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count: 3,8k

Summary: After Chan found out who you are, he seeks advice from non other than you own father.

DISCLAIMER: Everything in this fanfic is fiction - that includes Chan’s fictional father who of course does not represent Chan’s real father! ♥

As you managed to get all of flour off your hair, you had no idea that Chan was snooping in your room. You were still feeling a little giddy from the little flour war and you found yourself wanting to spend more time with Bang Chan.

You finished cleaning up fast just so you can spend more time with him but when you left the bathroom and didn’t find him in the living room, you got an uneasy feeling. Then you saw your bedroom door, wide open. Maybe he just wanted to have a look, right? You then walked in the while drying your hair with your towel, hoping that he would just look at your decoration. But no.

He was looking at a dress. No. The dress, from the gala.

You dropped your towel in shock and the first thing that came to your mind was saying, “I can explain.”, with a shaky breath.

Chan stood there eerily calm, still staring at the dress. “You can?”, he said in a tone that was creeping you out.

You didn’t notice the tears flowing on your face. “I can! Chan, please. Let me explain this calmly to you.”

He then looked at you with glance full of disappointment and anger. “Oh, really?! What the hell do you want to explain, huh? Do you want to explain the fact that you have been basically stalking my father? Or the fact that you were the girl who exposed everything to the public at the gala and ruined my father's reputation?! Where do you want to start?”, Chan literally exploded and you felt burned by his words. Everything he said was true.

“I-I’m sorry. But I have an explanation!”, you said while crying and trying to calm him down as you were walking towards him.

“No. Y/N. I don’t want to hear it! You have been using me! And to think I fucking trusted you!”, he took a step back from you.

“Chan, please…”, you sniffed.

“Don’t cry ‘cause you brought this on yourself! Just… leave me alone. I need time to think.”, he said as he harshly brushed your shoulder to take his things. “Don’t call me.”, Chan then left with a loud slam of the door.

You sat down on your bed, now fully crying. This wasn’t normal. You should be crying because you lost Chan as an informant for your article. However, you were sadder about the fact that you lost Chan as your friend.

♥.

Chan was furious and he knew he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. But it was obvious that you wanted to harm his family. Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense why you would spend so much time with him. Chan sat in his car, running his hands through his hair, almost ripping them out.

He felt hurt. For the first time in forever it seemed like someone truly cared for him. He was wrong once again. Chan tried to get his act together and decided to go to a nearby restaurant. He was really hungry and couldn’t think straight at the moment.

It was a Korean BBQ restaurant and Chan sat down to drink some soju and eat to calm down. He felt horrible after what happened. It wasn’t like Chan to lash out on someone like that. Did he go too far? Did he hurt you? Thoughts like these were plaguing his mind. He knew that he had every right to be angry. But maybe he should have given you a chance to explain yourself.

“Oh…I know you!”, a man, who was Chan’s waiter, said and looked at him with a fond smile on his face. The older man who was serving him his food looked familiar.

Chan sighed, normally he isn’t that well-known but some of the older generations knew him and his family. He really didn’t want to be recognized now. “Do I know you?”, he asked politely, trying to be respectful.

“No, but I know your father. I recognized you immediately.”, he said while smiling at Chan. “You don’t look good, though. I should bring you some more meat!”

“You don’t need to do that, sir. I just ordered.”, he said, trying to convince the man.

“A young man like you needs to eat. I know that I need to eat a lot when I feel down.”, he said and quickly brought him more meat.

“How do you know that I feel down?”, Chan asked the man who looked very wise. He seemed to know what he was talking about.

“Can I sit down for a second?”, the man asked and got a nod in response. “The name is Byungho, by the way. You know, I see it in your face. I see a lot of young people here with that expression. My daughter often has that look on her face too. She is always so worried but still tries to be positive.”, he then took out his phone to show a picture of her. “This is my daughter Y/N. Despite the fact that I couldn’t give her the best life, she was still so grateful…”

Chan’s eyes widened. Now he remembered why he seemed so familiar. In your apartment he saw a framed picture of you and your family. Maybe this was what he needed. To talk to your father. “I guess you’re right. I got… some problems with a friend. She lied to me and I don’t know how to deal with it.”, Chan sighed.

Byungho gave Chan a warm smile. “Friends can give you a tough time, that’s true. But you know what? You can find a solution to be happy. Let me tell you about my friendship with your father. I bet he didn’t tell you about me.”

Chan turned to Byungho, giving him a look of curiosity. “You know my father personally? I thought you recognized me from the media or something.”

“Actually, your father and I were best friends back then; Chan.”

January 1993

“Hey, Byungho! Try to catch the ball!”, Kevin Bang said as he dribbled the basketball.

“Oh, you bet!”, Byungho said excitedly as he took the ball from him. “Loser needs to pay for the food.”

Kevin smirked at his best friend. “You think I’m gonna pay? I don’t even have money, man!”

“As if I have the money. Come on!”

“We would always play basketball together and went through thick and thin even in school. We would always help each other. Your father actually helped me to date my wife.”, your father said and remembered the fond memory.

“Come on, Byungho! She won’t wait forever. You need to ask her out. Otherwise Kyungsoo will and we don’t want that, do we?”, Kevin patted his best friend’s back and shoved him towards the girl he liked.

“Okay, Okay!”

“Wow, he did that?”, Chan said, not expecting his father to be so romantic.

“Yes. He did that. I do have to thank him for that.”, Byungho said.

“What happened? You both are obviously not talking to each other anymore. Why?”

Your father sighed. “I don’t know if you want to hear this. But a lot of things happened. This is not exactly the nice part of the story.”

March 1999

“Byungho! I invested in my first property!”, Kevin said excitedly as he sat down next to Byungho. “I will be rich in no time!”

“Congrats, mate! I hope that you will be successful. And I got accepted to culinary school. I will hopefully become the best chef in Seoul and serve the best food!”

“Dude, I will be your sponsor and you will cook me some nice meals!”, Kevin said and shook your hand. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chan looked at Byungho, confused. “This restaurant doesn’t belong to you, right?”

Your father shook his head with a sad expression on his face. “No. But I did have one back in 2004. I also had a lot of customers.”

Chan seemed overwhelmed by all this new information. “What happened?”

July 2004

“Kevin?”, Byungho asked the man in the expensive suit who just entered his restaurant. “I didn’t see you for a while. You must have been busy.”

Kevin took off his glasses. “Huh, you’re right. It’s been a while. Can I have a table for the two of us?”

Byungho nodded and quickly prepared a table to sit down and talk to his old friend. “I’ve seen you all over the news. Your business is really taking off, huh?”, Byungho smiled at Kevin as he poured him some soju.

“Yeah. The restaurant’s looking nice too. But it’s still a little small, don’t you think?”, Kevin said as he accepted the glass of soju. “You could have more. So much more.”

Byungho shook his head. “For the time being I am happy like this. I will hopefully expand more in the future.”

“How about now?”

Byungho sat up straight. “Is this a business proposal? Are you going to sponsor me?”

“Something like that. But think bigger. Not only 2 or 3 three restaurants. Think about franchises in the whole world! Korean food for the world.”, Kevin said with hand gestures that emphasized “think bigger”.

“You know I can’t afford that, Kevin. Are you insane?”, Byungho said, confused.

“I will not sponsor you. But I am doing something big right now and I want my best friend to be involved too. This is going to make both of us filthy rich.”, Kevin said and took a piece of meat in his mouth.

“Aren’t you already pretty well-off?”

“I am. But this will make everything better and bigger.”, Kevin leaned closer to his friend and started whispering, “This isn’t exactly legal. You see, I know a few guys who work very well with drugs. Heroine, ecstasy, molly. Anything you can think of. The money I get from that I will invest in more real estate.”

Byungho’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up in anger. “What the hell are you saying?! Since when do you deal with that shit?”

“Sit down! It’s been a short while but I want to share my method of earning money with you.”, Kevin said calmy as if this was a normal conversation.

“Kevin, you know this is highly illegal. I don’t want to be dragged into this. Leave me alone, I have a family. What if you get caught? I can’t go to jail and not see my wife and my daughter.”, Byungho said angrily.

Now it was Kevin’s turn to get angry. “Oh, really?! It was very selfish of me to think that you’d want to earn money! I thought we were friends.”

“Friends don’t do that to each other. Supporting each other doesn’t mean doing illegal things together! You have a child too, don’t you think about him? About what will happen if you get caught?”

“He has nannies who can take care of him. And I will not get caught.”

“This is stupid, Kevin! Leave me alone with this or I will report you to the police. I can’t believe that money and fame changed you this much. I can’t even recognize you.”, Byungho said, dead serious.

“I guess you aren’t the guy I used to be friends anymore. How can you threaten me right now? You will regret this, Byungho.”, Kevin spat and he got up. “I hope this restaurant goes to hell with you.”

Chan’s eyes widened in shock. “Drugs? My dad deals with drugs?”

Byungho shrugged. “I don’t know if he still does that but he wanted me to deal those drugs with him. I just couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to.”, he said, still thinking about the past. “I lost my friend then. I tried to find a solution but in this case the solution was to let him go. But he didn’t let go of me yet.”

June 2004

It was a normal workday at the restaurant. Byungho didn’t hear anything from Kevin after that day but he still had an uneasy feeling. He knew what Kevin was capable of so he was trying to be cautious.

On that day, the police came to his restaurant out of nowhere. Some of the policemen and women were regulars at his restaurant, so Byungho thought they came to eat. “Hello. Do you want to stay or take out?”

The policeman looked at him with a serious expression. “Mr. Y/L/N, we aren’t here to eat this time. We got a tip that you are hiding something in your restaurant.”

You were sitting at one of the booths, as you were a little child you didn’t understand a lot. You were drawing some pictures for your father as the police arrived.

Byungho was confused. “Hiding? What are you talking about?”

The policewoman looked at your father with a sad expression on her face because she knew your family well. “It’s serious, Mr. Byungho. We got a tip from an anonymous source. They said that you were hiding drugs.”

“This is ridiculous. Of course, I don’t have such a thing. Please, have a look at the restaurant, I can assure that this is a misunderstanding.”, Byungho said and assured them that everything was fine.

But it was not.

On that painful day, the police found drugs hidden in some cabinets of the kitchen and in the freezer. It was a big amount and nobody knew where the drugs came from. You clearly remember the day they took your father away, with big teardrops falling from your eyes.

“Mommy, where are they taking daddy?”, you asked while crying.

“Somewhere safe. Nothing will happen to him darling.”, your mother said, panicking on the inside as she watched her husband in handcuffs walk past her. Your mother was holding your closely, trying not to cry but miserably failing at doing so.

Your father was convicted of drug possession and was sentenced to 2 years in prison. The restaurant was closed shortly after that because no one wanted to go to a prisoner’s restaurant.

Chan couldn’t believe his ears. “…If I am connecting this right, the drugs didn’t belong to you?”

Byungho looked sadly at his surroundings. “No. I hired a new employee a few weeks before all that happened. Turns out he used to work for your father and that he was the one who hid the drugs and was hired by your father to do so.”

Chan started shaking again but this time it wasn’t because of you. “How do you know that?”

“I was released six months earlier for good behavior and because they found evidence that I wasn’t behind it. The employee got arrested but not your father. Nothing was linked to him but I know it was him. Because on the day of my release, I saw him. He was eyeing the whole situation.”

Chan was in shock. After all the thing his father did to him, your father still talked to him as if he was not the son of the man who destroyed his life. “Didn’t you get your restaurant back?”

Byungho shook his head. “No. It was hard for me to find a job, especially if you have a criminal record. I guess you could say that my best friend betrayed me the worst way possible. So, please. Talk to your friend. It cannot be worse than my situation.”

Chan wiped his eyes quickly. “I’m sorry. On behalf of my father. No one deserves that.”

“I don’t want your apology son. I want your father to be rational and to find his sanity. What he did to me is unforgivable. But son, you aren’t your father. Do something with your life.”

“How can you be so… civil with me? I am-“

Your father interrupted him. “You aren’t your father. I will not repeat myself.”

Chan understood now. Of course, you would hate his father. His father was the reason why your family lost everything. You just wanted justice. You wanted the world to be aware of what kind of person his father was. After all, Chan apparently didn’t know his father at all.

“Thank you, sir.”, Chan thanked the man. “You helped me a lot. I know what to do now.”

“Come back here if you need to talk to an old man. You know where to find me.”

“I will.”, Chan smiled gratefully at Byungho. “Thank you!”

♥.

As Jisung came home, he saw you crying. He immediately started hugging you and comforting you. You told him everything from the beginning. He listened to everything, then made you some tea to calm down.

“Do you like him?”, Jisung asked after taking a sip from your tea.

“No. It’s not like that.” At least that was what you thought. “I betrayed him. I don’t know.”

“It’s not about the article anymore.”, Jisung concluded on his own.

“I guess it is. You know what happened to my family, Ji. This feels like an opportunity to get justice for my family but at the same time I hurt someone who wasn’t involved at all.”, you said as you sipped on your tea.

“Y/N, you know what’s wrong and what’s right. You should sleep and get your mind off this whole situation for a bit.”, Jisung said and put an arm around you. “You don’t know what you’re doing, right now.”

“I know… Thank you for listening to me. You are the best roommate ever.”

Jisung chuckled. “I know.”

The next morning you woke up with a headache. As if you have drunken a whole bottle of vodka on your own. You then sloppily got ready for work, not really in the mood to go. And you had to take the bus because obviously Chan wouldn’t pick you up.

As you went outside, you saw a familiar car standing in front of your house. Your heartbeat quickened as you spotted the driver. Maybe, he was here on accident. As you approached the car hesitantly, you noticed Chan glancing at you. He then made a head gesture to tell you to get in.

You didn’t know what to do at first but you still got in the car. Chan started driving without saying a word. You were confused because you didn’t know why he was here.

Chan cleared his throat. “I still have to drive you to work. Since, you don’t have a car.”

You then turned to him, even more baffled than before. “What are you doing, Chan? Why are you here?”

Chan sighed. “I am here to make things right. I didn’t hear you out yesterday.”

“You… want me to explain?”, you said in shock.

“Yes, please.”, Chan insisted in a calm voice.

Your hands were fidgeting and you looked at the quiet boy. “Okay. I was the girl from the masquerade ball, that is true. I mean… you figured that out already.”

Chan stopped the car at a quiet place and fully turned to you. You took a shaky breath. “I also admit that I was behind the plan. I guess I have a personal vendetta against your father.”

Chan then stopped you and looked down. “I met your father yesterday. It wasn’t on purpose. He told me what my father did in the past.”

“So, you know. You know why I hate your father and what he did to us.”, you concluded. You tried to look in his eyes but Chan was looking away in shame. “My father lost his restaurant, his passion. He loved to cook for everyone and he was a walking sunshine. After his jail time, nobody wanted to talk to us. Nobody wanted to hire him. He had to do shitty jobs to make sure that we had something to eat and a warm place to stay. And it was your father’s fault. So, it’s true that I researched all that to show the world his true face. Because I know he has the media in his control.”

Chan took a deep breath and finally looked at you. “Is that the reason why you started spending time with me? Was all of this a set-up?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t plan on seeing you at all. When you crashed into my car, I took the chance. You have every right to be mad at me. Because I did continue seeing you because I wanted more information on your father. But I didn’t get any. At first, I didn’t like you because I thought you would be just like him.”, you said but then reached over to his hand to hold it. “But you are the sweetest person I have ever met. You are nothing like your father.”

Chan squeezed your hand. “I understand your anger. I really do. After talking to your father, I realized that I never really knew my dad at all. I would do the same if I were you. I would want justice.”, Chan said and gave you a concerned look. “If you want clarity, I can help you. This is the least I can do.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked him, confused.

“I want to know if there were more incidents like these. Especially if there were more illegal things involved. If I want to take over his company, I need to know if there is more dirty money involved. I want a clean company and I want justice for people who were hurt by my father.”

Your eyes widened. “You want to help me?”

You were shocked. What did this mean? Did Chan decide to turn his back on his father?

“Yes. I don’t want to get the media involved. At least for now. But I want to solve this. With you, Y/N. Because I know you have a lot of information about my father already and with my help, we can maybe find a way into his office and find more evidence.” Chan looked at you with determination in his eyes.

Right at that moment, you wanted to bring up the article and your job. But you couldn’t. Chan wanted justice for everyone his father hurt including your family. He wanted to do the right thing. If you brought up that you were journalist who wanted to publicly destroy his family, he would probably never talk to you again. Right now, however, you didn’t care about your job or the article. You found someone who was willing to help you and who cared about you.

You were questioning if you should even write that article. Minho would probably still let you write it because he knew how interested you were at writing the frontpage article. But for now, with the help of Chan, you could finally find out the truth behind Kevin Bang and his illegal businesses.

“You aren’t mad at me anymore?”, you said with a worried look on your face.

Chan sighed. “I was mad that you lied to me. But I understand why you did what you did. You were in a tough position and I honestly acted like huge dick yesterday.”

“No. I should have told you. So… everything is fine?”, you asked him for assurance.

Chan nodded. “Yes, Y/N. I am not mad at you, I am mad at my father. That is why I want to work with you on this. So, are we doing this? Like detective partners?”, Chan asked, once again squeezing your hand as if he was saying that everything is going to be alright.

“Like detective partners. Let’s do this.”, you nodded at him with a smile on your face.

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thecasperanfamily · 3 years

Note

Ficlet with Archie getting into a fight with the neighbour's dog to protect Bebe Lin?

The gratingly cheerful ringing of the doorbell slammed into Douxie’s ears and bounced around in his skull like a hyperactive gnome. He snorted as his head jerked up off of his pillow, crusty eyes blinking owlishly against the morning light. He pawed at his nightstand for his phone. 9:14 am. He groaned as he dropped the device back onto the nightstand.

“No civilized human being should be going around banging down doors at this ungodly hour...” he grumbled, pulling himself out of bed and heading for the front door with all the grace and energy of a zombie emerging from its tomb. He quickly changed his mind on the matter when he discovered that the person banging down his door was Claire Nuñez, and that she was holding a casserole dish.

“Hi, Teach!” she beamed. “Sorry, it’s a little early. Jim and I were going to have brunch in the park, and since your place is kind of on my way, I thought I’d drop off these enchiladas. Mama and I made them for you. Figured you probably don’t have much time to cook with a baby around.” It was at this point that she finally noticed his disheveled appearance. “...Did I wake you up?”

“No, no, I’ve been up for hours!” Douxie lied. “Come on in.” He stepped aside to let her in, and took the dish from her. The brightly-patterned kitchen towel wrapped around it did very little to conceal the heavenly smell of its contents. “...You’re an angel, Ms. Nuñez,” he sighed. “And your mum, too. I’ve just recently discovered a man can only subsist on frozen lasagna alone for so long before he starts losing his sense of taste.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long,” Claire replied, settling down on the sofa while Douxie took the enchiladas to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything?” he called. “I was just going to brew myself a cuppa.”

“Tea would be great, thank you. I won’t stay too long. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Probably wise,” Douxie admitted. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence as the wizard bustled about, bringing the water to a boil and setting up the tea tray. He brought it out to the living room and, after shoving a plush toy off of the coffee table with his foot, set the tray down with a flourish. He then immediately collapsed into the nearest armchair, thoroughly exhausted.

“It’s been a week now,” Claire began, politely ignoring the way Douxie was gulping his tea like his life depended on it. “How’s everything going with Samuel?”

“So far so good,” he answered, emerging from his cup with a sigh of relief. “We’ve taken to calling him Little Merlin--Zoe made us shorten it to Lin. He was uneasy the first few days, but he seems happy now.”

“What about his powers?”

“Highly unusual, to be sure,” Douxie mused, staring into his teacup thoughtfully. “But nothing dangerous so far. I can understand why his fosters were scared, though. It’s unsettling even for me. I’ve never heard of magic surfacing at such a young age, and when he’s upset, it’s like the whole room goes cold all of a sudden.”

“Where is he now?”

Douxie choked on his tea and bolted out of his chair. “Oh gods I don’t even know--!”

“He is with Archie in my garden,” a soft voice interrupted. Nari had evidently crept inside while they were conversing, and was now helping herself to one of the biscuits on the tray. She gave Claire a polite nod while Douxie fell back into his chair with a groan. “He awoke quite early this morning. Archie and I thought it would be best if we looked after him, since you were up so late last night.”

“Archie knows how to babysit?” Claire put in.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Douxie answered. “I mean, he did practically raise me, but I wasn’t expecting him to take to a baby this much. I can hardly tear him away from Lin’s side.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet, though!” Claire gushed. “I mean, I never would have guessed--” She stopped short, distracted by a movement outside the front window. Douxie looked up from the biscuit he was dunking and followed her line of sight. A cloud of golden-brown fluff was shuffling around the front yard, nose to the ground and tail swishing happily from side to side.

“Oh, that’s Cooper, the neighbor’s dog. He keeps getting out of his yard, but nobody really minds because he’s the sweetest thing on four legs. No offense to Archie.”

“He has a gentle soul,” Nari agreed, brushing biscuit crumbs off of her shirt. “I have spoken to him a few times. He reminds me quite a bit of Douxie. They have similar values.” She smiled coyly at the sound of Douxie’s indignant sputter.

“Yeah, I can see the resemblance,” Claire snickered. Cooper went out of sight around the side of the house, and the conversation resumed. “Do you have any potential guardians for Lin in mind, or are you still looking?”

“I have one or two old wizarding friends I can try,” Douxie said. “But getting their current contact information is a bit of a hassle. And anyways, right now I think the most important thing is figuring out exactly what Lin is and why his magic is manifesting like this. I was thinking about calling Blinky, ask him if he’s read anything about--” The discussion was once again stopped short, this time by ruckus coming from the back yard--a cacophony of plaintive yelps and draconic snarls. Douxie, Nari, and Claire all bolted out of their seats and raced for the back door. Douxie wrenched it open and dove outside, magic already gathering in his palms, only to find Lin sitting perfectly safe in a patch of clover, looking very confused but otherwise unharmed.

Archie, on the other hand, was about as far from calm as Douxie had ever seen him. His back was arched, spines standing up straight and sharp, the fur on his tail puffed out like a bottlebrush. He was glaring daggers at Cooper, who was curled against the back of the house, quivering and whimpering and rubbing at his snout with one of his paws.

“Archie, what the hell?!” Douxie burst out, trying to scoop his Familiar up before he caused any more damage.

“Unhand me at once!” the cat-dragon yowled. “If it wasn’t for me, your human kitten would have been swallowed by this brute!”

“He's a golden retriever, Arch! The only things he wants to swallow are dog treats and tennis balls!” Douxie shouted, struggling to hold the writhing mass of black fur and scales in his arms. Lin, obviously upset by the commotion, started to cry. Claire inhaled sharply. Douxie hadn't been exaggerating. She could feel the weight of Lin’s unease pressing down on her. Nari slipped around Douxie and approached Cooper, taking his face between her hands and whispering words of healing and reassurance. Archie finally stopped flailing and settled for simply glaring at the dog while hanging upside-down in Douxie’s grasp. Lin, becoming more upset the longer he was ignored, wailed all the louder.

“Claire, could you--?” Douxie grunted, unwilling to risk setting Archie down.

“Yeah, I got him.” The young witch scooped Lin up in her arms and bounced him gently. He settled down almost at once, staring up at Claire with large, curious eyes. “Hi there, Lin,” she cooed. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“As far as first meetings go, I feel like that could’ve been a bit smoother,” Douxie grumbled. Archie kicked him in the chin with his back paw.

“Cooper did not suffer any grave injuries, but he does wish to go home now,” Nari reported.

“Good. And don’t come back,” Archie snarled.

“Your instincts are admirable, Archie, but they are misplaced,” Nari replied as she coaxed Cooper away from the wall and ushered him on his way. He eyed Archie for a moment, then bolted away, tail tucked between his legs.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” the Familiar spat. “You can’t trust dogs.”

“Arch, we haven’t been chased by any dogs since the 1910s,” Douxie groaned. “You need to lighten up.”

“...Fine. Now put me down.” Douxie dropped him unceremoniously, and he landed on the grass with a draconic snort. He shifted back into his feline form and curled around Claire’s legs, beaming up at the baby in her arms proudly. A very long and awkward silence followed.

“Uh...” Claire glanced nervously between Archie, Lin, and Douxie, before finally landing on Nari, who gave her an encouraging nod. “...A-anybody want some enchiladas?”

Thanks so much for reading! ✨

#tales of arcadia #toa #the casperan family #douxie #toa archie #toa nari #claire nunez #lin casperan #niki answers #fic #archie is a mama bear #and douxie is a disaster

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Top of the Tree

Bastien meets Sophia’s parents for the first time as they visit for Christmas

Word Count 3592

A/N All the ‘holiday’ (for Brits, read ‘Christmas’) stories got me wondering what Sophia and Bastiens’ first celebration would be like. Please note I have modelled Sophia’s parents on mine as a tribute to them. There are a few truths hidden in the story - see if you can spot them, or I’d be happy to tell when asked.

Warnings - brief mention of problems with fertility. Otherwise, all fluff xx

Bastien waited with Sophia in the tiny terminal of Cordonia’s airport. Her eyes shone and she fidgeted nervously. Her parents were arriving soon to spend the Christmas holidays with them and meet Bastien for the first time. He was restless, pulling at his tie, wishing he had a mirror to check that he was neatly presented. In order to make a good impression he had left his cane in the car, as he was able to do for short periods of time, though he knew he might regret it later.

‘They’ll be landing soon’ she exclaimed ‘It will be so good to see them – it’s been a long time’

‘I’m looking forward to meeting them’ Bastien smiled, though he felt a slight pang of nervousness.

‘They want to meet you too’ she replied ‘Having them here for Christmas will be lovely.’

‘Are you absolutely sure they’re okay with me being so much older?’ Bastien asked for the tenth time. He wasn’t really much for family gatherings, only having foster parents, and it was important to him that Sophia’s parents like him. She hugged his arm and leaned into him

‘It’s fine Bas, ten years isn’t that big a difference, and they know my tastes. My first proper boyfriend was six years older and Dad nearly had a fit, but he’s cool now. Don’t worry, Bas - Mum will just eat you up and Dad will want to hear all about your job. Staying at the Palace is a huge deal for Mum – she’s always following news of the British Royal Family. She’ll probably not know what to do with herself, but she’ll settle down’

The airport tannoy announced the arrival of the flight, and soon the passengers started to file through. Sophia grinned excitedly

‘Oh there they are!’ she bounced on the balls of her feet and waved as a middle aged couple – the man tall and dark haired, the woman a full head and a half shorter and also raven haired, detached themselves from the line and made their way toward them. As a child, she had amazed admirers – she was a cute toddler but a fair haired girl with dark haired parents drew many an odd stare, but it was natural and in later years she delighted in telling folk that it was quite possible, as both parents must hold a recessive gene for blonde hair. She was a cherished only child, her mother having had trouble conceiving, and in the back of her mind she had wondered whether it would be possible for her to have children at all. Her biological clock had not troubled her at all, and of course, Bastien had a vasectomy so unless he specifically had it reversed, fertility wasn’t a pressing issue.

She couldn’t contain herself any longer and rushed forward to throw her arms wide and hug her mother. Her father, a stern faced man who looked younger than his years, as did her mother to a greater degree, smiled warmly at the reunion and turned his gaze to Bastien as he made his way toward the family group. He felt his stomach lurch with apprehension – this was a unique situation as he’d never had a partner long enough for it to be considered important to meet relatives. He smiled nervously as Sophia let go of her mother and turned to her father to hug him warmly too.

‘Dad, I hope you had enough leg room, are you okay?’ she asked. Bastien was now under the full scrutiny of Edith, who looked him up and down appraisingly before speaking,

‘Is this your man, darling?’ she asked cautiously and Sophia turned back to him, taking his arm and pulling him closer, smiling happily

‘Mum, Dad, this is Bastien’ she replied ‘Bas, meet my parents’ He plastered a smile on his face and extended his hand to her father, who reached out and grasped it firmly, patting his elbow with the other.

‘A pleasure to meet you, Bastien’ he intoned gravely

‘Mr Turner – Mrs Turner’ he replied

‘Please, call me Bob – and this is Edith’ her father replied. Bastien badly wanted to loosen his collar and he felt himself sweating slightly. This had to be the second most terrifying moment of his life, worse than diving to shield Liam from the assassin’s bullet, only slightly less terrifying than the moment he realised Sophia had been kidnapped. His heart hammered in his chest and his hands felt clammy. It was ridiculous that over his working life he had faced many a danger with cool aplomb, but this was seriously threatening his usually calm demeanour.

‘Of course Bob - Edith’ he answered. Edith was eyeing him up – literally, as he was two heads taller than her, and he swallowed hard.

‘My goodness, you’re tall’ she remarked ‘what’s the weather like up there?’

‘Mum – for goodness sake’ Sophia sighed ‘That has to be the oldest joke in the book.’ Bastien realised he was staring at the older woman, holding his breath. The others looked at him and he snapped out of it, smiling faintly

‘Joke – ah it was a joke – oh actually I’ve not heard that for a long time’ he blurted, affecting a laugh.

‘Probably not since your school days’ Bob remarked ‘Don’t worry son, everyone’s tall to her – she’s such a shortarse’ He patted her shoulder and Bastien blinked at the apparent abusive term, but Edith only rolled her eyes and sighed.

‘Oh Turner’ she said exasperatedly, and looked back to Bastien ‘Well for goodness sake, what does a woman have to do to get a hug?’ she cried, and threw her arms around Bastien. He hugged her back, bending over so that he didn’t pick her off the floor. She drew back and looked at him again.

‘He’s very handsome, dear, you chose wisely’ she said to Sophia, and at last she turned her attention back to her daughter. ‘So, when are we going to the Palace?’ she asked ‘Do we get to meet the King? How well does he know Queen Elizabeth?’ She dropped a curtsy at the name - Sophia laughed and Bastien breathed a sigh of relief that the spotlight was no longer on him.

‘Patience Mum, all in good time. Come on, let’s go to the car’ Bastien took the handle of Edith’s suitcase and lead the way outside to the SUV. Sophia had said that using a limo would be over the top – her mother was so excited about the Palace that it would just be too much for her.

‘Mind if I ride shotgun, son?’ Bob asked ‘The girls can catch up in the back’ Bastien swallowed and forced a smile. It was unnerving that the older man called him ‘son’ just as his former Captain, Jackson Walker had, and he had to make an effort to remind himself that he wasn’t his superior – at least, not in a formal way.

‘Of course, Mr Turner’ The older man frowned slightly

‘Bob please, no need to be so formal, son’ Bastien closed the back after loading the bags. Sophia was already in the back seat making Edith comfortable.

‘I’m sorry Sir – I mean Bob, force of habit with my job’ Bastien replied sheepishly

‘I can understand that, Lykel – or would you prefer your first name?’

‘That’s really up to you, Bob’ he said, forming his lips around the unfamiliar name. ‘Whatever you’re comfortable with.’ He went to open the passenger door and Bob got in with an odd look on his face – scepticism and wariness, Bastien decided. He got in and made sure everyone was belted in before checking the mirrors, indicating and pulling off smoothly. When they had left the airport and were cruising along the main road toward the Palace, Bob patted the dashboard in front of him. He had the impression the older man was watching the way he drove and for the moment he appeared to be comfortable with his proficiency. He felt more at ease driving as it gave him something else to focus on.

‘I’ve never driven one of these beasts’ Bob said ‘What kind of mileage does it do? It can’t be very economical – is it yours?’ Bastien blinked at the barrage of questions.

‘Economy isn’t the most important issue in my line of work’ he explained ‘This is one of the fleet assigned to the Royal Guard. It’s useful because it’s tough and versatile, used for all sorts of jobs including escort duty for the Royal Limousines. Those are specially built, bullet proof and with reinforced chassis to withstand bombs. Most of these vehicles are modified too’ Bob stuck out his bottom lip and nodded sagely.

‘My brother ran a limo business in London’ he said ‘He told me he acquired a car that was used to drive the Prime Minister around – he said it had reinforced steel plating in the chassis like you said.’ He looked off into the distance as they drove ‘I was never sure if he was telling the truth though, he was a bit of a dark horse’ Bastien looked sideways at him, and Bob turned to him again. ‘A vehicle like this isn’t that practical on the island where we live, but some folk have them anyway’ Bastien smiled, making a note to ask Sophia about her Uncle later.

‘I have a Goldwing bike’ he said ‘and King Liam bought me a car in gratitude for my service to the Crown, but I don’t get to drive it much’ Bob looked interested

‘Oh yes – what is it?’

‘Ford Mustang’ Bob’s eyes lit up

‘That’s impressive’ he said ‘Classic or new?’

‘New’ Bastien said ‘I’m sure we can go out for a spin if the weather’s kind to us’

‘Now that I’d enjoy more than staying in a fancy Palace’ he grinned ‘don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful and I know it’s where you live, but I like things plain and simple’ Bastien coughed, embarrassed.

‘I’d really like to move out when the job allows – I’ve brought it up with the King but for now it’s useful for me to be on site. I’ve lived there a long time so it’s a big decision. I can look after myself, but it’s convenient at the Palace – as staff I don’t have to cook or do laundry, and I could have our – uh my… suite cleaned if I wanted’ Despite Sophia being in her late twenties and himself ten years older, he felt self conscious talking about their living arrangements to her father, them not being married – or even engaged.

‘It’s okay son, I know you live together. My girl’s a grown woman and I trust her decisions’ Bob chuckled ‘You don’t have to pussy foot around the issue’

‘Thankyou Sir – I mean Bob…Our suite in the staff wing is quite modern, you won’t be staying in the State rooms, which are quite impressive and ornate. The King was kind enough to extend our living quarters recently, so we have a guest room all set up for you’ They had reached the outskirts of the capital now, and Bastien had to concentrate to negotiate the turns and roundabouts that lead through the middle of the town before they went to the Palace. Bob looked out of the window as the two women continued to chat in the back.

‘I thought you might like to drive through town’ Bastien explained ‘It’s very picturesque, and some time while you’re here we can come in late on to take a look at the Christmas lights’

‘I know Edith would love that’ he replied ‘Though you might have a hard time getting her away from the Palace. She’s hoping for a tour of the entire property if it’s allowed’

‘I’m sure king Liam would be delighted’ he replied ‘He’d most likely conduct it himself’ Edith spoke up from the back, obviously picking up on their conversation after a pause in her own dialogue with her daughter.

‘Did you hear that Sophia?’ she trilled ‘The King himself showing me around – what an honour!’

‘He’s very informal, Mum’ Sophia said ‘I’m sure he’d love to meet you both’

‘Oh well, if he’s not busy – you know, opening Christmas fairs and kissing babies’ Sophia laughed and Bastien couldn’t help but smile.

‘I don’t think the King’s schedule is particularly busy’ he replied. He slowed down ‘We’re almost there Edith, take a look out of your side of the car’ The railings that defined the boundaries of the Palace came into view, and Edith looked out, gasping in admiration at the parkland beyond.

‘How on earth do they keep the grass so tidy?’ she pondered aloud, and in the rear view mirror Bastien saw Sophia’s lips tighten a little.

‘There’s a whole team of gardeners who look after the grounds, Mum’ she said

‘That will be expensive’ Edith remarked ‘Has he thought of having a flock of sheep to graze it?’ He heard Sophia make a soft sound of exasperation, but thankfully Edith fell silent after that. It was a little while before they came to the gates and stopped at the security booth. Parker was on duty and looked in to check that Bastien was at the wheel. A second guard went around the back of the vehicle to open up and check the luggage.

‘Welcome back Sir. I take it this is Mr and Mrs Turner?’ Parker asked with a smile

‘Don’t take it for granted, Parker’ he replied sternly ‘I may be Captain, but you need to double check’

‘Of course Sir, I was about to ask for their ID’ Parker replied, colouring a little ‘If you think it’s necessary’

‘Of course I do, just putting you through your paces’ Edith looked flustered, but Bob reached into his jacket pocket and calmly handed over his and his wife’s passports for the guard to look at. He examined them carefully and handed them back.

‘All seems to be in order, you can go on in’

‘Better safe than sorry, son – you have an important job’ Bob remarked to the guard, and turned back to Bastien ‘I appreciate you not treating us any different from any other first time visitors, Lykel’ he said approvingly ‘I’ve had to deal with Royalty in my time, though not in such a major role as you’ The gates opened, and Bastien eased the car forward along the long sweeping drive toward the Palace.

‘Is that so, Bob?’ he asked, intrigued. Sophia hadn’t talked much about her parents though he knew they were close. It was probably a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’

‘That’s right, the Force has had to organise a few Royal visits over the years’ he replied ‘Edith and myself were invited aboard the Royal Yacht Britannia once – sadly the sea was too rough for the tenders to go out on the day, but it was an honour to be included’

‘Oh yes’ Edith piped up from the back ‘Bob was part of the security detail for the Prince of Wales once – we have a signed photograph of his Highness’ He saw her bob her head a little as she mentioned the British Prince.

‘That’s impressive’ Bastien agreed. He slowed down to give them a good view of the façade of the Palace before continuing around to the side, making for the service entrance and the garages. ‘We can go and take a tour through the main entrance tomorrow, Edith’ he said ‘You must be tired after your journey – we’ll have a little something to eat and you can settle in. We won’t have far to go to our suite from this entrance’ He brought the vehicle to a stop and went round to open the door for Edith. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Drake coming out to the car as Sophia’s mother got out.

‘Sophia!’ Drake called ‘welcome back – are these your parents?’ Edith looked at him, wide eyed and hissed at Sophia

Is this him – do I curtsy?

‘No Mum, this is my friend Drake Walker’ she said ‘I’m sure I’ve told you about him’

‘Oh’ Edith said, deflating slightly ‘Pleased to meet you, Drake’ He leaned in and embraced her briefly before turning to Bob, extending his hand

‘Mr Turner’ he said ‘I hope you enjoy your stay’

‘Thankyou son, it’s a privilege to stay here’ he narrowed his eyes at him ‘You’re not some sort of fancy Duke or Lord are you?’ Drake laughed

‘Lord no, I’m just plain old Drake Walker, just a mister’ he said

‘Drake’s father was head of the Guard before me’ Bastien explained ‘He died in service’ Bob turned back to the younger man

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Walker. Were you tempted to join the guard yourself?’

‘Uh – no Sir’ he said regretfully ‘But Bastien stepped in and helped me and my sister when we lost Dad. I train with him and the Guard, though I’ve never applied to join’ Bob slapped him on the back after an approving look in Bastien’s direction.

‘That’s okay son, it’s a hard thing to do. I’m sure your talents lie elsewhere’ Drake flushed scarlet

‘Um yes, heh – my talents lie elsewhere Sir’ he mumbled ‘Can I take your bags?’ Sophia hid a sly smirk and he winked at her. Edith narrowed her eyes at him, which made him twitch nervously as he reached over to open the back of the SUV for the luggage. He went ahead, and the others followed, Edith keeping up a monologue on everything she saw, admiring or deprecating it as she went. Bob rolled his eyes at Sophia, and Bastien picked up his cane to follow. He had reached his limit after going without it at the airport and he felt a dull ache in his thigh. Bob caught sight of it and raised his eyebrows.

‘Sophia told us you were hurt in an assassination attempt’ he observed as they went inside. Bastien nodded

‘Yes Sir – Bob, my leg troubles me but it’s improving. Sophia takes good care of me’ Bob smiled warmly.

‘From what she tells me it’s a mutual arrangement’ he said ‘I’m glad she’s found someone so protective’ Bastien nodded in answer and had to take up the rear of the group as they ascended the stairs, so it was Sophia who opened the door to let everyone in. Drake deposited the suitcases by the door and left.

Edith swept into the lounge, taking it all in. The table under the window, formerly Bastien’s dining table when it was just his living space, now sported a decorated Christmas tree and there were tasteful tinsel decorations all around the walls, a few Christmas cards displayed on the bookcase and hanging in strings on the wall. The two extra rooms that the remodelling of the suite had given them had been repurposed and the adjoining suite’s bathroom had been split into en suites for their rooms and for Theresa’s on the other side. Bastien’s treadmill and static bike had been put into storage from his makeshift gym in order to make a dining room for the four of them and any other guests they might have. The other room was already a bedroom, but a few pieces of furniture had been added to make things more comfortable for the guests. The lounge still sported a small kitchen area, and Sophia and Bastien’s bedroom and bathroom were accessed from the corridor within the suite, as was his study.

‘It’s a lovely room’ Edith declared ‘and you decorated for Christmas, how wonderful – oh that reminds me’ she rummaged in her bag just as Bastien arrived. Edith pulled a little package wrapped in fabric and ribbon, and handed it to Sophia. Eagerly she took it and opened it carefully. Bastien looked on as she stared at the worn and faded ornament that lay in her hand, her eyes welling up with tears.

‘Oh Mum’ she cried, and threw her arms around her. Bastien cast his eyes toward Bob, who leaned toward him and spoke quietly.

‘It’s the fairy that always goes on top of the tree’ he explained ‘Sophia chose it when she was five. It’s not in the best condition – but Christmas isn’t Christmas without it’ Sophia turned to her father

‘Dad’ she said, her voice catching a little ‘You should put it on top of the tree – just like the first time’ Bob smiled fondly

‘I’m not the man of this house’ he replied and turned to Bastien ‘You do it, son. I’ve only just met you, but Sophia’s obviously made her choice – you should take over the tradition’ Bastien rocked back on his heels and looked to his lover questioningly. She nodded, tears still glistening in her eyes.

‘Please, Bas’ she said quietly ‘Will you?’ He stepped forward and stood in front of her as she held the delicate scrap of wood and fabric and wire out to him. She looked up and he took it from her gently, cradling it gently in his hands and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. He was aware of Edith looking on with a smile, and Bob moved across the room to put his arm around his wife and squeeze her firmly. He felt a warmth that he had never felt before – of acceptance and affection and love radiating from Sophia and her parents. He swallowed and at last found his voice.

‘I’d be honoured’ he said softly. ‘Thankyou for asking me’

#bastien lykel #trr bastien #sophia x bastien #OC x Bastien #pure fluff #trr au fanfic

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javis-beretta · 6 years

Text

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (3)

and here’s part three! sorry, this part doesn’t have too much plot stuff, but that’s only bc the next one is gonna be pretty exciting. thank you to everyone who’s been giving this story love, you’re all angels. enjoy! <3 (also i’m still figuring out some of the plot of this, so message me w your theories on who sent the letters or send me memes u think race would tag you in!)

part 1 / part 2 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8

The next day, you stayed at school a little late, figuring you could catch Race after track practice to discuss your… arrangement. It also had the added benefit of allowing you to avoid Jack, who you knew was spending most afternoons at the community theatre across town, helping them paint backdrops for an upcoming show.

(You weren’t stalking him, or memorising his schedule, or anything. You were just observant. You took note of behaviour. That was it.)

Race was on his last lap around the track when he saw you sitting on the bleachers. You gave him a little wave and his face lit up with a smile. He winked and kept on running. When he was done, and presumably back in the locker room, your phone pinged with four rapid texts from an unknown number.

hey babe I’m just showering and then I’ll come see you ;)

this is race btw

i’m really good at texting like a boyfriend

fake or otherwise

Even though he couldn’t see you, you rolled your eyes anyway.

Yeah, okay hotshot

Come find me on the bleachers when you’re ready

When Race showed up, with a red face and wet, curly hair he gave you a cheeky grin, looked around to see some of the track team boys were still milling around, and he placed a quick peck on your cheek. You didn’t let yourself blush, remembering that it was all for show, and you pulled up a Word document on your laptop.

“Okay, so, this is going to be our contract,” you said, preparing yourself for his teasing.

“We have a contract? This isn’t Suits, man. It’s a fake relationship. We don’t need a contract!”

“Uh, we so do need a contract, Higgins! We need to draw boundaries and limits and we need to stick to them.”

He rolled his eyes and moved a little nearer to you on the bench, so that he could see your laptop screen.

“Wow, nothing like a list of comprehensive rules and guidelines to really bring the romance, huh?”

“Fake-romance,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, what’s first on the contract?”

“Okay, first up, no kissing.”

He spluttered comically for a bit.

“No kissing? How are we supposed to convince anyone that we’re dating if we can’t kiss?”

“Look, plenty of couples avoid PDA. We can still, like, link pinkies or whatever.”

“Link pinkies? Wha-? Are you living in the 80s? This isn’t Grease, babe.”

“Look, Race, physical stuff may not mean anything to you, but it’s important to me, okay?”

“Whoever said physical stuff didn’t matter to me?”, he muttered under his breath. But, after a moment he sighed. “Fiine, put it on the contract.

You typed it up and looked expectantly at him.

“Okay, you get no kissing, but, number two, you have to hang out with me and my friends at lunch and come to parties with me.”

“Technically, that’s two and three. And, I get parties, but why lunch?”

He stared at the ground.

“Spot always sat with us at lunch, so he’d definitely notice if you were with me and the guys.”

“Fair enough.”

You typed that, and then said, “Also, we cannot tell anyone that this is fake. Gossip spreads like wildfire at this school so nobody can know that this isn’t a real relationship. Not even Albert, or your track team buddies.”

“Obviously. And don’t act like I can’t keep secrets. You can’t tell Davey or Katherine. I had journalism with her last year and I’m pretty sure that she would disapprove of this plan.”

He was right, of course he was.

“Fine, deal. Anything else?”

“Oh! You have to come with me on the ski trip trip in December,” he said triumphantly.

Your high school’s annual ski trip was infamous for being the weekend when most of your school lost their virginity. Some schools had the night after prom, but your school had two days and a night spent in the mountains.

“The ski trip? As in the one just before Christmas break? We’d have to stay together for three months to go on that.”

“Listen, no one in a relationship would ever let their boyfriend go on that trip alone. And, if we’ve gotta keep up until then, then so be it. Spot will definitely be there, so he’ll notice if I’m with someone else. We can break up after the trip, no harm, no foul.”

“Okay, fine. But we will not be sharing a room.”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Anything else you want me to add, oh wise one?” you asked.

“Uh, well, there is this one thing,” he said, sounding a little hesitant. You motioned for him to go on. “Well, Spot always thought it would be cute if I wrote him little letters and put them in his locker or gave them to him, or whatever, and I never did it. Um, if he saw me giving those to you, he’d probably get pretty jealous.”

“Badass Spot Conlon, who would beat up anyone who looked at him wrong wanted love letters? That’s so cute!”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more to him than just being angry and bitchy. I bet he’s got his college boyfriend writing him all sorts of letters now,” Race scoffed.

“He left you for a college guy? That’s rough, Race. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, its whatever,” Race quickly said. “So, that’s the contract, then?”

“Yeah,” you said, satisfied.

“Perfect,” he grinned, and his blue eyes were twinkling again.

“You do know that you missed the bus today, right?” he said, after a moment.

“Uh, yeah, I was just gonna walk home.”

“Holy shit, what is it with you and walking? Do you not have your license?”

“Uh, I do. But driving terrifies me and I’d probably end up killing someone – or myself – if I drove every day. But, yeah, I don’t mind walking.”

“Well, if you’re dating me, there will be no walking. I’ll give you a lift home and a ride to school in the morning, if you want one.”

“Are you serious? You don’t need to do that, Race.”

“Nah, I want to. What kind of fake-boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

He smiled at you and you realised that Race had been right the day before. You could do worse. As far as fake high school boyfriends went, Race was probably one of the best options you had.

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks, Higgins.”

“No biggie. Now, let’s go. The Bachelorette is on tonight and I need to see who Becca chooses.”

Before long, Race had dropped you off at home, with a cheeky wink and promise to text. As soon as you were inside, your phone lit up with a message from him.

see ya bright and early tomorrow morning, girlfriend ;)

You rolled your eyes and typed a quick reply. Then, you went to contacts and your hand hovered over Katherine’s name. You’d have to tell her what had happened with Jack and explain that you were now (somehow) dating Race Higgins.

The phone rang twice, and you could practically hear the smile in her voice when she greeted you, as bright and cheerful as ever. You talked for a little bit about school and she told you about college and you realised that you probably couldn’t put it off for any longer. As soon as you said that you had something to tell her, she sounded more than a little worried.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“This story is going to sound pretty weird but hear me out. You know when I was little, I used to write those letters to myself?”

“Yeah, you said that your mom told you to do it if you ever needed help figuring out your feelings.”

“Yeah, well, not all of the letters were to myself. I wrote some to guys I had crushes on and I swear that I never sent any of them out, but, um, somehow, some of those guys, got their letters?”

“Oh, shit. That sounds stressful. Who’d you write to?”

“That’s the thing that I need to tell you… When you first got with Jack, I thought that I was into him and I wrote him a letter. I was never going to send and I’m pretty sure I didn’t actually have feelings for him, I was just a little torn up because it felt like I was losing my best friend to my sister. But, uh, he got the letter. And, I figured that I should tell you before you heard it from someone else. And, also, uh, Race Higgins and I are dating.” The last sentence slipped out so quickly that you hoped she had missed it.

She was silent for a long time and you were worried that the phone might have died while you were talking and then, you heard a sigh.

“That is… a lot. I’m not going to lie, I am pretty pissed off right now. I don’t care if you were into Jack or not. You wrote a love letter to my boyfriend, while I was dating him. And Race Higgins? Like Spot’s Race Higgins? What the fuck? Look, I’ve got a report due tomorrow, and I really don’t need to be stressed right now, so we can just talk about this some other time.”

She was definitely mad.

“Kath, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She hung up. It was not fine. You felt like crying and crumpling yourself into a ball, when your phone pinged with a notification from Instagram.

@racehiggins tagged you in a post.

It was some stupid meme, and you knew he’d only tagged you in it because people from school would see it, but it brought a smile to your face, anyway.

Race was getting pretty good at making you smile, and you hadn’t even been fake-dating for a week. Maybe, this would all work out well.

TAGLIST: @hungoverhellhound @seriously-ceci @the-butterfly-anon @ben-cook-can-cook @pinecovewoods @brendonuriehimself

#race higgins x reader #newsies x reader #newsies: the musical #newsies fanfiction #katherine plumber x jack kelly

87 notes · View notes

kenbunshokus · 7 years

Text

come on, come on (turn a little faster)

zoro/sanji | 4.5k words

Step One: confession. Step Two: get together. Step Three: act like a couple in public.

Zoro and Sanji are never good with following instructions. Or, the one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride. Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.

(ao3)

this work is commissioned by anonymous; if you’re interested in that, i still have a slot open.

Like most troublesome, headache-inducing things that happen to Sanji, it starts with a bored Luffy.

They’re in the galley, and Luffy is sprawled face-first on the dining table, head swollen from a recent kick from Sanji. Sanji is still riding on high from having thwarted Luffy’s attempt for Snack Before the Snack Before Lunch, so he doesn’t expect Luffy’s innocent, “why do you and Zoro don’t kiss like most couples do?

It’s a blessing for the crew that Sanji is such a professional, because otherwise he would have dropped the rice balls he is making.

He whips his head towards Luffy. “What?”

“Just wondering, is all,” Luffy says to the table, oblivious to Sanji’s shocked confusion. “Ace told me about it before, how couples should kiss and hold hands and stuff.”

Sanji doesn’t even know where to start with that, and his brain is not exactly equipped for this kind of conversation with Luffy—out of all people—so he decides to return to the rice balls on the pantry. Salmon for Usopp, Sea King meat for Zoro…

He sighs. “Zoro and I,” he begins, just as the door opens.

Zoro strides into the galley like he owns the place, arching his eyebrow. “You and I?”

He feels Zoro stand behind him, and soon enough, Zoro’s left hand shoots over Sanji’s shoulder, snatching one of the rice balls. His other hand is on the pantry, right beside Sanji’s hip.

Sanji lets him take the food, feeling generous for once. He’s almost done, anyways. “Go ask Luffy, he’s the one with the stupid questions.”

Zoro turns to face Luffy, but doesn’t step away from Sanji. Their shoulders brush against each other.

Luffy sits up and looks at them with a rare, serious expression. Before either of them can ask if anything’s wrong, though, Luffy picks his nose, goes, “never mind,” and strolls out of the galley.

Zoro watches their captain go as he reaches for another ball of rice. “What’s with him?”

That was one more rice ball than Sanji is feeling generous for, so he swings his leg. Zoro blocks the kick with practiced ease, as expected, but he seems to have gotten the message loud and clear, because he drops the rice back onto the plate. He still doesn’t step away.

“No idea,” Sanji says, and doesn’t step away, either. If Zoro doesn’t back down, neither will he.

Sanji immediately forgets all about it because it’s Luffy and he has long learned that trying to understand how Luffy’s mind works is a futile endeavor, so it throws him completely off guard when a beautiful girl from a flower stand waves at him and says, “We have just the right flowers for your boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Sanji asks, tone surprised but polite, because he wasn’t raised wrong like a certain green-haired oaf he’s currently doing a supply run with.

“Your boyfriend, you know,” the lady winks, and in a terrible, horrifying turn of events, gestures at the very oaf-slash-pack mule standing a few meters away from him. “The swordsman,” she clarifies.

What the fuck makes you think we’re dating, are you fucking blind is Sanji’s initial gut reaction, but—he feels like reiterating—he wasn’t raised wrong like a certain green-haired oaf who thinks it’s okay to argue with women and their eternally wise insights, so instead he says, “No, thank you, miss.”

He walks away before the girl can say more… misguided things, and grabs Zoro by the arm. “We’re leaving.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, cook,” Zoro says, but he lets Sanji lead him through the crowd. Sanji keeps a secure grip on Zoro’s arm throughout the way. Zoro might get lost, you see, and then Sanji has to spend hours looking for him throughout the island. Wouldn’t be the first time that happens.

Sanji’s hand tightens around Zoro’s arm, and he ignores the way it almost mimics the sudden tightness that runs through his chest from the touch.

It’s been a week and they have long sailed away from that island, but the conversation still bothers the fuck out of Sanji, so he goes to Usopp’s workshop. It pains him to admit, but this is something he can’t talk about with the girls (regardless of how wonderful and smart they are), and Usopp might be full of shit but he’s a good friend, and sometimes he says the exact things Sanji wants to hear, so.

“When the fuck did I start dating Zoro?” He asks as he steps into the room.

Usopp doesn’t even bother to look up from his new invention. “Did you forget your anniversary or something?”

Definitely not the things Sanji wanted to hear. “Did I forget my—no, that was a rhetorical question, I didn’t forget my anniversary because we were never dating!”

“Very funny, Sanji,” Usopp says. When Sanji doesn’t reply in favor of having a heart attack and an aneurysm at the same time, Usopp finally tears his eyes away from his workbench and frowns. “…wait, really?”

Sanji takes every good thing he has said about Usopp back. Usopp is full of shit, period . “Really! Why would I lie about this?”

“I don’t know! I mean, you and Zoro,” Usopp says, and visibly inches away when he sees how quickly Sanji’s face sours. “You two have this, this thing going on, so we’ve always thought—”

“‘We’?!” Sanji zeroes in, because there are so many things wrong in that sentence that the only way to maintain his feeble grasp on sanity is to tackle it word by word.

“Royal ‘we’!” Usopp squeaks. “Just, the general we, no-one-specific we, actually, I’ve caught the ‘I-Can-Only-Use-the-Pronoun-We’ sickness in the last island—”

“Cook!” A voice from the deck interrupts Usopp’s rambling. Sanji would recognize that annoying voice even with both ears plugged. In his sleep.

“Shut up! I’m in the middle of something important, Marimo!” He shouts back. There’s a loud thump from the deck in place of a civilized reply because Zoro is a brute, and Sanji groans and adds, “fine, I’m coming!”

“I want five!” Zoro shouts.

“Three!” Sanji fires back, and then grumbles under his breath, “ungrateful bastard, who the fuck even eats five spring rolls during snack time? Still had the gall to ask for drinks on top of that! One day I’ll put saltwater inside his stupid mug and he’ll finally beg me for mercy…”

When he turns back to Usopp, the we’re not done yet dies in his lips as Usopp gives him a funny look.

Sanji squirms under the scrutiny. “What?”

“You got all that just from ‘I want five’ and a thump?”

Sanji huffs. “It’s Zoro. That idiot can only speak in caveman language. I’m just smart enough to interpret his stupid grunts.”

The funny look doesn’t disappear from Usopp’s face, and it’s sort of pissing Sanji off. “Yeah. Sure.”

Sanji opens his mouth to disagree with whatever the hell Usopp is implying, but Zoro’s thump evolves into a bang, and he shouts, “If you smash the deck again I hope Franky kills you this time!”

He stomps out of the workshop, Usopp forgotten.

There’s a group of marines sitting a few tables away, and Sanji has a feeling that they’re beginning to recognize him.

They aren’t exactly subtle about it; they are all looking down at the same paper, presumably Sanji’s bounty poster, and a couple of them start pointing and gesturing at his table. Amateurs, Sanji thinks.

Sanji takes another gulp of his drink and listens in on their conversation, just in case. He can take them all down in his sleep, of course, but he would rather not do it in the middle of a crowded bar when others can get unnecessarily drawn into the fight and injured. He’d leave when it looks like they’re about to take action.

“It’s Black Leg, I’m sure,” he overhears one of them say.

“One hundred and seventy-seven million berries,” another chimes in, obviously excited. “Even split five ways, we could each get thirty-five. We should go for it; I think we can all handle a below two-hundred.”

Sanji feels a vein popped up on his forehead. He is ready to stand up and show them what it’s truly like to face someone with his grossly undervalued bounty, when one of the marines suddenly says, “no, are you crazy, haven’t you heard of the rumors?”

Sanji pauses. Interesting. Is there some cool rumor surrounding him? Is it about how terrifying his kicks are? Or maybe it’s about how his observation haki is so amazing nobody can even touch him—

“If you go after Black Leg,” the marine elaborates, “his boyfriend is going to come and get you.”

Sanji’s brain short-circuits.

“His boyfriend?” another pipes in, oblivious to Sanji’s breakdown. “Are you talking about Pirate Hunter Zoro?”

What the fuck?

“Yeah!” The first marine searches his pocket, and pulls out another poster, most probably Zoro’s. “Look at how terrifying he is! Three hundred and twenty million berries! We won’t win against him.”

Oh, that was it. They’re fucking dead.

Sanji haphazardly throws throws payment for his drinks at the bar, takes large strides towards the marine and slams his foot against their table. The wooden table cracks and crumbles into pieces at the impact with a loud bang, and the whole room goes quiet.

“Heard some familiar names being thrown around,” he says, lips stretched into a humorless, feral grin. He cracks his neck as the marines scramble to their feet in panic, a fruitless attempt to run away from him. Sanji takes several steps towards them as his legs start to catch on fire. “Only beautiful ladies are allowed to say my name.”

Sanji is no longer welcome to that bar.

“So, Cook-Bro, when did you two get together?”

Sanji’s hand slips, swinging his hammer down a little too hard, and the wooden block he’s helping Franky nail snaps into two. “Who?”

“You and Zoro-san, obviously,” Brook chimes in when it’s clear Franky won’t answer, grumbling about ‘monster strength’ and ‘too many broken blocks.’ Brook, who’s also been helping on the restoration of the crow’s nest after a particularly nasty storm yesterday, starts laughing. “I would imagine the two of you have spent so much time consummating your relationship on this very spot, and we simply got curious.”

There are...so many factual inaccuracies in that statement that Sanji is actually impressed by his crewmates’ imagination.

“What the shit?” He says, trying to laugh it off. “You’re joking, right?”

Franky and Brook visibly freeze. Pausing from their respective work, they turn, slowly, giving Sanji twin bewildered stares before looking at each other.

“Forgive me if I was wrong, Sanji-san,” Brook begins, twirling his bony fingers together as he carefully says, “but I’ve always thought I simply missed the beginning of your and Zoro-san’s love story, seeing that I joined the crew a little bit later than everyone else.”

“Yeah, same with me, actually,” Franky says, and he’s staring at Sanji like he’s looking at the man for the first time in his life. “I mean, when I joined, you and Zoro-bro were already,” he flips up his sunglasses and frowns at Sanji. “You know ,” he says conspiratorially.

“I don’t know,” Sanji says, because what the hell, he doesn’t . When did this even begin? He always thought that the whole incident with the marines was just one of those ridiculous marine rumors, in the same vein of people thinking Robin can kill people with a wink and Shanks secretly has twenty different wives hidden in East Blue. Tall tales of people with high bounties aren’t exactly a new concept.

But then he remembers his exchange with Usopp, and that one conversation he had with Luffy in the galley, and the beautiful flower lady a few islands ago, and fuck, holy fuck, this is a thing , isn’t it? Is this what everyone has been thinking the whole time? Is this what the ladies have been thinking the whole time ?

That he’s been, what, banging the marimo?

He tries to school his expression into something resembling a smile, his jaws clenching a little. “Me and that Marimo aren’t a thing,” he explains.

“Really?” Brook asks, and he sounds so genuinely disappointed that it almost makes Sanji feel bad. Almost. “Not at all?”

Sanji grits his teeth. “I think I would know.”

“So you and Zoro-bro aren’t,” Franky says, and his hands make a horrifyingly obscene gesture, made worse by the fact that Franky’s hands are the size of Sanji’s head each. “Doing this?”

“No,” Sanji says flatly. He gets the vague impression that he’s just figured out the existence of a new level of hell, and his crewmates are the gatekeepers.

Zoro steps out of the dressing room wearing the most mismatched outfits Sanji has ever laid his eyes upon—a green tie on a purple suit and, with an orange dress suit underneath. Zoro’s pants are bright yellow. Sanji thinks he just got a minor headache from the sight alone.

“Happy?” Zoro grumbles, clearly irritated by the whole proceeding.

“Are you colorblind?” Sanji says in place of an answer, and starts shoving him back towards the dressing room. “Never mind, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Just let me pick the clothes for you already.”

“You always pick the expensive ones,” Zoro protests.

“No I don’t, you’re just poor,” Sanji argues back. “Listen, I want this to end just as quickly as you do, so stay inside, be nice, and wear whatever I tell you to wear. Don’t worry, Nami-san is always generous enough to lend you some berries for the clothes.

“That’s because she’s trying to rip me off,” Zoro shouts back from inside the room, but Sanji refuses to acknowledge such preposterous accusation towards a queen like Nami. He opts to start picking clothes instead, making sure they’re of the right size for Zoro’s stupidly overtrained muscles, and throws the whole thing into the room.

When Zoro walks out of it this time, he is decidedly more...presentable. In white dress shirt, black tie and dark green vest, the mosshead doesn’t seem like he’s trying to blind every person who has had the misfortune of seeing him anymore. Sanji could even say he’s...handsome.

In, like, a friend-way.

Super platonic.

This whole thing is a mess .

He decides to distract himself from that dangerous train of thoughts by dramatically pointing at Zoro’s tie, groaning, “eugh, do you even know how to tie a tie?”

Zoro crosses his arms indignantly. “Of course I do,” he says. And then, when Sanji simply stares at him skeptically, amends, “not really, but I made some guesses. It wasn’t that hard.”

Disgusting. Downright barbaric . Sanji doesn’t know what he expected from such an uncultured brute.

He walks right into Zoro’s personal space and starts fixing his tie, grumbling, “why do I have to do everything,” and Zoro lets him, body leaning slightly into Sanji to give him better access, contrasting the way his arms are still crossed in a stubborn pose.

Just as Zoro goes off to pay (with Nami’s money that Sanji will make sure he’ll pay back), one of the shop attendants walks up to Sanji and starts giggling. “It’s so cute to see your boyfriend let you pick his clothes for him,” she says without preamble, “oh, what I’d give to have my girlfriend let me pick her clothes for her. Her fashion sense is so terrible too.”

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realize what the girl means. “No, no,” he immediately says when what she’s implying finally dawns on him, “you’re getting this wrong, my dear.”

She continues to giggle. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” she says, and winks at him. “If he asks, he totally picked those clothes by himself.”

Sanji feels like he’s going to cry, and he mutters to himself, “I should’ve let that stupid Marimo wear those ugly clothes.”

The girl clasps her hands together excitedly. “Oh, I feel that too!” she says cheerfully, completely missing the point, “we all have a soft spot for our significant other, including their bad fashion decisions.”

When Zoro finally returns from the cashier, Sanji kicks him in the shin just because he can.

The clothing store incident was the last straw, because, well. Sanji can handle people thinking that he and Zoro are banging—physical attractions between crew members aren’t exactly unheard of for pirates, and Zoro isn’t exactly bad-looking. Not that Sanji is actually having sex with Zoro on the regular, of course. Never even crossed his mind, really. Except that one time, at that one summer island, but it must have been the heat.

The point is, Sanji can handle raunchy, sex rumors. But it’s a whole different ball game when people think he and Zoro are—he shudders at the thought—in love.

So before Sanji could second guess his own decisions, he forces himself to confront the ladies. He finds them lounging under the mikan trees, and he half-hops towards them, a tray of drinks balanced carefully on his left hand.

There isn’t a good way to lead up to the question, so he blurts, “do you think Zoro and I are dating?”

There’s a pause.

And then, Robin turns to Nami and says, with a little smile, “it seems our bet has come to an end in my favor.”

“Damn it!” Nami exclaims, pulling out some bills from her pocket. “I was so sure he wouldn’t catch on for a couple more months.”

This isn’t happening, Sanji thinks despairingly as he, in horror, watches Nami reluctantly handing the money over to a smiling Robin. I am dreaming and this is a nightmare . “Nami-san. Robin-chan,” he says, because he thinks he’s going to burst into tears if he tries to say something else.

“Oh, yeah, you and Zoro,” Nami turns to him, almost like she’s forgotten about him in favor of mourning the loss of her money, which is probably true. “You two are dating, no question about that.”

“Nami- san ,” he says, voice raising a few notches higher. “Zoro and I aren’t sleeping together.”

“We didn’t exactly say anything about sexual intercourse,” Robin points out, and Sanji never imagined this is how he’d get Robin to finally talk about sex; his imagination usually involved much less clothing and even fewer mentions of Zoro. Somewhere around the value of zero mentions, in a perfect world.

Sanji does not live in a perfect world.

“You take care of him, he has your back in a fight,” Nami adds. “Whenever you two are in the same room it’s like everyone else stops existing.”

“That’s not true,” Sanji argues, but the argument sounds weak, even to himself.

Nami gives him a flat look. “You guys were playing footsies under the table when we went to that food stall in the last island.”

“It was a manly feet competition ,” Sanji sputters. “That I was winning .” He also can’t help adding, just because.

Both Robin and Nami give him sad, identical looks that makes Sanji feel like he’s one of those pitiful dishes he made when he was eleven that adults pretended to like, and Sanji resists the urge to throw himself overboard.

The girls then turn to each other and have one of those silent conversations they usually have when any of their male crewmembers starts doing something particularly stupid, which involves a lot of eyebrow raising and pitying looks. Sanji prides himself of rarely being at the ends of that look, but as always, Zoro is making that feat increasingly difficult to maintain.

It’s Nami who finally turns back towards Sanji and suggests, “if you’re so unsure about it, why dont u just ask Zoro?”

And that’s...well.

Before Sanji’s brain can fully process Nami’s question and the incoming headache it seems to cause, Robin smiles and says, “I’m sure Zoro will be happy to explain.”

Sanji possess a healthy amount of respect for women that is far from fear, but in that moment, there may have a been some chills running down his spine.

“Thank you for the drink, Sanji-kun,” Nami says with a sip from her cup, signalling the end of their conversation.

Sanji is a smart, calm, and rational decision-maker, so clearly the first thing he does is file the whole thing into a neat little box in his head, pack it all up, and pretend nothing ever happened.

He admits he isn’t very good with the last part; it’s only been a week since the disaster of a conversation with the ladies, and he’s already caught himself avoiding Zoro multiple times. The swordsman clearly notices, and it’s almost impressive how the man can wear a flat expression and still exude the aura of kicked puppy every time Sanji looks away whenever their eyes accidentally meet across the room.

Not that Sanji would ever equate Zoro to a puppy. That would be an insult to the entire canine species.

“Is that our afternoon snack today, Sanji?” Chopper asks, his tiny head peering over the counter, eyes wide and practically sparkling at the macaroons on the counter.

Sanji looks up from a neatly stacked tower, arranged in order of color wheel and size because he strives for nothing short of perfection. There are only eight towers, though, and Chopper, ever observant, quickly notices.

Chopper tilts his head. “Did you not make any for yourself?”

Sanji shakes his head and shrugs at the baking tray left at the kitchen counter. “The ones for the Marimo isn’t done; I made his a little bit different from everyone else because he doesn’t like sweets.”

Chopper breaks into a smile at that. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Sanji! Zoro would definitely appreciate it!”

Zoro’s taste buds have not advanced past the level of a starfish’s so Sanji doubts the brute would even notice, but you don’t exactly disagree with the bundle of joy that is Chopper. “Sure.”

He takes a little bite from another batch, testing its taste. It dawns on him that his earlier agreement might come across as a special gesture for Zoro, so he rushes to add, “not that it’s anything special, really. I do this all the time for everyone, including you, Chopper.”

Chopper nods, once again distracted by the colorful treats, but Sanji still feels the need to continue, “and anyways, I guess I just want to make things even, you know? He bought me this really ugly tie, and I…”

He trails off, and absentmindedly touches the tie he’s wearing. It’s a gift, which Zoro bought him for no reason when they went on a walk together in the last island. They do it more often than he’s willing to admit, sometimes under the guise of Zoro being a pack mule for Sanji’s supply run. And Zoro always pays for the food they get afterwards, because there’s no way Sanji is paying when Zoro’s the one picking the shitty restaurant, and they have dinner together and bicker over the candlelit table, their knees almost touching underneath—

“Oh, shit,” Sanji curses, hand still hovering around the tie from Zoro, resting above his heart. The neat little box in his head is spilling all over. “That was a date.”

He finds Zoro at the crow’s nest.

The swordsman is lifting a weight the size of Little Merry, which is totally an overcompensation for something , but thinking about Zoro’s dick in this situation isn’t exactly helpful so Sanji tries his best to ignore it.

He slumps down at one of the benches, and Zoro ignores him for the most part.

“Are we dating?” He asks after a long pause.

Zoro doesn’t even miss a beat, that asshole. “Huh. those girls are right. Never thought you’d ever catch on, cook.”

Sanji scowls. “What do you take me for?” He says, as if he didn’t just figure this out a few hours ago. “An idiot?”

Zoro doesn’t answer and opts to pause with his training and give him a look, which is an answer in and of itself, really.

It's not the time for a fight, though, so Sanji makes a vague gesture at the empty space beside him, and his… boyfriend, apparently, what the fuck—takes a seat beside him.

He takes a long drag from his cigarette because he feels like swallowing his arm whole. “What were you going to do?” He asks. “If i never...you know.”

Zoro shrugs. His expression is unreadable. “Probably nothing,” the swordsman says. “I like what we have, cook. I wasn’t going to ruin it.”

The word bothers Sanji more than he expected it would. “Ruin it?” He echoes.

Zoro sighs. “I knew you were going to freak out.”

“What? No.” Sanji scoffs. Or tries to. It somehow comes out more like the sound a drowning chicken makes. “What? No .”

Zoro narrows his eye at him. “You’re literally freaking out right now.”

“I’m not freaking out, ” Sanji half-yells, which is probably a clear sign that he’s freaking the fuck out, so, okay, maybe a little bit. Just a teensy tiny bit.

Zoro smirks at his reaction, and oh, fuck, now that Sanji knows where to look, Zoro’s smile actually looks fond . “It’s not like you’re going anywhere, you know?” Zoro explains. “And when this whole thing ends, I can just follow you, stay at whatever stupid restaurant you’re going to build in All Blue.”

Zoro smiles, at that, soft and barely-there but touches his eyes nonetheless. It sends a weird warmth, spreading through Sanji’s chest. “I know I can,” he says, and, “I know you’ll let me.”

The words knock a breath out of Sanji. The trust, pressed in between every syllable, is loud and clear—for Zoro, to believe wholeheartedly in Sanji’s dream like it was his own, in the existence of the All Blue. And for Zoro, who was ready to die for his own dream, to actually think of what is coming after. To have Sanji be a part of it.

Zoro must have taken Sanji’s dumbstruck silence the wrong way, though, because for the first time since the conversation started, there’s a flash of uncertainty across his expression.

“Listen, cook, you don’t have to—” Zoro looks away, and rubs the back of his neck in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “I don’t need you to love me back. What we have, it’s good enough for me. We don’t have to call it anything if you don’t want me to.”

And that finally got Sanji to speak up, because the mosshead cannot be more wrong, and Sanji never passes up the opportunity to point out Zoro’s mistakes. So he puts out his cigarette and says, “shut up. Shut up.”

Zoro goes quiet and stares at him. Okay, so he can look like a cute puppy. Sometimes. The cute part is still arguable.

“Stop assuming everything shithead,” Sanji jabs his finger at Zoro’s chest. “I just found out that not only I’m dating a shitty swordsman, I’m also apparently in love with him, and that’s all you have to say?”

Sanji waits for the words to sink in, and he watches Zoro’s face break into a slow-starting smile. It erases the hard edges of his expression, makes him look younger, and Sanji thinks he’s a little in love with it.

He’s kind of a little in love with everything about Zoro, really. That’s part of this whole dating thing, he’s been told.

“Cook,” Zoro says, and he looks like he’s stumbling with his words, because he pauses, and corrects himself, “Sanji. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Sanji doesn’t need to be told twice and closes the distance between them.

10.

“Oi,” Zoro says after they pull away, blunt and straightforward and so very Zoro . “Can we do that again?”

Sanji laughs, and pulls Zoro into another kiss. “We’re dating, dumbass. Of course.”

#zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece #my writing #//#zoro #op

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disneydreamlights · 7 years

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Alright, so I'd like to know about Sera (2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 15, 18, 20, 22, 25), Stella (2, 6, 7, 9, 10, 15, 16, 17, 18, 24, 25), Kat (1, 4, 8, 9, 13, 14, 16, 23, 25), Nina (4, 6, 8, 9, 13, 15, 18, 20, 23, 24, 25), and Terra (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 13, 16, 20, 22, 25) cuz wainot. owo

So many questions Dustin whai? XD

Sera:

2: their smile

Sera’s smile is very similar to her sister’s but honestly a little bit more reserved. She tries not to be so reserved in it, but she doesn’t quite have the same willingness to share all her emotions.

3: their greatest achievement

So I’ve mentioned a lot of times how she’s really disappointed she can’t really wield a Keyblade because of the injuries she sustained with the darkness. The longer I’ve been thinking on this, the more I think her injuries are a lot more severe than just that and she probably had to go through some serious recovery, and to me I think there would be no greater achievement to her then starting to dance and being able to prove she’s physically fit to do things, even if it’s too late to learn how to wield a Keyblade.

5: their shortcomings

Her self confidence is always constantly in doubt, sure she acts super strong, but because she can’t be a Keyblade Master like her sister she honestly believes she’ll never be as good as her. This doubt and inferiority actually leads to her having a darkness issue too, one that she tries to ignore.

8: what they like to eat

Sugar, sugar, and more sugar, her sweet tooth is absolutely awful, as in it’s worse than mine.

13: their embarrassing memory from years ago

...Okay listen I’m not saying Sera actually got drunk before any of the rps but there was one time where Sera accidentally drank some alcohol while she was fifteen and remembering any of the time she was drunk and Sky had to watch over her like a two year old the entire time to keep herself from hurting herself.

15: how they react to a brainfreeze

She literally ignores it and keeps eating, this girl is crazy with her ice cream but if she gets a brain freeze she’ll like wince and keep eating and what the fuck Sera how???

18: how they sleep

Curled into a ball, hugging a small plush toy her sister bought her right before leaving to start for Keyblade training. She’s long since outgrown the toy, she shouldn’t keep hugging the small doll, but she does anyways just because she loves it so much.

20: their reaction to a mystery love letter

Honestly Sera’s really pretty and a famous dancer, she’s very used to receiving love letters and the stuff, so she doesn’t really give it a second glance unless she recognized the handwriting.

22: what they're like on two hours of sleep

Sleep drunk. She gets silly and loopy. She also loses all sense of balance so dancing becomes a pain in the ass for her to do. XD

25: why you enjoy them

I love Sera because she’s one of the most challenging to get a grip on, but she’s also incredibly good for interaction and I can’t say I’ve had a bad performance with her so long as she interacts with a few different characters. So I guess she’s my go to when I want an easy oc.

Stella:

2: their smile

She gives a lot of small, hesitant smiles. It’s not that Stella doesn’t like giving big smiles, she’s just had a pretty rough life, and that makes it fairly difficult for her to be willing to give bigger smiles.

6: how they deal with grief

Ahahahahahahahaha. One time Dustin and I were bored (and yes Dustin I know I’m answering for you shut up) and we did a PMRP.

Stella went off the rails and tried to take over the world with her primary motivation being that she lost a very good friend. (This rp was actually why I made Stella.) To say she is bad with grief is a very, very large understatement.

7: how they like to dress

Stella would wear a dress every day if they weren’t so much pains to clean. But since they are she just tries to do her best to stay stylish and look cute whenever she can. She wears a lot of long sleeves or some reason.

10: their fashion sense

I uh...Stella has real good fashion sense, just not good color theory. It’s part of the reason why she tries to stick with dresses or jeans since they go with anything, otherwise she’s real bad at picking matching colors.

15: how they react to a brainfreeze

Stella actually avoids ice creams and smoothies and stuff to avoid brain freeze, that’s how much she hates dealing with it. Poor thing.

16: their dreams

Stella wishes to live in a world where people don’t get hurt, and where she could avoid having to hide what she is from people without worrying about them freaking out and being like “Shit what the fuck a robot? AHHHHHHHH” Too bad that won’t be happening for a while.

17: their ambitions

To escape to safety. Stella’s backstory is she’s an android who developed emotions and therefore was considered a threat when she reacted incorrectly to the people who made her who attempted to reprogram her. She just wants to avoid being reprogrammed for the most part and live in hiding safely for the rest of her life.

18: how they sleep

While she’ll sleep in a bed to preserve her own safety (typically on her stomach) Stella actually prefers sleeping in chairs. They’re easier to get out of and she can react quickly to anybody who might try to hurt her and get out of the area.

24: what motivates them

She’s motivated by two things. Love for the people who make all the difference to her, and fear of being found by the people who want to reprogram or deactivate her. Both are equally important to her.

25: why you enjoy them

Stella is a lot of fun to rp, her cheerful disposition that hides a lot of anger and hate and fear is one of the more complex characters I’ve actually rped, and that in turn makes her a lot of fun to write, not to mention her moral ambiguity is also pretty fun.

Kat:

1: their voice

Kat is very soft spoken, she doesn’t have the loudest voice and it is possible to miss some of the things she says. Honestly I’m bad at describing voices.

4: their insecurities

Anything related to her family and the fact that they’re all heroes or accomplished such a major thing, like holy crap the idea that she might fail to be as good as them is honestly so horrifying to her that it makes her not try because she’s not like them.

8: what they like to eat

Anything made by her grandpa, he’s probably the best cook she’s ever had the pleasure of meeting.

13: their embarrassing memory from years ago

So a fun fact of the day. Since most of her siblings with Kat was little had her mother’s lavender hair, Kat really wanted lavender hair, so she bought some hair dye with money she snuck out of her mom’s purse and then proceeded to dye her hair purple, but because she didn’t bleach the hair first and she died her own hair at like age nine, it looked like a disaster and her face was colored in the purple dyes for like two weeks. None of her siblings ever let her live it down.

14: how they react to burning their tongue on food

Kat will actually drop the food on the floor if it happens, don’t give her scalding hot food ever.

16: their dreams

Her dreams are really complicated. On one hand, Kat wants to be normal and nothing like her family, but really deep down, she dreams of being a hero, and it’s the fear of not being one that causes her anxieties and the belief that if she wasn’t one she’d let her family down. This causes a bunch of confusion for her tbh.

23: how they act when they're sick

Pffffft, drama queen. She acts like she’s dying, but I guess she got that from her mom. XD

25: why you enjoy them

Because Kat got good character interactions with a lot of the characters she talked to, and that was always pretty fun to do.

Nina:

4: their insecurities

Her intelligence is a big one. Nina is not the brightest apple in the bunch when it comes to anything with a lick of practicality, and as such she gets easily embarrassed by her own mistakes.

6: how they deal with grief

Nina panics, and panics, and panics, and it’s really quite good at trigger a depressive state in her tbh. The idea of somebody she loves dying will honestly make her want to die. So needless to say she is really, really bad at handling grief.

8: what they like to eat

If I were to give you one long list that said chocolate would you believe me?

13: their embarrassing memory from years ago

Honestly her entire life is one giant embarrassing memory. The worst was when she was learning to summon Vulll with her dad and somehow managed to use a Fire spell...I’m still not quite sure how it happened but she was covered in soot and managed to burn down a chair.

15: how they react to a brainfreeze

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!” “Nina it’s just a brainfreeze” “Niiiiiick I don’t care it’s a brain freeze it huuuuuuuurts.”

What a baby.

18: how they sleep

Nina sleeps best curled into people. I have it in my head that even when she got older she would sometimes sneak into her parent’s beds to sleep at night, and she loved having friends over who were chill with it since she liked to cuddle like that.

20: their reaction to a mystery love letter

She gets so excited and spends hours puzzling out who sent it, and even if she didn’t have feelings for them she’d probably agree to the date. Unfortunately for her, not a lot of people have feelings for her.

23: how they act when they're sick

She’s such a baby when sick oh my god. She won’t leave her blankets and acts like she’s dying literally the entire time. Nina you’re not dying stop being so dramatic a cold won’t kill you.

24: what motivates them

Nina is motivated entirely by her goals of helping others and becoming great. She’s a loving person and anybody she loves becomes another motivation for her to keep going no matter how bad it may get.

25: why you enjoy them

Honestly, Nina is fun. She’s not one of my best ocs, in fact writing wise, she’s probably one of the worst I’ve gotten the chance to use, but who even cares because she’s just fun. Does she have a serious backstory? Nope, I don’t even know most of it myself beyond the necessary events, but I also don’t care.

Terra:

1: their voice

Deeper voice, very loud. She has a surprisingly overbearing presence.

2: their smile

Terra gives out toothy smiles, a lot of the time after she’s just finished laughing especially. They’re honestly big, but not like the best smiles ever I guess.

4: their insecurities

Terra’s biggest insecurity is her fear of failure, but in a different sense than her sisters. Where as Kat is so afraid of failure she doesn’t try, Terra’s so afraid of failure she works doubly hard at whatever the goal may be.

5: their shortcomings

Terra’s shortcomings come a lot from being too determined to keep track of one goal. In all honesty in SS if it wasn’t for Matt, Clary, and Kenshi all working with Terra, she might’ve been ten times more obsessed with figuring out how to bring back Nicole. And I mean...she was already pretty bad with that in the rp itself.

7: how they like to dress

For lack of a better descriptor, think of the most stereotypical adventurer’s clothing you can think of. Now put it in a pastel shade of blue or purple.

That’s how Terra’s style works. Dammit Terra. .-.

8: what they like to eat

Terra shares her sister’s love of their grandpa’s cooking...and also sour candies. She lives on those things tbh.

13: their embarrassing memory from years ago

Once upon a time Terra met Clary. This resulted in baby Terra flocking to her cousin and acting like a cat for a whole twenty minutes.

She may have been only like two and being silly, but her parents have never let her live this down.

16: their dreams

To bring her grandmother back to life and be a Storm wizard worthy of following in her footsteps.

20: their reaction to a mystery love letter

I’m really leaning towards making Terra ace/aro tbh, so in all honesty she just really doesn’t care much about this love letter that she gets.

22: what they're like on two hours of sleep

Not functioning. She literally will not function until she manages to get her hands on something caffeinated while running on that little amount of sleep.

25: why you enjoy them

She may be trash for trash’s sake, but I think that’s part of the reason why I like her, because she’s me acknowledging full out that yes I am and want to be trash, which is also kinda dumb, but meh.

I also like some of the stuff I came up with involving her being an older sister after I made Kat but shhhh.

#Heather RPs #key2destne #Heather Answers

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wombatportrait · 7 years

Photo

I am mad they blocked this story and only let subscribers see it. But I busted through that wall. (It is a metaphor!) I copied it for you.

Liebe Grüße,

Donna

Painstaking: Alison Douglas at work. Pictures: Justine Walpole

It is an often overlooked but proven scientific fact that wombats have feelings too. Evolution did not, however, provide the humble wombat with the anatomical means to verbally express its feelings, or a natural place in which to do so. No coastal Buddhist wombat retreat, for example, where these quadrupedal marsupials might form trust circles to emotionally release themselves from the burden of playing second fiddle to the self-satisfied koala, or ponder the viciousness of the sociopathic dingo, or truly convey the overwhelming anxiety that sometimes makes a wombat just want to dig a hole in the ground and crawl deep inside. Stop the world, I want to waddle off.

Late November, 2016: Queensland Museum taxidermist and senior preparator Alison Douglas slips on a pair of surgical gloves as she pads through a basement room past a stack of arcing whale rib bones the size of two-person tent frames. She passes a large steel macerating tank where a long-deceased marine turtle is being boiled and stripped of gunk and grit before it’s transferred to a taxidermist’s table. She passes a freezer room filled with tagged specimens: “Echidnas”, “Prep birds”, “Possum”. Each animal’s tag contains details of where and when it was found. “You can have the most beautiful specimen in the world but if it doesn’t have its location and date then it’s useless to science,” Douglas says. Science needs the animal’s story.

She comes to a back room with a word fixed to its entry: “Skinning”. A stuffed ringtail possum sits on a perch in the corner of the room. A corkboard on the wall features detailed colour portraits of animals, and Post-it note messages between colleagues: “Cat skull for Caroline.” The room is lined with drawers with various tags speaking of their contents: “Red eyes”, “Yellow eyes”, “Paired brown eyes”. Drawers full of taxidermy patching fur. Another marked “Skins, Bones and Bits”.

There’s a dead animal beneath a sheet on Douglas’s stainless steel workbench. She removes the sheet slowly. It’s a common wombat. Brown fur, lumpy body, curled in a ball like it’s sleeping. “Here he is,” she says. “Tonka.”

She stands back and looks at that face. The bare nose. The serene eyes. The odd tenderness that emanates from the little guy, somehow soulful even in death. “He’s got such a beautiful face,” she says. “He looks like someone, doesn’t he?”

He does. Someone old and wise; someone you might have cared about. Someone with feelings.

“He just looks so peaceful,” she says. She takes a deep breath, feels the weight of the task before her. “Tonka’s not so important scientifically,” she says. “But he’s very important to people.”

Tonka the wombat had any number of reasons to feel sad throughout his short life. After his mum was killed by a car eight years ago, Tonka was rescued from her pouch and hand-reared by humans at Billabong Sanctuary, a native animal wildlife park near Townsville, north Queensland. Lacking the necessary smarts for the wild, Tonka was destined for a lifetime in captivity. But if he longed for life beyond the park enclosure he rarely let it show, rejoicing in the constant companionship of a loving team of rangers with whom he cuddled, played, walked, ate, napped. Some nights staff members would take him home to meet their families, prop him up on the living room couch with mum, dad and the kids, and settle in for another episode of The Block. Before long, Tonka the wombat became the park’s star attraction, dazzling groups at the morning and afternoon wombat shows with his charm and insatiable zest for life. Where some marsupials recoiled from the hugs of tourists, Tonka seemed to grow in spirit and confidence with every warm embrace. Male wombats wanted to be him, female wombats wanted to be with him.

Then, in early February 2011, Category 5 Cyclone Yasi tore through Billabong Sanctuary, smashing enclosures, destroying displays, uprooting trees. Miraculously no animals perished, but the park was closed for 10 weeks as an army of rangers and volunteers worked on the clear-up.

Tonka the wombat went off his food. No matter what the rangers placed in front of him, even his beloved carrots and sweet potato, he wouldn’t eat it. He dropped 20 per cent of his body weight in a matter of weeks. Just as alarmingly, he had suddenly retreated into himself. The wildly charismatic Austin Powers of the marsupial world inexplicably lost his mojo. It was as if Cyclone Yasi had blown away into oblivion and taken Tonka’s spark with it.

Park management consulted the best veterinary minds money could buy. They did blood tests, looked for internal damage, tested for disease and infection, checked his body for broken bones or bruising. Physically, there was nothing. So how to explain the reduced interest in once pleasurable activities, the loss of energy and slowed behaviour, the increased desire to sleep and the loss of appetite? The vets had nothing to offer, except to say bare-nosed wombats have feelings too. Tonka the wombat, it seemed, was living with clinical depression.

“He’s a bit chunky,” Douglas says, studying her subject on the metal workbench. “He’ll take a bit to thaw. He needs to be thawed out before we remove the skin. There’s no getting around that with taxidermy. You do have to skin the animal. It’s quite confronting – there’s blood and there’s guts and it’s kind of like a butcher’s shop in a way, especially with an animal of Tonka’s size.”

Douglas has worked as a taxidermist at Queensland Museum for 16 years, moving into it from a background in visual arts and props and puppet-making for theatre. “My interest is not in taxidermy as such; it’s very much museum taxidermy, for the purpose of conservation. It’s about teaching people about the animals. It is sometimes the only way of seeing these animals that you would otherwise never get up close to.”

A rustic leather case of medical tools is open on her workbench: scalpels, rat’s tooth tweezers for removing flesh from hard-to-reach places, pliers and scissors and wire cutters and fine metal scoops designed specifically for scooping the brains out of birds’ skulls. She has a selection of drill bits for working on the bones of larger animals and fixing specimens to wooden perches.

She studies Tonka on the bench. She will draw some sketches before she skins, capture the curve of his muscles, the sag of his body fat. “You’re trying to recreate the body shape that comes out of the animal,” she says. “You’re taking the skin off like a glove. The whole body comes out in one piece.” She moves closer to Tonka’s face. “There is something important about seeing him at this point,” she says. “I’m trying to preserve that face as much as possible.”

It was this face that was plastered under headlines around the world. “Wombat Diagnosed with Depression” wrote the Daily Mail. “Depressed Orphan Wombat” declared The Huffington Post. “Wombat Diagnosed with Clinical Depression” reported the Daily Mirror.

It seemed so absurd, a clinically depressed wombat. While scientists considered whether it was even possible, animal lovers across the social media world sent deep, life-affirming messages to the inexplicably gloomy bare-nosed wombat in Townsville, Queensland.“Focus on the little things, Tonka.”“Just keep waddling, Tonka, one paw at a time.”“Stars can’t shine without darkness, Tonka.”

“One hundred per cent, he had depression,” says Samm Sherman, a 27-year-old PhD candidate at James Cook University’s College of Science and Engineering, and the former Billabong Sanctuary wildlife carer who was closer to Tonka than anyone. Sherman documented her close friendship with Tonka through a series of Instagram images tagged “#bestfriendisawombat”.

“That wasn’t a joke,” she says. “It truly wasn’t a joke. He was my best friend. You can ask the people I worked with. They saw it. I loved him immediately when I saw him. He was just so special. I would take him for walks. I’d give him cuddles, a little chin scratch. I mean, I know we didn’t hang out all the time and it’s not like we’d go to the movies or anything, I’m not delusional, but if I was ever frustrated or stressed or anything I could go to him and give him a cuddle and I’d feel better. And… ummm… yeah.”

She pauses for a moment. “I miss him,” she says. She pauses for another moment. “Thanks for making me cry at work.”

Tina Janssen has spent the past decade running Safe Haven, a wombat research and rehabilitation centre in Mt Larcom, near Rockhampton. She was one of many experts Billabong Sanctuary consulted during Tonka’s downturn. “Yes, I think they can feel sadness,” she says. “Wombats are a very funny animal. They sulk. They don’t like change. That’s one of the big things with wombats. If you feed them, for example, at a certain time every day and then, all of a sudden, you change that, they will quite likely not eat.

“They’re really intelligent. People say, ‘Stubborn as a mule’ and I always say, ‘Well, you’ve never met a wombat’. They just dig in. And they get attachments. I have a captive-born wombat that I’ve cared for for 12 years and just recently I went away and for three nights she didn’t eat. If they have a square water bowl then you better bloody give them water in the square water bowl.”

Cyclone Yasi brought great change to Billabong Sanctuary. With the park’s rangers focused on the clean-up effort, Tonka’s daily routine was torn asunder. With no visitors for 10 weeks, he was denied his morning and afternoon wombat shows, something akin to Olivier being asked to wait forever in the wings at the Old Vic.

“He loved those shows,” Sherman says. “I would see him before the shows some days. He would be waiting at his gate, like, ‘Come on, let’s go people’.” The born entertainer. Tonka came alive before a gig. “He loved the cuddles from people. He needed the cuddles. I think it stemmed from not having a mum. But when the park was closed for a couple of months while they fixed everything up, there was no time for him to be cuddled.”

By the time the park was ready for its grand reopening, Tonka was considered too physically and emotionally fragile to resume the shows, and another wombat took his place. “When he saw the people, he walked up to the fence like [he was asking] ‘Why aren’t you picking me up for the show?’” Sherman says. “So one of the rangers took him out to meet people again. And, then, after his first cuddles he went back into his enclosure and started eating again. It genuinely was because he wasn’t getting his cuddles from people that he wasn’t eating.” Billabong Sanctuary’s star attraction was back, and so was Tonka’s self-esteem.

Valentine’s Day. Alison Douglas walks into her museum basement work room, past two cast and painted pythons and a taxidermy deer that’s been donated to the museum by a member of the public. She enters the skinning room, where Tonka waits on her workbench. He looks playful. She’s captured him at a typically spirited moment, tugging on the shoelace of a Billabong Sanctuary ranger. “He came together all right in the end,” Douglas says. “I wanted to show that he wasn’t just any wombat, he meant something more to people. I was trying to get that sense of fun and connection he had to anyone who came along.”

She worked on him over summer. His skin was put in a tanning solution for three weeks and washed. She cast his ears and the shape of his back. She cast his skull and rebuilt it with expanding foam, and gave him glass black eyes. The insides of his body and legs were painstakingly crafted from natural plant fibres and bound tightly with string. “He was quite a challenge because during his treatment [after death] he had patches of fur removed, which limited the choices of positions he could be in,” she says. “The patching wasn’t as straightforward as it usually would be because there wasn’t much to work with, but I’m happy with him.” Her time with Tonka has ended. Time to take him upstairs where others can enjoy his company. Time to say goodbye.

Samm Sherman remembers when she said goodbye to Tonka. It was June last year, and Tonka had been diagnosed with kidney failure. “I’m gonna tear up again,” she says, taking a breath. “I wasn’t working there anymore by then but I still visited quite often... And the last couple of days, when it seemed like he was really having a hard time of it, we’d go and he wasn’t really eating much but he ate a pear. He didn’t stand up for a bit but he ate this pear lying down. He didn’t usually eat pears but it was because it was soft and full of fluid. And then they told us they were going to take him to the vet to euthanise him.”

She pauses again. “That was the right call because there was nothing they could do,” she says. “He had irreversible kidney damage and his quality of life was really poor. He seemed really unhappy. A bunch of us went in and gave him some cuddles. And we said our goodbyes.”

She showered Tonka with nose kisses. She scratched him on the spot on his back where he loved being scratched and he curled up in her arms. She didn’t know what he was thinking but she had an idea of what he was feeling because she felt it too. “And I told him I loved him,” she says.

Sherman went home and waited for the world to hear the news of Tonka the wombat’s passing. She watched the hundreds of condolence messages land in Billabong Sanctuary’s Facebook page, messages from across the world.

Jill Halliday: “I didn’t even know what a wombat was before I cuddled the lovely Tonka. I know how sad we feel from meeting him once so it must be awful for everyone at Billabong Sanctuary.”

Linda Chillon: “I hope that you’ll find peace and happiness wherever you are.”

Crystal Allen: “Oh no, poor Tonka. My two youngest boys come to visit each school holidays and knew his story off by heart.”

Kerrianne Chappell: “Noooo! I don’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it!”

In the museum basement taxidermy room, Alison Douglas throws a half-smile at this perfect and still version of Tonka. Soon the great performer will be back where he belongs, in front of crowds of fawning strangers. Douglas is relieved. She wanted to do him justice. She hopes people see the same thing she sees when she looks at him now, something she was trying to capture, something beyond science, something more closely related to feelings.

“He was loved,” she says. “And they loved him because they knew him.”

Tonka and Alison Douglas will be part of the Let’s Talk Taxidermy event on March 24-25 at the World Science Festival in Brisbane. worldsciencefestival.com.au

#wombat #tonka #taxidermy

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thekuroiookami · 7 years

Text

KnB (Fairytale AU) - If the glove fits

Of all things, he was going to be defeated by a soot stain. Kagami scrubbed the hem of the silk coat with renewed vigour, but to no avail. The black patch stubbornly stayed where it was, a glaring mishap on the sheen of the otherwise pearly white fabric. He sighed and dropped the damp cloth onto the table.

“Well, I suppose I don’t have to expect any dinner tonight.” He grumbled at the injustice. “Even though I’ll be the one cooking it.”

Right on cue, the summoning bell in the kitchen tinkled angrily. He peered blearily out of one eye. Of course, it was one of his step-siblings. Of course. Who else had the capacity to torment him while he was bone tired?

With a sigh drawn from a world-weary soul, he wiped his hands on his apron, checking on the stew bubbling in the hearth as he left. Hoping that he wouldn’t be held up too long by whatever inane order they gave him next, Kagami opened the door to his step-brother’s opulent boudoir.

He dodged as a heeled shoe narrowly missed his head, hitting the door with a thunk. With dawning horror, he watched as the expensively studded buckle tumbled off. Another thing he’d have to spend precious hours repairing. He turned around to scowl at the attacker.

“What took you so long, idiot? Huh, I suppose I shouldn’t expect much out of someone so slow in the head, anyway.” Aomine lounged on a garishly striped couch, shirt half open, and the other shoe dangling from his fingers. “Oye, get me something to eat, and be quick about it. While you’re at it, my pillow book is missing. Find that as well.”

Kagami gritted his teeth and tried, again, to find that kindness and patience his mother had told him about. It was nowhere to be found. “I’m not a slave you can just order around as you please, moron. And dinner’s in two hours. Wait until then.”

Aomine stood up, lazily twirling the shoe. “Getting ideas too big for your head, errand boy? Don’t forget, it may be your mother’s house, but you live off our money. Don’t push your luck, or you’ll find yourself singing for coppers on the street. Now bring me my sandwich.”

Kagami let out a laugh that couldn’t quite hide his bitterness. “There’s no chance of that, seeing not one of you can cook. You’d die in a week if I weren’t around to keep house.”

A sinister yet musical voice sent sudden chills down his back. “You overestimate your value, Kagami. I would have cut you from the household long ago, if it were not for the memory of your dear mother.”

He took a step back, face frozen in guilty terror, as Akashi glided into the room, followed a disinterested Midorima. He gulped as his step-father’s narrowed crimson eyes surveyed him, the disdain evident. Kagami’s other sibling merely huffed in annoyance and went back to inspecting the miniature cuckoo clock he was carrying.

Akashi slowly strolled past the dressing table, trailing his fingers over the white wood. “I’m more than happy to hire new, more competent help if I thought it was necessary. But how else would you earn your keep here, Kagami? I am being more generous than many people would be, by taking you in.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. “BUT IT ISN’T YOUR MONEY! And I can’t just make food appear on a whim just because this glutton said so!”

Kagami stilled in fear as Akashi abruptly clenched his fingers around a silver hairbrush lying on the bureau. His eye glinted gold in the mirror as he slowly turned back to face a panicked Kagami.

“What did you say?”

“I mean- err-“

“Surely,” Akashi cut him off with deadly calm, “surely you were not attempting to defy me?”

Kagami shook his head frantically, eyes glued to the potentially fatal hairbrush in Akashi’s hand as the latter prowled forward. A previous incident with a letter opener had made Kagami wary of all projectiles in Akashi’s hands. His terrifying, evil, demonic step-parent spoke again.

“Because that would be unthinkable. One would almost say you had a death-wish.”

“I do not, milord. I’m sorry.”

After holding Kagami in the thrall of his satanic gaze for one more moment to ensure total subservience, Akashi nodded regally. “Then you may show your gratitude by making sure my sons are ready for the ball in three nights. I want them dressed in their very best. We’re trying to catch the eye of a princess, after all.”

Midorima and Aomine sat to attention at this. The former pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. “So it has been announced then? The princess is taking suitors?”

Akashi’s lips curved in a calculating smile. “Yes, the invitations just arrived this morning. Any man invited to the ball is eligible for her hand. All we need do is snare her.”

Aomine’s grin was lascivious. “I’ve heard she’s pretty easy on the eyes. And that she fills out her corsets nicely. I wouldn’t mind being shackled to a woman like that.”

Midorima spared a contemptuous glance for his brother. “I do not believe any discerning woman would take a second look at you. On the other hand, I will be well-prepared to charm her.”

“With your lucky item of the day?” Aomine scoffed at the notion. “If it’s anything like that thing you’re holding now, she’ll wise up quick to the fact that you escaped from the asylum.”

“Now, now,” said Akashi before things could heat up further, “we were discussing the matter of your attire. As I was saying, Kagami will be responsible for your clothing. Luckily, the market will be stocking new fabric tomorrow, so there will be just enough time to finish stitching it.”

Kagami felt his stomach drop. “New fabric? But that’s not enough time to make three coats from scratch!”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Akashi’s eyes burned into Kagami. “Won’t you?”

His shoulders slumped as he realized he wouldn’t be getting any sleep for the next few days. “Yes, milord.”

XXX

Kagami worked furiously for the next two days, sewing and cutting until his fingers were numb with pain. He had been deprived of some valuable time on the first day as Aomine dithered over what colour to pick. He knew the torment was deliberate on Aomine’s part. When he finally settled on a navy silk after three hours, Kagami’s joy had been cut short by the fact that Midorima’s belated appearance. Apparently the gypsy fortune-teller had read Midorima’s cards and suggested that he get – of all things – a frog shaped pin to ward off bad luck. There ensued another painful hour where Midorima hemmed and hawed until he found the forest-green velvet he wanted. After rushing home to cook dinner (because it wasn’t like house could run itself, Akashi said), he had barely enough time to take measurements and cut the cloth before collapsing into bed.

Now, he triumphantly dropped the scissors onto the floor and tied off the last stitch. “There, it’s done.”

Midorima tapped his foot impatiently. “Then hand it over, I must get ready. There’s barely two hours till the carriage arrives.”

Aomine sauntered in, grabbed his clothes, and went back out without a word of thanks. Akashi was also about exit the room when Kagami hesitantly spoke up. “Can I go too? To the ball, I mean?”

Akashi paused before answering. “Of course, I see no reason why not.”

He brightened until the red-head spoke again. “If you finish cleaning every fire-place in the manor before we leave, that is.”

Kagami watched his so-called family walk away, heart splintering until he was hollow inside. The ball would have been a chance to meet new people, perhaps find someone that liked duelling as much as he did. The princess he didn’t care much about, but the prince was rumoured to have a band of fighters that sailed the high seas in search of adventure. This would have been a golden opportunity to meet him, and maybe impress him enough that he’d ask Kagami to join. But, as always, fate liked to have the last laugh.

He stood on the porch, watching the last of his hopes fade away as the carriage rumbled down the drive with his cackling step-siblings in it. Sighing, he prepared to go start on the fireplaces.

“My, your family really aren’t very nice, are they?” A thoughtful voice came from somewhere near Kagami’s elbow.

He leapt back in fright as he realized a faintly glowing person stood next to him. “Who- what are you?”

The apparition’s mouth turned down at the corners. “You mean you don’t remember me, Kagami? I suppose you were younger then, but still…”

A hazy memory made its way to the surface of Kagami’s mind. “Ku..ro..ko?”

“That’s right. Guardian fairy, at your service.” Kuroko produced a taped-together wand for emphasis.

“Guardian fairy? Some use you are. Where were you when I was being abused all this time?” If it weren’t for the blue glow, Kagami would have labelled the whole thing a scam.

Kuroko seemed to droop in despair. “I apologize, I didn’t know. As you can see, my magic is much weaker than the average fairy, so much that I go unnoticed most of the time. I mean, I was supposed to appear with a burst of light, but I barely managed a few sprinkles.”

Kagami nodded in understanding. If he squinted really hard, he could see some glitter in the lamplight.

Kuroko continued his sad tale. “It’ll get better when the Bureau processes my promotion, but until then, I can’t do anything large-scale. Like change your life for the better.”

Kagami sighed. “So what are you here for then? To chat?”

“I overheard you saying you wanted to go to the ball. I can help with that. First, you need transportation. Is there anything we can use?”

An excited bark startled the both of them. Kagami scrambled back as he realised a blue-eyed puppy had been watching the whole time. “Get it away from me!”

Kuroko smiled at the happy dog. “Yes, you’ll do nicely.” Kagami watched in fascination as the fairy drew some complex runes in the air, sparks emitting from the crack in the wand. The puppy began to glow with the same blue light as Kuroko and there was a sudden flash.

When Kagami blinked his eyes back into shape again, a dappled pony stood in the dog’s place, eagerly pawing at the ground. A polished saddle and bridle marked it as a form of converyance.

He turned to Kuroko, incredulous. “This? This is your idea of transportation? Shouldn’t it be a proper horse at least?” Granted, it was a rather large pony, but still.

Kuroko returned a deadpan look. “There are rules about these things, Kagami. Conservation of matter and such. You can’t just turn a puppy into a full-grown horse. It has to be proportionate across species. Now, if we had a Great Dane, it would be a different story.”

Kagami rubbed his temples. “You can’t even call it magic anymore…”

Kuroko cleared his throat. “Now for your clothes, I should be able to do a bit better…”

A wave of warm magic flowed over Kagami, brushing across his skin and hair. When he looked down again, he was wearing a beautifully fitted coat, far finer than any he could have stitched himself. The midnight fabric was offset by the snowy white shirt and cuffs. His cravat was held together by a ruby pin, and the buckles on his boots gleamed with the shine of newness. Kuroko looked intrigued.

“Interesting. You seem to amplify my magic when it’s used on you. Certainly I could not have achieved that by myself. We shall have to investigate it another time.”

Kagami didn’t hear him, too busy being amazed at the transformation. He sighed when he saw his hands though. Roughened with work and ash, they were clean, but still a contrast to the luxurious outfit. Kuroko noticed and smiled.

“And for the final touch…” Another set of runes appeared over Kagami’s hands. When the magic died away, a pair of ruby-red gloves, made of dove-soft leather and fitted perfectly to every finger, graced Kagami.

“A fine job, if I say so myself. I made that from elven leather, so take care of those.” Kuroko seemed very pleased with himself.

Kagami eyed the black and white pony with suspicion. “I still don’t want to ride that thing. It was a dog, no matter what you did to it.” His case was justified when the animal gave him a friendly lick to the face.

“Just give in, Kagami. You’ll be fine. Although..” Kuroko frowned at his malfunctioning wand. “This wand is a bit old, so I wouldn’t trust the magic to last long. You should endeavour to get home by midnight, it will wear off by then.”

The other boy rolled his eyes. “Just my luck, getting stuck with the one guardian fairy that’s low on magic. Might as well make the most of what I have then.” He pulled himself up onto the prancing horse and paused. “Hey, Kuroko?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for everything. Even if it doesn’t last long.”

Kuroko smiled, blue irises lighting up. “No problem. Enjoy yourself.”

And so, Kagami set off to the castle, finally one step closer to achieving his dream.

XXX

Prince Kise, seventeenth in a long line of illustrious monarchs, blew his hair out of his eyes in sheer boredom. Balls were all well and good, but this one was especially mind-numbing because it consisted of a long line of fawning men trying desperately to impress his sister. He glanced from the latest strutting suitor when someone nudged him.

The captain of his guard raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “Shouldn’t you be greeting the guests, your highness?” Kasamatsu always was a stickler for propriety.

He waved a careless hand. “It’s fine. They’re not here to see me, and Momoi has them dancing in the palm of her hand anyway. I’m just waiting for the waltz to start so I can get some fresh air.” It made a nice change to not be the centre of attention for once.

He didn’t miss the longing glance Kasamatsu directed at the princess, who was smiling beatifically at some rogue in blue. He cleared his throat as a distraction. “So when are we setting off to Fairnesse again?”

The captain snapped back to attention, intense gaze back. “Next week. The Sea Dancer will be fully repaired and restocked by then. Are you sure about the destination though? It seems a bit…risky.”

Kise’s eyes turned into pools of fiery gold, sharpening with anticipation. “You know me, Kasamatsu. A princess in a tower, guarded by a dragon? I can’t pass up a challenge like that. Besides, I’ve heard that Fairnesse has skilled duelists. Who knows what I may be able to learn…”

The prince trailed off as his gaze was caught by the new arrival. A young man about his age, tall and well-built with auburn hair, stumbled in through the French windows leading to the ballroom. The bewildered guest’s eyes widened as he took in the magnificence of the hall, candlelight glittering off crystal chandeliers and champagne flutes. He was stylishly dressed, Kise noted, but seemed strangely out-of-place.

Kasamatsu was also watching the red-head closely, but with suspicion rather than curiosity. They both had something of a shock when the young man in the black coat strode over to them.

“Excuse me,” he started hesitantly, “would you happen to know where the crown prince is?”

Kise gave Kasamatsu a sharp glance before the latter could slide his dagger from his sleeve. “I might. Can I ask why you are searching for the prince?”

The intriguing visitor flushed a charming shade of pink before explaining. “I err- I heard he’s looking for people to join his crew. I was hoping he’d let me prove my worth in a duel so I could join him on his journeys.”

Kise was instantly fascinated by this stranger. Someone who boldly set out in search of him, at a ball for the princess’ hand. It was bound to be interesting. “I could introduce you, but first things first. This is Kasamatsu, captain of the guard. If you can defeat him in a fair fight, I’ll consider letting you meet the prince.”

Kagami hesitated for a second longer and then nodded. The three of them made their way to a secluded corner of the garden, where Kise drew out his sword and handed it to Kagami, who warily tested the balance.

“Begin.”

A short while later, Kasamatsu was panting heavily on the floor, disarmed, and Kise was practically vibrating with excitement. He stepped in front of a slightly breathless Kagami.

“I’ve never seen someone like you. I need to know if I can mimic your moves. Have a match with me.”

Kagami frowned. “Look here, I thought you said-“

“Your highness! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A footman came running up, looking frazzled. “The king wants you to lead the first dance, as is custom. Please return to the ballroom, it is about to begin.”

Kise sighed and sheathed his saber. “Fine. I’ll be there shortly. Has my sister chosen her partner yet?”

“Yes, my lord. They are waiting for you now.”

Kagami tried to process the revelation of Kise’s identity and failed miserably. He had been babbling away and the prince had been right in front of him. All the clues had been right there. The air of unwavering confidence, the sharp perfection of his features, the famed topaz eyes. He’d been such an idiot. Kagami stiffened when Kise turned to regard him.

“I will have to ask you to wait a while. As promised, you will have an audience with the prince.” Kise’s wicked, knowing smile made his heart thump in surprise.

“Ahh, yes- I mean, your highness- of course, I’ll wait,” Kagami finished lamely. Kise’s smile widened and he sauntered away. Kasamatsu’s jaw was clenched, but he jerked his head at Kagami to follow and made his way to the ballroom.

Once inside, the captain began describing in curt detail the crew of the Sea Dancer. When he began talking about the talented navigator who had a taste for seal puns, Kagami thought it was high time he asked a vital question.

“Wait,” he interrupted, “why are you telling me this?”

Kasamatsu’s eyebrow lifted. “Because I strongly suspect you’ll be part of the crew soon. I know the prince well enough to tell.”

Before Kagami could wrap his mind around this news, Kise finished the dance with a graceful flourish and spotted the two of them standing by the door. He walked over with a pink-haired girl in arm, who, Kagami realized in the nick of time, was the princess. Princess Momoi bestowed him with a smile as brilliant as her tiara as he bowed awkwardly.

Kagami looked up to see the prince regarding him with a searing intensity that was at odds with the blonde’s customary easy friendliness. His heart beat faster in response. Kise spoke, his mask of geniality back in place.

“I’m sorry I had to cut our conversation short. But as promised, here I am to give you an audience. So, did you say you wanted to join my crew?”

Kagami stammered, words tumbling over themselves in a rush. “Y-yes! I can duel, but also cook, and stitch- I make a good roast – and if you’d just let me join, I’ll show you I can be useful! Your highness!”

Kise’s answering laugh was infectiously boyish. “That’s great then! We need someone in the galley anyway. And Kise is fine. Only stiff ol’ Kasu here calls me by anything else.”

Momoi rolled her eyes. “That’s because you only look like a prince. We all know you don’t act like one.”

Kagami gulped, hardly able to believe his dreams were coming true. “Then, K-Kise, thank you. I’ll never forget your kindness, I promise.”

The heir to the throne grinned, as dazzling as his sister. “Then let’s shake on it. Though I must say, I don’t know many nobles like you that can cook.”

Kagami automatically grasped Kise’s outstretched hand, mind racing over a plausible explanation. “I- err-“

He was saved from having to reply when a distant clock began its inevitable chime, marking the end of the day. Kagami belatedly remembered he had somewhere else to be.

“Oh shoot, I have to go! I’m sorry, your highness, but I’ll see you later!” Kagami pivoted to run out of the castle.

Kise, in his surprise, gripped harder, instinctually preventing the escape. “But I don’t-“

Kagami, thrown into a complete panic, wrenched his hand out of Kise’s grip and sprinted out of the front doors into the night. The two royals and the captain watched him go with baffled expressions.

Momoi was the first to speak. “Well, I certainly hope my suitors never react that way to a handshake.”

Kasamatsu shook himself out of his daze. “Should I go after him, my prince?”

Kise wasn’t listening, gazing thoughtfully at the elegant red glove in his hand. It was still held lingering traces of Kagami’s warmth. Warm, like his passionate eyes and fiery hair.

“He never told me his name.”

XXX

Two days later, Kagami discovered that he hadn’t hidden his tracks as well as he’d thought. He walked into the kitchen and stopped abruptly when he saw Akashi’s back to him. Akashi turned around holding up a red glove, face unreadable. Kagami dropped the basket of laundry he had been carrying.

“How did you-“

“I don’t why you thought you could hide anything from me, Kagami. Especially after you made no effort to disguise yourself. It was obvious the person the prince was searching for was you.”

Kagami had two revelations at that moment. One, the prince was looking for him. And two, this was why he hadn’t had a spare minute since the ball. Akashi had deliberately been keeping him busy so he couldn’t leave. The anger fuelled him, gave him the strength to stand his ground.

“If you know about it, good. I’m done with this place. It may have been our family home, but there’s nothing left here for me anymore.”

Akashi’s lip curled in condescension. “I never said you could leave.” He flicked open a pocket-watch that shone with silver runes.

Kagami felt an abrupt, inexplicable weight pull on his limbs, dragging him to the ground. He fell to his knees, eyes widening in shock at Akashi’s cold expression. The other red-head slowly advanced until they were eye to eye.

“The prince’s men will be arriving soon in search of the mysterious stranger from the party. They will be looking for you, but you won’t be anywhere you can be seen. And then we’ll see how you plan to defy me again.”

Kagami wanted to growl in frustration, but the pull of the magic was too strong, tugging on him till his head was bowed. He wanted to rail against the injustice, this inevitable downturn of his fate yet again, but Akashi had already left, locking the only door. He crumpled to the ground, unable to hold himself up, and wondered if he’d ever be free.

He could hear the crunch of gravel as horses cantered up the driveway. There was a distant murmur of voices, one soft, one curt. Kagami resigned himself to the painful irony as Akashi denied his very existence and his only opportunity to escape slipped through his fingers. The fire crackled as the beautiful glove burned to ashes. Of course, this was when Kuroko reappeared.

“Giving up already? I’m disappointed in you, Kagami.” Kuroko shook his head reproachfully.

Kagami couldn’t summon up enough surprise to care. He glared at the unhelpful fairy. Kuroko blinked in belated realisation.

“Ah, give me a moment, I can try to undo this binding. I have a new wand now.” A shiny spell-casting device materialized. Kuroko laid a hand on Kagami’s forehead and began to replicate the locking runes in reverse. Two minutes later, Kagami gasped as the weight on his body disappeared.

The fairy looked paler than he already was. “Even with your latent power, that was a strong spell to overcome. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to deal with the door yourself.”

Kagami rolled up his sleeves and prepared to break down the door. “You did enough, Kuroko. Thanks.”

He rammed the heavy oak door with his shoulder, a loud thud resounding through the house. Again, and again, he put his shoulder to the wood until the weak hinges began to give way. Finally, the metal pins came apart with a screech and he tumbled forward into a group of surprised people. He looked up into a pair of keen golden eyes.

“Y-your highness?”

Kise smiled cheerfully as Kasamatsu huffed in relief. “There you are! I thought you were never going to make it on time! We leave in a few days, you know.”

Kagami glanced warily behind the prince, where Akashi was crushing a scroll in his fingers. “I got held up.”

Kise also gave Akashi a considering look. “So I see. Hyuuga, what is the punishment for obstructing and deceiving the crown?”

The chief of law enforcement didn’t miss a beat. “Incarceration, at the very least.”

Kagami had never been happier than when his step-father was dragged off with a thunderous look on his face. When he had finished packing up what few belongings he had, he went off to find a certain magical being. Kuroko was hovering outside, preparing to leave.

“Hey,” began Kagami. “Thanks again for everything. You saved me back there.”

Kuroko turned serious blue eyes to him. “I’m your guardian after all. This is the least I should do.”

Kagami ruffled his spiky hair nervously. “Yeah. What I was going to say though, was, maybe you should be a permanent guardian.”

Kuroko blinked in non-comprehension. “What?”

Kagami exhaled, trying to find the right words. “If you’re stronger around me, then maybe we should stick together. If you don’t mind the occasional life-threatening adventure, that is.”

There was moment of silence as the fairy digested this. Then he nodded. “I’d like that. Us as a team.”

Kagami grinned, relieved. Kuroko smiled back. “I will see you later, Kagami. I believe someone is waiting for you.”

He vanished in a slightly more attention catching blaze of light. Kagami was left to ponder his abrupt disappearance when a familiar voice sounded.

“Here, you forgot something at the ball.” Kise held out a red glove. “Strangely, it wouldn’t fit anybody else.”

Kagami slid the leather over his left hand and smiled. “That’s because it’s special.” He looked up at Kise. “Shall we get going, your highness?”

The prince tilted his head arrogantly. “I should be asking you that. Are you sure you can handle what’s ahead? And it’s Kise to you.”

Kagami could do anything, now that there was a future with friends and a leader as reckless as he was to look forward to. “Bring it on, Kise.”

The world was a wide, wide place, after all.

#cinderella retelling #fairytale au #kagami as cinderella #kiseki no sedai #generation of miracles #hint of kagakise #background kasamatsu x momoi #humour #kise is a pirate prince lol #i was not in my right mind #not even a yaoi shipper but this happened #akashi is still my bae #kuroko is everyone's fairy godmother

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