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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

My Plus-One (Part 1)

EZ Reyes x Reader

Request by the lovely @ly--canthrope: The reader has a large ball/award ceremony/something fancy to attend. Her and Ez have been in each other's lives for years and they make a promise that each year, if there is an event to go to, they would go together. Its been a few years since this tradition has played out, and it is brought up in conversation (maybe talking about their plans for that week, what they are doing and busy with etc) and Ez goes, “I am busy, I am going with you to your event” and he is a pure gentlemen (You can decide thing like; are they bordering that blurred line where they are really affectionate with one another and time frame like, he could be at uni still and travels to go see her just for this event because its special to her)

Warnings: none. just some good old pining 🥺🥺

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I loved writing this so much wtf. I switched up the timing of it a little bit but I think it worked out well! I got a little carried away with it (hence the 3.4k lmao) but I just love EZ and I’m a sucker for friendships with feelings. Please enjoy! (requests are always open)

EZ Tag: @noz4a2 (if you wanna be added just shoot me a message!)

(Part 2)

You wandered around your small studio apartment, phone held loosely in your hand while you video-chatted with EZ. Both of you had long since given up on making sure that you held the camera at flattering angles. Besides, you were trying to make dinner and not even EZ could stop you from getting food.

“So glad I get to have this conversation with half of your face,” he laughed, shaking his head.

You held the phone up so you could get a better look at him—he was sitting at the table in his trailer, phone propped up as he typed away on his laptop. “This better?” you laughed as you tried to set it up on your counter so he could see more of your face.

“Much,” he smiled, “I miss you.”

You glanced over at him as you turned the stove on, “Miss you too, EZ.”

“So,” you could hear the clicking of his keyboard in the background, “what’re your plans for the week?”

“Meh, not a whole lot going on. I do, though, have a gala for work this Saturday.”

“Oh?” he raised his eyebrows, “Sounds fancy.”

You chuckled, nodding as you waited for your water to boil, “Yea, kinda. I was thinking,” you looked at him through the lens of your phone, “If you aren’t busy, and if you really miss me, you could maybe come and be my date. It’s all paid for and everything already. All you’d have to do is show up and be my arm-candy,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Ah, like the good old days.”

“C’mon, it’s been a while since one of us had to drag the other to an event that was way above our paygrade.”

“What’re you talking about? You just drove out to visit me last year for an event.”

You rolled your eyes, “Your patch-in party is not the same as a fundraising gala, Ezekiel. Although,” you laughed, “it was undoubtedly more fun than this is going to be.”

“Giving me the hard sell, Y/N,” he laughed and shook his head.

“If you’re too busy with club shit, I get it. I know I didn’t really give you much of a heads-up.”

“Well…” he dragged out the word, milking every letter for all it was worth, “I am gonna be busy.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I get it, I do. Sorry I always protcrastin—”

“Let me finish,” he smiled, “I’m gonna be busy with you, so I’ll let the guys know that my weekend is booked.”

You laughed, clapping your hands excitedly, “Yay! Oh, I can’t wait to see you. I feel like it’s been forever.”

“Because it has,” he waited for you to look back to your phone, “When was the last time you came back home to SanPa?”

You sighed, shaking your head, “God, like, six months maybe? Maybe a little more? Work has just been nuts, you know?”

“You think they’re gonna relocate you back closer to home any time soon?”

You shrugged, “Not sure. I hope so, though. I miss bugging you all the time in person not just by blowing up your phone.”

“Well, you’ll get to bug me in person all weekend. Text me your address and anything else I should know. I can probably come out Friday night if that works for you?”

You nodded, “Yea, that’s fine by me. You can crash here if you want but I gotta warn you, my place is wicked small.”

“I’m currently living in a trailer, Y/N,” he chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” your heart felt so much lighter knowing that he was going to be able to go with you—you hated going to these kinds of things by yourself, “I’ll text you all the details and stuff later this week.”

“Sounds good. Go back to making your gourmet ramen over there,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too, EZ,” you waved goodbye before hanging up the call. You let out a sigh of relief as you tucked your phone back into your pocket.

The week seemed to fly by. Any time that you felt yourself getting stressed, or overwhelmed, or homesick, you remembered that you were going to be able to spend the whole weekend with your best friend. It made the rest of your problems seem so insignificant. Every night you’d come home and you’d see your dress hanging against the door of your closet, begging to be worn. You’d smile and run your fingers along the fabric whenever you’d walk by it. Back when you were in high school and college, the two of you went to everything together. Each prom, award ceremony, induction ceremony, friends’ weddings, you name it, it was the two of you showing up together no matter what. You had your own unspoken language, knowing when the other was ready to tap out and call it a night. Sometimes to keep things interesting you’d try to sneak out unseen, other times one of you would come up with any excuse you could so that you could leave early without anyone giving you a hard time about it. It’d been a few years since either of you had an excuse to get dressed up together.

You were finishing cleaning up your apartment when you felt your phone going off in your pocket. You glanced down and smiled at the sigh of EZ’s name on the screen, “Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?”

“Yea. I think,” he chuckled, “I think I’m outside the right building? Everything looks the same here.”

You laughed as you walked over and peeked out your window. Sure enough, you saw him sitting, leaning against his bike, “I see you. I’ll be right down,” you hung up and made sure to close your closet door before heading downstairs to greet him.

You came barreling out the front door of your apartment building, tackling him in a hug. He laughed, sweeping you up off of your feet and swinging you around as he held you tight to him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to hold you for a few moments. It had been way too long since you last saw him in person.

“I’ve missed you,” you mumbled against his neck.

“I’ve missed you too.”

You finally let go, dropping your feet back to the ground. You helped EZ get his two bags and had him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You kept apologizing in advance for the fact that all you had was a studio, so there wasn’t going to be a lot of room, and there was no grand tour to give him. He smiled and shook his head, constantly telling you that he didn’t care.

You opened the door, dropping one of his bags next to the couch, “This is,” you chuckled, “my beautiful kingdom.”

EZ smiled as he looked around your apartment. It was a studio, so there wasn’t a whole lot of space, but it was all modern and renovated. He was impressed by how much you had managed to utilize the space. He also liked being able to see how you chose to decorate a space that was completely your own. The last time he got to visit you, you had been sharing an apartment with a roommate and the two of you had completely opposite tastes in décor. He liked the vibe you had created—a lot of bright, happy colors. He recognized some of the art on the walls as things you had commissioned your friends to make for you because you liked having things that were one-of-a-kind.

“This is a pretty great spot, Y/N.”

You smiled, “Thanks. It’s home for now,” you sighed, “I have no guest room to offer you, but the couch does pull out so you won’t be too crammed for the next couple nights.”

He chuckled, nodding, “I appreciate it.”

“You eat before you left?”

He nodded, “Yea I’m all set. Didn’t want to be taking any of your ramen from you.”

You gave him a playful slap to the arm, “So considerate.”

The two of you spent the night sitting on the couch together catching up, a show on the television just for background noise. It crept late into the night before the exhaustion started to show on EZ’s face. He had had a long day but he was enjoying the fact that he was actually face-to-face with you for the first time in months.

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” you smiled as you stood up off the couch, “If you’re up for it in the morning there’s a really good coffee spot a few blocks from here.”

He smiled, nodding, “Sounds good.”

“Bathroom is right through there if you wanna change. I’ll see you in the morning,” you leaned in and gave him a hug that you dragged out to last a little longer than you usually would, “Goodnight.”

The morning and afternoon flew right by, and before you knew it the two of you were getting ready for the gala. You chastised EZ for leaving his dress clothes in his bags for so long. All these years and he still hadn’t figured out that they needed to hang to cut down on wrinkles. You ironed out his slacks and shirt, impressed by the fact that he had also brought a suit jacket. It was an all-black ensemble that you knew would make your coworkers drool over him, and you were going to soak up every second of that.

You left the bathroom open for him to get changed as you retreated to the semi-privacy of the space that passed for your bedroom. You shimmied into your dress, pulling the straps up onto your shoulders. You zipped it up as much as you could without risking ripping any of the stitching, thankful that you had EZ to help you with it the rest of the way. You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled, still loving the dress as much as you had the day you tried it on in the store.

You had settled on a deep burgundy dress. It was a little low-cut, but not so much that you felt overly exposed. It was floor length, and had a slit up to just below your hip that you could only see once you started walking. You had picked up some simple jewelry—a few gold bangles and a long necklace that draped down your chest. Deciding to pull the whole look together with your favorite pair of black heels. A little height boost when you were walking with EZ never hurt.

“Hey, EZ? Can you come finish zipping me up?”

You heard the sounds of his dress shoes on the hardwood. He poked his head around the half-wall that separated your bed from the rest of your apartment. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you. He cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts in order as he remembered the actual reason you had called him over.

You pulled your hair off to the side and turned so your back was to him, thankful that it gave the added benefit of hiding the giant grin on your face. He tried to be as gentle as possible, the rough pads of his fingers grazing lightly against your back as he pulled the zipper up the last of the way.

“You look amazing, Y/N,” he smiled at you.

“Yea, we clean up alright, don’t we?” you patted his chest, practically salivating over the sight of him in dress clothes for the first time in years. You reached and undid the top button of his shirt, allowing a little bit of his collarbone to be exposed.

“Feeling a little risqué tonight?” he chuckled.

“Who knows when we’re going to get to do this again?” you smiled, “Might as well make the most of it.”

“I was gonna offer to take you on the bike,” he laughed as he looked you up and down for the hundredth time in two minutes, “But I don’t think that dress would make it.”

You nodded, “You’re right. We’ll take my car,” you walked over and grabbed the small clutch that you had picked up just for this occasion, pulling your keys out of it, “You ready?”

“I think so,” he patted his pockets down to make sure that he still had his phone and wallet, “You gonna give me the dirt on all your coworkers on the ride over?”

“Of course,” you smiled as you ushered him out the door, locking it behind the two of you.

You parked the car at the venue and EZ all but leapt out of the car to come and open your door for you. You chuckled as he held his hand out to help you step out onto the pavement. He hadn’t even wanted you to be the one to drive there, but you insisted since he knew nothing about the area.

He gently wrapped his arm around your waist as the two of you walked into the venue. You knew that your coworkers weren’t expecting you to show up with a plus-one. You had been quite clear about the fact that you weren’t dating anyone, and that no one at your job interested you enough to break your, “I don’t date coworkers” rule. There were quite a few lax jaws as the two of you strolled into the event room. Anyone else might have been nervous, but EZ saw how much you loved it and he was eating up every second of it.

You brought him around and introduced him to everyone, reveling in the fact that his arm never left your waist. After a handful of introductions, you dragged him across the room to introduce you to your boss.

“Cynthia,” you smiled wide, “This is my friend Ezekiel. Ezekiel, this is my boss Cynthia.”

“Please, call me Cindy,” she held out her hand, eyes slowly raking over the man you had put in front of her, not that you could blame her, “It’s nice to meet you, Ezekiel. I have to admit, Y/N here is a bit of an enigma around the office,” she turned her attention to you, “You look amazing, by the way.”

You smiled, “Thank you, so do you. A little more than business casual, huh?”

She laughed, nodding, “That’s for sure,” she paused, “Also, don’t forget, it’s open bar. So help yourselves.”

You tapped your fingers together mischievously, “Ah, don’t mind if I do.”

“I’ll make sure to catch up with you two later,” she smiled at EZ, “It was nice to meet you, Ezekiel.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he nodded politely before she walked away, swept up in a sea of other conversations.

“Remind me to keep a close eye on you around her,” you laughed, “Don’t want her snatching you up.”

The night wore on, and you were impressed with how easily EZ blended into the crowd with everyone from work. He made his way through a lot of small talk, a lot of, “So how do you know Y/N?” and other questions of the sort. The whole night he couldn’t help but to keep looking over at you, making sure that he had physical contact with you in one way or another. You couldn’t pretend that you minded it.

By your fourth glass of wine EZ had managed to get your keys from you, promising that he would drive the both of you back to your apartment safely and responsibly. His largest obstacle of the evening was hiding your bidding number sign from you so you didn’t spend money that you didn’t have.

“You’re the one who told me,” he said quietly in your ear, trying to suppress a laugh, “that your financial contribution was the, and I quote, buttload of money you paid for our tickets here.”

You huffed, trying and failing to give him a displeased expression, “But I wanna feel like a fancy rich person, EZ.”

He smiled at you, resting his hand on your thigh, “You’re certainly dressed like one, Y/N, so for tonight that’ll have to be enough. And besides, I’m your personal chauffer, so it doesn’t get more fancy rich person than that.”

You smirked over at him, placing your hand on top of his and interlocking your fingers, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”

He squeezed your fingers lightly, “Yea, me too.”

The evening was beginning to wind down, and EZ could see it on your face that if he didn’t get you out soon, you were going to start causing trouble. It was fine when the two of you were out among people you didn’t know, but he didn’t think that he’d be a very good friend if he let you start drunkenly stirring the pot with your coworkers. He convinced you to start saying your goodbyes, his hand placed on the small of your back as the two of you maneuvered through the small crowds of people in the event space.

You were walking through the parking garage, your hand entwined with his as you swung your arms back and forth, “What a night!”

EZ chuckled, spinning you carefully so you didn’t fall over, but still got to enjoy the flow of your dress when you spun and moved, “I’m honored I got the invite.”

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

He laughed, nodding, “I’m sure. Not like you could take over for me anyway.”

He helped you into the passenger seat before going around and getting in, sliding the seat back so he could actually fit. He chuckled as he saw you out of the corner of his eye, peeling your shoes off before you even left the parking garage. The whole drive home you went on and on about how much your coworkers loved him, you could just tell. He smiled and nodded, letting one hand stray and come to rest on your thigh.

He parked outside your apartment building and you looked over at him with your biggest puppy-dog eyes, “Ezekiel, I don’t wanna put my shoes back on. Will you carry me upstairs?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yes, but only because tonight you’re a fancy rich lady.”

“You’re so good to me. I love you,” you smiled over at him.

He felt his heart beating harder inside his chest, “I love you too.”

He carried you bridal style up the stairs with such ease. You loved every moment of it. He held onto you as you unlocked the door, still wrapped up in his arms. You giggled into his neck as he kicked the door shut behind you and turned the deadbolt. He carried you to your bed, setting you down gently. You smiled up at him from your mattress, reaching out and taking his hand in your own.

“I’ve missed you so much, EZ.”

He traced his thumb over your knuckles, “Yea, I’ve missed you too.”

Before he could walk out to collapse on the couch you asked him, “Can you help me with my dress?”

He swallowed hard, nodding, “Yea, of course, whatever you need.”

You pulled your hair off to the side again so he could pull the zipper down. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that there was a slight trembling to his hands as he fumbled with the zipper, pulling it down slowly. He took a deep breath as he gently pushed the straps down off your shoulders. You hummed in approval as you leaned back against him, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. There were a few beats of silence before you felt him lightly press his lips against the bare skin of your shoulder, gently kissing the soft skin there.

Your breath caught in your throat and it took you a second to get the words out, “You could, um,” you were thankful that you weren’t facing him so he couldn’t see the nervousness on your face, “you could stay in my bed tonight…if you wanted. It’s probably…you know…more comfortable than the couch.”

His lips were still pressed against your shoulder and you could feel his laughter vibrate against your skin, “Yea? You sure?”

You turned around so you were facing him. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. He was holding you close enough that you were certain that he could feel your heart palpitating, “Yea. I’m not ready to give up your company yet.”

He kissed your forehead, “Let’s get to bed then.”

#mayans mc #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc imagine #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes imagine #ez reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes fanfic #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc #request #ez request

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peach-the-owl · 3 years

Note

Maybe one with Kima and Allura? The reader is an artist and one day they start to leave little notes with sketches for them in random places where they can find them and it's just them being a good friend trying to make them smile during the day.

Aww, I love Kima and Allura so much, their relationship is just so precious 🥰 I hope this turned out well

Also might’ve let myself get carried away with the idea, it’s a bit long 😅

Little Notes

Allura & Kima & Artist!Reader (Platonic)

You were making your way over to Allura's for a visit knowing she had been stressing out over Kima being missing from her mission in Kraghammer and hoping to calm some of those nerves. You walk up to the doors of her tower and give a knock, after a small wait the door opens to reveal the arcanist herself.

"(Y/n)! It’s been awhile, how are you?" She asks slightly surprised by your sudden appearance.

"Hello Allura, sorry about not informing you of my arrival." You sheepishly scratch at the back of your head in apology. "Do you mind if I come in? If not I can just-"

"No no, it’s alright." She stops you and steps out of the way for you to enter the tower. You welcome yourself in and go to sit in your usual spot whenever you’d visit. "I’m actually glad you decided to pop in, I’ve needed a distraction what with everything going on." Allura admits. At this point you pull out your sketchbook and pencil you always carry with you and start to add some fine line work to a piece you’d been working on for weeks now, never seeming to get it quite right.

"I know you’ve been stressing over this, which is exactly why I wanted to come over. So why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been up to recently." You suggest, not looking away from your drawing. You knew this wouldn’t bother Allura because for the years you've known each other, while it looked like you weren’t paying attention to the conversation you actually were, listening very carefully to every word being spoken to you. Allura went on to tell you about her work with the council and some of the worries she has for Kima, you adding in your own thoughts to the conversation every now and again. She then told you about her allies, the adventuring group known as Vox Machina that she asked to help find Kima, you knew about this group and what they did for the royal family but didn’t know them as personally as Allura did.

"I just hope nothing terrible has happened." Allura finally concludes after her long rant. You give an amused hum and sigh, taking proper notice that you’d wandered away from your project and had several random doodles covering the page. However instead of hindering you this placed a wonderful idea into your head.

"Relax Ally, if these people are as capable as you say then they’ll find Kima in no time. Just relax and breath, alright." You look up at her this time seeing her nod and take a few deep breaths. While she was distracted with that you carefully tear out some of the doodles, writing little messages of encouragement on the back of them and stand up. You sneakily slipping one of the notes between the cushion of the chair having it stick out just enough to be noticeable but not too obvious. "It’s been lovely, thank you for having me over but it’s getting late. I should really be making my way home."

"Allow me to walk you out." Allura offers which you happily accept, sneakily hiding the little drawings along the way in various places for Allura to hopefully find later. "I really appreciated the visit, helps to confide in a friend. You’re welcome back anytime." Allura gives you a quick hug that you return before the two of you part ways until next time.

It had been a while since your little visit and felt it only fair to check in and see how everything was going. When you arrive you’re relieved to see that Kima had returned in one piece, while Allura was occupied with thanking Vox Machina for their efforts you quietly shuffle over. You then watch as Kima and Allura share a small moment by staring at each other before they run into each other’s arms, you smile a little at this before deciding to quickly jump in.

"No it’s fine, just pretend I’m not here." You joke gaining everyone’s attention, you walk over to the two and without missing a beat Kima gives you a playful punch in the arm. "I swear to Bahamut Kima, you’re gonna break my arm one of these days." You slightly hiss from the pain.

"Nah if I meant to do that, it'd already be broken." Kima says slyly, you roll your eyes before properly hugging your friend, slipping a little note you’d made into her armour.

"Well now who’s this one?" The red Dragonborn asks. After some proper introductions with the group Allura invites everyone into her tower for tea, you hang back a second unsure if you should join them or just head home early.

"Don’t just stand there, the offer stands for you too." Allura gives a warm smile and ushers you inside.

"I know I just didn’t want to feel like I was overcrowding the place, plus I’m sure you’d like to catch up with Kima." You say meekly. You make your way up and automatically go to sit in your usual spot, pulling out your sketchbook as both a distraction and to continue on a commission for a client you’d received. Enjoying some tea and listening to the conversation between everyone else, Kima leans over your shoulder to look at your work.

"The hell is that supposed to be?" She asks quietly, staring at your drawing.

"Art." You reply cheekily. You catch her rolling her eyes at the corner of yours.

"I know what it is, but what is it?"

"The client asked for something abstract, so this is the result so far." You precede to erase and redraw a few of the lines you’d made until you felt satisfied.

"I don’t get it." You stifle a laugh, Kima didn’t really have an artistic eye but you appreciated that she at least tried to understand your craft whenever the two of you got to interact with each other.

"Shouldn’t you be involved in this conversation? Not to be rude or anything but it sounds important." You look up at Kima now to which she scratches at the back of her head, you can now see the blush on her cheeks.

"His questions were making me a little uncomfortable." She gestures over to the goliath, Grog. You give a reassuring pat her on the shoulder, sneaking another note into her armour before you realize something.

"Sorry to interrupt but what time is it?" After some fumbled reply’s Allura gives you her best estimation. "I have to go, I’ve got client to meet today and sooo much work to do. Thank you for the tea Allura, it was lovely to meet you all and thank you for safely bringing Kima back." You give a bit of a rushed goodbye as you gather up your things and hurry out of the tower, pausing briefly at the door to hide one more note for Allura to find later.

Time came and went, work piled up leaving you busy to no end, the only contact you had with your friends being the letters you’d write each other telling of what you’d been up to. However once the dragons came your world went crashing down, you had longed for a break away from all the work on your shoulders but not like this. Your home was in shambles, your hard work that took you months to complete destroyed in seconds, you considered yourself lucky to have made it out alive. Now you were but another refugee in Whitestone praying for a miracle while doodling in your sketchbook, the only thing that survived with you albeit slightly charred at the corners.

"Oh my gosh! You’re alive!" You hear a familiar voice call, looking over to see Kima run up to you. You give each other hug and once you let go Kima punches your arm.

"Every time I swear." You sigh with a small laugh, rubbing your arm.

"Gotta keep that arm strength up for your art stuff." Kima jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Anyways, do you know where Ally is?" You shake your head.

"I don’t, but I assume she’s alive, that woman’s a tough cookie." Kima nods in agreement.

"Would you like to help us?" Keyleth asks.

"Me? No I couldn’t, I’ve never really been the adventuring type, I much prefer swinging around a paintbrush over a sword." You politely decline the offer. "But I would like to advise one thing," you pat Kima's shoulder, once again slipping in a note you’d made into her armour in hopes of bringing encouragement. "Don’t do anything rash that could get you killed." Kima gives a quiet "yeah I know" and with that you watch the party continue on their way.

You did what you could with what little resources you had to build up and regain some normality to your life, starting a little side business of making motivational cards for anyone needing an extra pick me up. Folks seemed to really like it, each card having a personalized picture and message written on it, doing what you could to help keep hope alive in these trying times. When you met up with Kima and Allura again Allura was relived to see you were still alive and standing strong. They invited you over to the abode they were staying at together, which put a new idea into your head. Before you arrived for your visit with them you had made more of your little notes for them, this time making a few that you hoped would help spark the romance between the two you’ve seen since day one (secret wingman). When you arrived they gave you a quick tour of the place, leaving opportunities for you to slip the notes into various places around the house, making you wonder if this time they were doing it on purpose having finally caught on to your little gimmick. You all sat down and sipped away at some tea or coffee while talking about the actions going forward, as the evening came you bid your friends a goodnight and made your way back to your temporary living quarters…

More time flew by, the Chroma Conclave was since defeated and Emon was slowly rebuilding itself, a time of peace finally setting in and you had a lot of work ahead of you if you were ever going to be able to buildup your home from scratch. The only downside was you didn’t have the gold to pay for everything, your work as an artist didn’t always pay a lot but it was enough to keep you stable but having to pay to acquire materials for the house and art studio was another story entirely. Your then approached by two very familiar people.

"Allura! Kima! So good to see you both again. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write or visit often lately, been quite busy trying to re-establish myself." You greet your friends and notice the large bag Kima's carrying.

"It’s alright we’ve been rather busy ourselves with everything going on. We actually wished to talk with you." Allura gives you a gentle smile.

"Well I’d normally like to welcome you into my home, but as you can see it’s… not much of a home yet." You half-joke gesturing to the still ruined state of your house, the broken paintings you once had all having been stripped away when the Cinder King still ruled.

"That was actually one of the things we wished to speak with you about, Kima if you would." She turns to Kima who in turn hulls the bag over her shoulder letting it clatter to the ground, and you can hear the jangling of coin inside. "I believe this should help accommodate everything you need for your home and work." You stare jaw dropped at the bag filled to the brim with gold.

"I-This is very generous of you. I simply can’t just take your money." You say out of shock at the large gold pile in front of you.

"Think of it as payment for all you’ve done for us." Allura smiles and gives you an expectant look.

"All I’ve done? I haven’t really done anything to help."

"Sure you have, back when Kima was missing finding those papers with the little drawings and messages really helped keep me calm and cheer me up through all the stress." Allura explains.

"Yeah, or the ones you managed to slip into my armour. Little distracting at first but invigorating when I was in a tough spot in battle." Kima jumps in. You just smile, all you were doing was trying to be nice and encouraging to your friends unknowing of the effects it apparently lead to.

"Still, not all is from us." Allura suddenly cuts into your thoughts, you look at her confused. "That was the second thing we wanted to talk with you about. Some of this is a sort of upfront payment for a few commissions from our friends, half now to help you and half later once you've completed their requests."

"There’s more!?" You were almost lightheaded from the information, but shake it off and refocus yourself. "I’d love to, please fill me in on all the details."

"First off Keyleth asked for a landscape piece of her home in Zephrah, Keyleth will easily help bring you to and from her home whenever you’re ready. Next Percy wanted a portrait made for castle Whitestone, he said he’d fill in the rest of the details upon your arrival. Finally," Allura gives a bit of a sigh, "there’s Taryon… he wants a, and I quote, 'self portrait made with nothing but the finest oil paints you can get your hands on for the Slayer's Cake.'"

"So basically the plan is to visit Whitestone once my home's rebuilt. That should be fine, one question though, who’s Taryon?"

"Trust me, you’ll know who he is when you meet him."

"Sounds like quite the character." You say with a hint of nervousness. "Well if that’s everything, I should get to work. Thank you again for everything." You go to collect the heavy bag of gold only to pause when you hear Kima speak up.

"Ally did you still wanna… you know ask about the thing?" She had leaned closer to Allura to ask but you still heard her.

"What thing?" You question to which Allura perks up a bit in realization.

"I almost completely forgotten. Right, there was one more, very special request." You look at the two in silence, Allura walks up to you and takes one of your hands in hers. "(Y/n), Kima and I have a very important and special request of you." You just nod and wait for her to continue. "We were wondering if you could make us something special for… for our wedding." You stare wide eyed in awe.

"You two are getting married? That’s amazing! About time too." You cheer.

"Not so loud please, we just want a simple and private wedding you know, a few eye witnesses for the event. You don’t have to make anything grand, if anything we’d like what you make to be similar to the notes you’ve always left us." You press your hands together and hold back the urge to just scream to the heavens in happiness for them. When you manage to calm yourself enough you look back that the couple and give them a large smile.

"I’d be honoured to make something for your wedding." You give them both a hug and reset your sights on your shambled home. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a house to get built."

"Hold on, I still have one more thing for you." Kima interrupts this time. Before you can ask you feel a punch impact your arm, you suck back the pain as you rub the spot she hit. "Alright now your free to start." She gives you a smug look.

"Every. Single. Time." You playfully glare back. You had a long road ahead of you and you were certain it’d only be a matter of time before the peace is disturbed again but for now you wanted to focus on the present. Like you said, you had a lot of work to do.

#critical role #critical role & reader #vox machina #vox machina & reader #allura #allura vysoren #kima #kima of vord #allura x kima #allura & reader #kima & reader #npc appreciation month #nothing romantic here

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alkhale · 4 years

Text

Moving In (Art trade) Slight Bakugou/Oc

thank you so much again @keepcalmandjustships for the lovely fanart of Fuyu!!! I hope I did Arashi justice and you have a good read <333 let me know if there’s anything you want to change or if I messed up at all, I had fun writing something new with this!!

BNHA Drabble, BNHA OC.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Arashi half-stopped, one foot comically in the elevator doorway. Her mouth moved around the lollipop sticking out between her lips—a simple strawberry flavor she was using to bide her time until she could sneak one of her cigarettes into her waiting mouth. She hefted the cardboard box to under one arm, casually tucking a strand of wavy black hair behind her ear, dropping a finger down to thumb the choker around her neck for good luck.

Arashi swung around on her toe, turning with a sneaking grin toward the familiar voice. It made the little heart tattoo under her eye crinkle.

Oops, it’s Katsuki. Arashi waggled her brows at him, keeping her cocky little grin. Gotta be careful or I’m gonna get it.

Bakugou didn’t look the slightest bit amused, lips pulled back into a disgusted scowl as he surveyed her up and down, focusing specifically on the lollipop hanging between her lips and then the box in her hands.

“Moving,” Arashi said, fake sweet. “Are you here to help?”

Bakugou tipped his head back, lips pulling down further into a snarl. The jet black t-shirt and loose joggers made him a touch more intimidating than she was used to—Bakugou Katsuki in his uniform was an easy fix to mess with and stay a step ahead of if she tried—but this Bakugou, a little more normal, a little more… homey, was throwing her a bit for a loop.

This whole… cohabitation thing was something she was going to have to get used to.

And sneaky with.

Because hell knows what Aizawa will do if he catches me with my goods. Arashi tightened her grip on her cardboard box. This had felt like the best time to move them since Momo was taking a break from helping her arrange her room— “Oh, Sakamoto-chan, you look like you’re missing some things! Surely there must be more? Shall I help you make some? What do you need? A new comforter? Or perhaps some silk sheets for—” and the hallways and elevators had been clear of everyone else. Arashi moving one more box shouldn’t be suspicious.

But, of course, there was Bakugou. And Bakugou tended to make things just a little more dicey.Not that she couldn’t handle a little dicey. Arashi pointedly waited for him to continue, tapping her foot rhythmically against the little wooden floors. She wondered if there was something close to a studio she could practice her moves in private. So much has been going on… it’d be nice to hear some music and move the way I want too again.

“Around the school was one shitty thing,” Bakugou practically growled, Arashi bobbed her head, waiting for his point. “Didn’t give a fuck. If you want to ruin your shitty lungs, that’s your shitty ass mistake. Maybe they let you slide with shit like that in the General Course—”

“Oh, no, they definitely didn’t,” Arashi said, moving her lollipop to the side of her mouth. She held a finger up. “I’ve gotten into plenty of trouble for that. I don’t think Aizawa-sensei is gonna be any easier.”

And she was telling the truth about that. Shinsou had always been on her ass when it came to smoking… and the occasional beer or two she could badger off someone of legal age late night at a convenience store. He’d snapped one two many boxes of her cigarettes or had her emptying out her pockets with his Quirk.

Arashi sobered up a bit at the thought. Their… last argument hadn’t ended as well as she would’ve wanted it too. She knew Shinsou wanted the best for her… that he was happy she got what they were both aiming for—but where he thought she might be slacking off, she was always just waiting for him to meet her here too.

No one ever said only once of us really can make it here. Arashi bit harder onto her lollipop. Stupid Shinsou… let’s just make up already.

She missed their talks.

Right now though, Bakugou burned daggers into the side of her head. She beamed back at him, humming a little tune. Bakugou looked seconds closer to throttling her, but as she said, what was life without a little risks?

“If I catch you with one of those fucking little sticks in your mouth,” Bakugou threatened, pointing a callused finger her way. Arashi pretended to look affronted by his instigation. “I’ll snap that and then snap you.”

“Kacchan,” Arashi said sweetly, “do you have somethin’ against lollipops?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes into slits at her. The familiar smell of something sweet, something warm—like cooked caramel on a stove wafted through the air. Ah, he’s stifling his Quirk a bit. Hahaha, even Katsuki can be a little considerate.

Bakugou’s rough fingers snatched the corner of her loose black sweater, tugging her roughly toward him. Arashi stumbled, quickly setting a foot down for balance and swinging her eyes to him in surprise. The smell of burnt caramel increased, clinging to the corners of his shoulders and neck and Bakugou scowled down at her. Arashi blinked again in surprise, trying to keep her expression cool despite the close proximity. Yikes, what was that? Maybe smoking bothers him more than I thought—

“Move out of the way, dumbass.”

The elevator door dinged behind them. Arashi turned, realizing she’d been standing in its way. Oh.

Bakugou promptly tore the box out from under her arm. Arashi’s eyes bulged, whipping her head around. Her shadows licked up at her heels in response, a little miniature monster starting to take place, wagging a tail-like shape. “Hey! What gives? You can’t go rifling through my stuff without permission—”

“This shit reeks,” Bakugou snapped at her, turning his back. Arashi quickly tried to grab it from him but Bakugou shoved her aside with his foot, holding her back as she grabbed his slippered ankle. “I swear to fucking hell….”

“Aw, come on, Kacchan! You can’t expect me to quit cold turkey—”

“Take this shit seriously!” Bakugou shot back. Arashi paused for a second, looking like an idiot with her lollipop, shirt sliding off her shoulder as she held his ankle against her stomach. “You want to be a hero so fucking bad, you finally make it here, and you’re gonna throw it away for a little chase like this? Piss off.”

Arashi blinked again, unable to find the words to retort or snap back. A pleasant, happy little buzz was starting up in the pit of her stomach, unfurling out. Her friend’s words were always laced with malice and gasoline, ready to ignite—but if you were willing to take the time to strip aside the extra, the roughness, Bakugou’s words tended to be filled with something much more nicer than she’d ever known from anyone else.

Taking her stunned silence in stride, Bakugou ripped the top of the box open, plunging his hand in and fishing out the first object he found. His eyes narrowed in disgust, turning his head to look at—

Bakugou stared at the lacey black stockings. Arashi blinked innocently behind him.

He opened his mouth, frozen in a furious, angry snarl. Bakugou stared.

“Oh, Arashi-chan!” the elevator doors slid open behind them, revealing a beaming Ochako and a smiling Momo. “We were looking for you! Did you need help with—”

Momo and Ochako looked at Bakugou and Arashi. They blinked once at Bakugou’s foot holding Arashi’s stomach away, her hands on his ankle, and finally, Bakugou’s free hand holding a pair of black, lacy stockings—

Momo flushed bringing her hands to her mouth. Ochako did spit take, holding her stomach in laughter as Bakugou’s jaw tightened and an explosion rocketed off in his free hand.

“You—fucking dumbasses! This isn’t what it fucking looks like!”

“Bakugou-san,” Momo said, taken aback. “That is… that is severely lacking appropriateness…”

“Bakugou-kun, you’re too forward! Too forward!” Ochako slapped her knee. “W-What are you trying to do with—”

“I ain’t trying to do anything!” Bakugou snapped, shoving the box back into Arashi’s waiting arms. “If you’re going to carry this shit around, close the stupid box!”

“But you’re the one who opened it—”

“Shut up!” She blinked as he aggressively refolded her stockings and shoved them back inside, folding the top of the box too for good measure. Bakugou stuffed his hands into his pockets, storming off with his back hunched. “Dumbass… if you smell like shit when we run tomorrow, I’m blowing your ass to kingdom come!”

“I’ll take a good shower~” Arashi called after him, trying to keep her snicker from slipping past her lips as she moved her box back under her arm. “Thanks for the pep talk!”

“Shut up!”

“Sakamoto-chan, are you alright?” Momo said, touching a hand to her chest. Ochako was finally breathing through her giggles. “That must have been startling…”

“No, it’s fine,” Arashi waved a hand. “He could’ve opened up a box of my bras and I wouldn’t have cared. These are just my ballet tights.”

“You should care!”

“Kacchan just means well,” Arashi grinned, popping her lollipop out and sneaking past the two of them into the elevator. “I’ll go drop this off in my room—let’s meet up in the kitchen?”

“Yes! That sounds lovely,” Momo said. Ochako nodded, waving after her. Arashi grinned back at them, waggling her fingers as the door slid shut.

She waited a few moments, making sure the elevator was on its way up to her floor. Arashi sneakily undid one top of the box, moving her tights aside and grinning at the familiar set of cardboard cigarette boxes.

He’s got a good nose, what is he, a bloodhound? Arashi hummed to herself, pleased as she popped her lollipop back into her mouth. She’d try harder for their sake, but it didn’t mean she was going to give up the little pleasures in life.

Maybe this cohabitation thing wouldn’t be too bad after all.

#bnha oc #not my oc #arashi sakamoto #fic trade #art trade #so nervous writing someone else's character lolol #bnha #hope it was good ;-;#bakugou katsuki #momo yaoyorozu #shinsou hitoshi

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yandere-ac · 4 years

Note

Waited for anon 😎 May I request... literally anything for Marshal? I love the little guy 😫

Yandere Marshal X Reader

I really enjoyed writing this! Probably because I have Marshal and know him better than the other villagers I’ve written for. This one is much lighter than the last one. Also i made Marshal and Raymond best buds (because this is my blog and y’all can’t stop me)

Marshal thought of himself as out of the ordinary. His beautiful singing voice, his stunning looks, his amazing personality. Yup, as far as he was concerned, he was the ultimate package. Never had he really met a person who he thought was as amazing as him, sure there had been people who were close. But never quite there. One of those people was the grey cat whom he was currently drinking tea with.

“So, hows the house hunting going crisp?” Raymond had asked his shorter friend. Marshal was currently moving out of his previous village and was looking for a new home. “No, no I haven’t. It’s tough, but I can’t seem to find a lot of open villages as of late” He said, lifting up his teacup and gently placing it on his lips. “Oh? Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s moved onto islands now. All part of the Nook inc. getaway package” Raymond gave him a smile as he placed a hand onto the squirrels shoulder. This made Marshal perk up. “Huh? Island getaway? I heard old Nook was gonna start something new but I didn’t think he would do something like this...” This made the office cat laugh. “Well, it’s actually quite nice Crisp” now this, this really shocked Marshal. “Wait really? You? Living on an island?” Marshal asked in a tone that he hadn’t quite meant. “Pff, what’s so strange about that Marshy? I’m not THAT high maintenance you know”. Hmm, so Raymond was living on an island now. ”How come I’ve never heard of this move of yours?” Marshal looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. “You never asked” He simply stated as he took yet another sip of tea. “Well I’m asking now aren’t i? So tell me all about it?” The blonde critter had asked, moving in closer to his feline friend. Raymond let out a snort at Marshals eagerness. But nevertheless, he delivered.

And so, he told him about his island life, about the different residents, about the island activities, about the sunny days and about the rainy days, about the different friends he’d made, basically, he told Marshal about pretty much everything.

“And on Saturdays the one and only K.K. Slider visit us to have a small concert” By now, both of them had drunken up their tea. “What?! No way!” Marshal had said enthusiastically. Raymond let out a chuckle as he reassured him. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you about our island representative! Their name is Y/N, they are such a doll, honestly. One time I left my stuff at another residents place and the next day they delivered it to me. Their such a dear, I think you two would get along just swimmingly” he said as he clasped his hands together. “Hmm? How come?” Marshal asked, looking up at Raymond puzzled. “Well, you both like fashion, and it shows, that’s for sure. You both are quite the small charmers, uhhh- oh! You both have good singing voices” This made Marshal very interested. “Oh really? I’ll have to visit sometime” Suddenly, Raymond’s eyes lit up, as if he got an idea. “I know! Why don’t you move to the island?” He said proudly, grabbing a hold of Marshals shoulders. “What?” Marshal stated in confusion, he couldn’t just...move to an island, could he? “Think about it Marsh! If you moved to the island, I wouldn’t have to take such long trips just to see you in person! And I could introduce you to Y/N and we could become the best trio!” By now, Raymond was rambling. But Marshal was thinking about it. It would be nice with a hand of scenery, plus being able to live next to his best friend was always good. And hey, who knows? Maybe he could come closer to this Y/N person. They did certainly sound interesting.

A couple of days later, Isabelle was happy to announce that a new friend was moving onto the island. And that new friend was Marshal. The first to greet him as he stepped off the plane was of course Raymond, who helped him unpack and get ready as friends do. But soon enough as Raymond was showing Marshal around the island they had heard footsteps coming closer to them. Without warning, Raymond was tackled into a hug. “Raymond! I missed you!” Shouted the person clinging onto him. Both of them laughed as the other let go of him.

“Oh! Y/N! There’s someone I want you to meet” The cat said as he gestured to the smaller animal. Y/N smiled as they held out their hand with a playful smile on their lips. “Greetings! The names Y/N” Marshal took a hold of their hand and shook it, giving them a gentle smile. “Marshal” he simply stated. “So, you��re the new resident? It’s good to have you on the island!” Y/N said as they looked over at Raymond. “So, Raymond. I wanted to ask you if I could boro-“ by now all that they were saying had become an absolute blur in Marshals mind. Y/N...they...they were perfect. Never in his life had he seen someone quite like them. They were so elegant, yet, they looked so laid back. Their eyes shined like two sparkly diamonds. Their hair, it looked so soft, he just wanted to touch it, to feel how soft it would be. He wanted to feel their skin brace against his fur. He didn’t know what was up with him, but he wanted to feel more of this feeling.

“Marshal? Hello? Earth to Marshal? This is Raymond speaking” Marshals thoughts were interrupted by a grey paw waiving in front of his face, taking him back into reality. “O-Oh! Umm sorry, I uh got lost in my own little world there...” Y/N let out a laugh at this, making Marshals cheeks get ever redder than usual. Once Raymond noticed this he got a wide smirk started growing on his lips. “Oh! I just remembered! I really gotta go do something...important! Y/N, since your here could you show Marshal across the island?” Raymond said, scratching the back of his neck while giving a nervous smile. Marshal looked at him and glared slightly, that bastard! “Yeah sure! Id be happy to” Y/N said, turning to Marshal and giving him a reassuring smile. “Okay, thanks! Gotta go!” And so, Raymond dashed off, leaving Marshal alone with Y/N. “So, uh...shall we go?”

And so, Y/N showed Marshal around the island. They showed him the different stores, the plaza, the beaches, they even showed him all the residents houses. “Aaaaand over here we have my house! In all it’s glory!” They said and pointed towards their house. It was beautiful. And fully upgraded to. Marshal was in complete and utter awe. “It looks very nice Sulky” He said, seeing the smile form on their lips made him feel proud. “Thanks, actually most of the island constitutions are made by me!” Y/N said, this was Marshals opportunity. “Oh really? That explains why they look so good” as he said this, he flashed a toothy grin. This caught Y/N off guard and Marshal could see the small tint of pink brush their cheeks. “Heh, thanks”

After the island tour, Y/N and Marshal decided to hang out for a while. They talked about a lot of things, but mainly it was Marshal talking about himself. At one point, he had brought up his amazing singing voice. To which Y/N responded with interest. “Oh really? What’s your favorite song?” They had asked, tilting their head. “K.K. Swing, it’s so good. And you?” He had returned the question, keeping his voice and posture calm. But on the inside, he was shaking in anticipation. What was your favorite song? “Well, I guess it’s kinda cliche but I really like Bubblegum K.K., but I also love a lot of his other songs as well” Y/N answered, giving him a sheepish smile. Oh. My. God. Not only were you incredibly good looking, but you had great taste in music!

“Hey I have an idea! Why don’t you sing a little? Raymond told me you had a great singing voice so I’d love to hear it” He said. Please except, please except, pleASE EXCEPT-

“Ooo, id love to. But I’m kinda hoarse at the moment. But hey, once I’m feeling better, you’ll be the first person I’m gonna go to alright?” As Y/N said this, Marshal could feel his claws digging into his arm, his eye twitch slightly. Damn it! He screwed up! But before he could think of anything else he felt you grab a hold of his arms. “Hey, it’s getting a bit late and I’m gonna go home now, but let’s see each other later alright? Bye Marshal!” Y/N said as they ran off. Well, better luck next time. They’ll see, in a short time. He’d have them. He’s sure of it.

“You seem to really like them huh amigo?” A certain office cat told Marshal. By now it had been a couple of weeks since the move. Marshal had told Raymond about his feelings for Y/N. And now they were talking about it. “What can I say Ray, their just so amazing, everything about them makes me wanna scream at the top of my lungs!” Marshals tail started to wiggle slightly as the thought of you entered his mind. “I see, well i hate to break it to ya Marshy but your not the only one who seems to want that human” Raymond said, going into Marshals kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Marshals eyes went wide as he heard this, did...did Raymond? “Calm down, it’s not me. I’ve seen the way you look at her, I would never try to break that up. It’s really quite adorable to be frank. No, the person that seems to have the hots for our fellow island rep isn’t even someone that lives on the island” huh? What was this? Who would it be if it wasn’t a resident. “The name of the person is Jolly Redd. He’s been coming too our beach and has been selling fake art. But the thing is, for whatever reason he always give Y/N the real art, for free nonetheless. It was very strange until I realized that he was probably in love with them. But what do I know, it’s just a guess. But it might be worth considering since I heard he’s coming to the island tomorrow” Raymond picked up his coffee cup and sat down beside Marshal, handing him a second cup. “Hmm, weird tell me more” He had said intrigued yet also angered. How dare someone try to steal his Y/N away from him. Hearing this, Raymond furrowed his eyebrows slightly and gave an unsure look around. “Well...oh but i really shouldn’t tell you this...but here’s the thing-“

The next morning you were walking around the island, greeting different people when all of a sudden Marshal came running up to you. You assumed that he wanted to teach you a new reaction but to your dismay you saw that he had a look of worry on his face. “Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you about! A-and it’s pretty urgent” Marshal has said, grabbing a hold of your hand. “Oh? Can it wait just a second Marshal? I have to go visit Redd down by the-“ “NO!” You were quickly silenced by Marshals sudden outburst, an outburst even he seemed surprised of. “I mean...this is about...Redd...” now this, this made you stop dead in your tracks. “Huh? What about him?” You asked, wondering what this was about. What about Redd made this so urgent. “Well, do you know why Nook hated Redd so bad?” He had said, this made a bunch of bricks form in your stomach. You did know that Tom hated Redd but he never wanted to tell you why, to you, Redd had always seemed so nice. So you didn’t understand what the big deal was. “They used to be businesspartners. Not only that but they were also friends. Good friends. However, Redd would later show Tom what their friendship meant” Ge said in a sad yet serious tone. “What do you mean by that?” You said, feeling a knot in your throat. “Well, Redd scammed Tom out of all his bells and abandoned him” As he said this you felt a gasp leave your mouth. You thought you knew Redd. although you had to be honest with yourself, this didn’t sound to out of reach for him to do. You a had always been very uncertain about Redd and one thing that would make you upset is how he sold fake art to your fellow islanders. “I...I see. I was gonna visit him but...if he could do such a think to Tom when they were friends...maybe he will try to scam me as well” you said as you started to fidget with your hands. “I was gonna head over to Brewster if you’d like to come with? Maybe that would take Redd off your mind” Marshal offered.

And so the two of you went to Brewster. you were talking, well, it was mostly Marshal talking about himself and you listening but it was still a conversation. “Hey Marshal? I’m glad you told me about Redd. I don’t feel comfortable buying stock from him if he scammed Tom. I can’t support someone who would do that to my friend” You said as you took a sip from your coffee. “Oh, no worries sulky. I’m always happy to help” Marshal said with a happy and satisfied grin.

Little did you know that he was overjoyed at the moment. He had successfully made you break off your relationship with Redd. Now you could be his! He’d have to wait of course. But he is willing to do so. After all, if someone else tried to take you, he could always tell you what a horrible person they were. Yes, that’s how he’d do it. Only he could have you, he was the only one who deserved you. You had awoken something new in him. Because for the first time in his life, he felt like someone was equal to him. Maybe even better than him! Every time he saw you he felt so soft and happy. And he wanted to explore this feeling. He wanted to go on fancy dates with you, he wanted to sing with you, he wanted to hold hands with you, wake up next to you in the morning and the last face he saw before he went to sleep. He wanted to have you. Scratch that. He NEEDED to have you.

You were going to be his.

You had no say in this.

#yandere #yandere acnh #yandere animal crossing #animal crossing #Yandere Marshal #marshal acnh #X reader #tw yandere #tw obsessive behaviour #tw manipulation #raymond acnh #raymond and Marshal are Lipchap buddies :D

154 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Nova Ch 6

Ch 6: Eccentricity

AN: Loved some of the PatB shorts more than others (You know my eternal hatred for THAT one). But that’s a story for another day. I’m sticking to the 90s versions of these characters though. For now. I might have a gander at the reboot versions someday. You never know!

Ch 6 FFN Link

April 22, 2015! Narf! You’ll never guess what happened, Mickey Mouse. I met the Brain! Well, I’ve only known him for about four months, or less than two days, depending on how you wanna look at it, but if anything happened to him, I would make myself watch Shyamalan’s The Last Airbender!

Tomorrow, I’m going to the mall and buying a hat. Can’t root for Farfignetown (I have to ask her how she spells her name!) at the Derby without a super fancy hat!

Love,

Pinky.

PS: Tell Minnie I said hi!

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky stepped back to admire his handiwork, the tip of his blue glitter gel pen pressing under his chin as he leaned against it. He did his best to copy Brain’s messages, but he was probably gonna have to write only the first letters only in the future. He didn’t want to take up the entire calendar page again.

His ears twitched at a scraping sound behind him. The sparkly gel smeared against his fur as he turned around, leaving a blue streak across his chest. Egad, if he continued to cover himself in the stuff, he’d look just like one of the Blue Men!

Brain pushed a heavy textbook across the counter, finally stopping underneath a light panel on the ceiling. Then he flipped it open, climbed up, and began to read.

It wasn’t the same book he’d started reading after they’d shaken hands to seal their new friendship either.

“Whatcha reading, Brain?” Pinky asked, slinging the gel pen over his shoulder. “I thought you were reading about jeans! So, find anything good? I think I like the flare type best. Skinny jeans make me chafe.”

“I have no idea what you’re blathering about, Pinky,” Brain said, not looking up from the page he was on. His head shifted from side to side as he read on, and Pinky imagined a giant, fluffy marshmallow making the same movements.

His stomach growled, and a marshmallow dinner sounded heavenly. With cheese fondue and rainbow sprinkles and a light dollop of whipped cream on top…

Wait, no, no. The kitchen didn’t have Gruyere cheese! Processed American cheese wouldn’t provide that proper creamy texture at all.

What kind of host was he? Unable to serve proper cheese fondue to his alien guest?

Then Brain hopped off the book, growling to himself as he pushed up on the hard cover and the few pages he turned. The pages slid into place, but he wasn’t tall enough to get the cover to close the entire way.

“Do you need help, Brain?” Pinky asked. He dropped the gel pen and grasped the cover’s edge, but Brain smacked him sharply on the wrist, forcing Pinky to let go. Pinky flicked his wrist, and the sting quickly disappeared.

“Don’t patronize me! I can get it myself!” Brain snarled. He pushed on the cover again, and it rose a couple inches in the air, only to land against his fingertips. He growled and spread his feet, jumping as he pushed on the cover once more. This time, the cover slammed into the pages with a heavy thud. “Your sources of information are woefully lacking with your livable yet rudimentary conditions. Penumbra had a much better database, and it’s been dilapidated for a long time.”

Pinky had no idea what dilapidated was. Probably something to do with laps though.

“Oh, well if you need more reading material, I’ve got just the thing!” Pinky said, motioning for Brain to follow him over to a tiny side table where all the magazines were stacked. “Let’s see, we’ve got Vogue, National Geographic, Reader’s Digest…ah, here we are! This one’s my favorite out of all the Zoobooks! Lots of pretty horses to look at. Zort!”

Pinky thumbed through the magazine until he found his favorite page, which had gorgeous art of a white horse running on grassy hills. “This one’s my favorite,” he said as he pressed the magazine into Brain’s hands. Brain nearly went cross-eyed just trying to look at it, but he held out his hands and pushed the pages back until they weren’t so close to his face. “I named her Pharfignewton after Pharfignewton! Isn’t her mane just the flowiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Including or excluding your mind in that comparison?” Brain asked. He closed the magazine and set it on top of the stack. “Your choice of reading material is peculiar, but I suppose brushing up on this planet’s ecology wouldn’t hurt.”

Pinky grinned. “If you think those are good, remind me to show you David Attenborough’s work sometime! His documentaries are amazing!”

Brain tilted his head, his antennae bobbing with the motion. “You’ve mentioned someone named Pharfignewton multiple times. An acquaintance of yours?”

“She’s not a quail, Brain. She’s a horse, of course!” Pinky laughed at his little rhyme. “Oh right, I’ve never showed you pictures of her, have I? Where are my manners? Anyway, I left them in the cage. It’s right this way! Or left this way. I can never tell which.”

Pinky ran back to the cage and squeezed through the bars, Brain trailing behind at a much slower pace. As Pinky slid his right leg through the bars, he realized just how dirty the cage was. There was a small puddle by the water bottle, and straw was scattered all over the place. Crumbs littered the floor around the food bowl, and his wheel had a stain shaped like a pomegranate.

It just wouldn’t do at all!

“Sorry for the mess!” Pinky called to Brain, who was watching him curiously from outside the cage. “I didn’t know I’d be having a visitor today!”

But Brain didn’t seem to care about the mess. Instead, he prodded the locked cage door.

“Nicholas and Mr. Button, you’ve gotta wake up and help me clean!” Pinky said, shaking them frantically from where they were tucked into the straw. “Narf, you two were up talking late again, weren’t you?”

They were too asleep to respond though.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you sleep for now, but tomorrow I’ll be going over proper cagesitting behavior with both of you,” Pinky sighed. He carefully rolled up the photo of Pharfignewton he kept near the straw bed, hugging it close to his body as he slipped through the bars again.

“Pinky, those are inanimate objects,” Brain said, bending a paper clip until it was completely straight. He poked one of the sharp ends and winced. “They won’t respond to you.”

“They’re real life objects, Brain. They’re not animated,” Pinky said. “Whatcha doing with that paper clip?”

Brain pressed his ear against the cage door, carefully maneuvering the paper clip into the lock. It slipped a quarter of the way in before Brain yanked it out again, his eyes darting around the room as if something would swoop down on them.

When nothing happened, he went back to inserting the paper clip. “Nothing to disable here. There’s no alarm system on the door,” Brain said, turning to Pinky. “I thought you were squeezing through the bars to avoid triggering it.”

“I’ve never had an alarm before. Do you think I should get one?” Pinky asked. “Just so nobody tries to burger my wheel or water bottle? Hmm, what would a burger with those ingredients even taste like? Not very appetizing, probably.”

Brain only stared at him, the paper clip almost slipping from his hand in surprise. “Don’t tell me the only reason you haven’t used the door is because you can’t unlock it.”

Pinky nodded. “Okay. I won’t tell you the only reason I haven’t used the door is because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to unlock it.”

Shaking his head in dismay, Brain reinserted the bent paper clip until it was halfway in, then turned it clockwise (or was it counterclockwise? Pinky always got them mixed up).

“There,” he said, letting the door swing open. “Now you can enter and exit as you please like a civilized mos.”

“Egad, that’s brilliant!” Pinky stepped inside the cage, then back out. In and out again, and again, and he almost started dancing the Hokey Pokey, which would’ve been a whole lot of fun, but Brain still hadn’t seen Pharfignewton’s photo!

Now that was a real tongue twister there!

“This is Pharfignewton, Brain! Isn’t she pretty?” Pinky asked, pressing the photo into Brain’s hands.

The photo had been taken two weeks ago, when her owner had hired a professional to photograph Pharfignewton as she sprinted around the field. Pharfignewton had given Pinky her personal favorite, one that showed her hooves flying through the air and her gorgeous mane streaming in the sunlight. She was having the time of her life, and she couldn’t have picked a better photo to give him.

“There’s certainly an uncanny resemblance,” Brain admitted. “And the size discrepancy between you and her is incredibly blatant. Not to mention the species difference.”

Pinky crossed his arms. “Oh, don’t be so intolerant, Brain. She’s big cause she’s a horse, and I’m small cause I’m a mouse. But we make it work.”

Pharfignewton would be gone for the next two months, possibly more when she achieved the Triple Crown. It would be lonely, but he could manage.

“You mentioned she was far away when I interrogated you.” Brain set the photo down, smoothing out a corner though it didn’t have any wrinkles.

“She’s still on the road to the Derby, I think. Can’t really get in touch with her though. Phones are kinda tricky with hooves, you know.” Pinky said. “She’s wanted the Triple Crown her entire life. So that’s why I gotta make a giant hat and root for her when she races!”

“I don’t understand how a hat factors into all this,” Brain said.

“Zort! I dunno,” Pinky shrugged. “You can’t have a Derby without horses, hats, and My Old Kentucky Home. Otherwise it wouldn’t be much of a Derby then, would it?”

Brain folded his arms. “I’m currently debating if I should take your words at face value or not. Your customs make no sense whatsoever.”

Pinky thought they made perfect sense, and cents, and all of the five senses really, but his stomach growled and that thought was soon forgotten. Brain never had Earth food before, had he?

Definitely a job for a genetically altered Earth mouse to show him the ropes!

But first, Pinky had to clean the gel off his fur. It was starting to clump into spikes, and that wouldn’t do at all.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky rinsed himself in the sink, sticking out his tongue to lap up some of the cool water as it trickled out of the faucet. Thankfully, the gel hadn’t settled into his fur and was very easy to wash away. And flicking the water around the sink with his tail was loads of fun too!

Brain stayed on the outer rim, pulling on the stopper and handles by the sink out of curiosity. He edged closer to the stream of water, almost touching it with a gloved hand, but decided against it. But he wouldn’t stop staring at it either, like he’d never seen water in his life.

Maybe he hadn’t?

The moon was made of cheese and not water after all. Water would make the cheese all soggy and mushy and wash away the cheesy taste that made cheese so delicious.

“C’mon, Brain! Poit!” Pinky pushed his fingers together, trying to send a squirt of water up to Brain, though it missed his nose by a mile and landed on a small crumb on the slope of the sink instead. “The water’s just fine!”

“I’ll have to decline your offer, Pinky,” Brain said. “My information about water is rather lacking, and I’d rather not cover myself in a substance without knowing more.”

“I guess water would leave the moon cheese not very tasty to eat, huh?” Pinky asked. He braced himself and shot out of the tiny waterfall, and he was very glad for all the focus he’d put into leg exercises recently, because his running start was enough to get him over the rim on his first try. “Well, all you need to know is that water is wet, it splishy-splashes all over the place, and it’s fun to play Marco Polo in!”

Brain didn’t look convinced though. He removed one of his black gloves and touched a puddle, rubbing the water between his fingers curiously.

Pinky turned off the water, then dried himself off with a fluffy towel. He double checked his chest to make sure the gel was completely gone and patted down his fur.

“This way, Brain!” Pinky called, jumping off the counter and onto a spinny chair. The seat twirled around for a bit, making him slightly dizzy, but it was all in jolly good fun. Brain carefully climbed down, gripping the drawer handles and moving slowly. He slipped on the last handle and landed awkwardly on his right leg. He grimaced for a moment, his nose scrunching up rather adorably. “Blueberry bagels and cream cheese, here we come!”

“Your sustenance on Terra, I assume?” Brain asked. He followed Pinky through a corridor and into the kitchen, his large head turning every which way to take in all the sights of ACME Lab. Now that it was daytime, there were more colors than just shadowy blue. Pinky wondered if Brain would try to name the colors he saw. Pinky tried once, but there were just too many pretty colors streaming in from the window pane above.

“They aren’t consonants, Brain. They’re delicious and all, but they wouldn’t fit with the alphabet. A little bit of a mouthful, don’t you think? Poit!” Pinky climbed up the cherry-print towel hanging on the refrigerator door like he’d done a million times before. He braced himself against the fridge door, pressed his legs against the handle, and pushed with all his might, feeling that familiar strain of his stomach muscles.

The door opened with a satisfying pop. Breathing heavily, Pinky tumbled more than he climbed down the towel, landing on the cold floor of the refrigerator.

“S-surely there has to be a more e-efficient way to open a door than your method.” Brain’s teeth chattered together, his ears flattening to avoid the sudden chill. He took a few steps away from the open fridge, his arms folded in front of his chest. “Is it a-always this cold?”

“Oh, I haven’t even opened up the freezer! If you think this is cold, you’ll really feel like a mousesicle in there! But it’s worth it if you wanna get to the strawberry ice cream with the cute little mini spoons! Maybe some other time though. Right now, it’s important to get a daily serving of cheese!” Pinky exclaimed as he pushed two small tubs of cream cheese from a middle shelf. They each landed on the floor with a thud, and Pinky jumped down and retrieved them, closing the fridge door behind him with his foot.

Brain sighed in relief as soon as the door was closed, his arms dropping to his sides.

“They keep the blueberry bagels by the bagel warmer,” Pinky said as he led Brain out of the kitchen and into a room that had been marked with a yellow and black caution sign. The bagels were so delicious they even had to warn everyone to take caution! “Oh, now that’s a tongue twister. Blueberry bagels by the bagel warmer. Boobelly beige by the baguette warmer...oh, that’s a toughie. I’ll work on it.”

The bagel warmer was an oddly shaped toaster, with lots of wires and bulbs sticking out along the sides and top. It even had a conveyor belt running through it, but Pinky thought it made this toaster really unique among toasters. Why, he’d even been toasted in this toaster himself! Though it wasn’t as much fun as crispy pieces of bread made it seem. He just remembered a lot of smoke and electricity. And there’d been a lot of narf inside too.

Pinky set the tubs of cream cheese on the floor, then climbed up to the conveyor belt, which was propped on metallic cylinders.

“This is so much easier with two mice!” Pinky crowed. He peered down at Brain, who curiously poked at a red wire on the floor. “I don’t mind eating bagels by themselves, but there’s something about toasty bagels that just warms the heart!”

“If they’re truly that delectable, I suppose there’s no harm in trying it,” Brain replied.

“Did your file thingies say anything about Earth food?” Pinky asked. Because Brain sure didn’t seem to know much about tasty things.

Brain shook his head. “The Selenians didn’t bother with information about the lifestyles or cuisine of Terrans. It was irrelevant to their cause.”

Oh. Pinky tried to imagine being an alien who didn’t know anything about cheese, but came up blank. He’d eaten cheese and food pellets his entire life. He couldn’t imagine a world without them.

“Pinky, are you aware that machine is also apparently a gene splicer?” Brain asked, pointing to the letters along the side.

ACME GENE SPLICER AND BAGEL WARMER, it said.

“So it does. But the only things that go in are bagels and lab mice. Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone try to splice a pair of jeans. Oh, that reminds me!” Pinky snapped his fingers. How could he have forgotten something so very important? The silly machine was on the gene splicer setting! Pinky pressed a conveniently labeled button that said ‘press here for bagel warmer setting’. How nice of the scientists to label their stuff!

He was so glad he discovered that before sending the bagels through. The gene splicer setting would’ve made the bagels extra crispy, and while Pinky didn’t mind, extra crispy bagels were a taste one had to get used to first. Nope, it was better to start Brain off lightly!

“Can you please get two blueberry bagels from the bag, Brain?” Pinky pointed to a bottom cabinet where the bagels were kept, grinning at the new tongue twister he’d come with. Egad, he was good at this! “They’re the tan circles with a hole and blue specks in them! Kinda like a donut, except without the frosting and sprinkles. Zort, Brain! You’ve never eaten donuts, have you? Oh, I am definitely making a list of foods you need to try!”

Pinky hopped onto a tall table and neatly tore a paper towel off its roll, then laid it flat on the conveyor belt. Following Pinky’s instructions, Brain retrieved two bagels from the cabinet and passed them up to Pinky. Brain still seemed rather confused about the gene splicer and the bagel warmer being one and the same. Pinky carefully separated each bagel so that he had four half-bagels with the inside lying face-up and arranged them on the paper towel so they would all be nice and toasty.

Then Pinky realized he’d forgotten another thing. Namely, that he didn’t know how to turn the bagel warmer on.

He scratched his head.

That could be a real issue.

“Pinky, do you actually know how to work this machine?” Brain’s voice sounded oddly strained. Pinky turned around. Brain was hanging onto the side of the conveyor belt, his legs wrapped around one of the metal cylinders. He’d tried to climb up himself, but his arms were too short to get a proper grip, and if he leaned over anymore, he’d fall right on his chubby head.

Pinky reached over, grasping Brain’s wrists and trying to haul him up, only for Brain to be resistant to help. He wouldn’t budge, his wrists feeling oddly tense under Pinky’s hands. His pink eyes were wide and apprehensive, pointed ears flattening against his head.

“Brain?” Pinky said. “I’m just gonna haul you up. Could you relax a bit please? It’ll be much easier.”

Brain didn’t move for a second, searching Pinky’s eyes warily. Pinky just gave him an encouraging smile. Brain looked away, his brow furrowing, but some of the tension left his wrists.

Pinky pulled him onto the railing of the conveyor belt, Brain’s feet scrabbling in the air briefly before settling firmly on the metal.

“Thanks,” Brain muttered. He walked over to the various buttons and levers, examining each one curiously.

“You’re welcome, Brain!” Pinky brought one hand to his forehead in a salute, only to remember that Brain was an honest-to-goodness alien, and probably didn’t know that particular gesture. So Pinky tried to make the Vulcan salute instead, but it was kinda tricky with only four fingers instead of five.

“This is very intriguing,” Brain breathed, pressing his face against a small closed window that offered a look into the gears and wires within the bagel warmer. “Yes, pure lithium power source, proton accelerators, and automatic anti-inertia capabilities? The use of nanoplasmic charges leaves a lot to be desired of course, but to have the rest of these things in one machine at your fingertips…”

Pinky didn’t understand anything Brain just said, but the alien’s fingers were twitching in excitement, his nose smushed against the glass. It was the first genuine smile Pinky had seen from the alien since they first met, and Pinky thought it looked really good on him. Even nicer than the jumpsuit, which was already really fashionable. “If you figure out how to turn it on, that would be really great!” Pinky grinned. Brain pulled down on a nearby lever, and the conveyor belt began to move. “Egad, brilliant!”

“The lever was labeled, Pinky.” Brain waved him off, pointing to the word ‘on’ stenciled next to him. But his head tilted up and his chest puffed out too. He seemed to like that word a lot. “Wait, you figured out the machine was on the wrong setting, but you can’t turn it on?”

Pinky shrugged. “It’s not really my type, Brain.”

“Never mind,” Brain sighed, the tips of his ears turning as red as his nose. He turned back to the machine window. “I want to observe this process.”

“Me too!” Pinky exclaimed, and he hopped over to the window, smushing his nose against it just as the bagels were swept into the machine. Blue electricity sparked and jumped all around the metal structures inside, and the glass warmed beneath Pinky’s hands.

It was a beautiful sight, and Pinky licked his lips as the bagels crisped from the heat.

Beside him, Brain watched the electricity intently, murmuring a bunch of smart words Pinky didn’t understand, but definitely enjoying the show too.

Within several minutes, the bagels gained an extremely nice golden brown crisp, and the conveyor belt moved them out of the bagel warmer. Brain pulled the lever up and the conveyor belt stopped moving, the thrum of the machine beneath their feet slowly fading away.

They weaved around long, multicolored wires as they made their way to the other side, where the bagels awaited them.

“Troz! Looks positively dee-lish!” Pinky exclaimed, poking at one of the bagels. Firm and flaky, just how they were supposed to be. His mouth watered in anticipation.

“The scent alone is quite appealing,” Brain agreed, taking several sniffs of the bagels. “I’ve never smelled anything like this before.”

Pinky grinned at him. “Oh, just you wait, Brain! The real magic is just starting!”

Sliding down the cylinders, Pinky retrieved the two cream cheese tubs they’d left on the floor and passed them up to Brain one at a time. His lower leg strength had improved a lot in the past few months, and it was easy for him to hang on while he passed the tubs up.

“Show-off,” Brain grumbled as he took hold of the second tub.

Pinky just laughed as he fetched two plastic knives from a drawer and carted them back to Brain and the bagels.

“Here you go! Bon appetit!” Pinky said. He gave one of the plastic knives to Brain, who gingerly ran his finger across the toothed edge as he examined the flat, see-through handle. “Oh, be careful with those, Brain. You don’t wanna cut yourself.”

“Not to worry, Pinky,” Brain said. “We have knives on New Selene. But I’ve never seen one with this particular material before. And much duller too.”

Pinky peeled away the cover of a cream cheese tub, drooling over the gorgeous smooth white surface inside. Brain copied him with the other tub, pulling off the cover completely. The alien took off his gloves and sniffed the cream cheese a few times, swiping one fingertip through the cream cheese. Then he tasted it.

Brain’s eyes widened immediately, his antennae perking up. He licked cream cheese off his fingertip four more times before he realized Pinky was watching him. Brain ducked his head and fiddled with his sleeves.

“That was…even better than I anticipated,” Brain admitted, his voice full of wonder.

“Aw, you don’t have to be embarrassed if you like it, Brain. I’m glad you think so, cause blueberry bagels and cream cheese is my favorite. Well, so are food pellets. And marshmallows, especially the puffy kind. And smiley face lollipops and…poit! I have a lot of favorites, it’s so hard to choose just one! Zounds, mac n’cheese too! You really need to try mac’n cheese, Brain! That one’s definitely going on the list. Anyway, if you think the cream cheese alone is good, try this!”

Pinky dipped the knife into the cream cheese. Once he got a good coating, he spread it across the surface of the bagel, took the largest chomp of the combined food he could manage, then swallowed. It went down a little rough, but it was delicious all the same.

“Scrumptious!” Pinky exclaimed. “It’s like a party in your mouth!”

Brain copied his actions again, and while he preferred to rip off chunks of the bagel and slather cream cheese onto smaller pieces, his enjoyment of the food wasn’t any less than Pinky’s. He made some funny ‘mmm’ noises in the back of his throat, his eyes closed in bliss as he worked his way through the first half-bagel.

Pinky started on his second half, licking cream cheese off his lips. This was a nice way to spend the evening.

“Brain, you’re welcome to share my cage if you’d like,” Pinky offered. “Mi cage es tu cage, you know.”

“Are you sure, Pinky?” Brain swallowed, thumping his fist against his throat to make the bagel go down. “I know we’re in a mutual partnership, but I wouldn’t want to impose in your living space.”

“You’re not imposing,” Pinky said. “Besides, plenty of unmarried people share living spaces these days.”

Brain was silent. He continued spreading cream cheese across a small portion of bagel, even though it was completely slathered at this point.

“Snowball and I were in neighboring cages. Aisam had to be housed alone because of their inclination towards territorial aggression. We had separate quarters for the journey to Terra as well.” Brain nibbled on a corner of his bagel. “Point being, I’ve never shared a cage before.”

“Sharing is caring,” Pinky smiled, finishing the last of his bagel. “Besides, it’s one more new experience for both of us. Isn’t that just dandy? I just hope Mr. Button and Nicholas didn’t leave too much a mess.”

“Very well. But we’re moving that sponge bed I slept on last night into your cage. It was much less aggravating for my back than the usual fare,” Brain said. “So…thanks for that, Pinky.”

“You’re welcome, Brain,” Pinky replied, rubbing circles into his belly, his hunger satisfied.

Beside him, Brain seemed satisfied too. And there was nothing better in all the world than sharing blueberry bagels and cream cheese with a new alien friend.

AN: OK this one’s more of a breather chapter since the last 5 were like wham bam nonstop stuff for the characters. Sorry it took so long to get this one out. Next chapter will have Pinky finally getting his hat and Brain’s first mall excursion!

#pinky and the brain #patb nova #patb fanfiction

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter thirteen: a special skeleton

“i stand right next to a mountain, and i chop it down with the side of my hand!" -"voodoo child", jimi hendrix

Sam pressed the button on the other side of the tape recorder. She had filled the cassette full, and even though she hadn't really known all of the songs during the Cherry Suicides' set list, she knew that it would serve as a good example to send in to Aurora and eventually the label. The roar of the audience in front of her served as her work soundtrack, as she took the cassette out of its space and stuck it inside of the casing.

She held onto the casing as if it was about to get away from her, and she ducked back into the backstage area right as the four of them scurried back to their dressing room for the night. She hung there for a moment to make sure she had put her pen away in her purse and Zelda breezed past her with those big taped boots still on her feet.

“Good show tonight!” she exclaimed, even though the subdued applause behind them told a different story.

“I know, right?” Sam said with her arms out before either side of her. “You guys were so tight and so on top of it all!” They did a high five as Morgan and Minerva skipped past them.

“Look at them!” Zelda pointed after them. “Look at 'em skipping! I've never seen them skip!”

Sam clapped her hands and then she held up the cassette. “Where's Aurora, I gotta hand this to her—”

“I think she's down the hall here—” Zelda nodded up the corridor towards Anthrax's dressing room. “I saw her up there when I came back here.”

“Alright, I'll be right back.”

Sam bowed up the corridor towards that dressing room; she adjusted the strap on her purse with her free hand all the while. The door hung wide open and she heard Aurora's gentle laughter from the inside there. She leaned in to find her before Frank and Dan, both of whom were still cooling off after their set earlier that evening. Frank nodded in Sam's direction, and Aurora turned around for a look at her and her face lit up.

Sam showed her the cassette tape.

“You got it!” she exclaimed.

“Hit play the very second they took to the stage and filled the whole thing up,” Sam replied and she stepped inside there. “There were a handful of songs I wasn't familiar with so you'll have to help me out with the track names on the listing part.” She handed Aurora the tape and she looked over the white label on the inside there.

“That's okay! I'll listen through it and write them down for Jon and hopefully—just hopefully—we'll see the Cherry Suicides on record store shelves at some point.”

Sam turned her attention to Frank and Dan with their backs to the wall behind them, and Aurora followed suit.

“Man, they went kinda long tonight, didn't they?” Frank remarked.

“Long and kind of thrashy, too,” Dan added. “Think Chuck's boots might be doing something to Zelda a bit. Chuck's boots with Greg's duct tape.”

“Yeah, they did have more of an edge tonight, didn't they?” Aurora grinned at them.

“It's all the hanging out with all the metal boys they've been doing lately,” Sam pointed out. “Happens in art all the time.”

“Did either of you two girls see where Joey ran off to?” Dan asked them, and they both shook their heads; Sam had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and she hoped that Joey would keep his other promise and abstain from the booze. Dan hopped off of the shelf and he strode past them to the doorway; Sam then returned to Aurora and bowed her head a bit.

“By the way, I've been meaning to ask you this,” she started in a low voice, “do you and Emile have any other plans besides moving in together?”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I dunno. But do you care to share, though? We are best friends after all.”

Aurora squinted her eyes at her.

“We're not having kids,” she scoffed with a shake of her head. “No way I'm putting him through that, either. After the difficulty my parents had raising me with the North Korean threat looming over their heads most of their adult lives? No way.”

“You've got too much of a work ethic, anyway,” Sam pointed out. “There's no way a kid can interrupt you at this point in your life.”

“Right?” Aurora chuckled at that.

“You girls talkin' 'bout me?” Frank cracked.

“Not everything be about you, Frankie,” Sam retorted, and Aurora laughed at that. The rumble of a bass pounded through the wooden floor behind them; the pop of a snare drum followed.

“Sounds like Testament is about to take center stage next,” Aurora declared. There was that swirling riff once again, the one that Sam and Joey had heard in the venue before.

“Yeah, that's definitely them,” Sam remarked. “I'm part of their fan club after all. Let's go see them.”

“I have to listen to this, though,” Aurora halted her.

“Oh, yeah, that's right—”

Sam returned to the corridor, where Zelda had changed out of her top and into nothing more than that spattered sports bra. She flashed her an excited grin.

“The other boys are about to get on it next,” she said to Sam.

“It's a cherry sandwich!” she joked, and that brought a big bold laugh out of Zelda. Indeed, the kick drums started up in a steady metronome of a rhythm and the people out in the audience began clapping in sync with it. The two of them gathered by the edge of the curtain, from the same spot which Sam and Chuck had watched Anthrax earlier that evening.

Louie to their right, as he took his seat behind his kit: he flashed the two of them a pretty little wave and Sam returned the favor to him. Greg slung his bass over his shoulder, and Alex and Eric entered in from the other side of the stage. Chuck rounded out the quintet with his own handheld microphone.

“I see the dudes from Death Angel,” Zelda pointed out. Sam looked out to the sea of heads out in the audience.

“Where?”

“Right in front of us. I recognize Osegueda right there—you see him? Mr. Dread locks?”

Sam lowered her gaze to the man with the full head of fledgling dread locks right near the edge of the stage.

“Oh, yeah!”

“How ya doin', Boston!” Chuck declared into his microphone. “We are Testament—straight out of the Bay Area, California. Big ol' thank you to the Cherry Suicides—we love those girls, man. We've got some big shoes to fill after their set. This song is called 'Burnt Offerings'!”

“Oh, this song rules!” Zelda shouted, and Louie glanced over his shoulder with his tongue out at her. He hammered away at his drums, and Sam thought about what he had said to her the night before. He pounded away so hard at them that his kick drums made the floor shake and the snare sounded like a gunshot. Chuck leaned to the side a bit and let his hair fly about like a bullwhip. Greg did the same as his bass thundered forth, strong and powerful. Eric built an entire wall of sound with his guitar. But something was missing.

Chuck's voice seared through the room, with that big razor sharp snarl to it. Sam peered past Louie's drum kit and the back of Greg's head and she spotted Alex over his pedal board. She couldn't see what he was doing.

Several guys near the front of the stage stared on at Alex as he prepared for his solo. One frowned at him as he stepped forward. He strummed high up on the neck and set his foot on the pedal. Hardly any sound came out of his amp.

Sam's heart skipped a few beats at the lack of sound. He took a step closer to it, and feedback bled out from it rather than melodic notes.

“What's going on with Alex?” Zelda wondered aloud.

“I don't know,” Sam confessed. There was another noise out there.

“Are they booing him!” Zelda demanded.

It was a soft hum over the thunder of Greg's bass and Eric's rhythm, but Sam knew it from the second she heard it.

“They are!” she declared with her mouth agape. “They're booing him!”

They glanced at one another, stunned.

“I don't think we ever got booed,” Zelda confessed. “Always yelled at or told to get off the stage you stupid whores, but never booed.”

Alex stooped down to adjust a dial but it was useless. He kept on with the wall of feedback. He held still with his fingers on the fret board: Sam couldn't see him but he appeared to be making use of it. A long loud whine and a blare that sounded as though it came through a tube, and yet even with that, he managed to change the notes. A slow, painful drone.

“What's he doing?” she asked Zelda, who shook her head.

“He's doing a Hendrix!” Louie shouted over his shoulder, and his voice drowned out against the feedback.

“Huh?” Zelda leaned in closer to him.

“He's doing a Jimi Hendrix!” he repeated, that time with his eyes closed. Zelda returned to Sam.

“He's doing what Jimi Hendrix did! Using the feedback for a solo!”

But the tone sounded as though his guitar was dying in utter agony: the way in which he plucked and moved his hand about the guitar neck was something to counter it. An ugly noise and yet he made it oddly beautiful in a way. Sam thought back to that day in the hole in the wall, when he talked about watching Miles Davis on TV one time.

He was improvising.

And yet no one in the crowd seemed to like it. Alex finally shook his head and turned away to let Chuck sing some more. He had his back to the audience so Sam could see the look of frustration on his round face. It kept on going for the rest of Testament's set, such that he shook his head when he left the stage, and he seemed more withdrawn than usual afterwards.

All five of them were silent as the audience out on the floor; Sam and Zelda caught up with the five of them.

“What happened?” Sam asked them, concerned.

“Swings and roundabouts, I guess,” Chuck said with a shrug of his shoulders, and yet Sam could see the look of disappointment on his face. “Sometimes you have a bad night. We've been doing good lately, so that was—that was something.”

“Let's get back to the room, though,” Eric insisted as he picked up his guitar case; Alex stayed knelt down on the floor next to him. Sam then turned to Zelda.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked her.

“See you tomorrow,” Zelda replied with a twinkle in her eye and they threw their arms around each other. If nothing else, at least the Cherry Suicides were on their way into a new chapter of their career. But at the same time, Sam couldn't help but think about how the crowd sounded when she recorded them. Their reaction to the four girls on the stage was lukewarm at best: it just took a malfunction and a misfire for them to give Alex an unwonted bad reaction. As she walked with the five of them back to their little room, she thought back to Anthrax's set. That had a very minimal reaction as well.

Not just a bad night for the other quintet, but for the crowd as well.

They filed into the cool, welcoming room once again, and Sam returned to her spot on the bed in the far corner of the room. Alex had lingered behind them all the way back; when he came in last, he shut the door behind him and ran his fingers through that jet black hair. He was silent as he made his way over to the spot on the floor before the bathroom door.

“Jesus, that crowd fucking sucked,” Greg lamented.

“Yeah, they sure did,” Chuck agreed.

“I mean, they booed our lead guitarist!” Louie exclaimed as he plopped down on the edge of the bed. Meanwhile, Alex just sat there on the blow up mattress with his back to the wall and with an empty look on his face. He didn't look stern, but rather as if his mind was elsewhere. “And he did what he could, too. And they still got all up in arms about it.”

“Need anything, Alex?” Chuck offered him, and he shook his head.

“They couldn't be bothered by the girls, either,” Sam added. “And they were on fire tonight!”

“Oh, yeah, they were crazy tonight!” Eric exclaimed, but he kept his eye on Alex, who looked as though he had mentally checked out from everything. If only she could tell him that it wasn't his fault, she would. But he seemed uninterested in everything else that night that he lay down on the mattress and rolled over onto his side. He fell asleep within a matter of seconds, and then Greg lay in the opposite direction next to him.

Louie took the spot next to Sam and that time around, he lay flat on his back. Eric turned out the light and the darkness swept over the six of them. Even in the dim light, Sam made out the sight of Louie's eyes still wide open despite it being late at night.

“Are you feeling okay?” she whispered to him.

Louie sighed through his nose and then he rolled his head over the pillow for a better look at her. He gazed on at her through the darkness. Even shrouded in shadow, she could make out the anxious look on his face. Alex was long gone at that point, and Chuck and Eric had fallen asleep next to them; but he still looked nervous to her. He sighed through his nose again.

“Can you keep a secret?” he whispered back to her, and she swallowed.

“Yes,” she replied. “Especially if it's that dire.”

“It is.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

He sighed through his nose a third time.

“I had an affair,” he whispered, and Sam raised her eyebrows at him.

“What,” she sputtered, “do you mean, you had an affair? With Zelda?”

“No. I mean—Zelda was the affair.”

She gaped at him.

“Louie,” she breathed. He rolled his head back on top of the pillow so he gazed up at the ceiling overhead.

“I had a girlfriend before I met Zelda,” he explained, “—I even had a baby with her. But I never told Zelda about it when we were together. That's why I took a year off from Legacy, besides—living with Zelda. I had a baby—”

“But your heart was elsewhere,” she whispered back to him.

Louie pursed his lips and then he shook his head again: Sam could see he was disappointed in himself.

“Zelda was my release,” he continued. “I wasn't happy at home, and I told Eric and Zetro that I needed some time off to be with my daughter. But I wasn't happy. I met Zelda and all of a sudden, all bets were off.”

“Back up, you told Eric and Zetro that you were having a baby and they knew about Zelda, too?”

“They thought Zelda was the mother,” he clarified. “That's why they love her so much. They think she's that tough because she pushed a watermelon through a straw. No, she's just tough because she's a tough punk chick from Rhode Island. I've been living a lie this whole time.” He then returned to her. “But now I have someone to tell it to.”

Sam swallowed and she shifted her weight in her spot there next to him.

“Promise you won't tell anyone,” he whispered, and she nodded her head.

“I just have one question,” she started.

“What's that?”

“Does Zelda know?”

And he shook his head.

“Nope. Never told her about my baby or my baby mama, and I don't think it even crossed her mind for a second. At least, that's my assumption.”

He closed his eyes and brought his gaze back to the ceiling overhead. Sam fetched up a sigh and she lay there in silence for a second, unsure of what to believe. On one hand, it all made sense as to why Louie always seemed so distant to her. Add to this, he dropped this on her as if it was nothing. But then again, it raised more questions for her, in particular why didn't anyone ask Zelda about a kid one time before, or why no one questioned her behavior before. There were too many holes and too many layers to unravel, and Sam herself was too tired to even so much as consider any of it for herself.

She fell asleep right next to him once more.

The mysterious man in her dreams appeared above her that time, and that time, he drifted in closer to her body. He lay on top of her, and he ran his fingers down her chest. The streak in his hair was high and bright despite the darkness that surrounded them: his eyes seared right into her soul as he felt her up and all over her body. Her nipples tightened and her stomach sank inward. His tongue slithered out from his mouth, right onto her lips.

“You know you—” he whispered to her. “You know—”

“I don't,” she confessed back.

“Let's—” he insisted, and he held onto her hands and led the way. He slithered and writhed all about her body like that of a snake. He was cold and dark, like a thick jet black curl on the crown of a head. He was between her legs. His movement caused her chest to seize and her breathing to quicken. Right there. Right next to Louie and with the whole world watching.

And yet she felt nothing from him. Absolutely nothing.

Sam jarred herself awake. She still lay there next to Louie, who had rolled over onto his side, away from her. The man was gone: in fact, he never even touched her.

She let out a sigh of relief and she decided it would be best to find herself a cup of coffee and some breakfast, and then bring it back for the five of them.

Careful not to wake Louie or Greg, she climbed out of bed and slipped her shoes back onto her feet: her travel bag was still in the back of Dan's car. She ducked out of that cool hotel room and softly closed the door behind her. The marine layer hadn't come in overnight and thus she stood in a column of bright, slightly warm golden sunlight courtesy of the low apartment buildings across the street from there.

She adjusted the strap on her purse and began up towards the street corner, alone. She stood there for a second when she swore she heard someone call her name. She peered about the street for any signs of life, but then she glanced down the block and there was Anthrax and their little dumpy white van. She recognized Scott and Frank from all the way up the street; she held onto her purse and hurried down the sidewalk towards them with the morning sun at her back. With a quick glance about the place, she hurried towards them there at the curb; Frank held two cups of coffee in hand and he had a twinkle in his eye as if someone had just told him a dirty joke.

“Hey, there's our girl,” he proclaimed once she came within earshot.

Dan poked his head out from the back doors of the van right then.

“Hey, it's li'l Sam!” He then pointed up the street. “My car is parked right up the block here so if you want to get your things, you can just run up there and swipe them.”

“I'll probably be hitching a ride with you anyways,” she confessed. “I just got to hanging out with Testament because they needed to be hung out with.”

“Right?” Scott chuckled at that; he took a sip of his coffee and then nodded with his tongue out from his mouth like that of a dog. “Spectacular.”

“What, you got coffee and didn't get any for me?” Sam joked with him, complete with a false hurt look on her face.

“I'd give it to ya any time of the week, sweet heart,” he retorted to her, and Frank whistled at that.

“Damn!” Joey poked his head out from the back of the van alongside Dan.

“Hey, you!” Sam exclaimed.

“Hey, you!” he echoed her with a raise of his eyebrows. She made her way over to him, and Dan sank back behind him to give them a bit of privacy. Joey had a little twinkle in his eye, and the wet curls on his forehead only accentuated it.

“You were amazing last night!” she declared, and he flashed her that lopsided grin once again.

“You thought I did good last night?” He nodded at her. “With the feather headdress all about my head?” He gestured about the crown of his head.

“The feathers sealed the deal! And—” She leaned in closer to him. “—thank you for keeping your promise, too.” To which he shrugged.

“Just doin' what I do best,” he assured her. His brown eyes seemed a lot more clear than normal, which meant he had stayed away from the alcohol overnight.

“Speaking of Testament, what was going on with them last night?” Frank joined in out of the blue.

“Like what was going on with Alex's guitar?” Sam knew that the very mention of Alex would undo everything Joey had done for himself at that point, but she had to fill in for those five guys.

“Yeah.”

“I dunno. He seemed to be having some kind of technical trouble.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Joey bowing his head a bit, away from the conversation.

“But then he did that feedback thing and made good use of it,” Scott recalled. “That was genius, if you ask me. I wouldn't know what to do if it were me.”

“Me, neither.” Sam shook her head, and she adjusted the strap on her purse once more. “You guys know where I can get coffee and breakfast from around here?”

“We got our coffee from across the street,” Frank pointed to the cafe across the way. “But I haven't seen a donut shop for blocks, though. Maybe when we get going we'll find something.”

“'Cause I was thinking of getting coffee and breakfast for those guys when I got up earlier,” she confessed.

“Aw, that's sweet of you!”

“They had a rough night last night—I wanna do something nice for them.”

“Could at least get coffee,” Scott advised her. “'Cause we plan on leaving in about forty minutes so—better hustle.”

“Okay.” She then returned to Joey, who pursed his lips at the mere mention of them. He held the coffee cup close to his lips, but he never took a sip. She had to keep up the streak. The streak.

“Can I ask you something?” she began in a low voice to him, and he lifted his gaze to her without a turn of his head.

“Yeah.”

“I really liked those feathers,” she said.

“I do, too,” he replied, and that smirk returned much to her relief. “And to be honest, I think that's gonna be a regular thing—I really like singing that song, too.”

“Well, and they were kinda... hot, too,” she continued, to which Joey showed her a smirk. She thought about that dream she had had, and how she felt nothing as the mysterious man was on top of her and feeling up her entire body. But she was sincere when she said that, and she knew that there had to be something more between her and Joey from that point on.

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 4 years

Text

Smoke and Mirrors Chapter One

Smoke and Mirrors: a magician’s trick, the art of making an entity appear to be floating through the use of smoke and mirrors. In figurative speech, something which, once examined, is proven to be an illusion. Like the moon reflected on water, or a flower reflected in a mirror. Unable to be touched.

Description: Listless idol Jeon Jungkook has lost his creative spark. Something just feels...missing. And between jet-setting across the world and constantly evading public scandals, Jungkook’s life up until now has felt like a movie. One thing Jungkook can count on, however, is video games. Y/N has been gaming forever. And when a new VR game called Arcana is released, both Y/N and Jungkook are all over it. But what will become of Jungkook’s online persona when life forces the two to work together? And will Jungkook manage to keep his identity a secret from one of his closest Internet friends?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (gender unspecified) Reader

Word Count: 12.1k

Tags: Solo Idol!Jungkook, Gamer!Jungkook, Makeup Artist!Reader, Manager!Seokjin, Florist!Hoseok

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Haha....ha....ha....um, well this is awkward isn’t it? I haven’t been active on here in a long, long time! But God does it feel nice to return. In the time I’ve been away, I’ve been working on a lot of things at once. Too many chefs in the kitchen, except the chefs are projects/responsibilities and the kitchen is me and is also on fire. I think right now more than ever, I’ve leaned into writing to help me feel a bit better about the world. So if this story can make you happy that’s honestly all I can ask for. I don’t think I’ll be keeping a posting schedule, as that feels like too much for me right now, but maybe in the future I’ll come up with a schedule that doesn’t feel overwhelming! Regardless, I’ve missed you guys and I’ve really missed posting my writing here. I hope you all still remember me! And I hope you enjoy this story. Really. As always, please feel free to send me any thoughts or concerns! Questions, critique, comments: send them all my way! I can’t wait to get chatting with you all again.

And I’m on Twitter! I’ll put the link here if you want to follow. I’m very active over there!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

“On God, if you don’t start healing me-!”

“I’m working on it! Christ.”

“Well work harder, damn. Tiki’s about to go down,” you say, gritting your teeth as you whip around toward the dragon staring your party down.

It circles you, never once looking away, several stories tall with glowing yellow eyes that seem to leave trails behind in the darkness of the cavern. You feel at once impossibly small and impossibly fragile in front of such a behemoth, all purple scales and saliva stringing across pointed fangs.

“Just focus on offense for now,” says Sapphire, grunting as he lunges sword-first toward the dragon.

Your brows shoot sky high as Sapphire, a DPS like you, runs straight for the enemy. His silver knight’s armor clanks in his wake. “Wait!” you call, but it’s too late. Your teammate has his sword plunging in and slicing out and slashing wild before you can even prep your next spell. “Jesus, Saph!”

You hear his laughter like bells echo through the cavern, seeming to bounce against the domed ceiling and drip like water from the clinging stalactites. “Tiki! Distract!” you call as the dragon whips wildly: first toward Sapphire and then toward you. “Shit,” you whisper, examining your mana with a hiss. “I need a second to recover!”

Tiki, a massive green orc and also your team’s tank, rushes in with his battle axe. Upon the first hit, the dragon writhes in pain and turns toward Tiki, ire in its yellow eyes. Tiki says nothing, just lets out a string of labored breaths as he swings his heavy weapon. Sapphire is quick to attack at the dragon’s heels. The dragon opens its mouth to spew flames across the charred cavern, aiming right for Tiki, but before it can Zero finally heals him with a flash of white light and a bolt straight to his broad green chest. You jump, turn to the side to see Zero is standing beside you about twenty feet from the dragon.

“Get spelling, Nova!” he shouts, long blonde hair flying in the breeze his spell created.

His voice, deep and gruff, doesn’t suit his pretty, dark-skinned elven body: particularly the well-rendered female…curvature. Every time he talks, it takes you off guard. You shake it off and nod once.

“Loli! Get punching!” you call to your resident monk as she idles near the dragon’s tail. She says nothing. You sigh, rest a hand on your hip. “Loli!”

She jumps to attention. “Sorry! My roommate needed me,” she says with a laugh, rubbing the back of her half-shaven head.

“Tell her to piss off!” calls Tiki as the dragon, halted by Zero’s healing spell, recovers and swings a mighty paw his way.

Your mana is finally restored and, shutting your eyes, you summon a bolt of ice. With a shout, you spin your staff over your head before slamming it down with a thunderous clap. Ice splinters dizzyingly fast from the ground beneath your staff and crawls like frost until it hits the dragon, stunning it still for a few seconds.

“Health’s low! Saph, go for the kill!” Lolita shouts as she lands a solid punch on the dragon’s belly that shatters your freezing spell.

Without waiting a second more, Sapphire shoves his sword into the dragon’s heaving chest as it writhes from pain. It looses a cry that sends vibrations through the cavern. A few rocks tumble from fissures in the cave walls, and a stalactite cracks and careens toward the ground where it explodes into shards.

And, with that, the massive beast falls to its stomach, its head clunking to the ground in front of Tiki’s feet. The ensuing silence rings in your ears as the five of you stand completely still, waiting. It wouldn’t be the first time an enemy has fallen only to reveal a dormant ability that results in a second battle. None of you says a thing until the massive body before you begins to dissolve into pixels, leaving you with only the skull as a prize and a bag of loot in place of a carcass.

Lolita is the first to break the silence with a loud hoot. “Wooh! Hell yeah!” she shouts, clapping her hands.

You chuckle, lean on your staff. “Loli, you can only celebrate halfway since you missed half the fight,” you tease with a fond sigh.

She rushes toward you, wipes off her blue robes and crosses her arms. “My roommate came in!”

“And you didn’t warn us,” Zero chides as he smooths a few flyaway hairs, smiling. That model of his is just too pretty…

“I-,”

“Guys!” Sapphire shouts, jumping once as he examines the loot bag. “Look at this!”

You spin your staff in your hand and jog to stand beside the knight. His red eyes are bright, digging through the bag until he produces in one gloved hand—

“Is that a Philosopher’s Stone Fragment?” asks Tiki, similarly enraptured as he comes up beside Sapphire’s flank.

Sapphire nods. “Which means—,”

“Which means we’re one step closer,” you say, and you lock eager eyes with Sapphire who only nods. “Well shit!”

“Also means we were right to come this way,” Lolita says, holding up one finger as if correcting us. “And whose idea was that?”

Zero shoves Lolita by the head and turns back toward the loot bag. “Anything else?” he asks.

Sapphire digs around before shrugging. “A shield,” he says.

“Don’t need it,” Tiki says.

“And…mm…,” he pauses, brow furrowing as he pulls out a piece of paper. He purses his lips, runs a hand through his blue-black hair, cocks his head to the side. “Schematic?”

“For what?”

“Oh!” he exclaims, turning to you as he hands you the paper. You look it over and scoff. “Superior elemental staff.”

“Cuts down the mana I need to do spells,” you say, rolling your eyes as you pocket the paper. “Coulda used that today.”

Sapphire claps your shoulder. “Next time! We’ve still got three fragments to find before anyone else does.”

You nod. “Well, with that settled…,” you begin, itching to use the bathroom.

“Ah! You gotta leave?” asks Sapphire.

You nod. “Got work in the morning.”

“Eugh,” he sighs, shoulders slumping. “Me too.”

“Me three,” says Zero.

“Ah, the working world. We’re lucky, huh Tiki?” Lolita says with a wistful sigh as water from overhead drips onto her shoulder. She jumps a little, but settles easily. “Don’t you miss your reckless college days?”

You laugh. “I only graduated last year,” you say, turning toward Sapphire. “Speaking of which, Saph did you ever go to school?”

He stiffens. “Ah, uh…,” he begins, glancing at his feet. He’s quiet for a moment. “No. Not past high school,” he says with an almost sheepish nod.

You don’t say anything, but it seems like there’s something he’s keeping to himself, something he doesn’t want to share. Sapphire is always like that, but this feels a little different.

“Hm,” you say, sensing his discomfort. “Welp, I’m gonna peace out for the night. Message me when you guys wanna go for the next fragment. I’ll keep researching where it might be.”

“Mm, sounds good,” says Tiki. “I’m starving. Loli, wanna get some food?”

Lolita glances at Tiki out the corner of her eye. “You mean, like, real food?”

Tiki sighs. “Obviously real food. I don’t wanna waste money on game food.”

She laughs and nods. “Alright. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”

“Mm.”

Without another word, both Tiki and Lolita blink out, leaving nothing behind them. You turn toward Zero and pat his back. “Sorry for getting on your case tonight,” you say. “I was worried Tiki would fall and then…well, you get it.”

Zero shrugs, examining one of his perfect fingernails. “No, I wasn’t on my game tonight. I’ll be better next time.”

“Me too,” you say, waving as Zero too blinks out.

You turn toward Sapphire and offer a smile. “Sorry for asking about college,” you say.

He stiffens, brows raised. “Hm? Oh, no it’s fine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “It’s just, uh…well, you know my dad always wanted me to go to college so…”

You wave your hands, shake your head. “Forget it, alright? I won’t bring it up unless you do first.” You smirk. “You played tank tonight, didn’t you?”

He laughs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Don’t do that shit,” you say, but you can’t help your smile. “What would we do if we lost you in the middle of a battle?”

You can see his posture go a little straight. He turns to you, blinking. “You…?” he begins, but cuts himself off with a laugh. “Ah, mm, well…I’d better get going.”

“Mhm. Message me if you get any new info about fragment locations,” you say, then chuckle. “Or if you just wanna talk about The Bachelor or something.”

He laughs with you. “I don’t watch The Bachelor!”

“Well, whatever you watch!” you call as you jog a few paces away. You offer a wave which Sapphire mimics before pressing the disconnect button on your headset.

You shake your head, disoriented as you return to your bedroom, your window sitting before you, the outskirts of Bucheon spreading out in spindly arms around you. Your head throbs a little and you wince, removing your sensor gloves and setting them gently on the light wood table beside your computer. You guide one of the philodendron leaves to the side so it won’t tickle the gloves. You shuck off the sensor jacket too and leave it draped over the back of your gaming chair. Slowly, you return your attention to the window, smiling down at the sea of lights undulating in the dark. It’s a nice evening, you notice as you press the pads of your fingers to the cool glass.

Your phone, until then sitting dormant on the tabletop beside your potted jade plant, pings to life with a notification. Your eyes widen and you grab for it, stretching your torso as you do to work out your aching muscles. Tonight’s session with the group had gone long, and the fatigue on your back is severe from slumping in that gaming chair like a shrimp. And even though you have to move your upper body to activate the full range of Arcana’s sensor controls, your ass feels like you’ve just sat through back-to-back, four-hour lectures.

BeastSlayers™

SacredSapphire: miss u guys already :-(

You laugh, watch as Tiki begins writing a message in response.

TikiTikiRoom: ..

TikiTikiRoom: dont be soft bitch ill kill you

You pad down the hallway, watching your phone as you stumble through the dark apartment with one hand on the wall bracing you. You connect your phone to the TV speakers and play some lofi something or other, bop your head as you enter the kitchen and flip on a flickering yellow light. You rifle through the freezer, produce a cherry red popsicle. You press it to your lips and smile.

Lolovely: I haven’t even made it to Tik’s dorm wtf why are you being sappy already?

CodenameZer0: Looool, Saph? More like SAP.

TikiTikiRoom: press f

SuperNova: I think it’s sweet :’)

SuperNova: Wanna voice chat?

SacredSapphire: nonono

SacredSapphire: someone’s coming over lol

Lolovely: ominous…

You chuckle and take a bite of your popsicle. But as you do, the thing turns to mush and slides from the stick like slop, staining your white shirt and your lips red. “Shit!” you exclaim, then rush to the freezer.

With a sigh, you notice that a layer of ice is frosted over the back. And as you jam your hand in, you can feel that the temperature is higher than it should be. Hence, melty popsicle. You groan, take to it with a knife from the creaky drawer. You chip away at the ice and keep chipping until the back of the freezer is visible once more.

“Cheap piece of crap,” you mumble, kicking the fridge with your socked toe.

You return to the group chat to a slew of messages.

TikiTikiRoom: WAIT SAPH DO YOU HAVE A BOY/GIRL/THEYFRIEND??

TikiTikiRoom: IM GONNA HAVE AN ANEURISM

Lolovely: !!!!!!!!!

Lolovely: ??????

CodenameZer0: Hohohoh

CodenameZer0: Could it be?

SacredSapphire: NO!!

SacredSapphire: i don’t have a boy/girl/theyfriend! i’m too busy, rip

SacredSapphire: it’s just someone

SacredSapphire: don’t worry about it lol

Lolovely: sus…

Lolovely: nova’s better at this stuff

Lolovely: interrogation

Lolovely: think if i scream hard enough nova will come back?

Lolovely: NOVAAAAAA

You laugh and take a few photos. First of the old laminate floor which now resembles a crime scene in cherry popsicle red. Next of your shirt, now streaked in slush. Third, of your face, lips stained like you’ve smeared lip tint on your skin. You pull a pout before snapping the shot, then send all three together.

SuperNova: I crave death.

SuperNova: Stupid cheap fridge. Freezes over literally monthly.

SuperNova: I hate it here.

Lolovely: oooh that pic…

Lolovely: kinda….sexy hehe

SuperNova: ???

You set your phone aside and take to cleaning the floor. Last thing you need in this shithole is an ant infestation. Your music bumps gently through the sound bar beneath your TV. Sure, your apartment is decked out in tech, but the place itself?

You glance around the kitchen, a sanitary white with pretty fixtures, and suppress a sigh. It’s all for show anyway, this apartment. Like almost all the others in the area, it only looks nice. The reality, however…

Well, it’s melted popsicles and a shower that only runs lukewarm.

You check your phone with a hip against the countertop.

TikiTikiRoom: lewd lol

SuperNova: Shut up lmao nothing lewd about my shitty fridge.

SuperNova: Anyway, no I’m not gonna help you bully Saph.

SuperNova: Leave him alone or I’ll bite your ankles.

Lolovely: !!!

Lolovely: qu'est-ce que pas?

Lolovely: Nova…you’ve been defending Saph lately…

Lolovely: hold on i’m seeing something…

CodenameZer0: Don’t threaten my ankles.

SacredSapphire: nova baby ur the only loyal one here

Laughing, you type your response and make your way to the couch, falling flat on your stomach with an unpleasant thump.

Jeon Jungkook sits still, swiveling in his gaming chair with a soft smile as he watches the messages surge through the Discord group chat. Even though they’re busy teasing him, Jungkook can’t help the swell of fondness in his chest for his group mates. He leans back precariously far, the room nearly pitch black save for the shifting LEDs on his keyboard and the purple screensaver on his monitor.

SuperNova: It’s you and me, Saph.

SuperNova: Now come here and get your kith :3

Jungkook chokes a laugh with his hand, covering his mouth as his eyes squint. He tosses his head to the side, lets out a sigh. Quietly, he touches the photo you sent and lets it spread across his screen. He chuckles, examining your expression. Displeased, you eye the camera with furrowed brows and a pout. Briefly, Jungkook considers telling you it’s cute.

But he quickly clicks out of the photo, clears his throat, and catches up with the chat.

CodenameZer0: God, barf.

TikiTikiRoom: no kithes for zero

Lolovely: lolol i want a kith :(

SuperNova: Get in line then. Saph first.

SacredSapphire: i….*blushes*

SacredSapphire: N-N-Noona!

CodenameZer0: FUCKING BARF GOODBYE

Zero’s icon goes offline and Jungkook laughs in earnest now, his head lolling back. But before he can respond, the door to his studio opens with a robotic jingle. He jumps a little, turning his whole body toward the door. He nearly falls off the chair as he swivels.

In the doorway, Kim Seokjin shuffling across the threshold with two cups of coffee in a carrier. He looks a little disheveled, hair windswept and eyes scanning the room round and round. His gaze lingers here and there: resting on Jungkook’s wall of figurines, then on the futon still pulled down and covered in a messy heap of sheets, then on Jungkook’s face as he sits perfectly still, perfectly redhanded. Jungkook’s mouth agape, his fingers poised to type another message to the group chat, his computer monitor showing no lyrics, no notes, no Ableton. Just his screensaver.

Jungkook had planned to pull up his WIP song before Jin arrived, but the opportunity to do that has long since passed.

“Uh…,” Jungkook says, dumbfounded with round eyes glowing in the flashing keyboard lights. “Hey, Seokjin.”

Jin’s nostrils flare, his expression fiery. His attention flashes to the sensor gloves, the controllers sitting beneath them, the sensor jacket left astray on the ground, haphazard.

“Jeon Jungkook-,”

“I can explain!”

Seokjin glares at him, cocks one single brow. “Uh-huh?”

“I…,” Jungkook begins, flustered as he rises to his feet. He feels like he’s in school again. Seokjin’s gaze is disarming, intense, and his knuckles are white as he crushes the cardboard handle of the coffee carrier. “Uh…I was taking a small tiny little break.”

“A small,” Seokjin begins, placing the coffee on Jungkook’s work desk and resting his palm beside it, “tiny,” he continues, leveling his eyes with Jungkook’s, “little break?” Jin’s jaw is clenched.

Jungkook swallows hard. “Mhm…”

Jungkook expects Seokjin to bare his canines, to sneer at him, to scold him to kingdom come. But his manager simply eases into a sigh and leans away from Jungkook, rubbing his forehead. It’s clear the will to fight with Jungkook is slowly leaking, and before long Seokjin has fallen backwards onto the futon, crushing the blanket mountain in his descent.

“Listen,” Seokjin says, fatigue in his voice. “You’ve got…so much going on in the next few months, you know?”

“I know!” Jungkook says, quick to sit beside Seokjin, brows knitting. He feels like a kid again, and the disappointment laced through Jin’s words feels like his childhood. “Trust me, I’m not just…like, procrastinating. It’s not that.”

Jin eyes him sidelong. “Then what is it?”

Jungkook stiffens, his back straight as a board. He clears his throat, stares at the coffee. “Let me get those,” he says, rushing to his feet with a clumsy stumble and grabbing the coffees before returning to his spot beside Jin. He hands Jin a coffee, expectant and, begrudgingly, Seokjin takes it and sips.

“Don’t avoid the question,” he says, stern. “If anyone’ll understand, it’s gotta be me, right?”

Jungkook nods. “No, you’re right!”

“Like, we’ve gone through some hard shit and where have I been? Right behind you. From day one,” he says, leveling a serious look at Jungkook. The lighthearted mood has fled from the room through the cracks in the walls. “All I’m asking is for you to put in the effort.”

Jungkook sighs, rests his forearms on his knees, laces his fingers around the coffee cup. He stares at the space between his toes. “I just…,” he begins, voice choked with insecurity. He doesn’t want to say it. In fact, he’d rather do just about anything else.

Because, after all, saying it means it’s real.

And if it’s real, then it’s a real problem.

“Listen,” Jin begins, patting Jungkook’s back. “I get it. Making music…it can be really tiring, right?” he says. Jungkook can only shrug. “And sometimes you might not feel like you can do it. Like you don’t have the inspiration.”

“Mm…”

Seokjin gives another pat, stronger this time. “But that’s how life is, Jungkook. Work doesn’t just wait. You’re an adult now. You’ve got adult responsibilities. And when you make a passion into your full-time job, you kinda sacrifice the freedom. Deadlines are a thing. You can’t just…be flippant and casual about it.”

“I’m not being casual,” says Jungkook, and for the first time since Jin walked in his voice is strong and steady. He sits up straight and meets Jin’s imploring eyes.

Seokjin offers a small smile. “Good,” he says. “I trust you. And, you know, you’ve got a whole team of producers behind you who wanna see you succeed. All you’ve gotta do is call.”

“I know.”

“You’re not doing it alone, alright?” he asks, and Jungkook’s throat tightens a little. “That’s the good thing about making your passion into your full-time job, huh? Now…well, now it’s not just your responsibility. It’s divided.”

“Yeah.”

“Well…,” Seokjin says, patting his thighs as he pushes to his feet. “Just wanted to drop by and check on you.”

Jungkook offers a smile and nods, standing with his manager. “Yup.”

“You do remember what’s on deck for tomorrow, right?” asks Seokjin, cocking a brow as he takes another swig of coffee.

Jungkook nods again. “Screen test with the drama people.”

Jin smacks the side of Jungkook’s head and crosses his arms. “Not the drama people!” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s IJBC.”

“IJBC, right,” Jungkook says as he tenderly rubs the side of his head. “I remember.”

“Do you even know the name of the drama?” The younger boy falls silent, sheepish. “It’s called Give Up Generation, Jungkook.”

“I remember,” Jungkook says, pouting a little. “I just…forgot for a minute.”

Jin can’t help chuckling. “Get to bed early then so you don’t have dark circles,” Jin says with a smile, nodding as he turns toward the door. “Ah!” Seokjin pivots around, casting a disdainful look over Jungkook’s shoulder at the foldout futon. He pulls a scowl. “Sleep at home tonight, will you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Alright. Stop nagging now,” he says, patting Jin’s back as he guides him out the door and into the hallway. “Bye, Jin!” he calls, not awaiting a response.

Slowly and with his head down, Jungkook shuffles back inside and slumps into his gaming chair, staring at his screensaver. He heaves a deep down sigh, lets it escape through his lips nearly pinched shut. Like exhaling cigarette smoke.

His phone pings to life with an incoming message.

SuperNova: Alright, I had your back before but I don’t cosign the Noona Agenda. I don’t even know if I am your noona.

Lolovely: seconded.

Lolovely: plus it’s icky.

TikiTikiRoom: boooooo

SuperNova: Wait, I think I just heard something in the hallway. Hold on.

Lolovely: SCARY!

TikiTikiRoom: burglars lol

Lolovely: ctrl z yourself, tiki

Lolovely: what if it is though…?

TikiTikiRoom: doubt it.

SuperNova: !!!

SuperNova: Lol it was a package…?

Lolovely: so late…?

SuperNova: Yeah…Lemme open it hold on.

The next message that comes through is a photo you send. Jungkook sits up straighter, opens it quick, and grins once he realizes what it is. A cardboard box, relatively big, sitting torn open on your kitchen floor, the photo features a look inside at several pretty makeup palettes and brushes. Jungkook doesn’t know the names of everything he sees, but he knows why it’s a big deal.

SacredSapphire: !! they finally sent it!!

SuperNova: They did!!

Lolovely: wait what? what did who send?

SuperNova: Lol, sorry. Uh I guess I only told Saph. But the brand I’ve been communicating with actually sent me a PR package! I’m gonna use it on my next job.

SuperNova: This shit’s super expensive too, so I’m lucky I’ve been in contact with a rep.

SuperNova: Gotta use the best to be the best!

TikiTikiRoom: i forgot ur a makeup artist lol

TikiTikiRoom: .-.

SuperNova: …

SuperNova: We’ve been group mates for like four months jfc

SuperNova: Anyway, yeah I’m glad. I guess they sent it to the wrong apartment? So my neighbor brought it over. He just got back from work.

Lolovely: neighbor?

Lolovely: cute neighbor?

SuperNova: He’s like seventy so no, not really my type.

SacredSapphire: nova, that’s super cool. i’m sure you’re gonna get big gigs soon.

SuperNova: Well, I can hope haha.

SuperNova: No, well…all I can do is work hard.

SuperNova: >:-)

All you can do is work hard, huh?

Jungkook tosses his phone to the side and rubs his hands up and down his face. He pinches his eyes shut and relaxes into the back of his chair, feeling the lull of sleepiness finally pulling at him.

And instead of going home like Jin asked, Jungkook simply pads over to the futon and, without moving the blankets, collapses atop them and falls asleep where he falls.

“I’m very sorry.”

“No…uh, no it’s fine.”

“Of course, you can keep the fees or whatever.”

“Oh, um, I…no, I’ll refund those too.”

“Really? I’ll give you a really good review!”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m really sorry.”

You sigh, plant a hand on your forehead and heave a sigh. Forcing a smile, you shake your head and press your phone into the crook of your shoulder, bending down to give your fiddle-leaf fig a hose down with your watering can.

“It’s fine. Things come up, you know?”

The girl on the other side of the phone, a young independent model going in for headshots, had called you an hour ago and had spoken at length about why she has to cancel her appointment with you today. How the photographer did this or that, how she actually watched a few tutorials online and figured she could do it herself, how she felt so so bad. You feel bad for her, of course. Kind of.

“Listen, I’ll give you a shoutout on my page, alright? I’ll tag you in my story,” she says.

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine. Just, um…you know, take care. Remember to clean your brushes.”

At this, she laughs. “Thanks for being so cool. I was actually super nervous to call and cancel. I’ve had to cancel a few things like this before, and I’ve had bad experiences,” she says. “Anyway, I’ll recommend you!”

“Alright.”

“Thanks!”

You nod as she hangs up the phone. Gently, you rise to your feet and set your watering can aside on the kitchen table. You set the phone beside it, pausing to glare at the black screen. Well…there goes your Sunday. You turn over your shoulder, pad to the window, crack it open a little. A bracing breeze whistles through, cooling your skin. You shut your eyes against it — only for a moment — before you turn on your heel, shove your feet into your sneakers sockless, swipe your phone and house keys, and shove out the door.

The florist’s is a healthy walk away, but the weather is nice enough and you’re too tired to brave the subway even if it’s only a few stops. You pass buildings and parks as the landscape becomes more and more urban and the high rises look like they could puncture the cloud layer. Before long, you’re standing in front of Happy Garden and, stepping through the sliding doors that are always left open and all-but nonfunctioning with the lush green plants climbing all around. You breathe a sigh of relief, pat your chest a little as the fresh, grassy scent settles your heart.

You aren’t there for more than half a minute before Hoseok stumbles out from the back room, grinning wide with a bouquet of hydrangeas in his hands, wrapped in butcher paper and twine. He curves around the stumbling greenery littering every surface and encroaching on every walkway and comes to a stop in front of you. He smiles.

“Hey,” you say before he gets the chance. You hold up one limp hand in a lazy wave.

He glances up and down, from your head to your toes, and sighs. Still holding the hydrangeas, he rests a hip on the checkout counter and cocks a brow.

“That is the opposite of encouraging,” you remark with a scowl.

He chuckles, pats your arm. “What’s up?” He jerks his head toward the front of the store where bouquets are displayed and you follow behind him as he leads you there. “Unsuccessful raid?”

“Contrary to popular belief, my life doesn’t revolve around video games, actually,” you say, but his laugh wipes the grimace from your face.

His fluffy hair bounces as he bends down to add the hydrangeas to the display and when he stands upright once more he crosses his arms. “You know what I mean. You’ve been in here a lot lately.”

“Pardon me for trying to raise plants,” you say with a pout.

Again, he laughs. “Jesus, stop trying to pick a fight!” he says. “You must be in a really bad mood if you’re here acting like this.”

“Well what’s that supposed to mean?” you begin, outrage all over your face, before locking eyes with Hoseok and composing yourself. You sigh, nod your head. “Yeah, no I’m being annoying.”

He smiles, heart-shaped, and the apples of his cheeks grow rounder. What a joyful guy, you think to yourself with a wistful sigh. “Tell me about it then.”

He pulls one of the empty display boxes over and offers you a seat as he begins tending to the plants all around. You oblige, settle in, and sigh again. “It’s just…everything kinda feels like a dead end right now.”

“Hm?” he asks over his shoulder, graceful hands guiding a waxy leaf back in place.

“Like with my work,” you say, then shake your head. “No, that’s not it. Not entirely.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…things are okay, you know? I’m getting PR gifts. I’m growing my following on Instagram. I’ve got consistent clients,” you say, nodding. “Like everything is fine, you know?”

“But something feels…missing maybe?” Hoseok offers as he moves to spraying the ferns with water.

You shake your head. “More than that, it’s…like, I feel like I’ve hit the ceiling of what I can do, you know? Like what if this is the best I’ll ever do?”

“Is that bad?” he asks.

You sigh. “Not bad, just…disappointing,” you say. “I wanna work on movies. Red carpets. Editorials.” You rest your chin in your hand and your elbow on your knee. You stare up at Hoseok, now trimming brown leaves from another plant across the store. “I don’t wanna be stuck doing birthday parties forever.”

Hoseok hums, turns toward you with his hands in his apron pocket. He offers a smile. “You sound like a brat.”

You stiffen, eyes wide. “I-,” you start, but there’s really not much you can say to retort. So, softly, you slump once more and shrug. “Yeah…”

“And if you keep that attitude, you’re never gonna be an editorial makeup artist. I can promise you that,” he says with a nod as he approaches once more and crouches before your knees, still smiling. “Everyone has to grow somehow, you know? Be grateful you’ve got opportunities to build your resume.”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“What brought all of this on?”

Shrugging, you glance away toward the big croton plant in the corner, basking in morning sunlight, leaves all stiff and red and green. It’s a pretty plant. You tilt your head to the side, stare longer.

“That model bailed,” you say, but you’ve almost forgotten the self-pity of a moment ago. You stand to your feet and wander toward the plant, hitting halfway up your thigh. You crouch before it and look it over. “Hoseok, this is a really big croton.”

He laughs. “Mhm.”

“How much?”

“With the pot and given its height, it’s going for thirty-five-thousand won.”

You raise your brows. “I expected worse.”

“We’re fair here!” he protests, wagging his finger at you as he comes to stand beside you.

You smile softly, run a finger along the edge of a leaf. “It’s really pretty.”

“Suits you,” he says.

Without noticing, your anxiety begins to subside. “I think I’ll take it.”

“I’ll give you five-thousand off since you’re having a bad day,” he says, patting your back.

You turn to him with a smile. “Thanks.”

He chuckles. “I’ll loan you the dolly so you can get that thing home. Just bring it back before two.”

You stand up, stare down at the plant, nod once. “Mhm.”

Hoseok makes his way toward the cash register, punches in a few numbers. You linger a few steps behind, still staring at the croton. You get a good feeling off that one. Hoseok would tease you if you said as much, but you know when to listen to your intuition.

“Your big break will come Y/N,” Hoseok says as he rings you up, not once glancing to meet your eyes. “Just keep going.”

Jungkook sits with his head leaning against the rattling van window, eyes half-shut. Seoul blurs past him in shades of silvery grey and it’s all he can do to keep himself from falling asleep. For all his nagging, Seokjin had been right about one thing: Jungkook was sporting purplish bags beneath his eyes from a restless night’s sleep. Jin sits beside him now, frowning at his phone as he scrolls through Twitter. He’d given Jungkook a very stern talking to once he’d seen him, and really Jungkook deserved it. He knows that.

“Your voice is in good condition, right?” asks Jin.

Jungkook sits up straight, clears his throat. He shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”

Still stewing over his phone, Seokjin waves his hand without looking up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Jungkook sighs, leans back once more, gazes out the window once more. His phone buzzes once and he grabs it quickly, eager to distract himself.

BeastSlayers™

SuperNova: [image attached]

SuperNova: check him out OJO

Jungkook clicks the image you sent and chuckles as it loads up. The photo features nothing of you save for one hand, reaching out from behind the camera, throwing up a peace sign. Behind your hand, a houseplant. A pretty big one at that.

Jungkook smiles and drafts his reply, but the others are quicker.

CodenameZer0: Another plant? Lol isn’t your apartment overflowing with them by now?

SuperNova: Hush. Look at him.

LoLovely: cute!

LoLovely: does he have a name?

SuperNova: I don’t name my plants.

TikiTikiRoom: lol

TikiTikiRoom: because THAT would be weird

CodenameZer0: At least Nova can care care for a plant in the first place.

CodenameZer0: Let’s be honest here, Nova’s probably the only one among us who is even remotely responsible enough.

SacredSapphire: Nova it’s cute!

SacredSapphire: name him after me ;3

SuperNova: Sapphire?

SacredSapphire: hmmm say my name hehe

CodenameZer0: STOP IT FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST

CodenameZer0: IF THE FLIRTING DOESN’T STOP I’M GETTING YOU A TWO-WEEK BAN ON ARCANA

SacredSapphire: SHIT okay okay, let’s just take it easy

SacredSapphire: talk this out like adults…

SuperNova: Once I’ve finished setting up my new plant, I’m gonna play Animal Crossing. Anyone free to join? I’ve got oranges and mums.

SuperNova: Also had a meteor shower last night and have leftover star fragments first come first served.

The offer is tempting, to be sure. Not only would he receive star fragments, he’d be able to wander your island with the others. It might feel like you guys are side-by-side for real. Jungkook reaches into his backpack, slumped between his knees, and rifles around for his Switch. But as he produces the case, Seokjin shoots him the evil eye.

“If you’ve got time to play games, you’ve got time to review your lines,” he says, cocking a brow.

Jungkook sighs a little, slides the Switch back inside his bag. “I’ll look them over again.”

“Good.”

He takes one last look at his cell phone, checking the group chat with a frown that pinches the sides of his lips.

TikiTikiRoom: MEMEMEME

TikiTikiRoom: if any of you fakes get there before me ill go apeshit

TikiTikiRoom: i need so many

LoLovely: don’t need fragments, just wanna see ur cute face hehe

SuperNova: /blushes

SuperNova: I’ll open the gates once Sapphire Junior is nice and settled.

CodenameZer0: I’ll come too. I wanna shop.

SuperNova: Can’t you be cute like Lolita?

CodenameZer0: /gags

SuperNova: You coming, Saph? I’ll save a few fragments for you.

TikiTikiRoom: FAVORITISM

SuperNova: I am transparent about my favoritism toward Sapphire.

SuperNova: Because he is indeed my favorite.

LoLovely: *shocked pikachu face*

SacredSapphire: soz :-( i can’t

SacredSapphire: working

SuperNova: :-(

SuperNova: Next time we’ll all come to your island.

Jungkook tries not to feel that twinge of melancholy that tugs at his chest. That one he always gets when his friends go out for barbecue or grab drinks and hit the karaoke rooms. The one that feels like he’s really, deeply, fundamentally missing out on something important.

No, he doesn’t feel it. Instead, he focuses his attention on the printout Seokjin had given him three days ago. He scans the lines over and over, committing them to memory.

“No! That’s the thing, she didn’t even tell me!” says the girl below your brush.

You attempt to guide the highlighter across her cheekbones, but before you can make contact with her skin she’s jerked away once more, talking so animatedly that you can’t even tell if you’ve made her eyebrows even.

“That’s shitty,” says her friend beside her, likewise preoccupied as Jieun struggles to match her skintone.

The two of you lock eyes, both hovering over the two women as they chat over matching cups of coffee. Jieun puffs out her cheeks, raises her brows, and goes back to work, smoothing foundation on to the client’s chin with a brush.

You stand in a nice apartment — all marble floors and high ceilings and windowed walls overlooking Seoul. When you’d gotten the offer for a Seoul gig with Jieun, you’d been hesitant. The subway ride is long and you prefer to stay relatively local. But something made you agree. You don’t know exactly what. Call it divine intervention or epiphany or Jung Hoseok, but the words just keep going had been replaying in your brain since you last saw your friend. The pair of women — likely in their thirties — had booked both you and Jieun to do their makeup for a Sunday luncheon.

“And you know she’s looking out for him,” says Hyejin with a scoff. “As if I’m gonna bite the kid’s head off.”

“Maybe you will,” jokes the other woman, laughing just as Jieun reaches in to apply some liquid blush to her cheeks. “You know she’s got a soft spot for him.”

“Yeah well it’s a soft spot in all of our wallets if he doesn’t get his shit together,” says Hyejin, sighing. There is real woe in her expression and you can feel from the shift in atmosphere that things have turned serious. “He’s talented, you know? But…sometimes I think she goes too easy on him,” she continues, and this time her tone is decidedly softer, the movement of her face less pronounced.

You use the opportunity to work some powder beneath her eyes with a sponge. “Well, that’s motherhood for you,” says the other, flippant.

“Have you seen what the folks are saying on Twitter?” asks Hyejin as you apply shadow to her eyelids. “About his voice.”

“Hm?”

“Well some of his bigger hate communities have been compiling all the footage of his stage mistakes and they’re spreading it around,” Hyejin says with a huff. “Stupid, honestly. They’re making it out like he makes those mistakes all the time.”

“Netizens are like that, Hyejin,” says the other woman, now easing into her chair with her eyes shut as Jieun can finally get to work setting her base.

“Still…”

“Now you’re the one defending him,” she remarks with a laugh.

“It’s not that,” Hyejin says, scoffing. “It’s just…like if he doesn’t prove himself soon, all those commenters are gonna have more ammunition, you know? Which is annoying for all of us.”

“Sounds like you care a little bit.”

“I dont.”

“Hm.”

You focus on Hyejin’s full lashes, applying mascara with delicate, steady strokes. She hums a little as you use the pad of your fingertips to tame stubborn eyeshadow into blending more seamlessly. It seems, at least, that the conversation has died down. For that, you are very grateful.

“Say, do you two know anything about k-pop?” asks Jieun’s client.

The two of you lock eyes once more. It’s true that you are well-versed in pop culture: video games, TV shows, YouTube drama. But you’d be lying if you said you tune in to Inkigayo every week. And despite Jieun’s age and her trendy look, you know she’s not the type to keep updated on current idols. And you see in her brown eyes your own shock mirrored.

“Um…no, not particularly,” you answer for the both of you. Jieun releases a breath she’d been holding and smiles her thanks. “Do you two work in the field?”

Hyejin waves her hand and sighs. “Don’t go bothering them with those sorts of questions,” she says, and you notice for the first time the easy poshness that this woman has. Even with her head tilted back and her eyes shut tight, she seems sure of herself.

You envy her just a little for that.

“What? They’re young,” says the other woman, grinning with her eyes shut as Jieun works on her eyeliner. “You ever heard of RTE?”

“Hey now,” says Hyejin, warning in her voice.

“I’m just curious,” the woman continues with a sigh. “Look us up if you haven’t.” The woman chuckles, reaching out blind to smack Hyejin’s upper arm. “Hey, maybe even tweet something nice about our artists!”

“Knock it off and let them work,” Hyejin says, prying open one eye to meet yours. She offers a smile, apologetic, and sighs. “She’s just playing around. You can ignore her. It’s what I do.” She nods her head and leans it back once more.

Quietly, you get back to work. But you can’t help but feel like this woman’s incredible presence makes you paler somehow.

“What’s the point if it makes me unhappy?” Jungkook shouts, brows knitting, eyes growing watery. “The money, the lifestyle…what good is it?” his voice settles into a bare whisper, cracked.

“You only say that because you’re young! You’re stupid! You’re naive! You think things work out just because you want them bad enough?” says his costar, glancing down at the script every now and again as the two stand across from one another.

The set bustles on behind them, crew carrying tall lights and fixtures as they scuttle by. But Jungkook and his costar — a man named Namjoon acting as his older brother — continue their scene under the watchful eye of the cameras, trained right on them. Less of a screen test and more of a chemistry check between actors, Director Lim watches the monitor closely with his scrabbly chin in his palm.

“So what if I fail?” Jungkook asks with a quiver, referencing his script once to make sure he got the line right. “What’re you gonna do? Tattle on me to Dad?”

“I won’t have to,” Namjoon says, sighing as he grips the bridge of his nose. “He’s got his watchdogs trained right on you.”

Jungkook stiffens. “He’s been…following me?”

“I told you you’re too naive for the real world, Jiwon.”

Director Lim claps his hands and in an instant the tension and the scene are broken. Jungkook takes a respectful step back from his costar, and Namjoon offers him a bow of the head. Jungkook returns it, fighting off a nervous grin, and turns to the director as he circles around the equipment to stand in front of them. He’s a middle-aged man, handsome in a way with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes that seem to grab you and hold on like a snare. Jungkook is pinned in place like a bug in a shadowbox.

But Director Lim’s face splits in a crooked smile and Jungkook feels himself ease, exhaling long and slow. “Great job, boys!” he says, clapping both of their shoulders. “You were selling it well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Jungkook replies too quick, like an eager child.

Director Lim chuckles, pats him again. “I’m praising you, kid. Don’t look so scared.”

He swallows hard. “I…I know. Um…thank you, Sir.”

Behind the trio, a group of stylists cart a rack of costumes quickly to the other side of the set, snagging the back of Jungkook’s shoe as they do. Jungkook stumbles to his knees, caught off guard, and the girls jerk to a stop as they catch themselves on the clothing rack. The two stare down at Jungkook, wide-eyed, and each of them covers their mouths. Immediately, they bow their heads in apology, both muttering sorry, so sorry almost too quietly to hear. Jungkook shakes his head and stands to his feet.

He too bows his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been standing there,” he says gently, hoping to assuage their concerns.

But the girls remain bowed, as if too afraid to even lift their heads. Jungkook, puzzled, leans down slightly to meet their eyes, but they glance away so quickly that he can’t even get a proper look at either of their faces.

“Um…it’s really not a problem,” he says, but before he can say more Director Lim approaches with a grim severity in his eyes. Jungkook, quick to stand up straight and face the director, stutters a little as he settles himself in front of the stylists. “It’s no big deal,” he says to Director Lim, but it’s like the man can’t even hear him.

“We were distracted, Sir,” says one of the girls, raising her head slightly to meet Director Lim’s gaze. “We are very, very sorry.”

“It really isn’t-,” Jungkook begins.

“You think it’s appropriate to crash into my actors? In the middle of a conversation about their performance?” Lim asks, but it’s clear the question isn’t meant to be answered. His tone has shifted into something cold. “You could have very well injured Jungkook.”

“I’m fine-,”

“But what if you weren’t?”

Jungkook shuts his mouth, staring helpless at the girls as they both stand up straight once more, eyes on the floor and hands knitted in front of them. He feels a hand on his back between his shoulder blades and jumps a little, turning quick to find Namjoon standing close.

“Don’t,” is all he says, voice terse and so quiet Jungkook almost doesn’t hear it, before dropping his hand and taking a half step back.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his hands work into balls as he stares. The lighting is low, dramatic as if a scene composed by Lim himself. The two girls lift only their eyes to gaze up at him.

“We’re very, very sorry, Sir,” says one of the stylists, guiding a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

“Mhm,” he says, looming. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again. Can’t afford to replace two stylists and a makeup artist in the same week.”

Jungkook simply stares, Namjoon’s warning freezing through him like ice. His limbs feel leaden. And as the two girls rush off, dragging their rack behind them, Jungkook focuses again on Director Lim.

He swivels back around to the two actors with a bright, fatherly smile. “Pardon me,” he says, waving his hand with a warm laugh. “Gotta keep the crew in check otherwise they’ll slack off.”

“Ha,” Jungkook puffs out in response, smiling in turn.

Namjoon hums a little. “Why don’t we try the reconciliation scene?”

“What in the world do you mean?” Hyejin yells into her phone just as she ushers you into her apartment. You eye her as her face grows red, her brows coming together. “He’s not quitting!”

Hyejin pauses to offer you an apologetic smile. She’s dressed in a modest pajama dress, padding barefoot along the cool marble floors. She leans against the arm of a nice black leather sofa, raises a hand to her flushed cheek, looks at her toes with vexation. Carefully, you set your makeup kit on her kitchen island, meeting her eyes with raised brows as if asking permission. She waves her hand, nods once before pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and her thumb.

“Listen, we knew Lim was difficult. But this is a huge opportunity for his career.” Hyejin rubs her kneecap, massaging. Her short hair falls along the line of her jaw as she dips her head in a deep sigh. “I know you know that, Seokjin. But you’re his manager. You’ve gotta keep convincing him.”

You begin unpacking your things, setting them neatly along the edge of the countertop, and try not to eavesdrop as Hyejin continues letting out chopped sighs. You can hear her fidget around the apartment behind you. She’d called you again, only a few days later, to secure you for another important event. A meeting, she’d said. You didn’t want to agree. Wanted to say you were too busy, that the commute was too much.

“Hey,” she whispers behind you. You jump, but turn nonetheless to find her cupping one hand over the phone’s receiver. Her eyes are severe, jaw clenched. “How long can you stay? This call might take a while.”

You raise your brows, think back over your schedule. “Hm…,” you respond, then shake your head. “I’m free all day. But…when’s your meeting?”

She stiffens, eyes flashing to the clock on the oven. “Shit,” she mutters. She approaches you with a frown. “I’ve only got two hours to get everything ready—Yes! Yes, I’m still here Seokjin. Stop panicking, for Christ’s sake—,” she says, her shoulders pinching. She glances at you again. “Um…”

You glance around the apartment. It’s spotless, as usual. But you spy in the corner beside a massive potted umbrella tree a taupe pantsuit, hanging beside a steamer. You’d have thought someone in her position would have sent it to the cleaners to be properly steamed, but perhaps it had slipped her mind. With the way she’s pacing around the apartment, still dressed in her pajamas, you wonder if perhaps she’s not as put together as you thought.

“I’ll steam that,” you say with a nod, pointing to the suit.

She stares at you, wide-eyed. “Oh, no. You don’t have to do something like that-,”

You shake your head. “No problem. What else do you need done here?” you ask, consulting your wristwatch with a hum. “If we keep it light, I can have your makeup done in forty-five minutes.”

She blinks at you. “Uh…well…,” she begins, then jumps a little as a voice in the phone shouts loud enough for you to hear. “No! No! Can you relax? I’ll talk you through it in just a minute! I’ve gotta sort some things out,” she shouts back at the phone. She turns her attention back to you with a sheepish smile. “Um, I need to steam the suit, wrap the fruits — they’re a gift for the client —, call the restaurant to confirm the reservation, shine my shoes, organize our documents chronologically and set them up in a binder,” she says.

You have to admit that the sheer volume of busywork has you taken aback. But you steel yourself with a bracing sigh, nod once, and offer her a smile. “Consider it taken care of,” you say.

“Ah! I…I really feel bad dumping all of this on you,” she says, crossing her arms with knit brows. “Normally I’d have my assistant doing all of this, but she’s ill.”

“Not a problem,” you say, smiling once more. “Just take care of your phone call and leave the rest to me! As long as we’ve got forty-five minutes for makeup, we’ll be fine.”

She lets out a sigh that seems to deflate her, shoulders slumping as if in profound relief. She nods once, smiling, and turns on her heel. “I’ll be in my office, alright? I promise I’ll be out in time!”

You give one wave as she rushes through a clouded glass door and shuts it behind her. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater and get to work on the suit.

Two hours later, and you’re accompanying Hyejin out into the apartment hallway. She pauses as the door clicks shut, waiting for it to give a chime, and turns to you with a sigh. She looks pretty. You had to rush a bit once she emerged from her office, and after taking care of the other chores you found it difficult to focus on her makeup, but you’re proud enough of your work given the circumstances. You’ve managed to match her eyeshadow to her pantsuit with gentle oranges and reds.

Since you were rushing to finish everything in time, the two of you hadn’t had a chance to exchange words. Perhaps you are curious — just a little — about the emergency she had to quell over the phone. Or maybe you just want a proper thank you. So you linger beside her in the well-lit hallway, you let your eyes wander to a potted fern in the corner by the elevator, wait for Hyejin to say something.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sighing. She glances at you through her lashes.

Your eyes go wide. “Hm? What for?”

“For having you do all of that,” she says, flitting one manicured hand. “I feel guilty.”

You shake your head. “No,” you say with a smile. “It’s no problem at all, honestly. You had me booked for an hour and a half anyway.”

She sighs again. “I really feel bad.”

“Don’t worry about it…,” you say, eyeing her. She crosses her arms, vexed, and purses her lips a little. “Um…was that call about an artist?” you ask.

She snaps back to herself, glancing at you. “Oh? Yes. That was about our biggest artist actually,” she says. “I think I’ve got it taken care of though, thanks to you.” She guides the two of you to the elevator. “I’ll pay you extra, alright?”

You laugh. “No, no. It’s fine! I’m just glad it all worked out.”

She stares at you, scanning you for a very long moment as the elevator rises to your floor. You try not to fidget, not to shrink under her scrutiny, but you feel yourself recoiling just a little. Her gaze is intense, knowing, as if she can see right through you and she’s looking for something. And as the elevator arrives, she gives a hum that sounds contented and you wonder if she’s found it.

Jungkook glances around the empty pavilion, scanning the cobbled streets for any sign of escape. From above, a dark mage is laying waste to the small shanty town. Not a single player has ventured out this way, all following a lead in the Elysian Forest to the west. But after you had mentioned a tip you got from researching at the Library of Arcana, you’d suggested visiting the seaside nook on the far south of the map. A legendary evil slumbers hidden, you’d recited over voice chat with a laugh, Sounds about right.

Only now, Jungkook’s alone. His hands are sweaty around the controllers in his palms and the realistic graphics are serving only to make him more nervous as the mage swings low near the central fountain and sets off a spray of fire just in front of him. Jungkook can almost feel the heat.

Jungkook had set out to do some scouting. Nothing extreme. Just a simple peek about, seeing if he could find any clues. He sent a message to the group chat, but he hadn’t waited on a response before he signed in. He’d had no idea that the Big Bad herself would come flying from the fountain the moment he touched the water with his sword. And now she’s circling him like some sort of hawk. Quickly, Jungkook calls up his inventory menu and searches through his items. A few extra swords he picked up, some ritual herbs, his old chainmail armor, some healing potions and…

The fragment…

If this mage takes him out, he’ll end up dropping his entire inventory. Including the fragment.

And by the time he can make his way back over here, other players will have come running from the commotion.

And the fragment will be gone.

“Shit,” he hisses out, dismissing the menu and focusing back on the mage as she releases a chilling cackle.

The quaint village is smoking, with thatched roofs catching fire and whole storefronts crumbling into piles of simmering stone. The sky is nearly blotted out with ash, and all he can see is that mage, swirling around up there in billowing black robes and shiny white teeth exposed in a wicked grin.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder toward the street he’d taken in to the village, but it’s too smokey to see anything more than the outlines of ruined buildings. There’s no way he’ll be able to navigate his way out of here without a lantern. And if it’s this smokey, he’s absolutely positive that nearby players have noticed. Which means more competition.

And more people to snatch his fragment when he falls.

The mage gives a cry, shouts her line, “Not enough yet?!”, and swoops down at a dizzying pace. Jungkook stumbles back, but he’s not fast enough. She’s approaching in a dark blur, too quickly for him to counter. A flash of regret washes through him as he squeezes his eyes shut inside his VR headset. He doesn’t want to see this.

He waits for a tense moment that way, anticipating the melancholy piano chords that accompany in-game death, but none come. Instead, he hears very keenly the sound of the mage grunting as if in pain. And, in an instant, he opens his eyes wide to see standing on the other side of the fountain, a small, white-haired mage, staff searing with frost and ice as the dark mage clutches her chest.

His heart kicks up. “Nova!” he calls to you.

You turn toward him and, to the extent that you’re able in a video game, square him with a sour look. “You moron!” you shout back.

But he can’t help his grin as he stares at your character. “How’d you get here so fast?”

You launch another ball of ice toward the dark mage, sending her hovering just above the cobblestone in front of the fountain. “I saw your message and figured you’d already gone ahead like an idiot so I logged on right away.”

He laughs, but you’re too focused on dealing ice damage to reciprocate. It seems of all his allies, you’re the best equipped to deal with a dark fire mage. He notices in your hand the staff you wield has changed. Where before you used a gnarled tree root with a rune, now you’re swinging a cool white metal staff with a glowing blue gem.

“New staff!” he calls, pointing.

You nod. “Mhm. The schematic from last time,” you say, dealing another blast. The dark mage falls to the ground, groaning. Jungkook is too excited to see you to notice his cue to act, but your head is very much in the game and you jerk your staff toward the fallen mage. “Well? You gonna slash her or what?”

Jungkook stiffens, jumping back into action. He hoists his sword and lunges, giving the mage a few good hits before recoiling back as she rises into the sky once more. The dark mage sends out a barrage of wild, uncontrolled fire that manages to miss Jungkook and hit you.

“Shit!” you call, pausing to glance through your inventory like Jungkook had before. “Dammit! I’m out of health potions,” you say. He notices your health bar is looking low.

“Why are you so hurt?” he asks as you rush toward him.

You sigh. “I ran into some boars in the woods on the way over here and they drained my health a little.”

“Shit,” Jungkook repeats.

“Yeah,” you say, watching as the dark mage readies another spell. “This is why I wanted all of us to go here together.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, his cheeks flaring hot. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh again. “Don’t worry,” you say, flitting your hand. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to start the battle.”

Jungkook is quiet, thinking. You’d always been this way. From the first time the party played together, you’d been generous with him. With everyone. When Tiki fell in the party’s first battle against some goblins, you’d been the one to retrieve his stuff and give up your armor for him. When Zero — the richest player by far — forgot about your scheduled meeting to gather supplies, you’d paid for everyone’s health potions and weapon repairs in his stead.

He shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t have gone off on my own.”

“No you shouldn’t have,” you say, humming. “You need to remember you’ve got a whole team of people who have your back.” He can hear a smile in your voice.

“I-,” he begins, but you cut him off.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do for now. She’s at half health, so I’ll just wail on her with my ice until she’s within melee range and then you slash her,” you say with a nod. “And if I fall, I fall. Hopefully by then she’ll be low enough health that you can finish her off alone.”

“No, no. If it comes down to it, I’ll take the hit. I’ve got more HP and you’re the one who can do ranged attacks anyway,” Jungkook replies.

There’s no more time to argue, however, because the dark mage turns her fiery eyes toward the two of you and screams before pointing her staff right at Jungkook. Startled, Jungkook glances over at you to see you’re watching too. Neither of you has a chance to say anything before the blast hits, sending the two of you flying back against the fronts of buildings turned to ashy rubble. You let out a shocked gasp through Jungkook’s headset and, as the dust settles, he turns to see your health bar is dangerously low.

“Oh!” he shouts, pulling up his inventory. “Let me grab a health potion! You can have it—,”

“Alright, now I’m pissed,” you interrupt, sidling up to the fountain with measured steps. You consult your inventory and heave a sigh. It seems like you’re mulling something over, but it’s impossible for Jungkook to know what exactly is on your mind. “Use your health potion, Saph!”

He stares at the back of your character’s head, at the capable set of its shoulders. And he feels somehow like he’s really looking at you. The real you. Silhouetted against grey smoke, with a dark mage glowing black and orange in the air above you, he can’t help but think you seem…really cool.

He recalls what you said before. That he has a team of people who have his back.

You grumble something under your breath before deftly swinging your staff around a few times and launching a powerful icy blast toward the mage. She cries out and before she can ready another spell, you’re hurling another ball her way.

“Whoa! Nova, how’re you doing that so fast?” he asks.

“Shut up and heal now!” you shout, and he’s quick to oblige.

You send another blast toward the mage’s chest, and it’s just enough to get her in melee range. But as you do, the staff you’re holding shatters and breaks into shards. The force of the break seems to have some kickback, and you take a few points of damage as you stumble back half a step. You’re down to your very last HP.

“Oh my God! Did it break?” Jungkook asks, stunned.

“Go hit her!” you bark.

Jungkook sends his character rushing the mage once more and gets in a few heavy hits with his sword, pressing furiously on the controllers and moving his arms about wildly in his chair.

He expects her to fly back into the air. Rinse and repeat until she’s finally dead. But this time, perhaps since she’s so low on health, the dark mage simply hovers in front of him. Quickly, she swings her staff back and rears it forward once more, the black orb embedded in the top glowing red.

“She’s gonna hit you!” you shout, and in his shock Jungkook can only turn to look at your character.

Before he can blink, however, you’ve blurred in front of him in a flash of white hair and when the dark mage deals a mighty, close-ranged fire attack, you take it straight to the stomach.

And just like that, your character blinks out of existence, spilling your entire unequipped inventory on the steaming cobblestones in front of Jungkook’s steel shoes.

“Nova?” he calls out, but of course you can’t answer. You’ve warped back to the nearest infirmary somewhere past the woods.

He curses underneath his breath and swings his sword a little wild once, twice, three times until, at last, the dark mage lay prone on the ground, wailing ghostly. She lets out one final scream before withering into pixels. And there, beside your lost inventory, is a canvas loot bag. Jungkook grabs it and pulls from inside a multi chrome shard, glinting in the light refracted through smoke. He examines it. There’s no doubt. It’s a Philosopher’s Stone fragment. Which means your hunch was right.

It also means your party it one step closer to completing the legendary stone, receiving more gold than any of you could ever spend, maxed out HP, and a permanent plaque in Central Square with all of your usernames.

Jungkook sighs as he puts it away in his inventory. He scans through the other loot. A crossbow, some alchemical herbs, and an Imperial Knight’s sword. He pockets everything and, pausing to save, immediately logs off and yanks the headset from his eyes. He drops his controllers, removes his gloves, and sets the sensor jacket aside as he reaches for his phone on his studio desk.

He types in your name in his contact list and calls you right away. Lucky for him, you answer on the second ring.

“Did you get her?” you ask, not sparing even a moment for hellos.

Jungkook stutters a little like an old engine firing up before replying, “Dude what the hell did you do that for?”

You sigh. “I figured you’d have a better shot killing her since I broke my staff.”

“Yeah, but why'd you break your staff?”

“How else were we gonna get her down?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “You spent a long time crafting that, didn’t you?”

You hum. “Not too long.”

“Liar,” he says, but you don’t reply. After a few moments of silence, Jungkook sighs. “I got her.”

He hears you laugh through the phone, followed by a satisfied exhale. “Hell yeah! Then it was worth it.”

“I got the fragment too.”

“She had it!”

Jungkook can’t help but smile a little, staring at his computer screensaver. “Mhm,” he says. “Thanks for taking the hit. I would’ve dropped the first fragment if she’d gotten me.”

You pause. “Oh, you had the first fragment on you?” you ask.

And Jungkook realizes something crucial as the words come crackly through his phone. You didn’t know he was holding it. You didn’t know he could have lost it. You’d jumped in front of that mage not to save the fragment in Jungkook’s inventory, but to save him. He swallows hard, because the silly, stupid sentiment of it makes his eyes a little misty.

“Um…yeah, I did,” Jungkook says slowly, as if testing cold waters.

You sigh. “Why’d you go on your own anyway?”

Jungkook’s shoulders pinch like he’s been struck. Truthfully, he’d logged on after a particularly frustrating call with Seokjin. After begging his manager to let him out of his contract with IJBC, Jungkook had been forced not only to continue working with Director Lim, but to keep good behavior lest the company seize their promotions of his previous album. But after chatting with you, Jungkook’s work is the furthest thing from his mind.

“Um…some issues with my work were getting to me so I figured I’d scout around a little,” he says. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you guys to tell me not to go.”

You laugh. “Turned out okay in the end,” you say easily. “But…your work?”

“Yeah…”

You’re quiet for a moment. While the silence isn’t awkward, it certainly feels thoughtful. “You don’t talk much about your job, so…I guess I was just curious. Like…what sort of issues…,” you continue, voice trailing off.

Jungkook thinks for a moment. What can he safely share without divulging too much? “Um, it’s…like this guy I’m working for is just kind of a dick,” he says, nodding once. “He’s awful to the employees and he’s been firing staff who piss him off. Just the other day he almost fired two people because they ran into me.”

“Oh?” you say, pensive. “So you’re pretty high up then?” you start, then let out a soft grunt and a laugh. “Sorry, I’m prying. Um…he sounds awful. It’s been bothering you working for him?”

Jungkook nods and picks at the skin around his thumb. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s only for a few months, but if it’s this bad after only a few days I don’t really know what to expect. I’m thinking about quitting somehow.”

“Well,” you begin, and Jungkook can hear the sound of things shuffling on the other side of the phone. “Here’s how I see it. If you quit, that’s one less person looking out for the people below you, you know?”

“Hm?”

“Like…if you’re there, maybe you can do some good and prevent other people from getting fired. But if you’re gone, you can’t really help anyone,” you say, then sigh. “I dunno. Just…if you’re forced to work with the guy, I figure you can try to find a way to turn it around. Maybe make things better for the people under you.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long, pregnant moment. He lets your words seep into his skin like a plant photosynthesizing. He really chews on them. “I…I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

You hum. “It’s okay. I can understand how working with someone like that would be really hard,” you say. “But…imagine how hard it is for the people who can’t just up and leave? The folks who have to sit there and take it and don’t have the option to quit, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, brows furrowing. He crosses his arms. “That’s true.”

“I mean, obviously you’re an adult and can do whatever you want, but…I dunno, I guess it would be pretty cool of you to stick around and try to help where you can,” you say. Before Jungkook can respond, however, you gasp. “Oh! I got a text from a client.”

“Oh? Who?” he asks.

“Ah, a woman named Kim Hyejin. She works for some entertainment company or something,” you say, and Jungkook’s blood runs cold.

Kim Hyejin. As in Rooftop Entertainment’s Kim Hyejin? As in Jungkook’s manager’s boss? The reason Jungkook can’t quit? He shakes his head, swallows the lump that’s growing in his throat, tries to silence the incessant thumping in his heart. It can’t be her, right? Surely not. But…really, how many Kim Hyejin’s work for ‘some entertainment company’ and require personal makeup artists? Even if the name is common, that’s just too sensational.

“O-Oh…um…is she the client you saw this morning?” Jungkook asks, but his mouth feels cottony. If you, of all people, were to somehow find out about him…

He shakes his head to clear it.

“Mhm, hold on a sec I’m trying to read it,” you say.

Jungkook doesn’t want to hold on. He doesn’t want to sit and wait for you to answer. He wants to end the call and throw his phone on the futon. He wants to take a long walk around the company building. He wants to delete his Arcana account.

But something keeps him on the line, like a string wrapped around his chest. He’s captive to your every word, desperate to know what Kim Hyejin has to say to you. Has she perhaps found out about Jungkook’s online friends? About the Beast Slayers? About you? Is she reaching out to make you sign an NDA? Did she approach you under the pretense of getting her makeup done only to lure you into accepting some sort of bribe to keep his identity secret?

Is she going to force you to stop contacting him…?

“Holy shit,” you say under your breath.

“What? What is it?” Jungkook says, too quick, too breathless.

You scoff. “Holy shit.”

“Please tell me,” he begs, voice frail. His hands are shaking.

Just when he’s found a group of people who he can connect with, who he can play with, who he can feel comfortable with, something has to come in and ruin it. Jungkook’s heart aches with the dread of anticipation.

“Dude,” you begin, but he can tell you’re smiling. “She just offered me a job on a TV show.”

Jungkook feels that same chill from before creeping up his spine like frost across a windowpane. “What show?” he asks.

If not a premeditated approach, then this has to be…

“Give Up Generation.”

Some sort of divine joke.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jungkook au #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines

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gryffindorcls · 4 years

Text

Meant To Be: Chapter 4 (Your Voice)

IT’S DAY FOUR OF LOVESQUARE FLUFF WEEK 2020!!!

(I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m a day behind. Thanks for your patience!) Thank you @lovesquarefluffweek for organizing this event!

Welcome back! Today’s prompt is “Your Voice”.

This chapter is a song fic. I used the song “Runnin’ Home to You” from the musical episode of “The Flash”. You can listen to it on Spotify here.

I also collabed with @flashflashitsash! She made some STUNNING art for this chapter. You can find it here.

Enjoy!

—

BEGINNING

<— Previous Next —->

AO3

FanFiction

Chapter 4: Your Voice

With the tape measure in hand, Adrien stood at the other end of the table and kept his eyes glued on Marinette. His heart melted when he saw her stick out her tongue while trying to get an accurate measurement. After they finished, she smiled and bounced on the balls of her feet, causing Adrien to nearly combust.

While he watched her write down the measurements on a piece of paper, his mind began to wander. “She’s always been beautiful, but my lady is the only one who’s ever made me feel this way. What changed? Why now?”

“Adrien?” Marinette said, cutting through the haze in his brain, “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“You looked kind of out of it for a second there.”

“Oh, I was just...thinking.”

“Cool! I do that sometimes...ugh...wait, that was probably the dumbest thing I could have said.” She shoved the paper with the measurements into her purse. “Please just ignore me.”

“She’s adorable. Maybe Plagg is right. The heart wants what the heart wants.”

He took a step toward her. “I don’t think I could if I tried. If anything, I think I’m finally seeing you for all that you are.”

“No! What are you doing, Adrien? What about Ladybug?”

She squeaked. “Oh! I...um...d-do you see what you like? I mean...like what you see?”

“Marinette, I think I always have,” he said without thinking.

“Maybe my heart wants her.”

Marinette’s face turned bright red, and her eyes grew wide. “School...us...go?

Adrien held out his arm for her to take. “Shall we?”

“Mmmhmm.” She tentatively took his arm.

An explosion of warmth radiated throughout his body when she finally hugged his arm against her chest. For a brief and fleeting moment, all of the confusion from before melted away.

It felt familiar.

It felt safe.

It felt right.

Like the moment they’d shared in the classroom earlier that day, Adrien was struck by the strength of his feelings for Marinette. Just as he was about to let himself completely fall for her, visions of Ladybug flashed across his mind. His arms tensed involuntarily while he let out a frustrated huff.

“Is everything alright?” she asked quietly.

“Um, yeah.” He scrambled to find an answer. “I...uhh...just remembered that I have to go home before I go back to the school.”

“Oh, I can walk with you!”

“But you live right here. I don’t want you to go out of your way.”

“I don’t mind. Honestly, before I met up with you, my plan was just to go back to my room and watch YouTube videos. It’s a beautiful day, and I’d love the company.”

Adrien’s pulled his hood over his head. “You mean, you wouldn’t mind walking with someone who has to hide their identity from nosy fans?”

She giggled and pulled the strings on his sweatshirt, cinching the hood around his face. “Nope. I wouldn’t even mind if you were wearing a mask. I’d still hang out with you.”

He loosened the hood and met her gaze. “Wait...really?”

“Of course. You’re still you, no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Sounds like you have experience.”

She turned her head and coughed. “Uhhh...no m-more than you!”

“It’s getting awkward,” his mind yelled, “Change the subject!”

He tapped his chin. “I wonder if Ladybug and Chat Noir act differently when they’re civilians. Being able to hide your identity like that must give them the freedom to do things they can’t usually do.”

“No, Adrien, what are you doing?”

“Well,” Marinette began, “everyone has a tendency to act differently when they’re in different situations. It’s probably the same for Ladybug and Chat Noir. For example, I can’t imagine civilian Ladybug doing half the things she does when she’s transformed.”

“You just said that a person is still themselves no matter what they’re wearing, so even if she’s not swinging between buildings every second of the day, I’m sure she’s still brave, selfless, and creative. I bet she’s an everyday Ladybug...just like you.”

Marinette took a sharp intake of breath. “We are going to run out of time if we don’t get going.”

Adrien pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. “Yikes, you’re right. We only have an hour. Let’s go.”

As the duo made their way to the Agreste Mansion, they chatted about school, video games, and their hobbies. Even though Adrien did his best to stay away from topics that had to do with Ladybug and Chat Noir, he couldn’t help but hear his lady in Marinette’s voice. He found it amazing how both girls sounded so similar.

“I must have a really specific type,” Adrien mused inside his head.

“Hey Marinette,” he said, stopping at the wall behind his house, “why don’t we talk more? I love hearing what you have to say.”

She looked to the side and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Well, we usually don’t get the chance to hang out alone with each other. Most of the time we’re with Alya and Nino. And then you weren’t there for a while because you were with…”

“Kagami?”

“Yeah. I heard about you two breaking up. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

“It’s for the best. We were too alike.”

She let go of his arm. “Oh?”

He took a step back. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry!” she said quickly, waving her hands in front of her, “It’s just that a friend of mine said the same thing to me last night. You remind me a lot of him actually.”

“That’s interesting. You remind me of someone I know, too.”

She smiled. “What a funny coincidence!”

He nodded. “I guess you and I just have certain qualities that we look for in friends.”

“At least you don’t pun as much as he does.”

“I hate to tell you this, but I love puns.”

“You do?” Marinette laughed. “Oh, no!”

He feigned mock hurt. “Excuse me, but I think you’ll find that my jokes are quite claw-some. Why even the Queen of England liked my puns when I went to the royal wedding.”

“You told puns to the Queen? Look, I’m not against puns, they’re fine. My dad uses them, but my friend has terrible timing. I hope yours is better, Prince Charming.”

“Oh, so, I’m a prince now?”

“Only a prince could tell puns to the Queen and live to tell the tale.”

“And how would you know that? Are you a princess?”

“I’m not royalty.”

“You could be.”

“I’m just a baker’s daughter. I’m not special.”

Adrien leaned in. “Yes, you are. You’re purr-fect.”

Placing her index finger on the tip of his nose, she pushed him away. “I take back what I said before. You’re not a prince. You’re just a trusted knight who learned one too many jokes from the court jester.”

He took her hands in his. “What if I was both?”

She let go of one of his hands and ran her thumb across his cheek. “That sure would make things easier.”

He cleared his throat, let go of her other hand, and pointed to the grate on his wall. “Oh, um...we’re here, by the way.”

“Adrien, this is the back of your house.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Can you not walk in the front door?”

“No, I snuck out.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m going to go back in and try to convince Nathalie to let me walk with you to school. I think she’ll say yes. Wait for me out front, and I’ll text you if I get permission.”

She shook her head and laughed. “I guess this is where I wish you good luck?”

Adrien patted his bag. “I still carry around my Marinette lucky charm wherever I go, so I have all the luck I need!”

“You do?”

“Of course, it’s one of my most prized possessions.”

“I still have yours. It’s in a special place in my room.”

Adrien felt Plagg poke his stomach from inside his sweatshirt. When he reached inside of his pocket to make him stop, his Kwami shoved his phone into his hand.

He pulled out the phone and looked at the time. “Yikes! We only have a half-hour left. I gotta get going. Hopefully, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“See you soon!” She waved and made her way down the sidewalk.

Once Marinette had turned the corner, Adrien knelt down, removed the bars from the grate, and shimmied through the small opening. He ran across the garden, climbed through the window, hopped into the bathroom, and snuck back to his room.

“I guess you’re no longer in love with Ladybug.” Plagg zipped out of the sweatshirt pocket.

Adrien sighed. “I don’t know. Marinette and Ladybug are so alike. I have no idea how to choose, but at least I took your advice. She and I are going to hang out after school today.”

“Good, but what about the food you promised me.”

“Marinette’s family owns a bakery. I’ll buy you something there.”

Adrien grabbed his books, shoved them into his bag, and made his way to Nathalie’s desk.

“Yes, Adrien,” the assistant said before he could announce his presence, “What do you need?”

He fiddled with the strap on his bag. “I was wondering if I could walk to school with my friend Marinette. It’s such a nice day, and it’s not that far.”

“You know your father doesn’t like it when you’re not with your bodyguard.”

“Please, Nathalie? She’s waiting outside the front gate, and I don’t want her to have to walk back on her own.”

“Fine, but you two won’t be walking. She will come with you in the car.”

While it wasn’t what he wanted, he knew arguing wouldn’t help. “Okay.”

She pushed up her glasses with her index finger. “Is there something else you need?”

“Could I hang out with Marinette after school? It’s Friday, and I’m done with almost all my homework for the weekend.”

“You have a photoshoot in the morning.”

“I won’t be out late. I promise.”

Without responding, Nathalie stood up and walked into his father’s office. When she returned, she sat down at her desk and started typing.

“You have until seven o’clock,” she said without looking up from her computer.

A surge of excitement flooded his brain. “Thank you!”

He pulled out his phone, texted Marinette, and ran outside. When he got there, his bodyguard was opening the car door for his classmate. He quickly hopped into the other side of the vehicle.

“Sorry, we’re not walking, but this was the best I could do,” he said with a shrug.

She buckled her seatbelt. “Compromise isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“You’re right.”

“Besides, we are running out of time. We only have twenty minutes of our lunch break left.”

“We do? I was hoping to buy something from the bakery before we headed back to class.”

“Did you not eat?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I have to stop by my place anyway to grab my backpack and give my dad these measurements. Come in with me, and I’ll have my mom give you something from the bakery.”

“I have money.”

She crossed her arms. “And it will be useless in our store. My parents are always forcing food on my friends, and my mom would be more than happy to give you something.”

“Your parents are awesome,” he said, feeling a pang of jealousy in his gut.

“They are. They’re a little nosy, but they’re great. My parents treat all my friends like family. You know you’re welcome to come over whenever you want, right?”

“I am?”

“Yeah, I have friends over all the time.”

“That would be amazing.”

The car pulled up to the bakery, and both teens hopped out. They were greeted by two smiling faces when they walked through the door.

“Hello, Adrien!” Sabine greeted cheerfully.

“Sorry it took me so long to get the measurements.” Marinette handed the paper to her father. “I ran into Adrien, and we started talking.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.”

“Maman, would it be okay if I grabbed a few croissants. Adrien didn’t eat any lunch.”

Marinette’s mother gasped. “Well, that won’t do! Come here, my dear, and we’ll pick out a few things.”

Adrien didn’t try to contain his excitement. “Thanks, Mrs. Cheng!”

“Anytime.”

While he looked at the case of treats, Marinette’s father spoke to her with a booming voice. “I know it’s short notice, but I’m going to need you to help me with setting up over at the venue tonight.”

“But, papa, Adrien wanted to hang out with me after school.” Marinette drooped.

Adrien couldn’t stand to see her looking upset. “I can help out if you want.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” she said sadly, “We can hang out another time.”

“No, I insist. If I go home, I’d just sit around watching YouTube videos all night.”

“Okay. Thank you, Prince Charming.” She said with a curtsey.

He laughed and bowed. “Anything for you, Princess.”

***

Once again, Marinette found it impossible to focus in class. She spent the rest of the school day daydreaming of blond boys in disguise.

Nothing made sense anymore. Her heart felt like it was being stretched to opposite sides of the earth, and she didn’t know what to do.

Once school was finally over, she and Adrien made their way over to the bakery. They spent the next several hours carrying various items over to the venue. By the time they were finished, they were sweating and laughing. She never wanted their time together to end.

When Adrien finally left, Marinette sat alone with her thoughts. She did her best to focus on something other than her troubled heart, but memories of the time she spent with each boy continued to dance through her mind. She tried distracting herself by designing, watching videos, and working on homework, but nothing she did was able to calm her down. She felt restless.

Marinette climbed onto her balcony and allowed the cool breeze to caress her face. She closed her eyes and attempted to sort out her thoughts.

The time she’d spent with Adrien today was like a dream come true. It was everything that she’d ever wanted, and it seemed like he was starting to think of her as more than just a friend. At the same time, today made her realize that there were still so many things that she didn’t know about Adrien. It was as if there was a part of himself that he kept hidden from the world. The thought of getting to know that side of him excited her.

As her mind began to picture what a relationship with Adrien would look like, her thoughts wandered to Chat Noir. Last night had been proof that her love for him had always existed, and there was no question that he was deeply in love with her. However, she also knew that their job as superheroes would get in the way of them having a real relationship with each other.

“If only I knew Chat as a civilian, Tikki. That would make all of this so much easier,” she said, looking out at the Parisian skyline.

The tiny red being landed on Marinette’s shoulder. “Well, as the Guardian, you are more than welcome to…”

“Wait!” she exclaimed, cutting off her Kwami, “I think I hear something.”

Marinette closed her eyes and could just make out the faint sound of a piano playing in the distance. When her eyes landed on the park, she saw light pouring out of the gazebo in the middle of the venue.

“It’s Chat,” she whispered, “He came back, Tikki. I have to go see him!”

The kwami giggled. “Then go!”

“Tikki, SPOTS ON!” she yelled, letting the bright pink light wash over her.

She quickly unsheathed her yo-yo and swung down to the park. She landed inside the fenced-off area and quietly made her way to the gazebo. When she reached the decorated entranceway, she found Chat Noir playing the same song he’d played for her the night before.

“Hello, Chat.” She sat down next to him on the bench.

He stopped playing. “Good evening, Ladybug. It’s not a patrol night. Any purr-ticular reason you’re here?”

“I’ve had an interesting day, and I heard you playing. I was hoping you would let me listen to your song again.”

“Anything for you, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

He positioned his fingers on the keys, paused, and looked up. “Actually, I was wondering if you would indulge me for a moment.”

She nodded. “Uhh...sure?”

“There are words to the song, and I was hoping you would let me sing them for you.”

“You mean, it’s not just the melody?”

“Is it okay if I sing?”

“Oh, yes, I would love to hear the words.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, and he simply smiled and turned his attention towards the keys. When he played the first chord, her heart soared.

And then he began to sing.

“Can't say how the days will unfold,

Can't change what the future may hold.

But, I want you in it.

Every hour, every minute.”

Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. She could feel the ache in his heart, and she suddenly longed to hold him and never let him go.

“This world can race by far too fast.

Hard to see while it's all flying past,

But it's clear now,

When you're standing here now.

I am meant to be wherever you are next to me.”

The depth of his love struck her soul. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

“All I want to do

Is come running home to you,

Come running home to you.

And all my life I promise to

Keep running home to you.

Keep running home

To you.”

She tried to picture a relationship with Chat in their civilian lives. Ladybug did her best to remove the mask from his face, but to her despair, Adrien’s face popped into her mind, reminding her of the decision she had to make.

“And I could see it,

Right from the start,

Right from the start.

That you would be

Be my light in the dark,

Light in the dark.

Oh, you gave me no other choice

But to love you.”

She was hopelessly in love with both of them, and she had no idea what to do. Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

“All I want to do

Is come running home to you,

Come running home to you.

And all my life I promise to

Keep running home to you,

Keep running home,

Home to you.

Can't say how the days will unfold.

Can't change what the future may hold.

But, I want you in it,

Every hour, every minute.”

When the last note faded away, they sat in a comfortable silence. They didn’t move or speak for several minutes.

She sniffled. “Thank you, Chaton.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Thank you for letting me sing.”

“It was beautiful.” She got off of the piano bench and clutched her yo-yo in her hands. “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow for patrol.”

Chat kept his eyes glued on the keys. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady.”

She threw her yo-yo and vaulted into the night. When she landed on her balcony, she detransformed, collapsed into a heap, and sobbed.

“Why couldn’t they be the same person?” she thought, before a pair of strong, familiar arms gently wrapped themselves around her.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #my fic #Meant To Be #Chapter 4 #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #fluff #your voice #adrienette #ladynoir #so much fluff #they are oblivious beans #they'll figure it out #fanfiction #ao3 #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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theshinsun · 4 years

Note

A-Z for honesty hour because I'm an asshole. :D

A - If I’m in love.

...yes. I never thought I would be again, I thought I’d been too hurt and jaded to feel this way again, but against all odds, I’m back to being 17 in full force.

B - Who the last person I talked to on the phone was.

The only one who ever calls me is my mother. And customers at work.

C - How long it’s been since I’ve kissed.

damn, almost a year now… not since my last relationship ended back in October-ish. even then, it was mostly casual pecks idk if we ever seriously made out tbh.

D - If I have a preference for boys or girls.

already answered (twice) but I'll keep going… I've got a definite preference of guys over girls, but I'm also a bi disaster and sometimes it doesn't make a lot of sense why this person is instantly attractive to me while that person isn't. certain aspects of femininity do appeal to me, but weirdly other aspects seem to be a turn-off and I can't always put my finger on what or why. ...that caveat does not apply to masculinity though, even if it's traditionally "masculine" features on a feminine-presenting individual I am 100% down every time.

E - How many holes I have in my ears.

two and a half? I got a third piercing at some point halfway up the lobe but it got infected and scarred over I think. the holes I do have are also stretched (I'm up to 0G now) and I've been meaning to get some more.

F - Give me any options, like ‘hot or cold?’

wasn't given any options, so I guess I'll go with hot or cold lol. I prefer hot, I'm one of those weirdos who loves summer because of the heat and I'll usually take a hot food/drink over a cold one.

G - The last person I said ‘I love you’ to.

my mom, over the phone just now.

H - The last person I hugged.

my roommate. we're not always super touchy-feely with each other but I've been feeling kind of down and she noticed.

I - The last time I felt jealous, and why.

I'm not usually a very jealous person, but the last time I really felt that way… I'd recently broken up with my ex, and they were sitting on someone else's lap and I… felt things. part of the reason I realized I may have made a mistake.

J - Are you insecure. What about?

K - What my full name is

already answered, my first and middle are Jacob Brooks, I'm not putting my last name out there sorry I don't trust like that.

L - If I have siblings.

already answered, I've got two, an older brother and a younger sister.

M - If I forgive betrayal.

I mean, I forgive but I don't forget, ya know? like I'll accept an apology if it's sincere and welcome the person back and never bring it up again, but I'm probably gonna be cautious around them in the future, and not trust them as readily as I would have before.

N - If you want to know how I treat my friends.

if I call someone my friend it means I really feel close with them, and I treat my friends basically like my family. I try to always be honest and supportive of them, bc I love and appreciate them and just want them to be happy.

O - If I like my school.

I love my school. the campus is beautiful, the teachers are fantastic, and I just love being there and learning and growing in my classes. I'm really sad this semester is probably going to be mostly online because I really feel like I belong in those studios and on that campus and I miss it.

P - What kind of music I like.

already answered, and it mostly boiled down to all over the fuckin place, so this time… band recommendations, here we go. no you have no say in this.

here, have a clump of random favorite bands off the top of my head: mother mother, bad suns, nothing but thieves, hozier, shearwater, the neighbourhood, steam powered giraffe, rainbow kitten surprise, the oh hellos, gregory alan isakov, caravan palace, mystery skulls, khai dreams, autoheart, muse, silversun pickups, thousand foot krutch, two door cinema club, twenty one pilots, blue october, jukebox the ghost

Q - What the last party I went to was, and when the next will be.

I'm not a partier at All, but I did have a bunch of friends over for the 4th (okay I say a bunch but it was like four people from our usual less-socially distant circle). I have no idea when the next get-together will be, it's kinda hard to plan those kinds of things lately.

R - For me to tell 10 of my curiosities.

the phrasing of this question is weird but I'm gonna assume it means things I'm curious about? let's go with that.

travel. I haven't ever been out of the country and I'd like to see other parts of the world at least at some point in my life.

tattoos. both getting them and learning to do them, it's a niche branch of art that I'm just fascinated by and I might like to do it as a career if I knew more about it.

same thing with being a florist. I'm really drawn to it as a concept and I'm super curious how it works, but I have no idea what kind of… qualifications and whatnot I'd need for that.

surfing. I'm surrounded by the lifestyle and now kind of own a surfboard, I just want to know what the appeal is.

this may be a bit tmi, but I'm really curious what it's like to have a dick. I don't suppose I'll strictly ever know, but I still really want to… probably one of the biggest things to clue me in that I'm definitely trans is the literal penis envy ngl.

I've always kind of had a fascination with the ocean, and I'd love to go like, scuba diving or something someday, to see it up close and personal.

I think everyone has the impulse thought of shaving their head at some point. maybe someday I will I don't quite have the balls to do it now.

I've gone this long in my life and never wielded a sword? a travesty. I don't pretend to have the grace to actually know how to use one, but I've like, never even held a real one and the idea interests me a lot.

this one might be slightly morbid curiosity, but I don't think I've ever been like, properly drunk or high before, like I've been tipsy but I've never been wasted, you know? the idea kind of scares me and I don't think I'm going to go out and remedy it, but it's still there, and even if I know it's not a good idea, I do still wonder what that's like.

same vein, maybe even a little darker, but I've got at least a little morbid curiosity about like, death and real danger. again, not planning to act on it At All, but the thought is still lurking in the back of my mind like what if…? you asked for honesty. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

S - 2 habits.

bit of a new habit, but I have a whole ritual of disinfecting groceries when I bring them home, and then disinfecting the door knobs and counters. I don't know if it'll persist after the pandemic is over, but it's already ingrained in me and I don't feel comfortable if I skip it or do it differently.

I apologize for things that aren't my fault. it's such an instinct at this point to say "sorry" when I'm uncomfortable or anxious that it doesn't even register anymore, even when people tell me not to be sorry, I'm still gonna say it, sorry.

T - 5 things I love unconditionally.

already answered so here's 5 more

my family. if I haven't got my family I haven't got anything, we've got each others' backs and I won't turn on them for anything

my friends. same deal, I owe so much to my friends, I love them, and that won't change no matter what they decide to do or be.

sleep. I love sleep so much, even if it's just an involuntary nap, though for someone who loves it so much I sure don't get enough of it

spotify. I know it has problems, I know there are probably more streamlined/cheaper music streaming services out there, but at this point, I've sunk too much of my time and energy into this one and I'll never give it up

my ocs. I don't talk about them very much on this platform, but I have them, they're my children, and I love them even if they're assholes and never easy to write/draw.

U - How many texts I send daily.

already answered, the number varies, and sometimes swings drastically between like, 5 and 35 on any given day.

V - 3 big dreams.

graduate art school. it's gonna be a serious undertaking and probably take several more years and a lot of loans at this point, but I'm still determined to get there someday.

someday I want to write a book. I know I've said that before on a different prompt, but it wouldn't be a list of dreams without including this one that I've held onto since childhood.

this one's kind of vague, but someday… I want to not be afraid anymore. like I want to finally be in a state of mental/financial security so I can live my life without the fear of what's coming next.

W - An idol.

it's probably really basic to list a youtuber, but I've still gotta go with Chase Ross. the guy was an inspiration and a major source of information and support for me early-on in my transition, and even watching him now I still want to approach life with the pure positive energy and confidence that he has.

X - If I’ve done something I regret very much.

yes. a couple things, really… some of which I don't think I'll ever be able to make up for.

Y - If I like my town and why.

my current town? yeah, it's got its problems but it's also beautiful and full of life and art and unique energy and I miss the days before the Corona End Times when I could actually go out and enjoy it.

Z - Ask any question you want.

??? I did not receive any specification for this one, and given that I didn't skip even the duplicate answers and this is ridiculously long, this one I'm gonna SKIP.

#shin speaks #answered #finally getting to this a million years later #thanks friend!!#i'll get to the other prompts in a second but i felt bad about not finishing this one #tw death mention #tw alcohol mention #just to be safe

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thattimdrakeguy · 4 years

Text

I like the current Teen Titans.

I been reading the latest issues of Teen Titans just out of curiosity, and I actually quite like them.

Since the first two issues of Teen Titans Rebirth were some of the worst comic issues I’ve ever read in my entire life. I mostly avoided Damian’s Teen Titans, including a team that’s actually his with friends of his own, but now that I’ve read a few issues of the latest ones. I actually really enjoyed them, mostly.

It’s nothing I’d pick up every month, because edgy stuff isn’t my tastes, but I appreciate how they have the characters actually react like how they would around Damian, and don’t force Damian to be out of characters every several moments just so he can be more “likable” or what ever they try that for.

(This is the most exaggerated case of it for reference. This comes during a big issue. It isn’t always this bad, so don’t worry. I mostly just thought the dramatic finger point mixed with Damian in chains and the bad art was really funny.)

To me it actually makes it more enjoyable, believable, and therefore easier to read because it doesn’t feel contrived half the time to force moments to happen rather than just making the moments what would happen.

Even if large chunks of the fandom (and certain DC writers) want to pretend otherwise, Damian is a violent edgy character.

The other day I reread those two issues in Superman were the Super Sons first met, just to see if I remembered it accurately, and it was so bad.

(I’m aware I talk bad about Super Sons a lot, but to really get why I like Teen Titans the way I do it needs context.)

Damian kidnapped and chemically sedated Jon so much he was practically temporarily paralyzed, he was going to let Jon fall off a mountain when he knew he couldn’t fly, and even swung an axe at Jon’s face.

Like if you don’t think that’s horrible stuff, you may be insane. Superman at first even reacts appropriately by being steaming pissed.

Then though, they just quickly ignore that to make a forced short joke that doesn’t actually make sense because Damian was never that short for his age before. They literally just randomly at times pretend otherwise because they want to deprecate him a bit to trick the audience into thinking he’s a cuter character.

Jon was literally horrified and beaten down a few moments ago. Besides his powers, he still has the personality of a normal 10 year old kid. A normal kid wouldn’t forget what just happened to him like it was nothing.

That happens right after Damian kidnapped and temporally chemically paralyzed Jon. Jon was horrified, why pretend he wasn’t all of a sudden?

After that they have Damian show Jon his animals. Something that’s just there to pander to that part of the fandom that regresses Damian into just an animal lover, even though Damian most likely wouldn’t suddenly talk about his animals to a person he considers to be a threat so bad that he actually kidnapped him to do experiments on him.

Why are they pretending Damian didn’t just kidnap and chemically paralyze Jon? Fiction is suppose to follow basic human logic, this doesn’t do that at all.

Damian even mocks Jon’s PTSD for that time Jon lost controlled and killed the family cat. Causing Jon to punch Damian in the gut, an understandable reaction, and then the parents come in (also understandably so), but then they play it like it’s comedic?

They play it as if they got caught sneaking out after bed time. Instead of getting into a full on highly physical fight because Damian Wayne brought up Jon Kent’s traumatic experience solely to mock him. That’s horrendous writing. It doesn’t follow the logic of human people at all. Or even the set up, because there’s no joke, but look at that last panel. Out of context, would you think what had just happened happened? Or would you expect something much more lighthearted instead?

Continuously they always just ignored stuff, or played Damian so out of character because they were afraid of him being unlikable.

ACKNOWLEDGE WHAT’S ACTUALLY GOING ON. Damian is punching Jon to the ground so he can use a sharp bladed axe against him as a weapon. This isn’t a “oh, kids will be kids” scuffle, the actual event is a life threatening altercation.

Stop trying to play these horrible things Damian does for comedy, and just ignoring basic human logic to force in humor were it doesn’t belong.

To do something like that is genuinely bad writing. It’s contrived and doesn’t let any of the character’s feel authentic, because they’re ignoring the blatant obvious in front of them.

(For context, this panel happens right before Damian swings a bladed weapon at Jon, but irregardless of that-)

-Damian didn’t truly develop as a character to warrant this. He’s clearly still a bad person to Jon. Why in the world would they be acting like this? He was still going to let Jon fall off a cliff earlier that day, and it’s also still blatantly ignoring Damian kidnapping and chemically paralyzing Jon in favor of pretending things are cuter and softer than the truth.

In the middle of the issue they shoved in this panel against it’s will.

It’s so out of place to me, because it doesn’t match up with anything build up at all, and doesn’t even match up with what happened after. They don’t like each other. Damian has constantly done massively horrible things to Jon.

Damian practically abuses Jon over the course over the entire day, and they have the gall, to force in some awful symbolism that “aww they’re going to get along”. It doesn’t match the characters, realistically that’ll never happen, it doesn’t even match the story they’ve told so far.

They clearly wanted this moment to be good and heart warming, but it just doesn’t work because it doesn’t blend with anything. It’s painfully contrived because it doesn’t work on any level at all.

The thing to me is though, you aren’t suppose to read Damian because you find him likable as a personality, you’re supposed to find him unique and interesting. How he’s unique is what’s suppose to make people like him as a character.

In Teen Titans lately it’s often that Damian gets crap for what he does, and they don’t suddenly cower out of it because they’re scared of him being unlikable. They just embrace who Damian is and it’s super refreshing.

See how they actually react like how they would instead of just ignoring it?

Almost the entirety of issue 34 is people calling out Damian for his personality and methods. They don’t just skim over it, and they don’t force in pandering garbage just to get some easy-bake points to hide their crummy writing.

They go for it, instead of holding back because they’re afraid of how Damian’s character may come off when he’s actually himself.

Instead of ignoring the obvious like so many pasts occasions with Damian, it’s actually treating these character’s like they’re real people and allowing them to react as they truly would in these situations depending on their various personalities.

Damian in Teen Titans actually acts like Damian, and people finally react to him like he’s actually done the stuff he’s done when they find out about his secret prison.

There isn’t constant Al Ghul flashbacks to excuse Damian’s behavior or woobify him more. If a character thinks Damian did a bad thing, they think he did a bad thing.

Some of them are bluntly aware that Damian is doing things a bad guy would do, and like a bad guy they don’t constantly go back to their origin like they should ignore his actions. The character’s are instead actually character’s that have character to them instead of having the brakes pulled on them all the time because the writer worried too much.

When ever a character backs Damian up or not it creates a character conflict instead of seeming forced or contrived.

I think this Teen Titans is actually what Damian needs, because it feels like the writer understands who Damian is, without being afraid of how Damian is.

They even have moments were you gotta wonder if Damian is sincere or not. Creating a intrigue around his character. Were it actually uses his character traits for some interesting moments and fascination.

Is he telling the truth?

It’s so much more satisfying of a read, when character’s act like themselves and things get reacted to as so.

They don’t have to constantly fake anything, or have a character act out of character when they do something to get what they want, because what they want is a naturally developing story.

You can argue that Damian goes farther than were Damian would go, but he’s always struggled with what’s right or wrong. It’s one of the main point of the character. He would do some messed up stuff if he thought it was the right thing. He isn’t a villain anymore, but anti-heroes do exist, and Damian, while I don’t believe he directly kills anyone, still falls under that territory, and he fits there magnificently.

It’s super edgy, and I’m not even a fan of edgy stuff naturally, but I think too many people in this part of the fandom connect edgy with bad, when that isn’t really the case. While it shouldn’t be the industry standard, the tone is simply what fits the character. Damian is an incredibly edgy character, and therefore this tone fits perfectly, because you don’t have to shove him into a round hole when he’s square, he’s square and this is the edgy square hole he belongs in, and it’s okay. Being edgy doesn’t make him or this comic bad.

The edginess is almost what makes it work since it’s the tone Damian as a natural character has.

Some people I’ve seen has said stuff like, “I don’t like Damian in Teen Titans, he’s much more likable in Super Sons or Detective Comics” and I just think they miss the point of Damian’ character.

To me, the standard should be writers writing the character’s to be in character. If Damian in a comic that treats him like himself makes you not like him, you should just not like him. Which is a weird way to put it, but DC’s incapability to get writers that care has caused situations like this that should have never been. It’s making it more difficult for fans to know if they like a character or not because sometimes the character comes off totally different under a worse writer.

The worst part of Teen Titans is the super ugly art style, Damian still being Robin, because honestly there’s no reason at all for him to be Robin, I understand he’s still young but from a character and story perspective he’s just better off not being Robin quite frankly, and Djinn being in a romance with Damian (I think?) and a crush for (this is her name) Crush. Seeing how she’s 4 thousand years old, and it’s seriously creepy that they’re trying to use a 4 thousand year old genie for an at least implied romance with teenagers.

It’s not the best comic ever, and most of the character’s won’t stick with me, but I appreciate it as a comic for Damian. It’s what he needs honestly.

I wouldn’t even classify it even close to the best Titans, but it’s me appreciating that the comic actually does it’s job.

#DC Comics #Superman #Teen Titans #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Clark Kent #I don't wanna type all their names cuz it's negative in some spots #Bat-Family #Bat-Fam #BatFamily #BatFam

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kevin-coleman · 4 years

Text

Momentum

I’m one of those people who considers himself a “writer”, but has spent most of his life not writing. How can I live with that hypocrisy, you wonder? I wonder that myself.

One of the things I always found hard as a “writer” was building momentum. A person’s gotta eat, right? A person’s gotta pay the rent, make the car payment, make the credit card payment, so on and so forth. A person lets life get in the way of the thing he or she wants to do more any anything else, but needle still swings North because the thing you were created to do never leaves you alone. Giving in to it helps.

Walking down hill is way easier that walking up.

Even though writing often feels like walking uphill, sometimes barefoot over gravel, giving in to the impulse is the path of least resistance. I’ve been doing that more and more lately, making the right decision and spending at least an hour, sometimes two or three, at the computer working on a scene or a backstory or whatever. Do that a few times a week and it’s enough to build up some momentum. With momentum comes inertia in the form of satisfaction and accomplishment, which feeds the excitement to go back to desk, back to the keyboard, even the notebook. The inertia builds. It’s hard work, but it’s worth it.

Many years ago, while working on one of my failed novels, I found this quote and it resonated with me.

All good writing is built one good line at a time. You build a novel the same way you do a pyramid. One word, one stone at a time, underneath a full moon while the fingers bleed. - Kate Braverman

At the time the work was too hard and I couldn’t do it, or at least that’s the lie I made myself believe while I carried on with my job, my pub visits, my nights of too much whiskey. It was too hard, so why bother. No one will ever read this stuff, so why bother?

I’m going to be 48 soon, edging ever closer to it every day, and the most important thing I’ve learned about being a “writer” is that it’s all true: it is hard and maybe nobody will read any of it, but it’s what I do and I care. I feel most like myself when I’m here writing something, anything, but especially when I’m telling a story. I don’t kid myself that I’m any good at it. I’m like an art student at my easel struggling, with my feeble skill, to make a copy of Caravaggio’s The Taking of Christ. It’s not even a passable copy of the master’s work, but I feel like I’m making progress. I feel like I’m making my way home.

If I can feel that way, after all these stagnant years, so can you. So keep going. Keep following that compass needle wherever it may lead.

Don’t give up.

Photo by Supushpitha Atapattu from Pexels

#writers on tumblr #my life #my writing #writers #writing #always keep fighting #encouragement #don't give up

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enchantedamusedslightlyconfused · 4 years

Text

73 questions.

I was tagged by @wescoasts @machine-gun-casie (BABES)

Almost all my friends have been tagged and I don't wanna be that asshole so ill try not to be. I tag @awkwardrocker @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @trixiehoe @she-who-is-timey-wimey

On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?

Well it’s finals week so about -864. After that I have two weeks of legitimate nothing where I will bake my heart out so we’ll see

Describe yourself in a hashtag?

#yikes #ughshesinherfeelsagain

If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?

Milo Ventimiglia, Kells, Rook.....being a music video love interest is only my life’s pipe dream

If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?

And that’s on daddy issues and no supervision...

What’s one thing people don’t know about you?

I used to model like went to modeling school and got paid for it type shit

What’s your wakeup ritual?

get woken up by my dog tired of hearing my alarm, walk said opinionated quadruped, feed quadruped, get dressed, COFFEE, then take life as it comes

What’s your go to bed ritual?

melatonin gummies (gotta make anxiety fun), skincare when executive dysfunction will allow, brush teeth, fight dog for my spot in bed (moving a 90lb animal is no joke), turn on my sleep playlist or use my ambient noise app, stare at ceiling

What’s your favorite time of day?

witching hour followed by golden hour

Your go to for having a good laugh?

lately tiktok and Kellyvisions, previously vine compilations or Netflix specials

Dream country to visit?

Ireland. I NEED to go to the motherland. My families castle is still standing and I get in for free. its on my bucket list FOR SURE.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?

getting into nursing school and chiropractic school. I’m a loser and I’ve never had a surprise party. I’d melt in puddle of love tbh

Heels or flats/sneakers?

Flats 98% of the time. Heels are reserved for business casual necessity, Halloween, or if I’m feeling myself

Vintage or new?

both, depends on the item

Who do you want to write your obituary?

Amy-Sherman Palladino

Style icon?

lmao a what? on the real though catch me fucking with those eco-friendly kitchen witch vibes. All the dainty jewelry, linens and converse/docks fam

What are three things you can’t live without?

my dog, my family (found and blood), healing people however I can (medicine ruined me for any other career and its sucks you guys)

What’s one ingredient you put in everything?

tbh salt, I question a recipes validity if salt isn't involved

What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?

Kells and the band (I'd be too nervous for a one on one), a dinner party with my MGK fam, Elvis

What’s your biggest fear in life?

Failure, not accomplishing anything

Window or aisle seat?

window all day everyday, on the wing preferably cause I like to feel the landing gear #pilotsgranddaughter

What’s your current TV obsession?

Roadies forever, pry that series from my cold dead hands (also Gilmore Girls and Criminal Minds)

Favorite app?

tie between Tumblr and Pinterest (im an aesthetic slut)

Secret talent?

I am bomb at disney princess songs, the girls I babysit for treat me like a jukebox at bedtime, cutest thing ever

Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?

delivered a baby has hands down been the coolest thing I’ve ever done

How would you define yourself in three words?

I fucking hate this question. always have. empathetic, resilient, intuitive

Favourite piece of clothing you own?

overall: my senior prom dress. its emerald green, backless, with a slit to upper thigh chefs kiss

everyday wear: Colorado sweatshirt

Must have clothing item everyone should have?

I second Jude: over sized hoodies

Superpower you would want?

nonspecific healing powers so they aren't limited to physical ailments

What’s inspiring you in life right now?

Colson

Best piece of advice you’ve received?

HA. probably that the body remembers more about trauma than the mind and your seemingly irrational physical reactions to things are your brain’s attempt to protect you

Best advice you’d give your teenage self?

his mistake does not define your worth. I went for a variant of these boys aint shit don't judge me cause she needs to hear it

A book that everyone should read?

Harry Potter series (yes the whole thing), Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Giver by Lois Lowry

What would you like to be remembered for?

empathy, the way I made people feel

How do you define beauty?

FOR THE LAST TIME ITS SUBJECTIVE, things that give you peace, it could be a song, a person, a sunset, a scone, a leaf. If it makes you stop a second and exhale then its beautiful to you

What do you love most about your body?

holy trigger question Batman...my eyes, my hair color, texture, and its ability to grow

Best way to take a rest/decompress?

drive with the windows down and blast music while singing at the top of my lungs

Favorite place to view art?

unexpected places, like street corners, carnivals, just somewhere it takes you off guard and makes you stop and pay attention

If your life were a song, what would the title be?

it’d be one of those crazy long 2000s fall out boy titles for sure, subject matter yet to be determined

If you could master one instrument, what would it be?

violin hands down, it hits me different

If you had a tattoo, where would it be?

I have a bunch planned, plane on my right shoulder, Kells related between 3rd and 4th ribs (maybe lower in case I ever need a chest tube), watercolor portrait of my dog at some point location TBD

Dolphins or koalas?

dolphins are stoners and they're super smart, but koalas cause they’re grumpy af and honestly same

What’s your spirit animal?

again Jude and I are vibin: I've been identifying with a phoenix as of late. according to pottermore im a greyhound though (yes a patrons is a wizarding spirit animal. fight me)

Best gift you’ve ever received?

seven year old me was stoked to get a functional microscope and metal detector, I was in my egyptology/archeology phase, I still have them lmao

Best gift you’ve ever given?

oh hell idk...I made my cousin cry once cause I made cupcakes for her birthday party, they were cherry limeade flavored and had little straws and everything. that was pretty cool, granted she was seven. I also made my teacher cry cause I made sea salt caramel chocolate cupcakes for her going away party. I guess my baking brings people to tears

What’s your favourite board game?

candy land, battleship, cards against humanity even though there isn't a board

What’s your favourite colour?

forest green atm

Least favourite colour?

bright yellow/orange, its offensive to my general The Dirt Mick Mars disposition

Diamonds or pearls?

pearls (actually opals though)

Drugstore makeup or designer?

not picky provided they are evironmentally friendly. I really like Besame Cosmetics though

Blow-dry or air-dry?

air-dry, I don't have the patience for blow drying

Pilates or yoga?

yoga

Coffee or tea?

COFFEE, im still learning to like tea

What’s the weirdest word in the English language?

holy shit how much time do we have, my favorite weird word to say is fistula or omphalocele (they're medical conditions, don't goole it unless you have a strong stomach)

Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

dark chocolate

Stairs or elevator?

stairs

Summer or winter?

neither FALL BITCHES winter if I had to pick cause I love Christmas

You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?

burgers

A desert you don’t like?

red velvet cake....just why is it a thing that exists

A skill you’re working on mastering?

baking scones or shit that’s flaky in general

Best thing to happen to you today?

being tagged to do this twice, I felt special for a hot second (thanks babes)

Best compliment you’ve ever received?

that I would make a good doctor (I handled a scary pt situation like a champ, they didn't know I threw up after I made sure my pt didn't die. puking in a foreign country on the download is a skill in and of itself)

Favorite smell?

bergamot, baking bread, baking spice cakes at Christmas

Hugs or kisses?

HUGS CAN SAVE THE WORLD

If you made a documentary, what would it be about?

gifted kid fall off

Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

In These Walls - Machine Gun Kelly

Casual Sabotage - Yungblud

genius assholes...

Lipstick or lip gloss?

lipstick for special occasions but actually tinted chapstick or lip stains

Sweet or savoury?

savory to eat sweet to make for someone else

Girl crush?

Brittney Furlan Lee, Alexis Bledel, Lauren Graham

How you know you’re in love?

you look at them and just say yep. them. usually while they're doing something stupid

Song you can listen to on repeat?

imma out myself but Swing Life Away - Machine Gun Kelly

If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?

the grass is not greener ya’ll. id rather go back and relive days

What are you most excited about at this time in your life?

hopefully passing my first trimester of chiropractic school. fingers crossed pls

#quarantine games #don't come for me people #if you identify with this stuff hit me up #I can always use more quarantine buddies #love and good vibes to you all

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

Text

Hamilton Friends AU | The One With The Engagement

Notes: Okay so this is so late, I beam the craziness f this summer. But a huge Thank you to the ever lovely @aswithasunbeamwho prompted me this perfect Friends episode to write in a Hamilton AU. You’re an amazing soul and I hope you enjoy<3<3

“Your face looks weird.”

“Rude.”

“Just an observation,” Angelica, as appraising and blunt as ever, chides at Alexander with a probing finger to his cheek. In turn alexander just scowls her way and sticks out his tongue for good measure.

“She is correct my friend,” Lafayette, currently trying to balance a fifth book on his head after proclaiming that yes, in fact he is as graceful as any of those fucking Disney princesses, tacks on. “As if your face has gone all goopy permanently.”

“It’s like you’re staring at Eliza even though she’s not here,” Hercules clarifies with a shrug.

“You’re all awful people and I don’t know why I’ve ever agreed to be your friend.” Alexander huffs.

“We’ve gone and made him all sour,” Peggy snorts and Laurens begins to mimic his peeved off expression in-between his own cackles.

“Awful!” Alexander reiterates. “Awful, awful people.”

“Answer the question at hand loser,” Peggy charges on, standing up from the sofa and swinging her weight to her left hip, defiant. “Why do you look so eerily unbothered, so, un-Hamilton like. For Pete’s sake even when you’re happy you look like there’s a hundred different things that are annoying the fuck outta you.”

“Harsh.”

“Accurate.”

“Fine,” Alexander twists his lips in annoyance of getting caught out. “If I tell you lot you better swear on everything you own that you won’t breathe a word.”

“Mysterious,” Laurens leers.

“It is Burr, he has died a most awful death! This is the source of your happiness, no?” Lafayette accuses.

“Ah, erm…. Not quite yet?”

“Well get on with it then,” Angelica scolds with no real heat. “Some of us have actual lives to get too.”

“”Drag race is on tonight and me and Ange have got a bet going.” Peggy explains.

“Which I will win,” Angelica sniffs.

“Fine, fine,” Alexander harrumphs, long acquainted with the larger than life personalities of all the Schuyler sisters, his heart contracting and stomach swooping once thinking of one in particular. Of her long, dark hair, and impossibly bright eyes, and the way her smile makes it feel like Alexander’s floating in midair.

Eliza.

She’s quite literally the most beautiful, brilliant, strong willed and even stronger hearted woman he’s ever known. She’s everything Alexander wishes he was and nothing but wonderful. He knows that, is positive, even if he concedes that she in fact is not an angel sent from the heavens above. Eliza’s not perfect just because Alexander swears she is. He knows that she is a bit of a clean freak, that she can get neurotic if plans aren’t followed through exactly as she had laid out. He knows that she was brought up oblivious to her insane level of wealth and that sometimes it takes full blown arguments for her to speak her mind instead of trying to spare him or anyone else of their feelings. Alexander knows all these small quirks and he doesn’t care because they only make him love her all the more. He loves Eliza more than the sun and stars and all the galaxies above combined, he loves her so much that somedays Alexander thinks his chest might crack with it.

But it never does, and she’s always there, and what they have is everything Alexander has ever wanted, and Eliza is someone who he never thought he could have. All this to say that he has absolutely no doubts in his mind when he pulls out the small velvet box from his trouser’s pocket and opens it to reveal the sparkling engagement ring he’s spent months saving up for.

“wholly fuck,” Peggy balks, scurrying closer to snatch it out of Alexander’s grasp, Angelica right on her coattails.

“No way!” Laurens crowed the same time Lafayette let out a strange, indecipherable squeal that Alexander is almost positive was only partially in French, partially in English and then a hodgepodge of other languages he’s never even heard before— all the books cascading down to the wooden floors in a crescendo of thuds.

For his part, Hercules just begins to tear up with a stiff lip and quivering hands. “Get the hell outta here.”

“You guys don’t like it,” Alexander asks with a shit eating grin.

“Don’t be cheeky dork,” Angelica reproves, never taking her eyes off the ring, swatting at Peggy to give her a chance to hold it.

“Don’t speak that way to your future brother-in-law,” Laurens snickers, claps Alexander on the back with an encouraging hug. “I’m so proud of you Ham, you’ve finally found the one.”

Alexander gives his oldest friend— the man he once thought would’ve been his forever if they hadn’t had such contradictory views on what that meant— a watery smile. “thank you Laurens, but don’t get too excited, Betsey’s still gotta say yes.”

“She’s crazy about you,” Peggy says airily, waving off his worries with a lazy hand. “Of course she’s gonna say yes.”

Alexander bites down on a smile, casts his gaze to the floor so to hide his reddening cheeks. He’s still in such disbelief that this is his life. He’s got the world’s greatest friends, an amazing job that he actually enjoys, and now he might actually get to keep the dream girl. So far away from the lonesome days and hard nights of St Croix. Far away from dying mothers and flighty fathers and cruel brothers who never bothered to keep in touch. This, right here, these people, Eliza, the Washingtons, hell even Burr on a good day… They’re his family, the people he’d die for and who he’s sure would die for him too. What a strange feeling that is, to love and be loved. How strange it is that he gets to keep this sense of belonging, of balance.

“God, now enough with the sappiness,” Peggy gripes. “I can see it on your face Hamilton, and just because you’re technically my brother now doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass if I feel like it.”

“Charming,” Alexander deadpans.

“I thought so,” Peggy says with a magnanimous grin.

“So what’s the plan? How are you gonna pop the question?” Hercules interjects from where he’s now examining the rose gold band and round cut diamond accented with sapphires.

“I was planning to take her to that really posh French restaurant near fifth avenue that Laf showed us. Bets loves hearing me speak French,” he explains with a wink.

“My people’s language does arouse a certain, how do you say, sultry emotion.” Lafayette leers.

“For the love of God stop talking about having sex with my baby sister.”

“Right, ahem.” Alexander concedes. “Well after that I was gonna order us a bottle of her favorite, ridiculously priced champaign.”

“We use to drink it when we’d summer in our villa in the South of France,” Peggy explains, totally impervious to how fantastical that sounds to Alexander.

“Friends with too many rich people,” Hercules mutters morosely, handing the ring off to Lafayette, face scrunched up in displeasure all the while.

“Do not hate us for our good fortunes mon grand,” Lafayette sniffs. “Especially now that Alexander is considered part of our lot after he and Eliza’s inevitable union. One that is written in the stars mind you.”

“What’s written in the stars?”

Alexander’s heart stutters to a rapid staccato just as soon as he sees the door to the apartment swing open, revealing a disheveled, but radiant Eliza strolling through, one perfectly manicured brow kinked.

Before Alexander can take a breath, Lafayette impulsively stuck the ring— the symbol of his undying love and eternal devotion to Eliza— into his fucking French, snail eating mouth.

“Gross,” he hisses, to which Lafayette just tossed him the bird.

“Ah, the fact that Thundermist is totally beating Vivian October tonight,” Peggy blurts out in a totally high pitched voice. Jesus fucking Christ half of them work in politics and the other half are lawyers, save for Hercules whom’s perfectly content as the head of Ralph Lauren merchandize. But still, Alexander expected that they’d all be better at lying than this pathetic display!

He’s subsequently shown up the moment Eliza flickers her gaze towards him, a knowing smile blooming across her face that makes Alexander’s heart ache with want. He supposes it’s more the person who they’re all lying to rather than the act itself.

“You and Ange need to stop making everything a competition love, it’s teetering on ridiculous.” She toots, tosses her and Alexander’s mail to the counter before excepting the peck he can’t help but offer her.

“You know how daddy is with his horses,” Angelica argues. “It’s in our blood.”

That just makes Eliza role her eyes, totally fond, before she excuses herself to change out of her pencil skirt and red bottom heals.

“Hey is there paint on your top?” Laurens asks, brows furrowed.

“Oh yeah,” Eliza blushes. “The kids had arts and crafts today at the orphanage and wanted me to help out so I just set all the paperwork to be done tomorrow instead.”

“THat’s my top!” Angelica squawks, affronted.

“It’ll come out,” Eliza shoos her off with a lofty tip to her head.

Once she’s shut the door on her to change, Alexander cuffs Lafayette on the back, hard.

“This is the love you show me after I successfully kept your little romantic gesture a secret,” he harrumphs.

“Now I’ve got your French cooties all over it!” Alexander hisses.

“Many a men and women would have died to get my delightful French saliva within a ten mile radius of them.”

“We really need to talk about your ego one of these days,” Peggy snorts.

“I have Adrien as my wife and you lot are blunders in love, I shall not permit any judgment from any of you.”

“Hey, I’ll be joining you in that marital bliss soon enough,” Alexander contends, totally giddy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Gross,” the remainder chorus in varying degrees of exasperation, dosed in pride.

Alexander’s really never had the best luck, most especially when it was the romantic sort. Before Eliza he’s never had a relationship that lasted over six consecutive months, or one that he didn’t constantly feel as if he had to garnish a facade of brilliance and magnetism that he’s never truly felt he had any right to own. Before Eliza Alexander never was able to picture himself settling into the domestic sphere quite so willingly. Never thought he would’ve yearned for quiet Sunday mornings in bed where Eliza’s head was propped up on his chest, and the early morning light would cascade atop her cheekbones and lips and glimmer in her hair. Those mornings where all Alexander could focus on was counting the quiet breaths she would let out and plotting out all the ways he could always make her look so at peace and lovely. Alexander never thought he would ever want the house in the suburbs with a large yard and rose gardens and everything his mother had tried to give him when she was still here. Alexander never had wanted it until Eliza came and he realized he could have it with her.

He remembers one particularly pitiful night towards the end of L2 when he had just cut ties with Cornelia Lotts because he had woken up that morning and had just not found her as interesting as the night before, which obviously meant he had drunken himself silly at some sleazy bar and tried picking up someone knew, just for the fun of it. Instead he was met by Angelica’s expectant, irritated glower once he was three drinks in, telling him on no uncertain terms that the reason his love life sucked so hard is because he always went for the obscenely wealthy and tragically pretty folks that always infested ivy league institutions. The same folks with too large egos and too little self worth to ever consider having an actual relationship with someone outside of their social circle— A circle that the Schuyler family were the crown jewels of is what Angelica didn’t have to say but Alexander heard in screaming clarity all the same.

“Fuck you.”

“You wish loser.”

That was when she tugged him by the ear to get out of the city with her for the long weekend to clear his head. When he slept in her family’s country home upstate. When he had stumbled downstairs in the middle of the night to be face to face—for the first time— with the sister he’s seen millions of pictures of and heard even more stories about by a beaming Angelica. The one who had just spent the year after graduating Yale in the peace corps. That was when Alexander’s heart had first swelled and he was a goner.

“Eliza.”

“Yes love,” Eliza smiles up at him through her lashes now, so many years detached from their first meeting. Years composed of unrequited crushes and tentative laughs that morphed into a strong friendship and shy words of sincerity. Eventually leading them to first kisses and first nights and all the in-betweens Alexander’s never gone through with any other relationship. Nothing else felt as vital, as permanent, as the one he shares with Eliza. Nothing else felt like it deserved his efforts in quite the same ways that he’s always known Eliza has. Nothing else has made him experience this distinct sort of want.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she giggles, mouth partially hidden from the lip of the flute of champaign she’s nursing. “Is everything alright deer? You look a little pale.”

Alexander’s throat closes up and he rinses his hands with anticipation.

“Yeah, yes. Everything’s Perfect Bets, it’s been perfect for a while now… Honestly ever since you agreed to actually go out with me. You. You make things perfect.”

Eliza doesn’t answer him in so many words, just cups her hands around hiss face and kisses him nice and thorough. Alexander wonders if how she makes everything inside of him go golden with every press to the lips will ever fade.

He seriously doubts it.

“Now, let me get this out, okay?” Alexander begs, squeezing her hands with his own and kissing the tops of each of her fingers gingerly.

“Oh, Andre.”

Alexander’s heart stills and the breath from his lungs escapes— It feels like something awful and freezing has just clutched his heart and rinsed it dry.

“No, Alex—- I’m Alex.”

That only makes Eliza role her eyes at him before nudging her head to where a ridiculously handsome, obviously well off man stands.

“Oh, yes…. erm that is Andre.”

“Maybe he won’t see us,” Eliza offers before he’s lead directly to the recently vacated spot besides them by a completely oblivious host.

“Maybe he’s blind now?” Alexander says hopefully.

“Lizzy Schuyler is that you?”

Alexander curses every ounce of bad luck he’s somehow accumulated before standing up to exchange awkward pleasantries and spending the remainder of the night refraining himself from knocking Andre/s lights out every time he stares a tad bit too longingly towards Eliza for his liking.

The pampered bastard.

Still inwardly fuming while drinking his morning coffee, Alexander was accosted by someone cuffing him on the back of the head, hard.

He isn’t surprised to turn around and Find a surly looking Angelica glaring at him, hands on her hips and mouth curled in a distinctly predatory fashion.

“What happened last night Hamilton?”

“How do you know something happened?”

“Well when I gushed to look at Liza’s hand this morning, instead of a rock on her finger she just looked at me like I was insane! I had to pretend I wanted to read her palm.”

“So confirming the insanity suspicion then?” He asks owlishly.

“Hamilton!” She says in a hiss.

“I couldn’t do it, okay.” Alexander snaps back, waspish.

“You chickened out,” Angelica accuses, depositing herself on the sofa besides him in the small cafe and snatching the muffin from his hand.

“No.”

“Then what? You changed your mind? My baby sister not good enough for you?” She needles, prickly as he’s ever seen her.

“Don’t be ridiculous Anne.”

“Then wh—“

“Andre showed up,” he blurts with absolutely no tact.

“No fucking way,” Angelica gapes, dropping the aforementioned muffin.

“I’m cursed aren’t I?”

“Kinda,” Angelica consoles with a pout, cradling his head on her shoulder.

“Ah oh, not a good sign.” Hercules observes once taking a seat with his own latte.

“Hamilton’s cursed,” Angelica informs him, matter-of-fact.

“Why this time?”

“Because Eliza’s fucking perfect ex-fiancé somehow showed up last night with his own date and sat there besides us looking all handsome and waxing all poetic and reminiscing about how he and Eliza were caught fucking in her childhood bedroom her sophomore year of college and making her laugh and I couldn’t get a damn word in edgewise!”

“Oh not the thanksgiving story,” Angelica winces.

“So I reckon you didn’t propose?”

“I was gonna do it tonight instead, but thanks to Mis babble mouth over here,” he elbow checks Angelica. “Eliza most definitely suspects something is up now.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that you apparently committed some sort of horrendous crime in a past life.”

“Who asks to look at someone’s hands!” Alexander hurls.

“People who think their sister was just proposed to!” Angelica defends.

“It’s fine you guys, we’ve just gotta throw her off the trail a little. Make her think marriage’s the furthest thing from your mind.” Hercules placates.

“Yeah, yeah Herc, you’re right.” Alexander nods, is thrown to alert the moment the cafe’s bells chime— indicating a new customer— and it’s Eliza’s soft timbre that rings in his ears.

“I swear, I don’t care what Laf says, French people are total weirdos.” She sheds off her jacket and assumes the seat in Alexander’s all too willing lap. “I walk into his place to pick up some papers I left there and the first thing he wants to see is my hand to see if it’s proportionate to his.” With a huff, she grabs the coffee mug from Alexander, face scrunching up adorably at the excessive amount of sugar he always mixes in. Totally oblivious to how his heart is pulsing and his face is infused a bright red.

“Oh— Hah, how weird,” Angelica titters awkwardly.

“Why do you sound so strange Ange?”

“No she doesn’t,” Alexander quickly pipes in.

“Yes…. She does.” Her brows furrow, the smallest dent between her eyes telling Alexander that she’s suspecting something. “What’s going on?”

“We were just reading this article in the New Yorker is all,” Hercules explains, saving all their asses. “It’s making her worry about her relationship with Mr Big.”

“His name’s Church, stop comparing our lives to Sex In The City characters,” Angelica admonishes with no heat.

“Whatever Miranda.”

“So what’s this article that’s got you all frazzled Angelica?” Eliza asks worriedly.

“It’s about marriage,” Alexander answers instead, seeing his opportunity and plunging for it.

“Marriage?”

“Yeah, just about how it’s a total scam. I mean think about it Bets, legally timing yourself to another person? Doesn’t that sound Orwellian to you? A ploy by the government just to get our money and to keep us in check if you ask me.”

Eliza’s frown somehow, impossibly, sinks deeper.

“That’s not what you think Alex, is it?”

“I mean, ah yeah—“ His voice most certainly does not screech like he was a character from Saved By The Bell. “I mean you know me Eliza. I mean marriage didn’t keep my dad around for my mom.”

He can’t believe he just used that card on her. He totally deserves to go to hell for that one.

“It doesn’t always have to end up like that hon.” She cards a hand through his hair, kisses his cheek gingerly. And yeah, eternal damnation here Alexander comes.

“Eliza like 60% of all marriages now days ends in divorce,” Angelica contends. “Can you even name a couple that hasn’t been separated at least once.”

“Our parents,” she sniffs.

“But is it worth taking that chance,” Alexander says, reminds himself of how happy she’ll be tonight after he pops the question, when Eliza shakes off the hand that’s trying to lace their fingers together.

“Yeah, Yeah Alex I do think it’s worth that chance! And you know I do!” She starts to get up now, properly mad. “I mean don’t you guys want to promise yourself to the person you love in front of all your nearest and dearest. Be bound to someone so intimately and permanently. To get to show off your love to the world to see!”

“Sounds kinda selfish to me,” Alexander counters and Hercules and Angelica mumble their agreements.

“Okay,I’m running late for work.” In a cloud of carefully concealed fury, found in the pinch of her shoulders and downturn of her lips, Eliza collects her bag and jacket before storming out. A quiet fury in total opposition to her sisters’ brash words and ear shattering shouts.

Alexander yet again reminds himself of her beaming face when she doesn’t dip down to give him the customary kiss goodbye.

“This’s gonna workout just fine.”

#Hamilton #Hamliza #Eliza Schuyler Hamilton #Alexander Hamilton #Spilled Ink #Friends Meme #aswithasunbeam #SPILT ink #friends AU

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