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alluringjae · 3 years

Text

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

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ga-yuu · 3 years

Text

~Yoshitsune~Main Story Chapter 4~

Warning! This story has strong language and attempted rape.

Chapter 3

------Part 1------

Yoritomo: “Don’t forget I’m a man who killed his own brother.”

I was horrified, but at the same time, I felt like something connected in my head....

(Ah.....!)

-------FLASHBACK------

Yoshitsune: "But...contradictions are in all of us. I've only known one person who could cut it out and throw it away."

-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

(Maybe he was....)

(Wasn't it Yoritomo-sama that Yoshitsune-sama was talking about....?)

Yoritomo: "Well...we're almost done, aren't we? I'll let you know about the job."

Yoshino: "Ah, yes...! Thank you."

I stopped thinking and bowed to Yoritomo-sama.

(At any rate, I think I've moved on a bit, right?)

This is how my new life started changing-----

Kagetoki: "Now, Yoshino. I want you to check and sort those scrolls like how I taught you yesterday."

Yoshino: "Got it!"

(Let's do our best to help today.)

Under Kagetoki-san's direction, who is mainly responsible for the internal affairs of the Shogunate...

For the last few days, I've been doing simple chores such as sorting out paperwork and recording meetings.

(I have to be careful not to make any mistakes, or I'll have to face the wrath of stoic Kagetoki-san!)

I nervously unrolled the scroll on my desk.

The scroll he had given was a record of the number of human resources and provisions needed for the battle against Yoshitsune-sama.

Yoshino: "We need so many rations...."

Kagetoki-san, who was sitting opposite me, reacted to the words I blurted out.

Kagetoki: "Because this war is bigger than ever. We need to scrounge from the ranks and make sure we have plenty."

(And yet, so much detail has been calculated....)

The scrolls also contain a detailed list of the number of soldiers for the supply convoy.

(I can't believe we need so many people just to carry the rations!)

Yoshino: "It's not easy to fight a war, is it?"

Kagetoki: "It's natural. It's not just about fighting. If we run out of food on the way, our men's lives will be in danger. We have to make sure we have the right people and the right routes to get the food to the people, and then we have to work out the tactics. But of course, we also need information about the enemy."

Yoshino: It's like the preparation stage has already started...."

Kagetoki: "Yes. We can't afford any delays or lapses in judgment."

(I see, one wrong move and many lives will be lost...)

Kagetoki-san's words always sound harsh, but when you hear him talk like this, you get a different impression.

(That's how deeply he thinks about the Shogunate, and that's why Kagetoki-san won't compromise.)

Kagetoki: "What's wrong? Why are you staring?"

Yoshino: "No, nothing...I'll call you when I'm done."

I quickly returned to my work.

About a moment later-----

Morinaga: "I see you're working hard, Yoshino."

Tamamo: "I've brought you a reward."

Yoshino: "Oh! Hi Morinaga-san, Tamamo."

(Did you guys come here to check on me...!)

Tamamo and Morinaga-san came to me with a small furoshiki in their hand.

Kagetoki-san kept his gaze fixed on the scroll and said a few words back to them.

Kagetoki: "No food and drinks are allowed in the library."

Tamamo: "Don't be so strict Kagetoki. Look, we went around Kamakura's best shops to buy these sweets."

Yoshino: "You went around Kamakura you buy this, Tamamo?"

Tamamo: "I went to my favorite sweet shops, so I thought I would share some with you."

Yoshino: "You already have favorites!?"

(Not even a week has passed since we arrived in Kamakura.)

Tamamo: "Because it is important to create the ground to live happily. Confectioners, restaurants, dressmakers... Oh, and I've recently made friends in the gambling house."

Yoshino: "Gambling house....?"

(Did you make too many connections this quickly!)

Kagetoki: "You're responsible for that, isn't it? Morinaga. Please refrain from taking questionable creatures to questionable places."

------Part 2------

Kagetoki: "Please refrain from taking questionable creatures to questionable places."

Tamamo: "How dare you call this beautiful nine-tail fox a questionable creature."

Next to the pouting Tamamo, Morinaga-san laughed happily.

Morinaga: "Tamamo is good at betting and it's also fun to hang around with him."

Tamamo: "Don't let his appearance fool you, Yoshino. Morinaga has a bad habit too."

(Morinaga-san loves gambling. That's surprising!)

Kagetoki: "What a troublesome duo."

In a matter-of-fact manner, Kagetoki-san removed the scroll from his desk.

Kagetoki: "I heard you brought sweets, take it out. Yoshino. Let's take a break."

(Hm? I thought you said food and drinks are not allowed in the library.)

Yoshino: "Do you like sweets?"

Tamamo: "It's the height of unexpectedness. I thought you had a spitfire personality."

Kagetoki: "It's not like I have a sweet tooth. Sweets help my brain to work better. It increases my work efficiency."

Yoshino: "That's your reasoning!?"

Kagetoki-san says that with a straight face.

(He's serious. It's so typical of Kagetoki-san...)

Kagetoki: "Let's not waste any more time."

(What's the...!)

He opened the furoshiki to reveal the lovely pile of camellia cakes.

Kagetoki-san piled them up on his plate without a care in the world.

Yoshino: "Isn't that too much?"

Kagetoki: "It's my normal intake."

(.....Then how much do you eat when you're starving?)

Kagetoki: "I stop my work for the moment, so could take in all the sugar at once."

Yoshino: "Errmm??"

Tamamo: "Please leave some for us too."

Tamamo complains as he takes his seat next to Morinaga-san.

Kagetoki: "You're an extravagant fox, aren't you. If you insist I'd be happy to share some of my starch syrup."

Tamamo: "...What am I going to do with your starch syrup?"

Tamamo's eyes narrowed in an unusually wary way.

Kagetoki: "The more you eat it, the more sugary it becomes. The flavors change and you'll never get bored of it."

Yoshino: "So extreme!"

Morinaga: "That's Kagetoki for you."

(Morinaga-san is so generous to put it in those words...)

Tamamo: "Kagetoki, don't you dare ruin my sweets with your starch syrup!"

Just as Tamamo takes out the contents of his furoshiki, we heard someone's footsteps.

Shigehira: "I was wondering why the library is so noisy. It was you guys."

(Shigehira-san!)

Tamamo: "Oh Shigehira. Did you follow the smell?"

Shieghira: "Of course not! I just came to return this book I borrowed..."

Shigehira-san who was holding a book in his hand looked at the desk and his eyes widened.

Shigehira: "...! Mountain of camellia cakes?"

(Nice reaction!)

Morinaga: "That's Kagetoki's plate."

Shigehira: "Yeah....to increase his work efficiency or something."

Kagetoki: "You came at the right time. I'll share some with you too."

Shigehira: "No, I have work, so-----"

Morinaga: "It's okay to take a small break. Come, sit here."

Shigehira: "Ah...!!"

Morinaga-san smiles and puts his hands on Shigehira-san's shoulders and forced him to sit down.

Tamamo: "We have enough sweets for you too."

Morinaga: "Eat as much as you like."

Shigehira: "Don't treat me like a child. Like I said, I only came here to return this book."

With two grown-ups on either side, Shigehira-san sighed as if he had given up.

Then, our eyes meet and he gives me a slightly pouting look.

Shigehira: "Just so you know, I didn't bring any sweets for you."

Yoshino: "No, no, no. I don't mind."

(But I'm happy that you still came....)

Tamamo: "Let's eat."

------Part 3-------

Tamamo: "Let's eat."

Yoshino: "Yes! Thank you for the food."

Tamamo neatly plated the sweets for everyone.

My eyes sparkled seeing the camellia cakes and puff pastry.

(Everything looks delicious!)

When I ate one of the camellia cakes, the gentle sweetness filled my mouth.

Yoshino: "It's really delicious!!"

Kagetoki: "I see. This is from the nearest sweet shop. You can get it from there if you like."

Yoshino: "It's cool how you can easily tell the shop's name just by eating them..."

(So sharp!)

While I was impressed, Tamamo presents me with another plate.

Tamamo: "Here Yoshino, try these too. Made with the finest ingredients, the baker said he had been making these for decades."

Yoshino: "Thanks!"

When I ate mochi-----

Yoshino: "This is so yummy!!!"

Tamamo: "Isn't it? His store makes the finest sweets."

Yoshino: "Hehe...You really love to eat, don't you?"

Tamamo: "Unlike humans, we demons don't need food for nutrition....I just eat for pleasure. The more delicious the food is, the more it will entertain my mouth. Let me take you there next time, Yoshino."

Yoshino: "Really? I'll be looking forward to it."

(I heard so many things about Kamakura and that there are many places to visit.)

Yoshino: "Also...I'm really amazed how you're already used to Kamakura, Tamamo."

Tamamo shook his head when I pouted in jealousy.

Tamamo: "But I heard you are getting along with the soldiers here."

Yoshino: "Eh? What...?"

Morinaga: "That's true. Lately, you have been treating the injured soldiers after their training."

(Of course, it's a part of my work.)

I was surprised and blinked my eyes.

Shigehira: "...I heard that there's usually a fight in the training hall over who gets the treatment first."

Yoshino: "Why is that?"

(I didn't know that at all...!)

Kagetoki: "Such a barren dispute."

Morinaga: "Maybe because it's always been groups of men there and we never had a girl come near the training hall before. Well...since they're so eager to get treated by you, they didn't even mind doing my extra training sessions."

Yoshino: "..Morinaga-san, your smile is a little scary."

(Morinaga-san's training is famous for being unforgiving...though he looks kind.)

Yoshino: "There's only so much I can do to help, and I'm not doing too much."

Tamamo: "But there's been an increase in orders for your medicines in the Imperial Palace, right?"

Yoshino: "That's right, but..."

Thankfully, as I worked in the Imperial Palace, I got to know more people and they started to call me when they needed medicine.

(I'm not going to have my own shop until after I've broken my contract with Tamamo, but...)

(I'm so happy to be able to work as a pharmacist in this way!)

Shigehira: "Also..."

Shigehira-san talks while eating his mochi. (I found a typo here, they wrote 重衡くん(Shigehira-kun) instead of 重衡さん(Shigehira-san) MC doesn't call him Shigehira-kun until much later in the chapters)

Shigehira: "I don't understand how can you overwork like crazy when you have to face an even bigger nightmare, the great war."

Yoshino: "Well, I...."

Shigehira: "I don't get you at all. You have a very nice pharmacist job for a living...then why do you offer yourself to help Kagetoki-san with his work."

Kagetoki: "Unfortunately, I have the tendency to use any resource useful for my work."

Morinaga smiled brightly at Kagetoki-san's remarks.

Morinaga: "Ohh? So you think Yoshino is useful?"

Kagetoki: "Of course."

(Ah....)

I blushed at the unexpected compliment.

(Especially when I first started working, I didn't know what I was doing and I caused a lot of trouble for Kagetoki-san...)

Kagetoki: "She didn't run away after knowing the terrors of war. She's got a lot of guts."

Shigehira and Tamamo: "..............."

Yoshino(blushing): "!!!"

Morinaga: "There are many vassals whose hearts are broken by Kagetoki's harshness."

Kagetoki: "If they're not good at anything, I don't find them worthful."

Tamamo: "Can't you be a bit more proper in your praise?"

Morinaga: "We hoped for the same thing. But it's too much for Kagetoki."

-------Part 4------

Morinaga: "We hoped for the same thing. But it's too much for Kagetoki."

(Yeah...I guess I'll consider it a bit of an acknowledgment.)

Yoshino: "Thank you very much, Kagetoki-san."

Kagetoki: "I don't need to be thanked. I'm going to keep on using you and you're going work hard for me."

Yoshino: "......I'll do my best, so please be gentle."

My heart was feeling warm when I returned the words.

(It would be nice to get to know the people of the Shogunate a little better in this way.)

Even if it's just helping out a little.

It was now beginning to dawn on me that all the samurai were going into battle with conviction.

Shigehira: *munch munch munch*

Tamamo: "Can I ask you something, Shigehira?"

Shigehira: "Hm?"

Tamamo: "You came here to check on Yoshino to make sure that she's not being bullied by Kagetoki, isn't it?"

Shigehira(blushing): "No...I.."

(Really?)

Shigehira: "Ahem, like I said earlier, I came here to return this book. Then, she just happened to be here."

Tamamo: "Really? But I noticed you searching for Yoshino a while ago."

(No way!?)

Shigehira: "You were watching me!?....No, I mean. It was all your imagination."

Morinaga: "Isn't our Shigehira so cute."

Shigehira: "Stop joking! I wasn't----mmf"

(Eeehhh....)

Shigehira-san tried to argue, but Morinaga-san shoved a camellia cake into his mouth.

Morinaga: "Now, be a good boy and eat these sweets."

Shigehira: *munch munch*

With his mouth full, Shigehira-san glanced at Morinaga-san with a pouting look.

Yoshino: "Shigehira-san, are you okay? Here, have some tea."

Shigehira: "...Mm, thanks. Just because you're kind, doesn't mean I approve of you."

Yoshino: "I understand. But...."

(If what Tamamo said was true, I want to thank him for caring about me.)

I turned to Shigehira-san and bowed in gratitude.

Yoshino: "Umm, I'm thankful that you care about me. I took the job at the Imperial Palace for myself, and I haven't achieved any good results yet...But, I'm glad that I've been able to get closer to you all through my work recently!"

Shigehira(blushing): "....Erm well.."

Yoshino: "I really am!"

I can clearly see that Shigehira-san is blushing till his ears were red.

Tamamo: "You're looking like you're having a good time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. I am (+4/+4)

2. Do you think so?

3. Not quite yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoshino: "I am."

(I think I'm starting to think a bit more clearly.)

(I wonder if...now I could give a different answer than before.)

(But......)

Ironically, it was my greatest enemy, Yoshitsune-sama, who gave me the opportunity to change.

(Next time when we meet on the battlefield, I must make up my mind properly before then.)

..........

And so few days goes by-----

Late afternoon, I was walking down the hallway, after finishing my work. Then I saw maids passing by.

Maid 1: "Are you going to the festival, tonight?"

Maid 2: "Of course! My boyfriend asked me out and I'm looking forward to it."

(Festival....Oh yeah! I forgot it was tonight.)

(Since I have nothing much to do, let's go and enjoy the festival.)

..................

(Wow...!!)

I was walking around the streets of Kamakura, listening to the festival music.

Lanterns hung from the eaves and the front of the stalls were crowded with people.

(It's just fun to simply walk around like this.)

(I first thought to bring someone with me....)

------Part 5------

(I first thought to bring someone with me....)

(But I made plans on the spot and others didn't have time...)

(They're all busy preparing for the upcoming war.)

As walked across the busy street, the smell of food from the stalls tickled my nose.

(It's still early in the evening, so I'll buy something. Let's see....)

Then I went to some food stalls and bought some dumplings.

(I'm a bit tired....)

I walked through the crowd and before I knew it, I ended at the back of a shrine.

(I didn't want to fall down and get injured in the big crowd.)

When I was trying to get back to the entrance-----

Wild Samurai 1: "Hey hey, what are you doing here alone?"

Wild samurai 2: "It's the festival night and you're all alone. How about we give you some company?"

(What? Who are these people...?)

Suddenly a rough voice called out to me from the darkness and I was surrounded by several men.

(I can see you guys have swords hanging of your waist....must be some wild samurai...)

Wild samurai 3: "We just arrived in Kamakura and we don't have anyone to play with."

(What should I do...)

Yoshino: "Sorry...But I'm here with someone."

I bowed my head lightly and tried to escape but....

Wild samurai 1: "Come on, there's nothing to be scared of, is there?"

Wild samurai 2: "We wanted to help you since we thought you were lost."

Yoshino: "No, thank you."

One of them roughly grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

Yoshino: "Let go!"

I tried to shake his hands off, but it didn't budge.

Wild samurai 2: "Worry not. We'll be gentle."

Yoshino: "NO! HELP! SOMEONE!!!"

Just when I was about to be dragged behind the bushes----

???: "You're very cruel for taking advantage of festivities to violently attack women."

A quiet voice echoed from somewhere.

(Eh....?)

Wild samurai 1: "Huh? Who the fuck are you?"

The very next moment, a figure jumps from the top of the tree.

???: "Look here."

Yoshino: "Ah----"

Someone pulled my arm and he punched one of the wild samurai right on the chest.

When I was confused and looked up-----

(Is that a fox mask...?)

The mysterious man wearing a fox mask distanced me from the wild samurai and stepped forward to protect me.

Wild samurai 1: "Who are you!?"

???: "You're not worthy of hearing my name."

Wild samurai 2: "Don't fuck with us! That woman is ours!"

Yoshino: "Be careful!"

All of them drew their swords and attacked the mysterious man.

(No....!!)

???: "I promised myself that I won't. But it can't be helped. Now die."

The mysterious man pulled out his own sword, which flashed-----

Wild samurai 1: "Gwaaa...."

Immediately several swords were blown off...

Yoshino: "Wow....."

(Oh!....I remember this ferociousness.)

(Not only that, his voice is so familiar.)

(No way! It can't be...but.)

The mysterious man stepped forward casually as the samurai were jerked back.

Wild samurai 2: "Tch, we'll leave you both for now!"

One of them, who seems to be the leader, raised his voice and the rest of them started following him.

After that, everything became so quiet and the mysterious man turned his back on me.

(No wait, don't go!)

Yoshino: "Umm....Yoshitsune-sama?"

???: "........"

When I called out the name of the mysterious man, he looked back and took off his mask----

Yoshitsune: "How did you find out?"

Chapter 5

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden yoshitsune #ikemen mc #otome #cybird #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #main story translations

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jmeelee · 5 years

Text

Trick or Treat (You look good enough to eat)

Derek didn’t mind working Halloween night. It was notoriously dead (pun intended), lacking the usual pain-in-the-butt patrons, and gave him time to catch up on his year-end book orders. Cindy made him a double batch of her famous salted-caramel brownies as thanks for covering her shift, and proceeded to show him no less than thirty pictures of her one-year-old dressed in a bumblebee costume. “It’s her first time going trick-or-treating,” she said for the umpteenth time. “I’m so grateful I don’t have to miss it.” He hummed politely at the pictures (he liked kids, just, you know, not thirty pictures of the same one) and snatched the proffered plate of caramel-chocolate goodness, mouth already watering.

“Trick or treat, smell my feet. You look good enough to eat.”

At first, Derek thought the statement was directed at him.

The words echoed through the silent, almost-empty library like a tomb. The digital clock in the bottom right corner of his monitor read 5:39 PM. The only other staff working tonight were two elderly clerks clad in sparkly pumpkin sweatshirts and the teenage page who was too old for Halloween but still wore a cat-ear headband.

Derek glanced up from the computer, over the top of his black-rimmed glasses, mouth set in a firm, no-nonsense line. It was his best librarian face, the one he slid on to deal with censorship challenges and patrons who loved to loudly announce, “I’m a taxpayer!” when the movie they wanted to borrow was already checked out. But the guy—tall, wiry, with shaggy brown hair in need of a cut—wasn’t trying to sweet-talk Derek at all.

Shame. He was devilishly handsome, and just Derek’s type.

Instead, cute-guy was buttering up the bowl of candy corn sitting on the circulation desk, next to a festive sign with smiling black bats proclaiming, “Bat-ter take one before they’re gone!” A grin stretched his generous mouth, dimpling into pale cheeks dusted with tiny dark moles. He reached a long-fingered hand into the orange plastic dish.

“I wouldn't do that,” Derek warned, voice soft but commanding.

The patron tore his laser-focused attention away from the sugary treats, large teddy-bear brown eyes going wide when they landed on Derek’s face. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He dropped a single tri-colored kernel back onto the heap, cleared his throat and slowly reeled in his hand. “Oh, uh…sorry? I thought the sign said they were free.”

“They are,” Derek informed him. “But they’ve been sitting here since my shift started at noon, and about a dozen kids have dug through them.” Derek inclined his head and lowered his voice, tone intended to strike terror. “And Dave, too.”

The candy corn caper’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned a little further over the desk. “Is Dave the monster who made you work on Halloween night?”

Derek took great satisfaction watching the guy’s reaction. “No. He’s a regular who always picks his nose.”

“Gross,” the cute guy said, looking at the bowl with a grimace. “These things are terrible, but they’re my favorite and I couldn’t resist. You really did me a solid.”

He stepped away with a sad sigh. Derek found himself not wanting to break the spell, so he added a flippant, “Trust me, you’re better off buying a discount bag in a day or two. Less chance of contracting the plague.”

The guy threw his head back and howled with laughter, the sound liquid and warm, hitting Derek’s veins like a double shot of espresso, giving his heart palpitations. “Well, thanks—“ big brown eyes slid down Derek’s face, his neck, catching on the magnetic name tag clipped to his tan cardigan—“Derek, for saving my life. Unfortunately, there’s no corn-syrupy goodness lurking in my near future.”

He gestures to a young, brown-haired boy bedecked in a DJ Yonder outfit, quietly pulling puzzles out of the activity bin. “I’m Stiles, and that’s my son, Jordan. He has some pretty serious food allergies. I only have partial custody, but I don’t keep anything in my house that might cause a reaction. He’s anaphylactic to most nuts and has celiac disease.” Cute patron—Stiles—shrugged, holding his large hands away from his body in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Hence why we’re visiting the library on Halloween, instead of Trick-or-treating.”

Derek blinked, brain working overtime to absorb the information dump. Cute guy. Lickable moles. Pornographic hands. No ring on his finger. Sweet, well-behaved kid. Single dad.

“You guys didn’t want to hit up some Teal Pumpkin spots?” Derek asked.

Oh. Add adorable nose crinkle to the list. “Some... what?”

Derek spun forty-five degrees in his chair, kicked off the file drawer and rolled to the reference shelf, where he pulled down a green binder.

“Impressive.” Stiles raised an eyebrow as Derek glided back to the desk and stood, opening the binder and handing it to him.

“A lot of people are starting to provide non-food treats for trick-or-treaters since food restrictions are so prevalent. It’s called the Teal Pumpkin Project. You put a teal-colored pumpkin on your porch, and add your house to the online map.” Derek pulled a copy of the local map and an informational brochure out of a laminated sleeve. “This map was printed yesterday morning. You can have it if you want.”

Jordan looked up from his puzzle, eyes hopeful. “Can we go, Dad? Can we?”

Stiles turned toward his son, face softening, and Derek found himself wondering how it would feel to have such unadulterated joy directed at him. “Sure, dude. Let’s give it a shot.” Jordan hooted, fist-pumping the air.

“Thanks again,” Stiles said, waving the map between himself and Derek. “I can’t believe I’d never heard about this. You’re a lifesaver.”

Derek shrugged, half-satisfied at providing excellent customer service, and half-guilty for not wanting Stiles to leave so soon. “That’s what I’m here for, to help you find information.”

“And to protect me from contaminated candy corn.” Stiles winked, and Derek’s stomach swooped like he’d eaten one-too-many brownies. “Not all heroes wear capes. Some wear cardigans.”

“Have fun tonight,” Derek said to both of them in parting. It was the first time in ten years on the job that he didn’t want a reference interview to end. “And be safe.”

Jordan dragged his father toward the automatic doors, and Derek definitely did not lean over and covertly check out Stiles’ retreating back side from behind the staircase to the second floor.

If he hadn’t been paying such close attention, Derek might have missed Stiles halting them at the door with a soft, “Hey bud. I forgot one thing. Wait here for a second.” As Stiles turned and jogged back to the desk, Derek quickly grabbed some loose papers from the desk, shifting them around in his hands and burning holes in them with his eyeballs. Too late he realized one sheet was upside down.

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked, a little breathless.

Derek cleared his throat and laid down the paper armor. “Yeah?”

“I know stuff like this probably happens to you all the time, since you look, you know…” Stiles gestured to Derek’s face and broad, sweater-clad shoulders. “Like that. And I promise I’m not trying to be creepy here, though technically Halloween is the perfect night for creepy-”

“Stiles,” Derek expertly interrupted. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering… I was hoping…” He took a deep breath. “I have to drop Jordan off at his mom’s tonight at 8:30, and if you’re free after work…”

Derek exhaled the manic butterflies tickling his ribs. “You want to go trick-or-treating?”

Stiles blinked, then burst out in a cackle loud enough to rival a witch. “As long as it involves you, me and some caffeine, I’m game for anything.”

Derek scratched at his bearded jawline. “Well, there’s a live ghost story reading happening at the coffee shop down the street. It starts at 9:00. I could meet you there?”

And oh. So that’s what it felt like to have Stiles’ soft, happy look directed at him. It felt frighteningly good.

“It’s a date,” Stiles said, backing away, smile big enough to make sweet little laugh lines crinkle around his eyes . “See you in a bit.”

Derek munched another brownie and watched the swing of Stiles’ slim hips as he walked away.

Yeah. Definitely good enough to eat.

#sterekhalloween5 #eternalsterek #sterekweek2019 #sterek #haleinski #halloween #sterek fic #photoset #moodboard #a HUGE thank you to sterek week!!!! you guys are the best

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shakespeareanqueer · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Party (Avengers Library for the Study of Enhanced Persons and Heroes, Chapter 9)

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Stark!F!Reader

Series summary: When you wake up with no memories in the Avengers compound, Tony takes you under his wing and gives you a job as Librarian and Archivist for the Avengers. What is this alpha, beta, omega stuff, and why does Bucky Barnes smell so good?

Chapter summary: There’s a party for the official opening of the Avengers Library for the Study of Enhanced Persons and Heroes, but will all the alphas in attendance keep their hands to themselves on your special day?

Word count: 2,923 words 📚Series Masterlist 📚My Masterlist

Contents: Alcohol, sexual assault (groping), cursing

A/N: I felt like it had been a minute since I posted the last chapter, or much of anything, at least at the rate I should be going if I want to complete all my challenges and bingos. So here’s this. It’s actually one of the first chapters I wrote for the series ‘cause I jumped around at first. Enjoy!

When the library finally opened just shy of three weeks into your endeavors with Bucky, Tony threw another gala, with a relatively identical invite list to your ‘welcome to the family’ party. It was to be held in your library. You were really looking forward to it; you’d so enjoyed the first, and now you were more comfortable in your own skin, so you figured it would be even more fun. Having explored your tastes more, you’d found a gown for the occasion you felt beautiful in. And, of course, you were so proud of your work and more than willing to show it off.

When he first saw you come through the doors, Bucky nearly fainted. Your dress was a light shade of purple, like the herb you smelled of, with a low back and cap sleeves. It was fitted in the bodice, highlighting your waist, but then flared out, the front coming to your mid-calf while the back grazed the floor. You paired it with a pair of silver open-toed kitten heels.

You passed right by where he stood gawking at you to go towards the back of the room, where a little stage had been erected. Tony went to step up to the microphone first, but you beat him to the punch.

“Tony Stark wants everything to be about him, so he has opening remarks planned, but this evening is actually about me, so naturally so do I. And that’s how you know I’m his kid.”

Laughter erupted from the crowd, and Tony pouted dramatically.

“And since my remarks are better than his, that’s how you know I’m Pepper’s kid.”

More laughter bubbled forth, as well as a loud “DAMN RIGHT!” from Pepper near the front.

You took a deep breath, and put on a more serious demeanor.

“A few months ago, a group of incredible people, some of whom happened to be enhanced, found an unconscious person in a field in Pennsylvania. They took her to the best medical professionals in the entire world. There was usually an entire gaggle of them in her room at all times, waiting for her to wake up.” You glanced at Tony. “One even stayed by her side 24/7.

“The Avengers Library for the Study of Enhanced Persons And Heroes. These people that work in this building are heroes. Not just because they kick serious alien butt on a regular basis, though that’s part of it.” You let a collective chuckle make its way through the crowd before continuing. “They’re heroes because in between saving the planet, they also find time to save scared, lonely people with no place in the world. Sometimes they even offer them a home, a family, a chance to make something of themself.

“So please raise your glasses and toast the hero who paid for all the fancy booze, and all the books, my adoptive father, Dr. Tony Stark!” A cheer went up. When it waned you added,

“Do NOT bring any of that booze into the Special Collections room, or the exhibitions room, unless you want me to personally blast your private parts off with one of my dad’s suits. Finish your cocktails, then head on back and check it out. I curated a fantastic exhibition about a World War Two vet who’s not half bad.” You winked right at Bucky. You didn’t need to search him out; you had been keenly aware of where he was in the crowd the entire time. His warm presence, calming scent and beaming smile was what gave you the courage to speak as you did.

“Welcome to the party, and congrats to me!” you concluded, raising your own glass of champagne and knocking it back.

Tony gave you a hug when you finished. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You don’t mind that I stole your moment, upstaged you and made it all about myself?” you asked, your chin tucked over his shoulder.

He laughed. “You kidding? That’s what I’m saying I’m proud of you for!”

You wandered off the stage and headed for the bar, where you just so happened to run into one James Buchanan Barnes. All right, so you specifically sidled up to stand right next to the stool he was parked in sipping a whiskey.

“You were great up there,” he said, wrapping one arm around your waist and squeezing affectionately. “And you look gorgeous, doll.”

You beamed at him as you waited for the bartender to refill your drink. “You don’t look so terrible yourself, Barnes. In fact, you look rather dapper.”

“Why thank you, darlin’.” You looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, smiles on both your faces. The entire party, the entire world didn’t exist— at least until the bartender coughed to get your attention, indicating your refilled drink. You thanked them, winked at Bucky, then sauntered off onto the dance floor.

Just like last time, you started dancing joyously with Natasha and Wanda and Maria. Carol joined in too this time, and Shuri. After a while, even Pietro and Peter joined. Just a festive circle of people jumping and twisting and having raucous, wholesome fun.

Every once in a while, you caught Bucky’s eye and grinned. He grinned back. And that was all you needed. You didn’t need to be by his side 24/7; it would be unhealthy if that’s what you wanted. You felt safe and happy with your friends who had become your family, with people other than him. But it was more than nice knowing your alpha was there too, watching over you.

When a slow song came on, Pietro was already much closer to you than Bucky was, since he was in your dance circle whereas Bucky was still at the bar chatting with Steve and Sam. That said, Quicksilver obviously could have gotten to you faster from anywhere in the room; that’s kind of the point of him. So the first dance went to the speedster. Bucky’s heart hurt for a moment, but when you looked at him over Pietro’s shoulder and gave him that same, dopey smile you’d been giving him all night, contentment settled into his bones.

“You ok seeing her cozy up to another alpha like that?” Sam asked incredulously.

Bucky nodded and took another swig of his beer. “As long as she’s happy. I’ll get the next one.”

He didn’t get the next one, though; that went to your father. Tony swooped in and scooped you out of Pietro’s arms, promptly whisking you across the dance floor. But that was all right with Bucky too. You weren’t a piece of property to be passed from your father to your mate, as you’d said once. Tony hadn’t lost his right to dance with you just because Bucky had found you, not to mention you weren’t really his yet anyway. So he was content, knowing you were safe.

Then it went back to fun, happy, upbeat music. He found out you were the type of person who did the entire Cotton Eye Joe, not stopping until the song was properly over, even keeping it up through the fading out bit at the end. He added that to his bank of little reasons why he adored you. He sat at the bar and laughed at you as you came huffing up, clearly out of breath from your enthusiastic dancing.

“Need some water, doll?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Need new lungs,” you replied, but accepted the water he handed you without question. He preened slightly; you’d let him take care of you, even if it was in this small way. He didn’t think it would ever stop bringing him joy for you to do that.

“I know gals don’t wear dance cards anymore, but could I reserve the next slow dance?” he asked.

You laughed at the way he introduced the question. Then you kissed his cheek. “It’s all yours, you old-timey goof.” ‘I’m all yours,’ added the little omega voice at the back of your mind.

Just then, the the perfect song for slow dancing came on. “Ah, speak of the devil.”

Bucky grinned as he took your hand and let you back onto the dance floor. “Is the thought of dancing with me really that hellish?” he joked.

You never responded to his quip, but with Bucky’s hand on your lower back holding you close to him, his other hand clasped in yours, feeling his body heat and smelling his comforting sweet and nutty scent, you couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t hellish at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He reluctantly let you go when the tune turned poppy again. Like a true gentleman, he kissed the back of your hand before turning to return to the bar, and you were grateful his back was to you so he couldn’t see how flushed your face got at that simple chivalrous action.

As the beat picked up again, you found yourself being tossed about in the middle of a rowdy crowd. The lights had shifted; they were low, and flashing colored neons had appeared out of nowhere (why did they have flashing colored neon lights in your library??). The sound was significantly altered from the dulcet tones of the slow dance to thumping bass and unintelligible shouted lyrics. It was like you were suddenly airdropped into a nightclub.

You were already slightly uncomfortable with this change of environment, rapidly becoming overstimulated with all the visual and aural noise, when you felt a hand on your butt. It wasn’t a casual, accidental, ‘there are too many people on this dance floor and your butt is at my hand level,’ type touch either. It was an ‘I am grabbing an entire handful of your ass very much on purpose’ type touch. You acted on your instinct, which was to turn around and slap the guy responsible.

If this were a movie, the entire room would have gone silent. A collective gasp would have emanated from the throng of revelers and then a hush would have fallen over the crowd. Every person in the room would have turned to stare at the two of you, parting like the red sea to give you and your harasser a wide berth.

But this wasn’t the movies. No one but yourself and the partygoer who had dared to touch you even knew that anything was amiss. Well, you two, and one super-soldier over at the bar who picked up on the distress in your scent immediately and began to plow his way through the crowd to get to you.

When he arrived, you were staring daggers at an alpha much taller than yourself. At a single glance he could already tell that this was the kind of entitled, shitface alpha you railed against. There was fire in your eyes as you glared up at him, but a sick sort of amusement shone through the offender’s.

“You know there are laws against raising a hand to an alpha, little omega?” he snarled. “And that I don’t need your permission to touch you?”

Your lip curled up and your scent became less distressed, almost pleased. Bucky’s fists relaxed a little at his sides; he knew you had this douche on the ropes.

“I am aware you don’t legally require my permission to touch me, even though that’s bullshit. I am also aware that there are laws against touching an omega whose caregiver is present without the permission of that caregiver, be they the mate or parent-slash-guardian, regardless of presentation. My father is over there; did you get his permission to grope my ass?”

As it turns out, Grabby McAss-Man, yourself and Bucky were not the only ones privy to the interaction. At the time of the assault, a certain red-headed super spy had also bore witness, and had stealthily made her way across the room to the very father you referenced.

Right at the moment the question left your mouth, “SOMEONE WHAT??!!” could be heard booming across the dance floor, even over all of the raucous music.

The man’s eyes went wide and you grinned cheekily. “Better run. You’ve gotten on Iron Man’s bad side now and that’s never a good place to be.”

The man stood stock still, jaw slack, clearly petrified. Now the crowds really were parting like the red sea to make way for your angry father. You were standing there smirking. Everyone's eyes were on Tony or his prey except for one person: Bucky. At the exact moment his nose registered the revert in your scent back to distress, his eyes noticed how your body was suddenly shaking, and your knees were threatening to give way. You were strong-willed and fiery and capable, but there was only so much you could take. You were crashing.

He rushed over to you and wound his metal arm around your waist to hold you steady. He bared his neck to you, wordlessly encouraging you to inhale his scent to calm yourself. You obliged. The familiar and homey scents of ripe strawberries, fresh cream and almond liqueur drifted through your nose and into your bones, allowing you to relax into him.

The creep’s eyes were torn away from the harbinger of his impending doom, Anthony Edward Stark, to view this display. “Oh so he can touch you but not me? Hypocritical omega bullshit.”

You did not have the energy to make a snarky response. For once in your life, you would not have the last word. You couldn’t. You were too tired. Too overstimulated with all the lights and sounds and emotions. You leaned further into Bucky instead.

When the groper began to say, “Hey bitch, I’m talking-” Bucky interrupted him with a deep, guttural, aggressive growl that shut him right up. This idiot had just enough preservation skills not to provoke the Winter Soldier too.

Bucky walked you back to your rooms and gingerly helped you sit on the couch. He sat beside you and let you take the lead on how much contact you felt comfortable with. At first you just leaned into his side, instinctively seeking out his body heat. But after a moment, a soft whimper escaped you and you collapsed, dropping your head onto his lap and breaking down. He stroked your hair and made soothing shushing noises.

“Why is this world so fucked up, Bucky?” you managed through tears.

“I don’t know, doll,” he whispered.

There was a long pause. He kept stroking your hair. Your breaths evened out, but you made no move to rise from his lap. He made no move to make you. But after a few more minutes, he did try and speak, softly.

“It would help if I scented you.”

You rolled over slowly until you were looking up into his face. “What?”

Bucky looked almost shy in that moment, untangling one hand from your hair to run down the back of his neck. “If I scented you. If I, uh, transfer… saliva, I guess, to your scent gland, other alphas will be able to smell me on you, and they might be more inclined to leave you alone…”

“Yeah I know what it means, Buck, I’ve lived here nearly seven months now.” You sighed.

“So…?” he asked, re-extending his offer.

You threw your hands in the air in exasperation, nearly hitting Bucky in the face. “Why can’t alphas just take my fucking no as enough! Why can’t they respect my personhood and my autonomy, why must they only respect another alpha!”

“I know, it’s not fair,” Bucky cooed, trying to calm you down, beginning to thread his fingers through your hair again.

“But on the other hand I’m just so tired!!!” you whined, flopping to your other side, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your nose into his torso. He swallowed, trying to ignore how close you were to his knot. The rest of your words were muffled into his shirt and he felt the vibrations of your speech in his stomach. “Why can’t more alphas be decent fucking human beings and take no for an answer and be respectful and kind? Why can’t alpha mean what it’s supposed to; protective, not possessive. Assertive, not entitled. Help those who are weaker or less fortunate, not take advantage of them.” You rolled onto your back again and looked him deep in his beautiful blue eyes. “Why can’t more alphas be like you?”

Bucky’s inner alpha preened at your praise of him, at your valuing him higher than other alphas. His heart jumped at the thought that you might, one day, hopefully soon, want him the way he wanted you.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

You didn’t respond after that, just stayed nuzzled against him such that he could feel your breath on his abs. You fell asleep like that, in his lap. He carried you bridal style to your bed and lay you down, pulling the duvet over you. He wanted so badly to press his lips to your forehead at the very least, but even that intimate of an action made him nervous. He couldn’t risk stepping over any line. He had given you carte blanche permission to snuggle up to him in his sleep, but you hadn’t agreed to a similar arrangement. He couldn’t risk you getting upset and pushing him away. So he turned out the light and, sparing one last look over his shoulder at your sweet, sleeping form, walked out.

Tag lists: (Shoot me an ask if you want in! I can also do a Bucky-specific one)

ALSEPH: @wxstedhexrt @misplacedorphan @yennewolf

Permanent: @nighttwingg

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lovecinnatwist · 4 years

Text

A Lingerie list of Problems

Pairing: JayDick Rating: M Tags: Lingerie, Alpha, Beta, Omega Dynamics

The way Dick moves is sensuous.

His full hips rock from side to side while mischievous blue eyes focus on Jason. The alpha sinks a little deeper into his chair. Hiding his face behind his copy of 'Jane Eyre'. The last thing he needs is to be the victim of the omega's boredom. He's fallen for it too many times already.

After all- fool me once shame on you.

" Little Wing-"

Fool me twice shame on me.

The voice is sweet. Too sweet. Jason knows he's fucked before it actually unfolds. He curses his newly-repaired relationship with the bats. Then curses Dick's ability to turn his alpha brain to mush.

The primal part of him is reacting to Dick's sweetness. Leaning into the omega's space with a soft rumble. The omega smiles with mirth. Closing the distance between them smelling clean and lovely. He's wearing the perfume Damian got him for ' not mother's day'. It's thick in the air and makes it far too challenging to resist obeying.

" Come upstairs with me. "

Fool me six or seven times-

Jason's an idiot.

Dick leads him out of the chair and up the stairs with grace. The way he sneaks about is playful. Pulling Jason along the halls with simpering looks and teasing grins. It only takes two turns for Jason to realize he's being led to Dick's bedroom. This part of the wing is eerily quiet, both Damian and Tim out God knows where.

They slip into Dick's room. The omega is practically vibrating with how eager he is. It only takes Jason one look to realize why.

There, on the bed is an array of skimpy outfits Dick probably has no need for. The sheer variety makes a cold sweat break out on Jason's neck. He knows why he's here before the omega gets a chance to tell him.

" Help me pick one?"

Jason hears something break inside of him. Lingerie. Dick wants him to help him with lingerie.

All over the top of the mattress, there are at least a dozen outfits neatly placed. What need could Dick possible have for this many undergarments? Most if not all, with the tags still on.

Jason lets his eyes roam over the fabric reluctantly. There's a wide range of styles, starting with a classic soft pink baby doll and going all the way out to a fierce set made up of red lace, garters, stockings and thin straps that would stand no chance against an alpha's teeth. The sheer audacity of the outfit makes him hot under the collar.

" Well-"

Dick's tone is knowing. His beautiful features in open amusement. Jason's eyes dart away. Brain desperately trying to find a way out of this situation. Why is it always him?

Hesitantly, his eyes fall back on the delicate material. The possibilities are overwhelming. He finds his gaze trailing to a blue teddy style. Nothing too revealing, but the fabric is silky and sheer. He especially likes the lacey black trim. The top obviously made to emphasis an omega's shoulders while covering the neck.

He lets his fingers reach out to brush against it. It's softer than it looks but feels durable. He's not quite sure who would have sex in such a thing. It's more like a sexy one-piece bathing suit. The alpha would have to slip the material aside just to-

Jason pulls his hands back. The hot images behind his eyes burning him like a flame. Dick pays him little to no mind. Instead, he takes the fabric and considers it for a moment. His pretty blue eyes compliment the cloth beautifully.

" Good pick Jay, this is one of my favourites. "

The alpha nods wordlessly, wanting nothing more than to return to the library. Maybe after a shower. An ice-cold one that washes away all filthy fantasies about the pack omega. Why did Dick always have to pick him for this stuff? Tim is the other omega in the house- he should be going to him for this!

Well, the pretty smile Dick gives him makes it worth it. It's obvious whoever this person is that the omega really wants to impress them. His job done Jason starts towards the door. His skin prickles with the need to get out of the room.

" Well glad I could help Dick. Good luck with- whatever this is. "

Jason does not make it to the door. Dick wraps a hand around his wrist, effectively stopping him from leaving. In his other hand, he's holding the lingerie. A mischievous glint twinkles in his eye.

" Hold on Jay I have to try it on. How else do we know it looks good? "

He's pretty sure his brain short circuits. The outfits alone are already sexy. Imagining the omega in them is overwhelming. Actually, seeing Dick in the delicate lace, however?

Definitely outside of his mental capacity.

The slight whimper that leaves his throat is feeble.

" But Dick I was-"

Big blue eyes blink up at him. Clear and enchanting in a way that Jason can't resist. The fight leaves him before he can even finish his argument. Why did he always fall for this?

Dick ends up perching him on a chair near the desk. Apparently completely committed to ruining Jason's life. The man escapes to the adjacent walk-in closet with glee.

Jason doesn't exhale until the door shuts. He keeps his palms on his knees, smoothing the fabric there. It's something to do and helps him with his sweaty palms. He feels hot. Too hot. The entire room smell's like Dick. The scent of unmated omega grating on his senses like a too-tight suit.

He could do this. Just one or two flattering remarks and Dick would be right as rain. Then he could go wallow in the training room and maybe beat out some of this pent up alpha energy. Maybe go for a run or something. Anything but staying here with the pretty omega.

The man is clearly taking his time to get into his outfit. There's nothing but soft shuffling from behind the door. Subtle noises that make Jason more anxious. He's trying hard to keep his mind clear. He adds prime numbers as he tries to ignore the fact that Dick is behind that door naked. Very obscure glimpses of movement are visible from behind the closet shutters.

" Ready?"

Jason, is in fact, not ready. Not that it matters when the omega comes out anyway. It's like a slap to the face. The sheer amount of beauty Dick carries doesn't wane in the outfit. If anything it's amplified tenfold. Jason finds himself stupidly speechless, words lost to him.

Dick seems to take that as a compliment. He wastes no time in twirling and checking himself out in the full-length mirror. The level of confidence and comfort the other holds in outstanding. He carries himself like he's wearing his Nightwing uniform or maybe even a tailored suit. The nerve itself is sexy all on its own.

Jason can't imagine what's going through the omega's mind. How could Dick so readily reveal himself to him like this? They might be pack mates, but he is still an alpha. It's almost as if he doesn't see Jason as a potential suitor at all. More like a pup or a kid brother. The thought is daunting. He doesn't really get to wallow in it however because blue fills his vision.

" So- What do you think?"

Gorgeous.

Scrumptious.

Teeth sinking-ly delicious.

Jason swallows down his thoughts as his eyes scan the omega over. It's too stimulating. There isn't enough blood in his brain to formulate a proper response.

" Good. "

Dick shifts his weight to his other heel- ( Oh God he's wearing black stilettos. Where did he get black stilettos have they always been there? ) His lips form into a pout.

" Just good? That's it?"

Jason internally screams. What else is he supposed to say?

Dick expression doesn't fall. If anything the omega looks more determine. He doesn't ask Jason anything else. Just whirls over to the bed and grabs another outfit and retreats into the closet.

That's when Jason realizes he made a horrible mistake.

Dick tries on every. Single. Outfit.

From a cute periwinkle baby doll set. To a beautiful lace full body pantsuit that makes his mouth water. It's all elegant, expensive and classy. He looks like a wealthy omega consort, one that lives dripping in jewels and silk every day of his life.

" Cute."

It's not enough.

" Stunning. "

It gets him a small style.

" Sexy. "

Dick full-on grins.

Jason's temporarily limited vocabulary starts to expand every single time Dick comes out. It isn't Shakespeare by any stretch of the imagination. His words are clumsy and coarse his mouth far too full of alpha pheromones to manage anything better.

Dick gosh darn preens under the ungainly praise.

By the time they're on the last outfit, Jason has to pace back and forth to keep calm. The room is bursting with the omega's delight and his desire. He positively wreaks of interest. He has no idea how Dick hasn't noticed it yet. At least they're almost done.

Then Jason will be free to head to his room and jerk off with his teeth in his pillow. Is it sad and pathetic? Yes. But after that display, he doesn't think he can get it up for anyone else if he tried. As if his manhood agrees, it throbs tortuously against his zipper. Stubbornly straining for release.

Jason growls low and to himself. It's at that same time that the closet doors open again. His eyes snap up. His entire body wants nothing more than to bask in the lovely omega's presence. The sight that greets him is more than he can endure.

Red.

He's never seen Dick is red he thinks. Like this, the omega looks dangerous. Voluptuous curves obscenely accentuated by red lace and black straps. He didn't even see Dick take it off of the bed. His mouth is dry for not the first time.

His alpha instincts surge to the surface. Pressing him to claim, fuck and breed until the omega is wholly in his scent. His jaw aches from the effort to keep still. To stand and just watch as this beautiful creature poses for him while wearing his colour.

Dick spins. Showing off his attire lavishly. Jason thinks his zipper might break when he gets sight of the plush ass in lace and garters. He licks his lips, canines suddenly feeling sharp.

" How do I look? "

Dick pushes out his chest. Giving Jason a peek of a pert pink nipple under scandalous clothing.

Jason couldn't stop the words even if he tried.

" Fuckable. "

He gets a feral smile in return, one that looks downright wicked on the omega's features. Dick isn't even the least bit subtle when he bends forward and shows off sinful cleavage. His hands slide up his thighs and play with the edge of high black stockings.

Jason's gaze can't help following. His eye-burning hot as they fall on the skimpy lace panties. Dick's hand dips between his legs. Gently pushing aside the fabric to reveal a slit.

The omega's sweet- soft folds spill out. Plush pussy lips already glistening with slick. Dick's fingers slip in and God- he can hear the wetness from here.

A broken growl leaves his throat, the sound makes Dick grin.

" Then fuck me. "

#jaydick #Jason Todd #dick grayson #omegaverse #request #prompt #ficlets

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emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Desperation - chapter 5

12: “So… apparently we’re in lockdown.”

Prompt list here

[AO3]

Once Gold had gone to bed, Belle cleaned up in the kitchen, washing the cups and saucers (and her hands) and wiping down all the surfaces and furniture with disinfectant. She knew she was taking a chance by staying with the Golds, but if she was careful, perhaps she would be alright. There was only silence from the bedrooms, and she hoped that Bae and Gold were getting the rest they needed.

A quick check of the fridge found it well-stocked with milk, eggs, cheese and fresh vegetables. They certainly wouldn’t starve. She made another pot of tea, and put the pie that Ruby had given her in the fridge, and the packet of cookies in the bread box. Perhaps Bae could be persuaded to have some later.

The door of the kitchen led out onto a rear porch, and Belle carried her tea out to sit on the wooden bench overlooking the garden. It was a cold day, but sunny, and she was warm enough bundled up in her coat. The house sat on the farthest edge of town, bordered by woods at the rear. Reddish trunks of pine stood like sentinels around the perimeter, their branches covered with shining coats of dark green needles. The garden itself contained rows of vegetables, kale and beets and carrots thriving now that the snows had passed, a small greenhouse in the sunniest spot containing trays of seedlings. There were rows of bamboo canes tied together in pyramids, no doubt awaiting beans and peas, and squares of damp, dark earth that had been cleared for planting, She imagined she now had an explanation for the jars of homemade produce in the kitchen. The thought made her smile, even as she wondered how Gold managed to make time to rest.

She drank her tea, leaning back on the bench and listening to cheerful birdsong from the trees. Storybrooke seemed a pleasant town, from the short time she had spent there, and its inhabitants friendly and helpful, for the most part. She decided that she had made the right choice to move there. Pandemic or no pandemic.

The sound of a car engine made her look around curiously, and she picked up her cup and walked down from the porch, around the side of the house. A police cruiser had pulled up outside, and for a moment her heart was in her throat, thinking it was bad news. A young blonde woman got out, nodding to Belle and smiling briefly to lift her grim expression.

“Hey, don’t look so scared, I’m not here to arrest anyone,” she said, walking up to the fence. “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Sheriff Swan. Emma Swan.”

“Uh - Belle French,” said Belle, still hovering near the front porch. “I’m the new librarian.”

Emma looked interested at that.

“Oh yeah?” she said. “My kid’s been going on at me for weeks, ever since we heard about the library opening up again. I keep telling him he’ll have to wait to check out books.”

“Well, as soon as I can open up, I’ll let you know,” said Belle, with a smile.

“Great! Trying to entertain a ten-year-old’s pretty much a full-time job now school’s out.” Emma frowned slightly as she looked up at the house. “I thought I heard you were taking the apartment above the library.”

“Oh, this isn’t my house,” said Belle hastily. “I just came over to help out a - a friend.”

“Ah.” Emma winced. “Well, you might want to get home while you can. I’m doing a house-to-house, letting everyone know about the lockdown.”

“There’s definitely a lockdown, then?” said Belle anxiously, and she nodded.

“Yep. Starting eight this evening. The Mayor did a radio broadcast earlier, and it’ll be repeated every half-hour, but for anyone that didn’t hear it, I’m doing the rounds.”

Belle took a step closer.

“What - what does that mean?” she asked. “What’s being locked down?”

“Whole town,” said Emma. “Everyone in Storybrooke is being told to stay in their homes. Only people allowed out are hospital workers, police, and a handful of people who’ve already had the virus and have been issued with permits to make essential deliveries.”

“For how long?”

“Next three weeks, to start with,” said Emma. “Theory is, it’ll stop the virus spreading, let the doctors treat those that already have it, wipe the thing out. That’s the theory, anyway. It’ll only work if everyone plays their part, so if you need to get home, I’d go now.”

Belle chewed her lip.

“But - but they’re both sick,” she said. “Father and son. They won’t be able to care for each other.”

Emma looked troubled.

“Look, I can ask at the hospital to see if there’s any space, but I doubt it,” she said. “They’re overwhelmed right now. That’s the reason for the lockdown.”

Belle took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Then I’ll stay here, and wait it out with them,” she said. “I can take care of them.”

“In that case, I’ll add your name to the list at this address,” said Emma, and reached inside the car to pull out a clipboard. “Belle French, right? I’ll put you down as staying with the Golds. That way they’ll know to deliver extra groceries.”

“Who’s delivering groceries?”

“If we want people to obey the lockdown, we need to make sure they eat,” explained Emma. “The Mayor’s organised a distribution centre at the docks. Small team of people with the all-clear will be making up boxes of groceries for every household, to be delivered twice per week. That way all the damn hoarding stops, there’s enough to go around, and people stay off the streets.”

“Right.”

“You’ll get your first delivery Friday,” added Emma. “Remember: after eight tonight, the lockdown begins. I see anyone out after that, it’s a big-ass fine, got it?”

“Got it,” said Belle hurriedly, and Emma smiled again.

“Well, good luck,” she said. “You tell Mr Gold and his son to get well soon, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Sheriff.”

Emma nodded to her, and set off to the next house. Belle went back around to the rear of the house, climbing the steps to the porch and heading back inside. She poured herself another cup of tea and drank it seated at the table, thinking. A glance at the kitchen clock showed that it was approaching five. Lockdown in three hours.

She looked around sharply at the sound of coughing from upstairs, and put down her cup, climbing the stairs and keeping her ears pricked. The coughing sound came again, from Bae’s bedroom, and she opened the door to peer in.

“Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

Bae glanced around, taking shallow, rapid breaths.

“Not great,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Where’s Papa?”

“He’s sleeping,” said Belle, slipping into the room. “I think he’s exhausted.”

Bae nodded, and coughed again, face pushed into the crook of his arm. Belle spied a thermometer on the nightstand.

“Let’s take your temperature,” she suggested. “Did you drink all your honey and lemon?”

“Yeah. Is there any more?”

“I can make you some. Let’s check that fever first.”

Bae stuck the thermometer in his mouth obediently, lying back against the pillows. Belle waited, hovering in the doorway until it beeped, and he took it out, squinting at the digital screen.

“One hundred,” he said.

“Still a little higher than normal, then,” she said. “I think the medication must have helped, but we’ll check again in an hour or so. You get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

Bae wriggled back down in the covers, watching her with dark eyes that seemed a little brighter than they had been. Belle smiled again.

“I’ll get you your honey and lemon,” she said.

“Thanks.”

She closed the door, pausing on the landing as she looked around. There were two doors to the left of her, and she turned the handle of the furthest one cautiously, opening it as quietly as she could. A bathroom, with a corner shower and bath. The door next to it was a linen closet, with piles of neatly-folded towels and bed sheets. Which made the door on the other side of the landing Gold’s bedroom. She tiptoed closer, pausing outside to listen, but there was nothing but silence. Belle hoped that he was sleeping. At least there was no sound of coughing.

She went back down the stairs, pausing halfway down as she realised something. Two bedrooms. Two beds. Oh. Bugger.

Hesitating, she glanced back up, thinking. Well, I can’t leave them alone. I’ll have to sleep on the couch. Nodding to herself, she reached the foot of the stairs and turned right instead of left, opening the door that led to the lounge. She paused in the doorway, looking around curiously. There was an old couch and a squashy armchair, both stacked with red cushions. A wooden coffee table was atop a rag rug, and a TV on a stand was against the opposite wall. Shelves filled with books lined the walls, and in the other half of the room behind the couch was a box of toys and, of all things, a loom and spinning wheel. Belle’s mouth fell open at that, and she walked closer, eyes roaming over the objects. A skein of yarn was taking shape on the wheel, and the loom held a thin section of woollen cloth, a deep cobalt blue with what looked like the beginnings of an edging pattern in a paler shade. Well. This man is just full of surprises.

Having satisfied herself that there was a couch, and that it looked comfortable enough, Belle closed the door, heading back to the kitchen. She made up the hot honey and lemon for Bae, and after a moment’s hesitation made another cup for Gold, stirring them well and gazing out over the garden. The sun was heading towards the horizon, casting a warm glow over the rows of vegetables, and she glanced at the clock. Five-thirty. I’ll see if they want some dinner.

She carried the cups upstairs, careful not to spill. Bae smiled at her when she gave him his, and she crept along the landing to Gold’s bedroom. Hesitating, she knocked quietly on the door, hoping that if he was asleep, she wouldn’t disturb him.

“Come in.”

Gold sounded tired, but she opened the door, peering in. He was in bed, sitting up with his elbows on his raised knees and running a hand through his hair. He wore a T-shirt, which clung to his chest and arms. His muscles were small and wiry, and she suspected he was strong for his size. He sent her a tired smile.

“Hey,” she said, setting the cup down on his nightstand and stepping back. “I was making one for Bae, so I figured I’d make one for you.”

“Thank you. That was kind.”

He picked up the cup, breathing in the fragrant steam.

“How’s Bae?”

“He still has a fever, but only a mild one. I’ll check it again after dinner.”

“I’m not sure if he’ll eat anything,” said Gold. “Hasn’t had much of an appetite these past few days.”

“Maybe Granny’s apple pie will change that,” she suggested, and he smiled.

“Maybe so. There should be some ice cream in the freezer. Not exactly a balanced meal, but as long as he eats something, I’m happy.”

“I’ll see if he wants some.” She put her head to the side. “What about you?”

He wrinkled his nose much as Bae had done, and sighed.

“I suppose I should eat something,” he said. “Keep my strength up, and all that. There are meals in the freezer. All home-cooked and labelled. Anything will do.”

“Okay.”

He took a sip of his drink. Belle bounced on her toes, and he glanced up at her.

“Are you alright?”

“The Sheriff stopped by,” she said. “So… apparently we’re in lockdown.”

“Lockdown?”

Belle nodded.

“Three weeks. Starting at eight. On pain of—in her words—a big-ass fine.”

“Oh.” Gold ran a hand over his face. “Well. I knew it was serious. That’ll hit some people hard.”

“The Mayor has ordered a small group to make up and distribute grocery parcels,” she said. “First one gets here Friday.”

“That’s something, I suppose.” He took another drink, and set down his cup. “Thanks for everything you’ve done, Belle. You should go before the lockdown starts.”

“What? No, I’m going to stay!” she protested. “You’re sick, you can’t care for Bae and yourself alone!”

“And if you stay here with us, you’ll get sick too.”

“Not if I’m careful,” she said, and gestured between them. “See? Social distancing. And I’ve been washing my hands every five seconds, it feels like. I can do this.”

He shook his head, but it seemed more surprise than denial. A tiny, tired smile was curving the corners of his mouth.

“I’m afraid there’s only one bed,” he said. “If you give me an hour or so to pull myself together, I can remake this and take the couch. At least you’ll have somewhere comfortable to sleep.”

“I’m taking the couch,” she said firmly. “You stay there until you’re better, got it?”

She fixed him with a stare, and after a moment Gold sighed and nodded.

“Okay, I don’t have the energy to argue,” he said. “But when all this is over, Belle, I’m gonna try to make it up to you. Don’t know how yet, but I’ll try.”

#sprite's pandemic promptathon #rumbelle fic #fic: desperation #my fic #rumbelle

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tsukihotaru · 4 years

Text

ASL Modern AU Idea

This idea had been stuck in my damn head for at least a week. So I’m gonna share the idea with you all! (This ended up being a long ass post I’m so fuckin sorry lmao. Some stuff in this story I was given small ideas from other things I have read) Super sorry for the word dump!

I’m not saying this is an amazing idea, just something that I wanted to share.

Disclaimer: I know absolutely jack shit about child services and foster homes. So this will be purely like... my imagination. This story is very undeveloped in a lot of parts. And it also gets very heavy when we start talking about Luffy’s foster home life, (abuse and near death) so you’ve been warned.

Concept: The ASL trio were raised with Dadan, who was en ex-criminal. Garp left them with her because she was an old friend, and his job made him be away a lot. (tho he tried to be with them as much as he could when he got back) But when child services got wind of the three living with the ex-criminal, and how Garp was “neglecting” them, letting them run wild, they took the three away. (Luffy was 7, and Ace and Sabo were 10 at the time)

Child Services separated the brothers and put them into different foster homes.

Ace’s foster home was with the Whitebeard’s. He was obviously furious and tried multiple times to run away to find his brothers. Till Marco and Pop’s finally talked some sense into him.

Sabo’s foster home was with Iva and their foster daughter Koala. Though Sabo did try to run away a few times, it wasn’t as nearly as much as Ace, as Iva was able to talk some sense into Sabo rather quickly.

Luffy, however, ended up getting the short end of the stick. (I dont have an actual character to put him in a home with, so for now they’re just random oc’s) At first his home was alright, he cried a lot due to being separated from his brothers. After a while his foster father became abusive, but was able to hide it when Child services would check in once in a blue moon.

During the times of when Luffy is 7 to the age of 15, he would slowly meet his “crew”. Basically in order of how they joined the crew in general. I would say he meets brook (who i made much, much younger, but still the oldest, probably like 50 idk) by the time he was 14, Also meeting Law by then.

When Luffy is 15, he came home to his foster mother dead and his foster father trying to kill him. This is where he almost actually died and Law was able to save him. (He was still a beginner surgeon, but Luffy insisted Law was the one to work on him, having complete faith in Law’s ability) This would be how Luffy got his big ass scar (haven’t figured out HOW exactly he would get it, I’ve been going from boiling hot water to other random shit but i haven’t put to much thought into it.) and multiple other scars.

At this point Garp was able to track Luffy down when he was in the Hospital, taking him in for a few months to live with him. (taking a few months vacation to spend it with his recovering grandson) But after half a year or so Luffy moved out to live with his friends.

From there the story takes place 4 years later. During the span of one year, the ASL trio slowly find each other. (Ace finds Sabo at college, and the two find Luffy at his pirate restaurant he shared with his ‘crew’).

Yep. Thats about it. I’ll put other random notes under the cut if your more interested in my ideas lol. I just needed to get this out cuz I can’t finish a story for the fuckin life of me xD

If anyone actually wants to use this word dump idea knock your self out, just DM me in advance lol.

These are the ages I changed within the story. I have a large ass list of the strawhats of when ages of when they’re introduced (Like Introduced, middle of backstory(like when luffy 15 in the hospital), then present ages which are the canon ages), but all their ages are the same otherwise (besides Brook)

Luffy and his friends has a hideout they build in the forest close to the city. They named the hideout the “Going Merry” and used it for a few years till when Luffy was 13, it caught on fire.

In my original idea Luffy had the X scar, but also multiple scars from the years and bullet wound scars from the near death experience.

Franky (and Iceberg) build them a large house near the city (about a 10 minute drive). Making it big enough for them all to live in, decked out with with their own rooms, a mini library, a large kitchen and a large living room. Multiple other rooms that can be up to your imagination, and a large backyard.

When Luffy was 18 Franky (with the help of Iceberg again), built them their restaurant the “Thousand Sunny”. Which is a pirate themed restaurant, all of them having active rolls in it. (Franky and Robin are the ones who are technically the owners who pay the bills, but Luffy is still the captain)

Sanji and his siblings were raised by Zeff, before their mother passed away, she was able to get them taken away from Judge, and Zeff became their foster father.

Just about everyone has other jobs besides working at the restaurant.

Sanji used to work at the Baratie with his brothers till he became the full-time chef at the Thousand Sunny.

Zoro is a sword seller and owns his own shop.

Nami is the best weather women

Usopp works full time at the Sunny

Chopper is in college to become a doctor, but works at the Sunny.

Franky works with Iceberg at the Galley-La company (which is a construction company in this AU).

Robin worked at a College as a history teacher.

Brook is a street musician but spends most of his time at the Sunny

Luffy’s full-time job is the Sunny, but he doesn’t really do much other than cause chaos lol.

Jinbe doesn’t work at the sunny at all, but I also have no damn clue what his job even would be. BUT he does visit the Sunny a lot.

Ace is going to college because Pop’s made him go, but Ace is in charge of a part of Pop’s company like the other division commanders. All the commanders work for Pop’s company, each having their own floor to run on the large building they own. What the company is? I have no clue. Haven’t thought of it yet lmao.

Sabo is going to college for computer tech. Wanting to open his own tech shop but currently works for a random one.

Now, this CAN turn into a ship story if anyone wants it to. (Lawlu, MarcoAce, MAS, thats just the stuff I ship of the main characters of the story. I do have a side of UsoppKaya and FrankyRobin in the background of this idea though. But thats just me) But for now I am keeping it more platonic to focus on the brothers and their reunion.

Ok if I dont stop writing I’m gonna be here for days lmao, c’ya!

#One Piece #ASL #Story Idea #Idea I'll probably never finish #I just had to get it out because it wouldn't leave my head #monkey d. luffy #portgas d. ace #one piece sabo #revolutionary sabo #long post #im kinda sorry with how long this is #I just started explaining and it became a word dump #i doubt anyone is going to read this but idc i needed to get this out so badly #to those who do read it honestly good job how did you manage to get through my bullshit rambling #i actually had to stop myself from writing more to #Sabo

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maluminspace · 5 years

Text

Genre: fluff/mild angst

Pairings: I’ll let you decide 😏

Word Count: 1.3k

Requested: by @honeyedlashton for spooky!sos 2019

Trigger Warnings: mild violence/strong language

A/N: I really was living my best nerd life writing this 💗 couldn’t decide if specifically stating romantic relationships would ruin it so I left it open for you to decide if any of them are involved 😏

—

“Can’t we get some better uniforms?” Michael complains as he zips up his beige jumpsuit. “I mean... we look like we work in a sewer or something.”

“We’re not having this conversation again, Michael.” Ashton huffs as he picks up his proton pack. “We needed a neutral colour because our logo has red in it.”

The blonde man pouts, “I still don’t know what they couldn’t be black.” He huffs, grabbing his own proton pack and heading for the door.

“Because these beige ones were cheaper.” Luke chimes in, striding past Michael to reach the stairs first. “You know Ashton’s a cheapskate!”

Calum exchanges an exasperated look with Ashton before locking up the lab and following their bickering colleagues down the stairs. “Do you think they’ll ever run out of things to complain about?” He asks, checking that he has everything he needs for tonight’s job.

“Probably not.” Ashton replies with a humourless laugh. “But if they carry on like this they’ll find themselves jobless.”

Calum knows that Luke and Michael can be pains in the ass more often than not, however he’d never believe that Ashton would fire them from the job they all loved so much. “I’m sure there are more fitting punishments, Ash.” He smirks, opening the door of the disused fire station they’d recently set up their lab in.

The now familiar sounds and smells of New York hits Calum with a wave of familiarity, carried to him on a brisk breeze.

Laughing mischievously, Ashton wrap’s an arm around Calum’s shoulders. “Will you help me think of one when we get back?”

“Come on, Ash!” Luke whines, interrupting Calum before he can offer a reply. “Open the car already, it’s cold!”

The modified hurst wasn’t exactly the ideal car to navigate New York City’s congested roads, but it was pretty fitting for their line of work.

“You’re so impatient, hemmings.” Ashton sighs, unlocking the car remotely.

“Maybe you should spend less time making out with Calum and more time focusing on your job, Irwin...” Michael mocks, throwing his proton pack into the back seat of the car before clambering in himself.

“Ooh someone’s getting jealous!” Calum giggles, climbing onto the front passenger seat of the car. “Is it me or Ashton you wish you were making out with, Mike?”

Luke scoffs loudly. “If Mike wants to kiss anyone in this car, it’s definitely me!”

The conversation is brought to an abrupt end as Ashton jumps into the car and slams the door. “Enough chattering, nerds.” He mutters incredulously. “We’ve got some ghosts to bust before we can settle that argument once and for all.

***

An old school is tonight’s location and Calum can’t help but wonder if he’s in the wrong job sometimes. His stomach always ties itself up into knots when he’s traipsing through the dark corridors of creaky buildings like this, just waiting for some spirit or another to jump out at him.

“The caretaker said that the most active spot is the library, maybe we should start there.” Ashton suggested, gesturing vaguely down one of the corridors at the junction they’d just stopped at. “Did he mention anything else about particular locations we should check out, Luke?”

The youngest ghostbuster shakes his head, his sandy coloured curls falling over his forehead, almost covering his pretty blue eyes. “He just said that the worst stuff happens in the library but odd things occur all over really.”

“That’s really helpful, Luke.” Michael scoffs “how many times have we asked you to take better notes when you talk to clients?”

An annoyed expression takes over Luke’s handsome face as he fixes Michael with a disgruntled glare. “Well if you feel that strongly about it, you can be the stand-in receptionist. I’m already tired of answering that damn phone, we get way too many prank calls, y’know.”

“As much as I’d love to help out, I’m the only one who can turn Ashton’s weapon ideas into a reality, I don’t have time to answer phones.” Michael replies, a hint of smugness in his tone.

“Hey!” Calum protests, nudging Michael’s shoulder with his own. “I’m as technical as you are, I’ve made some of the most successful equipment we use!”

Luke makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat to interrupt the conversation. “Well I know New York City better than any of you, you couldn’t do this job without me...”

“Can we talk about this later, please?” Ashton hisses, glancing around a corner carefully as he leads the way to the library. “We have a job to do right now, your arguing isn’t helping!”

“Yeah, Luke!” Michael huffs, sounding so much like a child that Calum can’t help but laugh.

“You started it!” Luke replies in a furious whisper, “I’m so tired of your smug little comments, Clifford!”

Although Calum always finds Michael’s and Luke’s little spats amusing, he knows that now isn’t the time for it. “Okay, children, that’s enough!” He sighs, “Ash’s right, we have to...” Before he can finish his sentence, he’s cut short by a chilling shriek from up ahead.

“I think we’ve found the library...” Ashton whispers, his gaze set on the set of heavy metal doors up ahead.

Calum really fucking hates this part, but he takes his place just behind Ashton anyway. It’s hardly fair that he’s one of the physically strongest, because it means he’s more able to hold the more powerful ghosts with his blaster and guide them into the traps that Luke and Michael usually operate. He’s also the most afraid of ghosts, though.

As they near the doors, Ashton cautiously reaches out his hand but before he can touch the handle a disembodied voice breaks the silence around them, forcing all four men to stop in their tracks.

“Stay back.” The voice warns sternly.

Something about the unforgiving tone makes Calum’s skin prickle with fear. He doesn’t like this situation one little bit...

“That’s not gonna happen, I’m afraid.” Ashton replies, his voice sounding much calmer than Calum’s would be if he was to speak right now. “We’ve been asked to take you away from here, It’s time for you to move on.”

There’s a moment of silence before a chilling laugh echoes around the hallway. Calum wishes more than anything, that he and the others could just leave.

Ever the impatient one, Michael doesn’t even wait for the laughing to finish before he stomps towards the door.

Calum’s gut twists uneasily as the blonde man recklessly reaches for the door handle.

Both Ashton and Calum call out for him to stop but Michael doesn’t listen. His fingers close around the handle for a split second before the blonde man is flung away from the doors by some invisible force.

Michael lands a few feet away with a dull thud. Calum forgets all about his ‘work’ and what they’re here to do, his only thoughts are about making sure Michael’s okay.

Luckily Michael is already groaning as he attempts to sit up when Calum drops to his knees beside him. “Are you okay?” The slightly younger man asks, concern lacing his voice.

Michael nods, holding the back of his head gingerly. “Just about.”

A sigh of relief escapes Calum as he helps Michael sit upright.

“That fucker’s gonna pay for that.” Michael scowls. “Kick those damn doors down.” He adds to Ashton and Luke.

The eldest and youngest members of the group exchange an almost excited smirk before they simultaneously kick open the library doors.

Calum’s heart sinks when the sheer number of spirits residing in the library becomes evident. In all of the jobs they’d worked on so far, they’d never been faced with this many spectres in one place at the same time.

“Holy shit.” Michael gasps disbelievingly. “It’s gonna be a long night...”

Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @lukesahoy @thrillchaser @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @valentinelrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @spookymashton @fairyintheglass

#5sos #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5sos fic #ghostbusters!5sos #5 seconds of summer #ghostbuster!michael #ghostbuster!calum #ghosbuster!ashton #ghostbuster!luke #michael clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #spooky!sos 2019 #spooky!sos 2019 OT4 #my writing

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hopeisour4letteredword · 5 years

Text

Coffee Break

Summary: Flynn gets his chat over coffee, but he and Yuri still can’t help catching on each others’ rough edges.

Part of the Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In series. Link to AO3 in the notes.

The coffee shop is one of Flynn’s favorites. Not his absolute favorite, because Yuri got weird about it and shot him down when he suggested that one. But this place is still up near the top of the list. Not too expensive, either. Hopefully some good food will ease a little bit of the tension from this meet up.

Flynn tries not to fidget as he waits out front. Is his outfit alright? He didn’t know what to wear for this. When he meets his coworkers and classmates, he usually shoots for business casual. But this isn’t a coworker or a classmate, it’s Yuri, and that makes everything paradoxically more and less important. Flynn erred on the casual side, one of his favorite worn t-shirts and a light, comfortable over-shirt, and he’s still irrationally afraid Yuri’s going to show up and call it pretentious.

He’s a little early. He has no right to be anxious that Yuri is a no-show just because he isn’t here yet. Besides, Yuri’s run late for everything before and after they were on the fencing team together in high school, so—

“Hey,” Yuri says, at precisely eleven o’ clock, giving Flynn a goddamn heart attack. Flynn whips around to stare at him. He’s got his hands shoved into his pockets, an untucked button-down shirt and jeans on, and a leash on one wrist that trails down to a panting but cheerful Repede. He looks just as uncomfortable as he did at the veterinary clinic. “Hope you don’t mind a third wheel. I don’t like to leave him home alone if I’ve got a choice, but I can take him b—“

“No!” Flynn says, hastily. As though he would ever be unhappy with Repede. He mentally ushers himself away from thoughts of intimate situations where he actually might prefer Repede’s absence. Those were only ever pipe dreams even at their relationship’s closest, and Yuri barely wants to talk to him right now. “No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll order for you while you grab one of the patio tables for us. Do you know what you want?”

“Just, like.” Yuri scrubs at his face. He seems exhausted. “A black coffee. And a plain croissant, or whatever they have that’s closest. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Flynn frowns, considering his appearance. He has dark bags under his eyes, and he looks a little pale. “Do...you want to take a rain check? Because if—“

“No,” Yuri snaps, then visibly takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I worked late. There’s not really going to be a good time to meet up when that won’t be true.”

“Okay,” Flynn says, carefully. “Coffee and a black croissant—oh, hell, I mean—“

He’s already made a fool of himself. It’s worth it, though, because a solid 75 percent of the tension leaks out of Yuri’s shoulders as he muffles laughter into his hand, a twinkle in his eye for the first time Flynn’s seen in years.

“A croissant and black coffee,” Flynn corrects himself. It’s hard not to smile in return when Yuri grins like that. God, Flynn had almost forgotten how beautiful he is. Pictures have never done Yuri justice. They can’t capture his vibrancy. “Do you want the receipt?”

“Yeah, I’ll pay you back.”

Flynn thinks about announcing it’s his treat, then remembers Yuri’s fight with Schwann at the clinic. “Sure thing.”

He leaves Yuri to pick a table and goes inside to order. Croissant, black coffee—Flynn almost orders him a large, because he looks like he needs it, but then feels guilty about making that call when Yuri’s going to be the one shelling out the extra money—and for Flynn, soup in a bread bowl and an iced tea. He loiters until the order is ready, watching Yuri through the glass shopfront. He’s slumped bonelessly into his chair, head lifted off the table just enough to look at something on his phone. Repede lounges in the shade under the table at his feet. Now that Flynn’s looking at both of them together, it’s a little disconcerting how healthy Repede is in direct contrast with how wrecked Yuri seems. Flynn shakes himself out of his thoughts long enough to collect the tray with their food and take it outside.

“So,” he says. Yuri grabs his coffee off the tray without looking before Flynn can even put it down all the way. His phone stays out until Flynn is all the way into his seat. “What’s new with you?”

Yuri shrugs. His gaze flickers up to meet Flynn’s, then back down to his croissant. “I told you, not a lot. Same routine as usual.”

“What about your new roommates?” Flynn presses.

“I don’t know what to tell you about them.”

That’s fine. Flynn works out enough to carry this conversation for a long while. Yuri will probably loosen up once Flynn can get him going. “Well, what are their names? What do they do?”

“Judy and Estelle, they’re the ones with jobs. Judy bartends and waitresses. She’s a real livewire. She does kickboxing and capoeira on the side. Estelle’s got a part time at the local library, and Hanks is a little soft on her, so he’s been giving her a little money for helping with tutoring at the community center. She’s pretty good at it, he’s been trying to get her to start her own gig. Made her draft some flyers and everything.”

“They sound fun,” Flynn says, a little wistfully. He wonders if Judy gets to spar with Yuri. He misses being able to do that. He wouldn’t mind meeting this Estelle, either—ever since Miss Estellise went missing, he hasn’t had anyone to discuss fine literature with. For a fleeting second he wonders if maybe, possibly Estelle is Estellise. Surely, though, someone would have said something to the police by now if that were true? Flynn had a meeting with Alexei just last week, and he said she was still missing. “How’d you meet them?”

“Judy and I used to work together. We both got fired for not putting up with a customer’s bullshit.” Of course they did. That’s Yuri all over. “We stayed friends after that, and she moved in a while ago after... stuff. Her business, not mine to tell. Estelle and I met at the community center. She needed a place to stay so I’m putting her up until she sorts herself out.”

“That’s very kind of you.” And just as typically Yuri as the way he got fired. He never could look away while somebody needed help and he might be able to provide it. Yuri shrugs off the praise. “You said there are others?”

“Karol and Rita,” Yuri says. He knocks back a long swig of coffee. “School kids. Twelve and fifteen. Babies, really. Technically, legally speaking, Judy and I are fostering them.”

“Didn’t Schwann—I mean, Dr. Oltorain, he said you’re in a two-bedroom apartment. They let you foster with five people in a two-bedroom apartment? How old is Judy, to be their second guardian?”

Yuri opens his mouth, starts to say something, and then closes it. This process repeats another couple times. Flynn remembers, with the beginnings of dread, that this is Yuri’s usual response to inquiries where the answer is possibly illegal, definitely not great, and sure to disappoint Flynn.

“Yuri...”

“I don’t want to lie to you, but...”

“Yuri, honestly.”

“You asked for it. Rav—Doctor... man, what the fuck is his name? All-terrain?”

“Repede has had the same vet for his entire life. How do you not know his name?”

“I know his name, just not that one.” Yuri gives him a deeply aggrieved look, like Flynn is the unreasonable one here. “He let us pretend we were living with him for the inspection.”

“He what?!”

“I didn’t want to tell you because you obviously respect him, but you asked.”

“That’s—God, that’s not even fair to the kids!”

“You’re right,” Yuri says, visibly losing patience by the second. “It’s so fucked up of me to let the kids—who chose this, I’ll point out—decide that they’d rather live with young adults they trust in temporarily less-than-ideal circumstances instead of, you know, going back to abusive households or a fucking orphanage or something.”

“Children don’t always know what’s best for them—“

“And adults don’t always listen enough to know what’s best for them, either.”

“Other people in their lives can help make that call!”

“Yeah, they did. Do you think Raven helped us get custody because we’re inept guardians?” Yuri slams a hand against the table top. His coffee sloshes dangerously in its cup. “Do you think Hanks would let me do this if he thought it was an unlivable situation? Do you think I haven’t looked at the apartment and wondered if this is really fucking okay? I don’t want them to have to live like this, Flynn! But if Karol isn’t with us, he’ll be with someone who hits him! I’m not alright with that! If Rita isn’t with us, she’ll be self-isolating and self-destructing with some stranger she hates who doesn’t care as long as she’s not actively causing them trouble and they still get a paycheck! I’m not just going to sit on my ass and watch that happen because my apartment is small right now!”

His volume gets higher and higher as he talks, until he’s almost shouting at the end. He’s on the edge of his chair, hackles raised, hands clenching the edge of the table. Flynn watches him, frozen in place. Yuri’s chest heaves for breath for a moment, until he collapses backwards into his chair, throat working with a hard swallow. When he talks again, it’s quieter.

“We’re... we’re working on it, alright? We’re trying to find a new place. Between me and Judy and Estelle, we should be able to upgrade to a three-bedroom, if we find a cheap one that isn’t also, like, filled with asbestos or some shit.”

“I had no idea,” Flynn says, softly. “I shouldn’t have—I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Yuri says, wearily. “Yell at Yuri first, ask questions later. Standard procedure.”

“You know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?”

“I’m not—you know I’ve always respected your ability to follow through in hard situations, but sometimes it’s just... I worry about you.”

“You have a weird way of showing it,” Yuri mutters.

“You never listen to me when I try to be more subtle about it!”

“When the hell have you tried to be subtle about it?!” Yuri props an elbow on the edge of the table so he can sink his face into his palm. “You never ask questions before you flip out on me, you never go ‘hey, maybe that’s not a great idea, could you explain why you’re doing it that way?’ You just jump straight down my damn throat to chew me out! Sometimes shit isn’t so clear cut, alright? I know it’s my own fault for putting myself in these situations in the first place, but sometimes you have to make a hard call.”

“I—“ Flynn rubs his hands over his own face, breathing through gritted teeth. Only Yuri has ever been this infuriating. “Why does it always have to be you? You’re always the one making the hard calls. Why can’t you let somebody else take the heat for once? Why can’t you ever give yourself a break?”

“How am I supposed to know anybody else will follow through? I can’t leave that to chance.”

“Of course you can’t.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not trying to! How are you so determined to defend the value of human compassion and so cynical about other people at the same time? It makes no sense.”

“Are you seriously asking me why I’m cynical about the foster system?”

Flynn winces.

“Look, a lot of people are good. Karol and Rita and Judy and Estelle, they’re good. The people who would have power over them if I backed down and let things happen, they’re shit-tier, awful people. This isn’t, like, commentary on humanity. These specific people suck.”

“So get some good people with power involved.”

“Like who?”

“Like—I don’t know, like Schwann. Why couldn’t you live with him for real?”

Yuri laughs, but it sounds a little hysterical. “Flynn, Schwann Oltorain is an alcoholic.”

“What? No.”

“I told you, Judy and I see him a lot at our bartending jobs. Too much.”

“That’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not. If it was, I’d let him take Karol. Karol likes Raven. But I think nihilistic drunk and childcare don’t really mix. So Karol stays with me until Judy can bully Raven into attending some AA meetings.”

“He never acts drunk or hungover at the clinic.”

“So what? A high-functioning alcoholic is still an alcoholic.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as—“

“Raven agrees with me.”

...There wasn’t really a way to argue with that.

“Can I... I just want to try to explain myself.”

“By all means.” Yuri crosses his arms.

“You’re... I know it’s been a long time since we talked, but you’re still my best friend, you know that? I get it if you don’t feel that way about me anymore, but... It just feels like you’re always taking the risky moves to protect everyone else and it keeps blowing up in your face, over and over again. And I do worry about you, I really, really do. And I respect that you want to help people, and I respect that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself in the process, but it feels like you take bigger risks than you need to, sometimes, and that freaks me out.”

Yuri sighs. “What’s the smaller risk I could be taking, here?”

“I’m not even talking about this specific problem, it’s just. In general. I’m more worried about the pattern. I don’t know, get the bigger apartment first before you adopt the kids?”

“If I left the kids where they were, they’d still be getting abused while I got my shit together,” Yuri says. The fight has gone out of him again, and he just looks tired. “Besides, they’re the ones who kept showing up. The whole reason we bothered to put the paperwork through was so we wouldn’t get charged with kidnapping.”

“Jesus, Yuri.”

“I’m flattered, but no, I’m still regular old Yuri Lowell.”

Flynn snorts despite himself. “There’s nothing regular about you.”

“I’m gonna pretend that’s a compliment.”

“Good, that’s how I meant it.”

“Uh-huh. Can we change the subject now?”

“Yeah, okay.” Flynn stirs his soup a little, eating a spoonful while he thinks. It’s gone lukewarm in the time he and Yuri were arguing. “New roommates, apartment shopping... Is anything else new with you?”

“Well,” Yuri says. He’s staring down into his coffee. “Estelle had me do some tests, and it turns out I’m dyslexic. Probably. So that’s something.”

Flynn feels his face fall as he processes the news. How many years did they go to school together? Twelve? Thirteen? And he never once guessed, none of the times Yuri complained that reading was just a confusing jumble of words, none of the times Flynn watched him sit down and force himself to read something two, three times before he could glean enough information from it to answer whatever questions he needed to.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” he says. He starts to reach across the table, then hesitates, then makes himself finish the action. His fingertips glance over Yuri’s wrist, just above his bracelet. Yuri’s eyes flick to his hand and stay there. “For—for not noticing, and for how hard that must—“

Yuri snorts. “Hard? It’s not like it’s doing me any harm now. I’m a dropout. You don’t exactly read all that much in the service industry.”

“Are you joking?” Flynn asks, incredulously. “Do you really think this had nothing to do with you dropping out?”

Yuri finally looks up at that, his mouth set in a grim mockery of a smile. “I mean, speaking as the one who dropped out, I’m pretty sure it was just because I blew my chance, man.”

“You’re impossible.”

Yuri shrugs. He’s done it so many times during this conversation that Flynn is starting to hate it a little bit. “Sure.”

“Can you take this seriously? Please, Yuri.”

“You used up all of my emotional honesty tokens on the last topic.”

“I really hate it when you do this.”

“Do what?”

“You get so flippant whenever you get fucked over. This is exactly why I worry about you. Would it kill you to let yourself be mad about it for once? To let me be mad for you for once?”

“If we get mad about the injustice of fate or the universe or whatever, we’ll never stop being mad. We’ll just burn out.”

“You’re already always mad.”

“Yeah, but sustainably.”

“...Elaborate.”

“I’m mad at societal systems, not the universe. We can do something to change societal systems. It’s productive anger.”

Flynn sighs, taking his hand away from Yuri’s arm to run it through his hair. As though societal systems have nothing to do with Yuri’s learning disorder and academic issues? Of course, Yuri never applies these things to himself. Somehow it only counts for other people. Flynn doesn’t know why it surprises him anymore. “Okay. Sure. Productive anger, I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m done with talking about myself,” Yuri says, abruptly. “What about you? What’s new with you? How’s vet school?”

“It’s good,” Flynn says, reflexively. It’s just Yuri. Flynn doesn’t need to persuade him that he deserves his place there. “Hard,” he admits after another beat. “It’s a lot to keep up with.”

“Yeah, it’s like... med school lite, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think that’s a very good way to describe it, but I haven’t been to med school, so I guess I don’t know. You would hate it, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s not really breaks, on a day-to-day level. And you start by covering anatomy with a lot of dissections.”

“...Ouch.” Yuri’s face twists into an uncomfortable moue. He always did hate dissections in high school. It’s cute, in a way, knowing that his big heart is behind it. Flynn doesn’t miss the discrete way he shifts in his seat, either, presumably bumping his legs against Repede to reassure himself. Repede makes a sleepy whuffling sound. “How about friends? Roommates? Hot dates?”

“No roommates,” Flynn says, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve got some study buddies from my classes, but we don’t do much together aside from classwork. It’s hard to have any kind of social life outside academia in vet school. Classes and labs and studying take up so much of my time... and now the clinic, too.”

Yuri flicks a piece of croissant at him. It lands in Flynn’s soup. This is the asshole Flynn is too hung up on to date other people. “If you’re that busy, you shouldn’t—“

“Don’t you dare tell me I shouldn’t be spending time with you,” Flynn warns him. It comes out a lot sharper than he means it to; Yuri’s eyes go wide. He won’t take it back, though, not when he can see in Yuri’s face that he guessed correctly. “Working with Schwann, and getting to see you again—it reminds me why I’m doing all this work, you know? And I have to know what you’re up to if I’m supposed to keep up.”

“You, keeping up with me?” Yuri snorts. “I think you’ve got that backwards.”

“You’re already helping people in the real world,” Flynn says. “I’m still in training.”

“You don’t exactly ignore people in need either, dude.”

“Take the damn compliment.”

“Oh my God, fine. Stop trying to kick me, you’re going to hit Repede.”

“You’re such a pain.”

“I’m a fucking delight,” Yuri says, solemnly, then breaks into a proud grin when Flynn throws his head back and laughs. “Come on. You really haven’t made any friends at vet school? None?”

“The first year of vet school is hard!”

“Wow. That’s just sad.”

“I’m hoping to join some student organizations or sports clubs next semester, when I’ve got my feet under me.”

“...You think you’d go back to fencing?”

Flynn chews on his lip. “...I don’t know. It might feel wrong, without you and Coach Niren and the rest of the team.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you...”

“Still miss him?”

“Yeah.”

Yuri wordlessly holds up his wrist. Flynn doesn’t need further elaboration on the worn-down bracelet. He remembers just as well as Yuri when Niren passed the leather cords out to the team on the bus to a tournament. Hisca and Chastel taught them all how to do the braiding so that the bracelet size was adjustable. Yuri’s didn’t turn out half bad, but Flynn’s is lumpy and misshapen. It doesn’t adjust as much as it’s supposed to.

“I’ve still got mine, too,” Flynn says. He fishes it out of his pocket. His keys are connected to it. “We can’t have accessories during labs and I wouldn’t want to get all that junk on it anyway, so...”

Yuri smiles crookedly. “Yours will last longer than mine, then.”

“Maybe.” It’s already in better shape than Yuri’s. “You’ve got Repede, though.”

“Repede isn’t just a reminder of Coach and Lambert,” Yuri says, defensively. Repede stirs at their feet at the mention of his name. Flynn reaches over to pat Yuri’s arm in placation.

“I know, I know. Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“...You ended up with any pets of your own yet?”

“My current apartment doesn’t allow it... my lease is up soon, though. I’m hoping to move somewhere that lets me have a dog.” It would be hard, taking care of a dog and keeping up with vet school, but maybe it would help him with his work-life balance.

“Ha. We could do play-dates with your dog and Repede.”

Flynn feels his eyes crinkle up with his grin. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

They just smile at each other for a second. It’s still a little awkward, not quite as smooth as their conversations used to be, but Flynn already feels lighter than he has in months. Yuri looks a hundred times better than he did when he showed up. He nibbles at his croissant instead of just poking at it, and he’s relinquished his death grip on the coffee cup. Flynn opens his mouth to say something disgustingly sentimental—

And a loud beep makes them both jump about a foot in the air. Flynn forces himself to relax while Yuri curses and scrambles for his phone. Repede lurches into motion below the table, hackles raised. “Shit, sorry, I set a timer—goddamn, have we really been talking that long? I’m supposed to pick Rita up—“

“Oh, no, are you late?”

“Not yet, that’s what the timer’s for. Hey, do you need a ride anywhere? I can drop you off—”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to delay you—“

“You’ll delay me more by being wishy-washy. Yes or no, Flynn?”

“Yes,” Flynn says, firmly. “If you could drop me off at the clinic, that would be great. Where are you parked? I’ll bus our table while you get the car warmed up.”

Yuri waves a hand vaguely to the east and sprints off with Repede before Flynn can ask him to elaborate. Flynn rolls his eyes, but he still can’t wipe the silly grin off his face. Classic Yuri. They haven’t solved any of their problems yet, not for real, but maybe... maybe this time around, they’ve got a shot at it.

#fluri #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #tales of vesperia #Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In #long post #not art

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71tenseventeen · 5 years

Text

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)-11

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Warnings for sexual content, male pregnancy, non-hockey Sid. Sid and Taylor’s ages have been altered to fit the story.

Perpetual credit to my betas, @queen-alia and @icosahedonist as well as the GC and @ljummen.

Sid would gladly stay in the pool all day but after a couple of hours Geno finally lures him out with the promise of good food and they share lunch together at the kitchen island. After lunch the two of them head down to Geno’s media room for a movie.

Sid heads straight for one of the Penguins-themed recliners while Geno is busy looking for the remote control. There’s a book on the table next to the chair Sid chooses and he scoops it up to read the cover. The Baby Book: Everything You Need to Know about Your Baby from Birth to Age Two. There’s a photo of babies on the cover and a couple of Post-it notes sticking out near the beginning of the book. He holds it up with a smile. “Any good?”

Geno glances up and that is definitely a blush when he sees what Sid’s holding. “Just get started.”

Sid sits and flips through the book, noting that Geno has started highlighting parts of a list called The Seven Baby B’s of Attachment and smiles at Geno who is settling in the chair next to him. “It looks interesting.”

Geno shrugs but Sid can see the hint of a smile that he’s holding back. “Like I say, just get started but look like has some good stuff to learn. This book only talk about after they born, though. I need to find book on how baby develop now. Ordered some in Russian but take a few more days to get here.”

“I’ve been reading some good websites and the doctor did give me some pamphlets and book recommendations. I got one at the library but didn’t really like it.”

“What you not like about?”

“It just felt, I don’t know, harsh or something. I just keep thinking this little baby is going to be here and depend on us for everything. This book made it seem a little bit like the baby is your enemy that you have conquer. I guess that’s just not really my style.”

Geno makes a face. “Not sound like my style either.”

Sid flips through the book again. “Maybe I’ll check this one out from the library.”

“Okay. And if you find other good one, tell me too.”

Sid smiles at him. “Deal. So what are we watching?”

“Goonies.”

“Really?” Sid’s face lights up.

“I know, is probably silly but I start to watch with Gonch girls and never get to finish.”

“No, Geno, I love The Goonies.”

Geno beams at him. “Nice to know baby daddy have good taste,” he says and laughs at Sid’s resulting honks of laughter.

It’s not until later, when they’re toting their cups and popcorn bowls back to the kitchen, quoting lines from the movie at each other that Sid’s phone rings again and he looks at it with a frown. He’d forgotten all about the call earlier but now there are two messages.

“Everything okay?” Geno is peering at him curiously.

“Yeah, it’s just I got two messages from a number I don’t know.”

“Should listen, see what it is.”

Sid’s heart sinks when he listens to the message. He does his best to school his expression into something neutral but he can tell by the furrow of Geno’s brow that it’s not working.

When the message ends, he puts down his phone and swallows hard. He hates that he’s upset about this. This is logical, he tells himself. Of course this is something that Geno would need and there is no reason that it should sting the way it does. If he needs Sid to sign a non-disclosure agreement then Sid will do it. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine. Just fine.

“If you wanted me to sign something, you could have just asked me,” he blurts out and regrets it immediately when Geno’s eyes fly wide open.

“What?”

“The non-disclosure agreement.”

Geno’s face goes from confused to incensed between one blink and the next. “Who that message from?”

“Some guy from Pens PR. He said they already talked to you about it yesterday.”

Geno sets his jaw. “And I tell them under no circumstances to ask you that. How they even get your number?!” He scrambles around, presumably looking for his phone while Sid lets that sink in.

“Wait, you told them not to?”

“Of course told them not to. And they do anyway!”

“Why?”

Geno stops and looks at Sid, confused. “What you mean why?”

“Why did you tell them not to ask me that?”

“Because we gonna have a baby, Sid, not fucking business contract!”

“Oh.” It’s all Sid has time to get out before Geno turns on his heel and charges out of the kitchen and Sid’s left trying to process everything that just happened.

Geno told his agent and the entire Pens PR and legal teams about Sid and the baby and then refused to let them contact Sid. He told them no. And why? Because he didn’t want it to feel like a business transaction.

Geno did that. For him. For their baby. He could have easily asked Sid for a NDA when he asked him to see a new doctor but he didn’t and apparently didn’t plan to. Warm fondness washes over Sid for a split second before he remembers that Geno is on his way to rip someone’s head off and he scrambles to catch up.

By the time he tracks Geno down in the media room, he can already hear him talking.

“...make it very clear I not want anyone bother Sid! Understand you have job to do but I very clear about this! I already say I talk to him about doctor, work with him on stay private. Sid have enough to worry about—not need you calling and scare!”

Oh no. This sounds bad and the last thing Sid wants is for Geno to get himself into trouble over this.

“Yes, I’m aware is risk but is my baby and my risk to take!”

Geno lets out a frustrated growl and pinches the bridge of his nose as he listens.

“Understand organization trying to protect but not need this! Can’t believe you go behind my back like this!”

And oh god, Sid’s anxiety spikes. “Geno?” He doesn’t want to interrupt but he can’t have Geno getting in trouble over this. He just can’t.

Geno whirls around and, taking in Sid’s anxious expression, says, “Have to go. You not contact him again,” and hangs up the phone.

“Call them back. I’ll sign the agreement, it’s not a big deal.”

“No. No way.” This is the first time Sid has seen Geno dig in his heels like this and it confuses him.

‘I’m not mad about it. I understand.”

Geno frowns. “I’m sorry they call you and make you think this something I want. I don’t want and I tell them that.”

“They’re just trying to protect you.”

“Not necessary. Know you not cause problems, not need NDA. Period.” His tone indicates that the conversation is over and maybe it is for now but when Sid finally heads home later, he finds the number and leaves a message.

“This is Sidney Crosby. You left me a message earlier. I’ll sign the NDA.”

It takes a couple of days to coordinate but eventually Sid finds himself back at the arena, meeting with a man who introduces himself as Parker from Public Relations. He feels a little guilty for going against Geno’s wishes but at least now there can’t be any doubt in their minds—Sid wants to protect Geno, too. He sits quietly as Parker explains the terms of the contract—basically preventing him from disclosing information about the pregnancy or his relationship with Geno to a very long list of people. It’s not like he plans to tell anyone other than his family anyway but something inside him twists sourly as he listens Parker speak to him as if he’s some kind of criminal.

As soon as Parker hands him a copy of the document he stands to leave, anxious to get out of there.

“One more thing, Mr. Crosby,” he says and Sid stops, wondering what else they could want from him.

“We would like you to do a paternity test.”

Sid gapes. “What?”

“The organization needs to be sure that you’re not faking the pregnancy and that Evgeni really is the father. Surely you can understand that.”

“He is,” Sid bites out, feeling like he’s been slapped.

“Then you shouldn’t have any problem taking the test. Dr. Vyas informs me it’s just a simple blood draw—nothing invasive.”

“Geno would have told me if he wanted one.”

“Would he, though?” Parker cocks his head, looking at Sid as though he’s trash. “If he’d upset you, you could have gone public and outed him. He had to keep you happy.”

Sid grits his teeth, willing himself not to cry. “I would never do that.”

“Then you should prove that with a paternity test. Don’t you think you owe him this, at least, after everything he’s risking for you?”

Sid looks away, has to swallow before he mutters. “Fine.”

He’s introduced to Dr. Vyas who seems nice enough but it doesn’t matter. Sid feels sick before the blood draw ever happens. Everything he’s risking for you… Parker had said, making it clear what the organization thought of him. Sid blinks back his tears as the kind doctor does the blood draw. It doesn’t matter how it makes him feel if it will help protect Geno.

Part 12

#Take My Hand #my fic #sidgeno #rpf #mpreg #11 #two updates today!#You asked for it!#The update AND the angst

122 notes · View notes

actuarystudies · 6 years

Text

Since I’m going into my third year, I’ve learnt a lot about studying, university, and anything to go with it. Here are some tips I’ve learned along the way.

BOOKS

Don’t buy your books from the bookstore (unless you need the online code to go with the textbook). Some professors are totally cool with old editions, if that’s the case, try buying that because it saves a lot of money. Make sure that if you need the textbook code (some profs have online assignments through the textbooks software), you buy it. Best places to buy books are through Amazon, your cities buy & sell, and some universities have things like a Facebook group for textbook buy and sell! A lot of my friends and I will share books if they’ve already been in a class.

Don’t buy your textbooks before the first class. Sometimes what the university’s website says is “mandatory” is not. The first class, the teacher usually addresses this.

Check out your university library. If you want a head start, take the book out from them.

STUDYING

Switch up your location. School is much more independent now, so you’ll be studying more than in high school. Changing locations helps make studying a bit more fun. I love studying at the university libraries now.

Calculate the amount studied, per class, per day. I almost always need my laptop while studying, so I have a stopwatch open and an excel doc where I keep this saved. This way I keep track of which classes I give more attention to, and how much I’ve studied before a quiz/test/exam. It also helped me find out the maximum time I can study in a day.

Plan out how each week will usually look like. This includes how much time you’ll be in which class, when you’ll be at work, commuting times (if you don’t live on campus), and when you plan to study. Usually I plan to study 1-3 hours in the evening (not including breaks) on days I have classes, but if I don’t have class, then I expect a good 4-5.5 hours of studying.

Finding your note taking method. The first month I would come home and re-copy all my notes, but that took up way too much of my time. I suggest before school starts, try a few possible methods out. Some people just come in with a notebook and copy, I prefer printing the slides and adding additional notes if needed, but some like to do this on a tablet or a computer. Whatever you choose is up to you.

Study even if the course load seems low. Even if the first month of school seems “chill” and like there’s nothing to do, go out and study! Do *not* fall in the trap that so many students fall into. After the first class, plan the semester. Get ahead, because it’s easy to fall behind.

ORGANIZATION & HELPFUL RESOURCES

Keep some type of planner. I know bullet journals are loved on here, but they may not be for everyone. Keeping a planner helps me what I have to study that day, but also for the week and the month.

Have a list of all assignments, quizzes, exams, or anything you’ll be tested on throughout the semester. The profs job isn’t to remind you when there’s a test. But having a compiled list of everything that’s “due” for you that term *really* helps you out.

Websites & apps that should become your bestie. For writing, use a combination of the Hemingway app, and Grammarly. For decluttering, or sharing information, use CamScanner, Google Drive/Dropbox to hold all the papers you might need once the semester is over. After each semester, try moving all the files, assignments, and papers onto a Dropbox to avoid clutter and not crowd your laptop. Chances you won’t need the papers are high, but in some cases it’s handy.

Don’t ever be scared of office hours. It’s your prof’s time to help you. If you can’t make the time, email them your question or ask to meet with them at another time. This is a super helpful opportunity!

FIRST FEW DAYS

Tour the campus & get your student card while your at it. Before school starts, I suggest you go by yourself and “tour” the campus. Find out where all your classes and how to get to them. Also find out where some of the libraries are near your classes if you want to get some studying in for a break. Try getting your student card before school starts if you can.

Read over the syllabus beforehand. Ask the teacher any questions on the first day if needed. Also plan your semester as soon as you get this.

Meet someone in each of your classes. People for the most part are really nice! Get their phone number too so you can text them if your late or miss a class.

Set up your school email (& any other resources to communicate with your professors) and test it. This is super handy, and you'll need to use it all semester anyways.

WHAT TO BUY

A laptop & a backpack.

Have a pencil case, fill it with: an eraser, 2 pencils(& lead if they’re mechanical), 2 pens, and correction tape. You’ll need this for exams so even if you’re going electronic, you gotta have this.

Having an agenda and some notebooks are always handy. Even though I keep a bullet journal, it’s easier for me to leave that at home some days and use a planner.

WELLBEING

Self-care. Have a little note to self of some self care things. Do one thing whenever your stressed and need it.

Keep active. The freshmen 15 is real! It’s much easier not gaining weight than trying to loose it later. Being in university is sedentary, so try making fitness something you do at least 2-3 times a week. More often than not universities will have a gym membership included in your tuition. But other low cost options include running, cycling, at home workouts, yoga, etc.

Make sure you have adequate sleep. 8 hours isn’t always possible, but you need 6 hours to function properly. I found my best school results happened when I went to bed at 9:30pm and woke up at 5:30am.

Try making your food as much as possible. Even if it’s just a sandwich. Buying takeout is expensive and unhealthy. Easy options for meals include: smoothie & smoothie bowls, oatmeal, Buddha bowls, sandwiches/wraps, pasta, etc.

I try making meditation a habit. I love the app Insight Timer (its free), but I know others like Calm, and Headspace as well. There’s also a ton on YouTube. Sleep meditations can help you get to sleep a little earlier too.

Try being on technology less. I know it’s tempting, but you’ll be on it a lot for school, your brain needs a bit of a break.

I hope this helped! Good luck at your first year, and if you need anything, send me an ask or message me. ✨

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the-paris-of-people · 5 years

Text

That Cute Couple You See at a Coffee Shop

SURPRISE! (Or not?) I’m your @tgpsecretsanta @alys07! I hope you enjoy this Cheleanor Cinderella Story/College AU I wrote for you! You can read it on AO3 or down in the cut below!

P.S. special thanks to @chidi-anagonye for editing! <3

Summary: What happens when Chidi and Eleanor begin messaging each other online, with no idea of who the other really is?

Words: 5555

I got my latte with almond milk this morning, pinged Chidi’s penpal. A special shoutout to you, bud.

A grin slipped onto Chidi’s lips. He was in the middle of class, his seminar about Middle Eastern civilization, but still he typed back,

I’m jealous. But! at least you’re able to enjoy it without any of my agony and guilt.

Did you just make a joke? She wrote back. Look at you! I’m impressed. Character development.

You taught me well.

“Chidi!” Tahani hissed, catching Chidi in the middle of his lovestruck look at his computer. “Chidi!” She cried again, tapping his desk with her manicured index finger.

“Huh? What?”

“Look, I know you are quite infatuated with this mystery girl, but can you please pay attention for one moment so we can meet with our group project partners?”

“Right! Sorry!” Chidi cleared his throat. As he whipped out his notes from his backpack, Tahani squinted at Chidi’s iMessage. Blushing furiously, Chidi clicked the ‘X’ at the corner of the window. The last thing Tahani needed to see were his ramblings from last night, after he told his mystery friend that he wished they were a couple he had seen at the coffeehouse, studying together, staring into each other’s eyes. He then panicked because he realized how desperate he sounded. To cover for his semi-flirty messages, he typed out a long explanation, spanning paragraphs, but it didn’t work. He was bad at lying, and the worst part was, he wasn’t even drunk. He was just that awkward.

“Ugh,” Tahani sighed, flopping down in the seat next to him dramatically. “Chidi, you obviously like this girl. It’s been three months. Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?”

“First of all,” Chidi shut his laptop. “You should not be reading my messages! Also, no. It wouldn’t be right to disclose my feelings if she doesn’t have all of the information she can possibly can have about me. And! I don’t know if she has a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or if she’s romantically interested in any gender at all! It would be ethically unsound for me to dump that burden on her. And since finals are approaching, and it might distract her, too!”

“I mean that’s technically true, but still-“

“Alright!” interrupted Eleanor, the de facto leader of their project team, barreling in from the doorway. “Let’s get to work!”

Perfect timing, Chidi thought, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Did you just get to class?” he inquired, eyeing the coffee cup still in hand and scarf around her neck. It didn’t surprise him, Eleanor always came late, but still, it floored Chidi how she strolled in with unabashed confidence. Chidi shriveled away when he arrived even one minute late, how could Eleanor muster the guts to come forty five minutes after class began?

“Long line at Michael’s,” Eleanor explained, setting her cup down and pulling her messy notes onto the desk. As Chidi learned from their midterm presentation, Eleanor wasn’t the best student, but she was the best at organizing their projects of the four of them. Unlike Chidi, she didn’t waver on which details to include and unlike Tahani, she wasn’t concerned with how to woo the teacher for self-validation. And unlike Jason, she actually had… a brain, so she could contribute sometimes.

(To be honest, Chidi didn’t know how Jason got into college at all. Not that he minded having him there, he always offered free snacks at their group meetings, but he wasn’t... the sharpest tool in the shed)

“By the way, I saw Jason nuzzling with Janet by the windows,” Eleanor mentioned. “ So I guess they’re not coming either.”

“Wait, Jason and Janet together?” Tahani asked, flabbergasted. Tahani wasn’t the only one surprised. Jason was a great guy but Janet wasn’t exactly... his type. She was pretty, funny, president of the student body and the Scholars Club. On top of that, she knew everything. He wasn’t exaggerating. She literally knew everything. Sometimes his friend Simone joked she was secretly a robot. “Since when have they been… dating?”

“I wouldn’t say they’ve been ‘dating’ if you know what I mean,” Eleanor snorted. She flipped through her stack of loose leaf paper and pulled out her project notes, clicking into her planning mode, “Alright, so we have five more days to put together our final presentation, and from what I remember from what we talked about on Tuesday, no one has any weekend finals, so I vote we get together Saturday and Sunday and just bang this shiz out, ya feel me?” Proud of her quick thinking, Eleanor laid back in her seat and propped her feet up on Jason’s vacant chair.

“Oh!” Tahani clucked. “I’m sorry Eleanor! But no can do!”

“I’m sorry?” Eleanor sat back up.

“What Tahani is trying to say is, the Scholars Club has a ball on Saturday of winter finals week,” Chidi filled her in, “And since Tahani and I are on the board, we’re busy planning until Saturday, and then on Sunday, we have to clean up and debrief, so it probably won’t be until Monday that we can work on the presentation.”

“Seriously?” Eleanor threw her head back and groaned. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

“Well, we’ve been caught up with other finals, Scholars Club events, I’m part of the Plato society…”

“Oh my god, I get it, you ner-” Eleanor paused mid-sentence.

Chidi cocked his head at her. Was she about to say nerds? Huh. He felt like he had heard that phrase from somewhere, but he couldn’t place where…

“-naturally very busy overachievers,” Eleanor covered. She froze for a second before flapping her lips exasperatedly, folding up her notes and shoving them back into her backpack. “I guess we’ll just do it on Monday around my philosophy final, then.”

“I’m sorry, Eleanor,” Tahani patted her hand. “But I promise I’ll come by your dorm tonight to give you that face cream. It will make all your blemishes disappear!”

“Tahani, I never said-”

“Oh, I’m so excited to see your triple, Eleanor!” Tahani interrupted, clapping her hands together. “I bet it’s just so… quaint.”

She shot her one last grin before gathering all her books and striding away, her floral dress billowing behind her. Eleanor’s mouth dropped open at she watched Tahani exit, still wondering what just happened.

“Don’t worry,” Chidi told her. “She gave me face cream last week, too. You don’t need it.”

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled before she coughed and stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. For some reason, Chidi found himself liking the way her eyes glimmered under the fluorescent lights, how the ends of her mouth softened, how her cheeks tinted pink. She looked pretty.

Calm down, Chidi, he scolded himself as he shook his head. One crush at a time.

***

I ate a quesadilla for lunch today, Chidi texted mystery girl later that day, at the library with Uzo. And now I have a giant stomach ache.

I’m sorry, philosophy cutie, she instantly replied. I wish you didn’t feel so sick all the time :(

The campus health center is open until 7. She added. Maybe you can make an appointment? She sent him a link to the online appointment maker.

I have to study for my psych final tomorrow, Chidi messaged. But thank you for checking for me. That was really nice of you.

Guess you’re not the only one with character development. :)

Chidi chuckled to himself. He began crafting a witty response, clicking on the urban dictionary link he bookmarked to match her constant use of casual slang. He felt Uzo peering over his shoulder and turned around.

“Shrimp freak again?” Uzo lifted an eyebrow.

Chidi nodded.

Uzo, his childhood best friend, his roommate, his pseudo-brother, was one of the only people who knew the full story. Of how Chidi wrote under a pen name for the university’s online philosophy zine. Of how one day, “StoneColdSteveAustinfreak” had commented on his post, mocking his rigidity and suggesting he “lighten up.” Chidi responded politely, requesting that she directly contact him for her difference in perspective, and two days later, he received a message from shrimpfreak1014 over his newspaper gmail chat. At the time, he was refining his midterm paper for deontology, checking every now and again for messages. Somehow, he remained embroiled in an argument with her until three A.M.

She irritated Chidi to to end. She was argumentative, and she made fun of his nerdy habits, and her sense of humor was cruder than he liked. But at the same time, Chidi didn’t want to stop talking to her. She was sharp and witty and unlike anyone he’d ever met. She was selfish, but she was trying to be better. She was rude, but she apologized when she went too far. She coined herself as a moral particularist, yet she sometimes cited Kant in her arguments, emphasizing when she did just to tease him.

And soon, as their chats grew more and more frequent, they became closer. She messaged him during her work breaks, and he talked to her while he worked on his homework late at night, bags sagging under his eyes as he alternated between his essay about Plato to their discussion of Tim Scanlon. They were friends, advisors, maybe even confidantes, their conversations ranging from philosophy to their favorite coffeehouse on campus to their lives outside of university. She told him how she emancipated from her parents at fourteen, how she worked three jobs to pay off her student loans, how she decided to become a better person after a near-death experience getting her stomach pumped. He confided that his grandmother passed away last year and he missed her, he missed the snacks she used to send and the stews she used to serve. Since then, he told her, he had been more anxious than usual, the simplest of decisions causing his palms to sweat and his leg to bounce .

Listen, dude, how about this? She wrote. Since you’ve been my dorky mentor and you’ve helped me a better person and all the junk, why don’t I help you make decisions? I’m good at that stuff, anyway.

You would do that? He asked.

Yeah, man, I owe it to you! She insisted. The next time you freak out over a big decision just come to me.

And so he came to her each time he freaked out, faced with a choice between white or black, right or left, frozen mocha or coffee.

Just get the frozen mocha, she would reply, as if choosing was so easy. You don’t even like the taste of fair trade coffee at the cafe, so why not get something you enjoy?

You’re right, said Chidi, shocked at her ability to choose without qualms. And so they went on, Chidi as her philosophy mentor and shrimpfreak as his decision maker, and Chidi found himself aching for her messages. During the day, his mind began drifting to her: how perfectly she complemented Chidi, how since they started talking, he softened her and she strengthened him. He wonder about her in ways he shouldn’t, about how her eyes were probably bright and fearless, about if her mouth would curl after a quip, about how her skin would feel against his, cuddling in Chidi’s bed-

No, no, no. It was wrong. How could he have a crush on her when-

“Chidi?” Uzo waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him back to reality. “Chidi? Dude, are you freaking out about your crush on shrimp freak again?”

“A little,” Chidi squeaked. “Okay, well a lot,” He admitted. “I can’t handle this anymore, Uzo! I mean I’ve kept this from her for way too long, and I’m the one who’s always maintained a moral code of honesty! And if I do tell her how I feel, it could potentially destroy our relationship and all the progress she’s made! And who am I to destroy progress, Uzo? I don’t have that kind of authority!”

“Listen, you’ve got to calm down, man,” Uzo advised, while Chidi gasped for air. “Look, it seems like this is eating you alive inside…”

“Pretty much everything does!”

“Right, but it seems like you like her a lot, so… why don’t you put yourself out there? ” He punched Chidi lightly on the shoulder. “Ask her to the Scholars Club ball.”

“The Scholars Club ball?”

“The Scholars Club ball.” Uzo nodded. “Just so you have a shot at meeting in person. I mean, it’s been four months and you don’t even know her real name. You can just go as friends, too. No pressure. But this way, you don’t have to worry about her not knowing who you really are, and if you want, you can come clean and tell her about your feelings.”

“Huh. That’s not a bad idea, actually.” Chidi pondered, tilting his head. If they went to the Scholar’s Ball together, they could have a lot of fun. Shrimpfreak could meet Uzo and Tahani and Simone, and they could talk and laugh all through the night. And maybe, just maybe, (just a thought!) they could slow-dance together, too. He even knew how to sell it to her. There were tons of caterers and free cocktail shrimp. He’s sure she would like that.

But there were drawbacks, too, and Chidi had to consider those, too. Maybe he could make a pros and cons list. Or maybe he would use that Magic 8 Ball in the student union to make a decision for him.

“I’ll think about it,” he told Uzo.

“You’re going to stay up all night agonizing about whether to ask her, aren’t you?” Uzo anticipated.

“Yeah, pretty much!”

“I know you too well, buddy,” Uzo laughed.

***

“Eleanor!” Tahani sang outside her door. “I have your face cream!”

“Oh, no,” Eleanor muttered. “Here we go.”

She closed her laptop and ripped down her Stone Cold Steve Austin poster. Eleanor wasn’t sure if Chidi told her about their messages, but wasn’t taking any chances. She scanned her room for any other defining items that might give her away. Luckily, she wasn’t much of a decorator, unlike Becky, who littered her desk with pictures of cats, Spiderman figurines, and frog drawings by her cousin, Jeremy. Yeah, sure, the frog sketches were cute, but the Spiderman figurines? Come on, Becky!

“Hello, Eleanor!” Tahani greeted as Eleanor opened the door, waltzing right into her room without permission.

“Sure, come on in, Tahani. I definitely invited you.” Eleanor grumbled and flopped onto her bed.

“Here’s a bag with some face cream, and some other Korean skincare products I’d thought you might like to try!” Tahani perched herself on the edge of Eleanor’s bed. As she examined the rest of Eleanor’s dorm room, her face scrunched. “Why, this space is awfully… cramped…”

“Because it’s a dorm room,” Eleanor drawled sarcastically. “It’s small? It’s something normal college students usually live in?”

“I mean it’s nothing compared to the spacious single I have in the Scholar’s Club house, and it’s not as quaint as I thought, but I have to admit, it’s quite cute. Aside from the Spiderman figurines on that desk, which are creeping me out…”

“Right? Thank you!” Eleanor threw her hands up in the air emphatically. “I keep telling Becky to turn them to the side so we don’t have to see them!”

“Though I suppose they would creep out the people walking and looking at the dorm windows,” Tahani giggled.

“Haha! You’re right!” Eleanor snickered. “There’s no winning, is there?”

“Not unless you accidentally throw them in the garbage can!” Tahani joked.

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had, babe!” Eleanor rolled over from laughing so hard. Tahani, who was keeling over with her laughter along with her, suddenly stopped, focusing on the left corner of Eleanor’s room.

Eleanor’s eyes widened. Oh no. She had completely forgotten that she left her work backpack on her desk. It was free of badges and patches and tacky Becky-like decorations… besides the small shrimp keychain on the zipper.

Shit.

“Say Eleanor,” Tahani spun back towards Eleanor. “Shrimp doesn’t happen to be your favorite food, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tahani,” Eleanor challenged, shooting Tahani her sharpest eyes. Tahani’s normally light demeanor darkened to match Eleanor’s venomous stare.

“Anyway,” Eleanor swung her legs around her bed and stood up. The faster she could shove Tahani out of the room, the better. “I think it’s time for you to go, Tahani,” She pushed Tahani back towards the door with her feeble muscles. Jeez, she was surprisingly strong. “Buh-bye! See you Monday!”

“Hang on just a second,” Tahani resisted Eleanor’s shove.“You don’t happen to have a poster of Stone Cold Steve Austin, do you?”

“Again,” Eleanor choked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tahani. See you later, okay buh-bye!”

“Oh, really?” Tahani smugly leaned against the doorframe, pointing to the back of the room. “Then why is that Stone Cold Steve Austin poster on the ground?”

Eleanor flicked her eyes back to the back of the room. Her Stone Cold Steve Austin poster was lying face-up. Fuck. She tore the poster down but she forgot to turn it over or hide it under the bed. Damn it, Eleanor!

“Okay, fine, you caught me!” Eleanor caved. She sighed and walked back to her bed. “I’m shrimpfreak1014.”

“Well, since I am very well-connected,” bragged Tahani, shutting the door and joining her on the bed. “I happen to know the identity of the lucky man you’ve been talking with-”

“Please,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “ I know it’s Chidi. I sit behind him in class and he’s not super discrete about messaging on his laptop.”

“Oh,” Tahani shook herself out of her initial shock before agreeing, “That is true. But if you know who he is, and you both are very close, why don’t you tell him who you are?”

Because it’s Chidi, she wanted to say. He’s intelligent and patient and kind and he genuinely cares about people. He cares about me. But I don’t even know if he cares about me me. Eleanor me.

And I couldn’t stand losing him if he didn’t.

“Because I don’t even know if he likes me,” she said instead. She avoided Tahani’s gaze as her eyes welled with tears, tucking the strands of hair behind her ears. God, she probably looked like an idiot, getting all soft talking about how much she liked him. “We always bicker while working on projects, and he always gives me a funny look whenever I say something ignorant, and I just… I don’t want him to change his mind if he knows who I really am…”

“Eleanor,” comforted Tahani, rubbing her back in circles. “I’ve known Chidi for a long time, and he doesn’t dislike anyone. Including you. And also…” Tahani hesitated “You never know how someone will react if you tell them how you feel, so it never hurts to try. Like the time I told Daniel Radcliffe that…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Eleanor cut her off. “I always get it. But…. Thanks, Tahani. I guess. Maybe. I’ll think about it.” She smiled up at her in between sniffles.

“No problem, friend,” Tahani gave her one last pat on the back before heading back to the door, this time, without Eleanor forcing her out. “Well, I better get going. I have to run a bunch of errands for the ball. But Eleanor,” Tahani lingered in the doorway, rocking back and forth on her feet. “If you ever want to get lunch or something…I’d be happy to put something in my calendar.”

“That would be great, Tahani,” accepted Eleanor, grinning. Sure, Tahani was a snob, and she name-dropped too much. She wore heels even though she didn’t need them, and she was too concerned with her popularity…but she also had a good heart. And she was kind of fun to be around. It was only fair that Eleanor gave her a chance.

“But only if we go to get burgers,” she added. “I’m not much of a fancy girl, and you could use some loosening up.”

“Well, I look forward to the grease.” Tahani bobbed her head, then double-checked, “Is grease something to look forward to?”

“You’ll see, babe,” Eleanor winked at her. “You’ll see.”

***

Chidi paced up and down the shiny, hardwood floor of the Scholars Club house kitchen. He had been at it for an hour and a half. Femi already came down to check if he was okay, and he had already scarfed down three bananas from the ornate ceramic fruit bowl Tahani had made for the kitchen. Okay, he was going to go over the possible outcomes one last time, then he was going to decide on what to do…

Hey, bud, his phone vibrated in his hand, disrupting his train of thought. Haven’t heard from you in awhile. Feeling alright?

Chidi trembled as he reread the message. He couldn’t keep up this charade any longer, otherwise he would just end up freezing her out. Yeah, that’s what normally ended up happening with his friends and ex-girlfriends he couldn’t break secrets to, but he didn’t want this to happen with her. He didn’t want to lose her; he wanted this, finally, to be the one that stuck.

You know what? His mind whipped into shape and settled, He was going to do it. If shrimpfreak had taught him anything, it was how to be more decisive. He yearned so badly to meet her, he yearned for nothing else, but he was letting the tossing and turning of his mind prevent him from going for what he desired.

Hey! He texted. Thanks for checking up on me. I was just thinking how to ask you something. So I’m part of the Scholars Club on campus and we’re having a ball on Saturday night. Do you want to go with me? Just as friends, of course. There’ll be free shrimp!

He held his breath while he waited for her response. Nothing.

He removed another banana from the fruit bowl. Maybe the overload of potassium could somehow carry him through the day.

***

It was only in his final class of the day, creating a study guide for philosophy of neuroscience alongside Simone, when he heard back from shrimpfreak1014:

Sorry man, I have work from 9-5 tomorrow and then I have to finish my group project. :(

Oh, Chidi responded, swallowing his disappointment. I understand. Good luck with finals! If you end up having time, feel free to come by.

Yeah, honestly, dude, I’m not really sure if I will. I don’t know if I’m ready to meet yet.

Chidi blinked, pushing down the sickening feeling slithering up his throat.

That’s okay, He reassured, although he was stewing in his own regret. We can just meet when we’re ready. There’s no rush, right?

No response.

Chidi heaved as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“You okay, Chidi?” Simone asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” He somehow managed to lie through his heaving. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

This was why he couldn’t make decisions.

***

On the day of the ball, Chidi rose with dread.

He was surprised he could get up at all- his muscles fatigued from restless turning, his eyes strained from rereading old messages all night. Uzo calmed him down for a little bit in the morning, promising that shrimp freak just needed some time to process the idea of meeting him in person. Chidi told him he was probably right, but still, he checked his phone a couple more times to see if she had messaged back.

The rest of the day kept him distracted enough; he and the rest of the board met in the living room to begin ball preparations: wrapping carnations around the banisters, confirming arrival times of the caterers, transporting surprise gift bags to the gazebo. He felt normal, for the most part- until he overheard Simone and Vicky talking about their dates.

Chidi’s stomach boiled with agony. He didn’t know why he cared so much- he had been fine with not having a date, with not meeting his secret friend in the near future. Now he couldn’t get it out of his head, and he hated himself for it. Why did he have to go and ruin everything?

As the sun lowered over the Scholars Club house hill, the guests rolled into the living room. Chidi feigned a smile as he tore them in half, trying not to let his misery get the best of them. They had planned this ball for months and at least it was going well: the decorations colorful yet classy, the guests adorned in flowing gowns and fitted suits.

After he finished up registration, Chidi floated throughout the house to different groups, greeting them and asking if they were having a good time. It wasn’t a distraction, he tried to convince himself. It was part of his job as a board member. He wasn’t trying to keep his mind off shrimpfreak at all. He wasn’t even thinking about her.

“Chidi!” beckoned Simone from the kitchen.

Chidi let out a sad smile and moved towards Tahani, Uzo, and Simone. As he approached them, Tahani handed him a plate of shrimp. Chidi thanked her gratefully and popped it in his mouth, humming delightfully at its taste.

“Mmmm.” He turned to Tahani. “You did a great job with all of this. The shrimp is so much better than last year, and people seem to be having a great time.”

“It’s much better than the one Kamilah threw two years ago, isn’t it?”

“Oh, much better,” Chidi reassured, and he meant it. Kamilah’s taste was a little too loud and garish for him, but Tahani struck the tasteful balance between sophisticated and fun.

“Be honest,” Uzo slugged an arm around his shoulder. “How are you holding up, man?”

“Could be better,” He shrugged. “But, I’m not doing horrible. I think… I’m going to go outside for a little bit. Get some fresh air.”

“Oh,” Uzo dropped his arm from his shoulders. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m okay.”

“Would you like some more shrimp, Chidi?” Tahani extended out another plate.

“I’m good,” Chidi tried to think of an excuse so he didn’t sound lame “I’ll come back in later… maybe… to get some more.”

Skeptically, Simone crossed her arms. “You’re going to go outside and read until you calm down for a bit, aren’t you?”

“I-I-I-I-I, um-” Chidi stuttered, but their gleeful chortles freed him explanation.

“Go ahead, mate,” Simone shooed him off. “Just come back after the dance ends to clean up. We’re going out to iHop after.”

Chidi confirmed their plans one last time before he left for the gazebo. On the way out, he grabbed his copy of Symposium, the one he had purposely left on the living room table in case he wanted to escape. Deftly, he balanced the book with his plate of shrimp as he pushed open the door. He paused on the steps to appreciate how beautiful the night was, the thickness of the black winter sky, the shimmering stars that lay overhead. The gazebo stood brightly against the dark with its fresh white paint, quickly drawing Chidi in with its solitaire.

Ever since he was a freshman, Chidi sought solace in the gazebo. He frequently snuck away when he needed to be by himself, especially after his grandmother passed away. It boasted a sprawling view of the campus and open panels that breathed in fresh air. Yes, the paint was chipping, and the roof crumbled when it rained, but Chidi loved it nonetheless. Last spring, Tahani held a fundraiser for its restoration, and by fall, it had returned to its former glory. The days of Chidi’s secret, safe place slipped away as he found kids, not even from the Scholar’s Club, using it as a gathering spot to down shots. He was surprised no one was out here right now. He hoped it stayed that way.

Chidi closed his eyes, listening to the plucking of the guitar seep out of the house. He was in his favorite place. The music inside was slowing, the shadows were swaying loosely, and he felt, just for once, that he could handle things.

He opened his book and begin to read.

“Hey nerd,” A brash voice echoed from the doorway mid-paragraph. He snapped his head up to see a familiar frame leaning against the entrance. Wait… was that? No… it couldn’t be…

“Are you reading Plato during the ball?” teased Eleanor. She sauntered over and joined him on the bench.

Chidi opened his mouth to ask her more questions, but instead, he broke into a grin. It was Eleanor. Of course it was Eleanor. No one else was as funny and hard-working and brave as she was. He should have known. He had crushes on both shrimpfreak and Eleanor for the same reasons; how could he not have figured it out before?

“Just needed to get away for a little bit.” He shut back his book and slid it to the side. Eleanor was dressed more casually than normal. Her hair was messy, she sported oversized, food-stained sweats, and still, Chidi couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “Did you kn-”

“Yeah, yeah, I knew,” Eleanor scoffed. “You leave your messages open way too much, Chidi.”

“Right,” Chidi couldn’t help but laugh. She was right. Tahani was always telling him that, too.

Eleanor bit her lip and gave him a shy smile.

He scooted closer to her.

“Um, I created a rough outline of the project!” She cried. She began fiddling with her fingers. “It’s almost done, we just have to add more details in the slides.”

“You worked on the project?” Chidi felt himself warm towards her. He knew how much she hated schoolwork. “Without us there?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor shifted in her seat. “I mean, you and Tahani and Jason are all my friends. I just figured it would make things easier for all of us, since I had the time.”

“That was really nice of you, Eleanor,” His voice fell quietly at the end of his sentence. Eleanor glanced down at her shoes, failing to hide her blush. Chidi wanted to hold her so badly, but he kept talking,

“So, you emancipated from your parents when you were fourteen?”

“Yup. That’s why I work three jobs. I’m surprised you never noticed. I’ve been on shift when you ordered your frozen mochas at the coffeehouse.”

“And you like shrimp?”

“More than I love life itself. And I’m ready to wolf down this unlimited free shrimp! If I’m still allowed to, that is.”

Chidi ducked his head down and chuckled to himself. He couldn’t wait to talk with her the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe you came,” he said happily. “I’m really happy you did.”

“You are?” Eleanor’s eyes shone.

“Of course I am,” He lifted her hand and stroked her palm with his thumb. Eleanor wove her fingers in his and squeezed his hands, leaning her forehead against his.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. He could feel her shaking against him. “I said no because I freaked out, not because I didn’t want to see you.”

“I understand,” Chidi empathized. “I freak out all the time.”

“That couldn’t be more true,” Eleanor agreed endearingly.

They moved in closer to each other.

“Eleanor?” Chidi licked his lips nervously. He didn’t know why he was about to ask what he was about to ask, but he really wanted to. “Can I- can I kiss you?”

Eleanor beamed up at him.

“Go ahead, bud.”

Chidi sprang his lips onto Eleanor’s, moving his mouth passionately against hers. Eleanor drew back at first, startled, but then she sank into the kiss, her mouth curving against Chidi’s in a smile. Chidi removed his hand from hers and wrapped them around her back, sliding one down to her waist and the other up her back. As Eleanor laid her hands on his stomach and let them travel up to his shoulders, Chidi reveled in having her fingers against his chest. This, he realized, thoughts unlocking as they kissed and kissed, is what he always dreamed of. It was always Eleanor he heard when reading her messages. It was always Eleanor he imagined kissing. It was always Eleanor he longed to be near, and now he finally was: her tiny little body pressed against his, her mouth moving with trademark feistiness he admired and loved.

They kissed until their lips grew weary, reluctantly pulling apart as they clung to each other still. Eleanor gazed up at him, her eyes full, and it struck Chidi that he’d never seen her so happy. Guess they both made each other that way.

Chidi kissed her forehead as she snuggled herself his chest. He felt ready to make million decisions right then, with Eleanor in his arms in his favorite place, the brisk air gusting all around them.

“Hey, shrimpfreak.” He bumbled as the music spilled back into the gazebo, “Do you- do you maybe want to dance? Um, with me?”

Eleanor laughed, tugging Chidi up onto his feet.

“Come on, Kantafficado.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Show me how it’s done.”

#tgpsecretsanta #alys07 #cheleanorfic #cheleanor #tgpfic #i hope you like it bbkins!#im sure its littered with errors when I was copying and pasting over whoops!#still hope you like it!#userleila

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sims-psycho · 5 years

Note

Let's see... First half for Billie and second half for Andie (if you want to do all of them 😁💗)

Challenge accepted Chuska, challenge accepted… 😝

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? ~ Probably Tegan2. Are you outgoing or shy? ~ I have moments of both, I’d like to think I’m normally quite outgoing but I tend to be shyer when I’m in a completely unfamiliar place3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? ~ There’s a guy that’s been coming into my work every day, I look forward to our chats4. Are you easy to get along with? ~ I think so, I can be a little bossy, but I’m not a confrontational person5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? ~ I have no idea *laughs*6. What kind of people are you attracted to? ~ Kind people7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? ~ I doubt it, but you never know8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? ~ No one right now9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? ~ Only if it’s with someone I don’t know very well10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? ~ Tegan11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? ~ “I forgot sorry, I’m at the Library now tho” Andie wanted me to make her some hair dye but I forgot, not that interesting 12. What are your 5 favourite songs right now? ~ Death with Dignity by Sufjan Stevens, Lorelai by Fleet Foxes, Mexico by The Staves, The Golden Throne by Temples and The Alter by Wye Oak 13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? ~ Not particularly14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? ~ No, only because I know there are always people behind them15. What good thing happened this summer? ~ I got a new job16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? ~ Definitely not, I don’t miss my college boyfriend17. Do you think there is life on other planets? ~ There has to be, with the vastness of space there must be some sort of life out there18. Do you still talk to your first crush? ~ No *laughs*19. Do you like bubble baths? ~ I LOVE bubble baths20. Do you like your neighbours? ~ I don’t really know them21. What are you bad habits? ~ I have quite bad OCD about certain things, like checking the doors and windows are locked before I leave my apartment, even though it’s on the top floor, no one is going to be scaling the side of the building any time soon *smirks sadly* I’m also terrible for jumping to conclusions and lashing out when I’m upset, but I’m trying to get better at that *smiles*22. Where would you like to travel? ~ Italy has been at the top of my list for a while, and I’ve never been to Korea despite my grandma being from there23. Do you have trust issues? ~ I can be a little guarded, but I wouldn’t say I have trust issues24. Favourite part of your daily routine? ~ When I read in the evening before bed, it’s so peaceful 25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? ~ My lips26. What do you do when you wake up? ~ Get up *giggles*27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? ~ Sometimes I wish it was a little darker because I’m so pale and I always have to wear a thick layer of sunscreen in the summer28. Who are you most comfortable around? ~ Tegan, and my Mum29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? ~ No30. Do you ever want to get married? ~ Eventually, but not anytime soon, you actually have to have a partner for that anyway *laughs*31. Is your hair long enough for a ponytail? ~ No, and it hasn’t been for a while, I like it short *smiles*32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? ~ *laughs and blushes* Hmm, I’m gonna go with Matt Smith and Ryan Gosling 33. Spell your name with your chin. ~ Just because I’m using my chin doesn’t mean I don’t know how to spell my own name *smirks*34. Do you play sports? What sports? ~ I don’t, I used to run for my school when I was 15 but not since then35. Would you rather live without TV or music? ~ Hmm, TV36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? ~ Yes, and I never will37. What do you say during awkward silences? ~ I normally just sigh heavily a lot38. Describe your dream girl/guy? ~ Someone kind, whos’ open to new things39. What are your favourite stores to shop in? ~ Old ones40. What do you want to do after high school? ~ I’m not in high school, and haven’t been for a while *smirks*41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? ~ Yes, people can change42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean? ~ That I’m either thinking deeply or tired43. Do you smile at strangers? ~ If they smile at me, yes44. A trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? ~ That’s a tricky one, I’m gonna have to say bottom of the ocean though45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? ~ My alarm *giggles*46. What are you paranoid about? ~ People going into my room when I’m not there47. Have you ever been high? ~ Yes once, I didn’t like it that much but Kit is trying to get me to try it again so we’ll see how that goes48. Have you ever been drunk? ~ Many times *laughs*49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? ~ I practised some elemental magic without Tegan knowing…50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? ~ Grey, I was at Andie, Kit’s and Kaspers and got cold so put on one of Kaspers, it was huge on me *laughs*51. Ever wished you were someone else? ~ Not anyone in particular, but I used to wish I wasn’t a witch52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? ~ Right now nothing *smiles*53. Favourite makeup brand? ~ Milk Makeup54. Favourite store? ~ There’s a little hippy shop down near the docks called Intrigue that I love55. Favourite blog? ~ I like the Rookie blog56. Favourite colour? ~ Orange57. Favourite food? ~ My Mums Stir Fry58. Last thing you ate? ~ Some toast and jam59. The first thing you ate this morning? …the toast and jam *laughs*60. Ever won a competition? For what? ~ I was part of the relay team when my high school won a regional athletics championship *smirks* other than that no61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? ~ Never62. Been arrested? For what? ~ Nope63. Ever been in love? ~ I don’t think so64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? ~ I’d rather not *smiles awkwardly*65. Are you hungry right now? ~ Nah, I just had my toast and jam *laughs*66. Do you like your Tumblr friends more than your real friends? ~ N/A67. Facebook or Twitter? ~ I don’t have either, been thinking about making a twitter recently though68. Twitter or Tumblr? ~ Tumblr!69. Are you watching tv right now? ~ I’m in the middle of a Bates Motel episode as we speak70. Names of your best friends? ~ Tegan, Andie and Kasper….and Kit if I have to *smirks*71. Craving something? What? ~ I could go for a banana milkshake right now…72. What colour are your towels? ~ Light blue72. How many pillows do you sleep with? ~ 4, I’m a pillow addict *giggles*73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? ~ My little rabbit, Hopper 74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? ~ Only a few, and only Hopper is in Anne Arbor with me, the others are at my parent’s house75. Favourite animal? ~ I love cats and rabbits *smiles*

76. What colour is your underwear? ~ Oo, getting straight to it are we *winks and giggles* they’re black and lacey, love77. Chocolate or Vanilla? ~ Both!78. Favourite ice cream flavour? ~ Cookie dough, I could eat it all day every day *drools*79. What colour shirt are you wearing? ~ Bright yellow, like my personality *laughs*80. What colour pants? ~ Pants? Ohhhhh, you mean trousers, well, skirt I guess cuz that’s what I’m wearing *laughs* It’s black denim81. Favourite tv show? ~ I like that 70′s show *smiles*82. Favourite movie? ~ Scott Pilgrim Vs The World is AMAZING *grins*83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? ~ Haven’t seen either84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? ~ 21 Jump Street!85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? ~ I HAVEN’T SEEN MEAN GIRLS!86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? ~ I like the starfish, and dory, and the lil baby octopus *smiles*87. The first person you talked to today? ~ Kit I think88. Last person you talked to today? ~ Some random drunk girl in the park *giggles* I was drunk too so it wasn’t that weird89. Name a person you hate? ~ Hmmm, I can’t remember *smirks*90. Name a person you love? ~ There’s SO many people! I love Erik and Maya and Tegan and Alex and Tortilla and Billie and Kasper and Kit! *grins*91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? ~ I don’t think so, have you got any suggestions?92. In a fight with someone? ~ Not right now93. How many sweatpants do you have? ~ Like, 2 *smirks* 94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? ~ Definitely more than 2 *laughs* more like 20 tbh95. Last movie you watched? ~ I watched some space one with Kasper and Kit, I think it was called Intergalactic or…Interstellar! That was it, Interstellar *giggles*96. Favourite actress? ~ Cate Blanchett!97. Favourite actor? ~ I just answered this, didn’t it..?98. Do you tan a lot? ~ Not in a shop or anything, I’m outside a lot so I’m naturally tanned99. Have any pets? ~ I have Kit, does he count? *laughs*100. How are you feeling? ~ Pretty good 101. Do you type fast? ~ I talk fast102. Do you regret anything from your past? …103. Can you spell well? Yeah, I’m alright, all these computers and shit don’t really help tho104. Do you miss anyone from your past? ~ A couple people from back home, but Maya says I can go and visit them whenever I like *smiles*105. Ever been to a bonfire party? ~ Yeah! They’re the best! *grins*106. Ever broken someone’s heart? ~ I’m not sure 107. Have you ever been on a horse? ~ Yeah! I used to ride along the beach back in Straya all the time *smiles*108. What should you be doing? ~ Right now nothing, it’s great *laughs*109. Is something irritating you right now? ~ I’m laying on my rug and it’s a bit itchy if that’s what you mean110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? ~ Oh yes!111. Do you have trust issues? ~ No, I can just make people forget the things I don’t want them to know112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? ~ Tegan I think113. What was your childhood nickname? ~ Little fish, Kit still calls me it sometimes114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? ~ I’ve been aaaaallllll over the world *grins*115. Do you play the Wii? ~ No?116. Are you listening to music right now? ~ Yeah. I’m listening to Paramore! 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? ~ Yup!118. Do you like Chinese food? ~ Yup yup! *laughs*119. Favourite book? ~ I like Milk and Honey, it’s pretty *smiles*120. Are you afraid of the dark? ~ I’m not afraid of anything121. Are you mean? ~ Kinda sometimes, but not too nice people122. Is cheating ever okay? ~ Hmm, I guess if you’re not happy and being treated badly then yeah123. Can you keep white shoes clean? ~ Nope nope nope *laughs*124. Do you believe in love at first sight? ~ Nah, lust at first sight tho…*smirks*125. Do you believe in true love? ~ Like from fairy tales and shit? I guess126. Are you currently bored? ~ A little bit, but \i normally a, so don’t take it personally *giggles*127. What makes you happy? ~ Quite a few things, Being at the beach, hanging out with my friends, and ripping the throats out of people who are bad *smiles sweetly*128. Would you change your name? ~ Nah, I like my name!129. What your zodiac sign? ~ Leo130. Do you like subway? ~ I guess, I don’t have it a lot131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? ~ *laughs* I dunno, laugh a lot *laughs*132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? ~ Kasper133. Favourite lyrics right now? ~ “You’d really like it in the limelight, You’d sympathize with all the bad guys, I’m still a victim in my own right, But I’m the villain in my own eyes”134. Can you count to one million? ~ Duh, I’m not stupid 135. Dumbest lie you ever told? ~ Oh god, I’ve told so many I can’t remember *laughs*136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? ~ Closed, what kind of psycho sleeps with their door open?137. How tall are you? ~ 5′7 *smiles*138. Curly or Straight hair? ~ somewhere in-between 139. Brunette or Blonde? ~ Well my hair is like a light brown, it goes kind of blonde in the summer140. Summer or Winter? ~ Summer! *grins*141. Night or Day? ~ That’s tricky, but probably day, I do most of my work at night142. Favourite month? ~ June! It’s my birthday month! *giggles*143. Are you a vegetarian? ~ Far from it *laughs*144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? ~ Milk, mmm *drools*145. Tea or Coffee? ~ Coffee!146. Was today a good day? ~ Yeah! *smiles*147. Mars or Snickers? ~ Mars all the way!148. What’s your favourite quote? ~ ”do not bother holding on to that thing that does not want you” - Rupi Kaur149. Do you believe in ghosts? ~ No doubt, I’ve met some, they’re not as scary as humans make them out to be, so misunderstood 150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? ~ “no”

#billie #andie #oc's #character development #this took me so long omg #but i loved every second of it #they're so different i love it

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thefreckledone · 6 years

Text

Satori (Between the Lines) - Part 1

Sakura’s hand fidgets around Ino’s as she stares up at the surprisingly nondescript building. It is a bit shabby, certainly not befitting the reputation spoken of among civilians in hushed tones.

Konohagakure Intelligence Division.

Sakura swallows and clutches tighter to Ino, willing herself to walk through the door. Why, oh why, does she have to be here?

“Relax, Sakura-chan!” Ino says, watching Sakura with those guileless, confident blue eyes. When she looks at Sakura that way, she feels like she can do anything. “You’ll be working with my dad most of the day and everything he does is boring!”

Sakura thinks back to whispers snatched among parents on the playgrounds and in the civilian markets, away from shinobi. It is surprisingly simple for a child enrolled in the Academy to eavesdrop on such adult conversations. In the moment, Sakura felt giddy, really feeling like a true ninja as she gathers information to share with Ino. Now, remembering the tawdry tales of severed limbs and hypnosis, Sakura regrets her eagerness.

She never expected to be assigned a field experience assignment with Konohagakure Intelligence Division.

“Sakura,” Ino says, taking in her stiffness and pallor. “Seriously, tou-chan has already promised me that he’ll keep an eye on you. You’ll just be sorting paperwork. You won’t be anywhere near the actual action.”

“Promise?” Sakura asks.

“Promise,” Ino replies, tucking Sakura’s hand into the crook of her arm and dragging her forward. “C’mon. I have to head over to my assignment too. Genma-senpai is surprisingly a stickler about punctuality. I don’t want him tattling to Mizuki-sensei!”

Somehow, Sakura’s feet begin to move and they pass through the heavy doors into the building. There is an artificial cheer about the place, an austere colorfulness perhaps sharpened by the lack of natural light. There are no windows, though Sakura didn’t really expect there to be any. The halls are silent even as they pass by people. Most wear masks and walk with a lethal grace. Some wear leather aprons and gloves. These Sakura turns her gaze away from. It is strange to see Anbu walking around beneath the florescent lights, as they so often work in shadows. Sakura and Ino head up a few flights of stairs, making their way into an open office space.

“Tou-chan!” Ino exclaims, releasing Sakura and bounding toward her father. They embrace, Inoichi chuckling as he ruffles his daughter’s hair. “I brought Sakura!”

“Hello, Sakura-kun,” Inoichi greets, reclaiming his seat and smiling at her kindly. Sakura has always liked Ino’s father, the laugh lines in his face making him kind. “I’m glad you were able to make it. Ino, I’ll see you at dinner. You should hurry along to your post.”

With one last squeeze of encouragement, Ino is gone and Sakura is left feeling bereft.

“Come with me,” Inoichi says, leading Sakura across the hall. They enter into a small, cramped room, furnished with a chair, desk, and stacks upon stacks of documents. They’re nearly swimming in papers. “Take a seat,” Inoichi says, taking pity on the girl. He sees the way she folded in on herself the moment Ino left her side. He waits for her to take a seat in the sole chair in the room before he pushes a large stack of documents her way. “While you are here, Sakura-kun, you will be sorting the missives that come in from our informants.” He points to the top left corner of one of the documents. “Feel along the edges there.”

Sakura does so. “There’s...raised dots?”

Inoichi nods. “Yes, that let’s us know which department the document goes to. Can you tell me the pattern on that one?”

Sakura concentrates, running the pad of her finger across the paper. “There’s a vertical line of three dots, followed by two single dots.”

“Well done, Sakura-kun!” Inoichi praises, taking the file and discreetly double-checking it as he places it into one of the boxes. “That is the signature for the quartermaster.” He passes her a scroll. “This displays all of the codes as well as the departments each code is meant for. You will be sorting these during your time here. With the preparations for the chunin exams, we’ve become a bit backlogged. Take your time; there’s no need to rush.”

Sakura looks over at the large pile of documents, finding them quite daunting despite Inoichi’s encouragement. She picks up the next one, blinking as she realizes that she cannot read any of the text. The symbols are neither hiragana or katakana. They don’t even seem to be kanji.

It’s strange, especially as Sakura prides herself on being an excellent reader. Her bedroom stacked full of books and worn library card are testament to her love of reading. She’s one of the very few people in her class who can even read kanji.

“Yamanaka-san,” Sakura begins, voice barely above a whisper. Inoichi turns his attention her way regardless. “What are these?”

“Ah,” Inoichi says. “All of these documents are written in code to keep prying eyes from reading their contents.” Sakura flushes guiltily. “You do not need to concern yourself with that, just make sure they are sorted into the right piles and someone else will decipher the codes.”

Sakura nods meekly and takes a seat, running her fingertips along the next document. Two horizontal dots followed by a cluster of four all bunched together. She checks the scroll he gave her. “This is for the Council of Elders. Where do I need to place it?”

“Council of Elders: Shimura, Utatane, Mitokado,” Inoichi replies almost to himself, stepping away from her and rummaging around for a series of small boxes stacked upon each other. He comes back, placing down the boxes with a smile to Sakura. “This here is where you’ll place the documents once they are sorted.”

Sakura looks at the boxes, taking in the names that go alongside each of the individual boxes. She slips the document for the Council into their respective box.

Inoichi looks her over, making sure she’s settled. Sakura looks small, swallowed by the large chair and the disorganized pile of documents around her. Still, she seems comfortable enough, already running her fingers over the next document. “I have to get back to my duties,” he says, waiting until she looks up at him. “I’ll be right across the hall if you need anything.”

Sakura nods, watching as Inoichi leaves the room. Then she turns back to the documents at hand, a determined smile set upon her face.

It is time to get started.

“How’s your assignment going?” Sakura asks, passing Ino a bento box.

Ino sighs, showcasing stained fingers. “I think my hands are going numb from all of the polishing and sharpening I’ve been doing. Genma-senpai is a perfectionist, but now I know the right balance to both short and long form kunai and shuriken.” She changes the position on her chopsticks, holding them like a weapon. “I can throw a kunai perfectly now.”

“That’s great,” Sakura replies, as she finishes a bite of sticky rice. “Could you show me later?”

“Of course,” Ino says. “Tou-chan says you’ve been doing a good job with the Intelligence Division.”

It’s a leading statement, one that makes Sakura light up. “It was scary at first, but the people there are really nice.” She pauses, nose wrinkling. “There’s one lady, Anko-san, she’s kind of scary, but she’s also funny and secretly nice. I think she’s the one who leaves me umeboshi sometimes.”

“And how’s the work itself? Tou-chan said that you sort documents. It sounds kind of boring,” Ino says.

“No, not at all!” Sakura replies, emphatically. “All of the documents are written in code. All sorts of different codes. Remember when Mizuki-sensei covered cryptography?”

“My ears are burning!” a voice sings out behind them.

Both girls jump, turning to look at Mizuki who is crouched behind them, giving them a quizzical smile.

They are seated out on a grassy hill on the Academy property, where many students hang out between and after classes. It’s one of Sakura’s favorite places in Konoha, allowing her to look out over the downtown merchant section of the civilian sector. It’s comforting, as the Haruno clan has a shop among the section, run by her aunt and uncle. When her parents are out of town, being able to see the Haruno shop is soothing.

“Hi Mizuki-sensei,” Ino greets. “We’re just talking about our field experience assignments.”

“You’re working with Shiranui-san in the armory, aren’t you Ino?” Mizuki says, stroking his chin. “Sakura, you’re in the Intelligence Division with Yamanaka-san?” Both of them nod. “Cryptography, huh? You cracked any codes, Sakura?” His smile is kind and teasing.

Sakura bites her lip. “Not really,” she says. “I can tell which codes are the same and even the patterns, but not really any of the words.” That isn’t quite right. She has managed to decipher certain small words and even repeated code names but she has yet to figure out the contents of any of them.

“Well, if you want to get better at cryptography, there’s some books I can suggest for you,” Mizuki says. He has a soft spot for Sakura, the quiet, intelligent first-generation student studying to be a shinobi. There’s a common ground between them; she’s a younger reflection of who he once was, before all the destruction and pain.

“That would be great!” Sakura exclaims, grinning up at him.

“Just make sure to share any secrets you learn with me,” he says, winking.

She is almost vibrating wiggling with excitement and anticipation as they head back to class after Mizuki promises to compile a list.

It is time to get to work.

Sakura frowns down at the document before surreptitiously glancing up and around. No one is in the room with her, however, Sakura cannot help feeling a guilty squeeze as she scribbles something on her sheet of paper. She’s cycling through substitution ciphers, seeing if any stick.

The rest of her sheet is filled with blotted out letters, crossed out nonsense words that she attempted a variation on the same substitution cipher on. Cipher cracking, at least the process of learning it, is slow going.

This is a document for the Council of Civilians; Sakura assumes that it has the least amount of security when compared to the documents for the Hokage or clan heads.

There is a slight murmur and Sakura pauses, fighting to keep her expression neutral as a pair of conversing adults, both wearing gloves and aprons covered in a dark, viscous liquid, pass by. Once she is certain they are gone, Sakura returns to her paper.

Sakura’s guilt is assuaged slightly by the knowledge that deceit and deception are the bread and butter of shinobi. While many in Konoha are trained for full-frontal assault, the class of shinobi is dedicated to stealth and espionage. Konoha is still in the mindset of gearing students up to be soldiers, not shinobi.

Sakura does not want to have a career as cannon fodder.

So really, Sakura thinks to herself, this is just applied practice of the skills that will be vital to her one day. In fact, they may just be vital now.

Sakura’s victorious smile is so wide that it hurts her cheeks. This is the first time she has decrypted a full word.

At least, she believes it to be the intended word.

The encryption leaves no spaces between any of the letters so she’ll have to continue the process to see if the rest of the message aside from “Report,” makes sense.

Still, it is rewarding to see some progress.

With determination fueling her, Sakura sets to her task once more with fervor, silent room filling with the sound of her pen scratching away.

Sakura inhales deeply, settling further into her seat as she takes in the scents of old paper and warmth and coziness. The library is a second home to her, more so when her parents are out of town as they are right now. She rubs her fingers along the parchment within the book, enjoying the coarse texture of the heavy paper.

There are only a few people in the library at midmorning like this and Sakura likes the quiet. A couple of civilians and a chunin guard who is on break are the only other occupants of the library.

Sakura bends her head back over her book, picking up where she left off on scytales and their function within cryptography. Apparently, scytales fell out of fashion in Konoha during its early days, when the First Hokage ruled, but they are still popular in Iwa and Suna. She wonders if there are any scytales in the Intelligence Division’s storage or if she herself could create one. She wants to try it out with Ino.

The slight rustling of clothing draws Sakura out of her reading. She looks up, blinking as a boy takes the seat across from her. The boy is tall and lithe, wearing a partial mask that obscures his eyes and ears but leaves his nose and mouth clear. Between his dark hair neatly combed hair and mask, Sakura guesses that he’s an Aburame. She’s never seen him before, even though he’s certainly of age to attend the Academy, as all good clan children do.

“Hello,” Sakura greets warily, shifting her book closer to her chest. “I’m Sakura.”

He cocks his head to his side, assessing her. She can feel the weight of his gaze and she flushes. “I know,” he replies.

“You do?” Sakura asks with a frown. “How?”

“You come to the library quite often. Every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday at the very least, if not more often. I am at the library everyday; it was not difficult to observe the most frequent purveyors of the library, including yourself. I overheard the librarian say your name,” he says, a slight smile on his face as he gives the explanation. He doesn’t seem or sound smug, though Sakura cannot be sure.

“Alright,” Sakura says, bringing the book even closer to her chest. She isn’t sure how she feels about this, this invasion of her sanctuary. She hasn’t noticed the boy’s attention over the past months, but now, sitting in front of him, he doesn’t seem to have ill intentions. “Obviously, I have not been nearly as observant. What is your name?”

His smile widens. “What do you believe it to be?”

Sakura straightens up, putting the book down on the table as she chooses to engage in his offered game. It is her turn to look him over. “I know that you are of the Aburame clan,” she says, concentrating on him. As she pays him closer attention, Sakura hears the slightest buzzing noise emanating from beneath his skin. Her mouth pulls down into a thoughtful frown. Shino is already a host as well, but she has never heard him buzz like that. Perhaps this boy’s control is lacking?

“You don’t attend the Academy, even though you’re older than me. Did your parents choose not to enroll you? No, you are from one of the founding clans; all children are enrolled unless they are found to be lacking or dangerous to other students.” She hears the buzzing increase ever so slightly in pitch as a frown tugs away the boy’s smile. Got him. “You struggle to control your bugs, which is why you are not enrolled in the Academy.”

Sakura looks at the boy and, for a moment, she fears she’s overstepped. Then his scowl clears away and he begins to clap. “Bravo,” he says. “You may not yet be self-aware, but you do possess skills in observation. In time, you will hone your self- and situational awareness or you won’t make it far in this career. But still, you haven’t answered my question. What is my name?”

“The only Aburame that I have met is Shino,” Sakura says, pausing at the boy’s nearly imperceptible flinch. “Shibi-sama is the clan head,” she continues, again catching the way he flinches.

Whoever he is, he is much more closely related to the clan head than she thought. Sakura stops for a moment, closing her eyes as she pictures the genograms that they made in class a year ago. Sakura enjoyed making hers at the time, but the main interest in the class was clan children comparing genograms to each other, side by side. It was a competition of sorts for them, a measurement of how successful their clan was.

As such, Sakura made special note at the time of the genograms of the four noble clans of Konoha, Choji’s, Ino’s, Hinata’s, and Shino’s, as well as Sasuke’s genogram since the Uchiha ran the Konoha Military Police Force.

There is only one person this boy can be.

“You are Aburame Torune,” Sakura says, opening her eyes once more. “Shibi-sama has adopted you, right? Shino is your cousin and now adopted brother.”

He nods, a bright smile gracing his features. Her victory feels like a triumph for him. “Well done.”

“So why approach me now?” Sakura asks, looking at him with new eyes. Aburame Torune, the adopted son of the clan head. “You’ve been watching me for weeks, months even. What changed?”

He turns his gaze downward, embarrassed. “I just thought it was time to introduce myself.” His eyes light on her stack of books. “How is your study of codes going?”

“Well,” Sakura says, looking down over her selection of titles. Most are Mizuki’s recommendations, but some she has gathered based on citations within other cryptography books. Sakura has made a fine dent in the library’s collection and she believes she can finish them all within the next month. “I’ve learned transposition and substitution ciphers well; at this point, I can usually recognize them on sight.” She gestures down to her current book, on the history of subterfuge. “Now I’m getting some historical examples of steganography.”

Torune nods, though he doesn’t really seem to understand. Sakura doesn’t mind. In fact, she bites her lip, warring with herself for a moment.

“Would you like to go stick hunting with me?”

“Stick hunting?” he repeats, obviously lost. “Why sticks?”

“We need them to create scytales,” Sakura says, nodding decisively. She stands, packing away her things. “We’ll need to find three sticks of equal thickness. One for Ino. One for me. One for you.”

Torune’s responding grin is a breathtaking thing as his buzzing picks up in frequency. There’s something soothing, almost melodic about the hum. “Lead the way.”

The two children head for the door eagerly, leaving behind a neat towering pile of books.

Sakura keeps her concentration on the documents before her, ignoring the uproar outside the door. She is well-used to how loud Anko and her associates can be at this point and she barely flinches when they get started.

That is, until a large man barges into the room.

“Where is it?” he roars.

Sakura’s hand immediately goes to the kunai strapped at her calf, pausing as Inoichi charges in after the man. She keeps her grip on the kunai, watching, assessing as Torune often reminds her to do.

Ibiki stops, blinking at her. “Who are you?”

“Ibiki, I need you to calm down. This is Haruno Sakura, she’s the Academy student assigned to Konoha’s Intelligence Division for her field assignment,” Inoichi says, getting between Ibiki and Sakura, hands up in a placating gesture.

“I don’t have time to be calm,” Ibiki says, voice slightly lowered from the bellow it was but moments ago. He is huge and hulking, making the small room feel even smaller. He wears a thick black leather trench coat, one that is similar enough to the leather aprons worn by other Torture and Interrogation Force operatives: his job is obviously related to wetwork. The only aspects of him exposed, his face and hands, are heavily scarred. “I need a document right now!”

They both round on Sakura, looking at the stacks and stacks of unsorted documents.

“Which document do you need, Ibiki?” Inoichi asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I need Fox’s report on his infiltration of Kirigakure’s hunter-nin,” Ibiki says, cold gaze on Sakura. Sakura realizes with a start that the shininess of his leather coat is fresh blood. She turns her gaze down to the remaining documents, searching. “The report is for the Council of Elders.”

Inoichi glances at the boxes, sighing. “These things take time; everything is in code. Sakura-kun hasn’t sorted those—”

“Here!” Sakura calls, interrupting Inoichi in her excitement. She’ll be mortified later, when she’s out of the moment and aware of the possible ramifications of interrupting a clan head. She picks up the scroll, proffering it to Ibiki. “This is the document you need.”

Sakura’s smile fades at the stunned silence that greets her. Ibiki snatches the document from her, running his finger along the border to make sure it is addressed correctly. He squints at the document, frown making his scarring even more severe.

“I’m no code breaker, but I do recognize Fox’s unique handle here,” he tells Inoichi. He raises his eyes, locking onto Sakura. She swallows, tempted to duck her head and hide away. She resists, however, and stays steady. “How did you figure it out so quickly?”

“I’ve…” Sakura squeaks. She stops, clearing her throat. “I’ve been studying ciphers in my free time.”

“Since you started here.”

It isn’t a question, but Sakura nods anyway. “I wanted to do a better and more efficient job here.”

“That’s why Ino has a scytale!” Inoichi exclaims.

“I made one for her,” Sakura says softly. “We write messages to each other.”

Ibiki moves suddenly, striding forward and slamming his hands down on the table before Sakura. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from jumping. His face is impassive and Sakura bites down on her cheek until it bleeds.

Then, he grins, the pull warping his scars into an expression even more terrifying than his scowl. It looks uncomfortable on his face, as if the muscles are unused to it. Sakura gets the sad feeling that he doesn’t smile too much.

Inoichi makes a noise, as if he wants to interfere.

“There’s someone I want you to meet, girl,” Ibiki says, amusement thick in his voice.

Sakura, reading the apparent mischievousness in his face, gulps.

#my fic #satori (between the lines)#sakura haruno #torune aburame #sakura & torune #sakura & ino #ibiki morino

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winterune · 6 years

Text

A Persona 5 Fanfiction - Something Perfectly Normal

Word count: 3838

Summary: The second week of Ren’s transfer, the second Sunday. It’s his birthday and he doesn’t know what he should do.

A/N: a self-indulgent fic I write for my birthday. So, this is a present from me to me, featuring Ren^^ (since Ren doesn’t have an official birthday). Set right after Ren transferred to Shujin Academy, so he’s still adapting to his new environment. It also contains some allusions to another p5 fic I’m currently writing about Ren’s past (the mentions of his mother and foster parents), and it’s my headcanon of who Ren is (helps me in writing his character too). I don’t delve too deep about them here though.

The hum of the television filled the background. Another recap news of the recent psychological breakdowns. Ren was sitting on the counter with the usual serving of curry Sojiro gave him every morning.

“Do you have plans for today?” the middle-aged man asked from behind the counter.

The same question he posed last Sunday. Ren wasn’t sure if he meant well or he just wanted him away from café every day he had off. But his reluctant guardian hadn’t once looked at him, and he had his back to him. Indifferent. As long as Ren didn’t create any trouble, Sojiro didn’t care less what he did.

Ren shrugged. “I’ll go somewhere,” he said quietly.

Sojiro gave a noncommittal grunt.

Ren brought another spoonful of his curry into his mouth. It melted immediately and it was a struggle not to finish everything so quickly. Despite his attitude toward him, Sojiro’s really was the best curry Ren ever ate. Not to mention the coffees he brewed.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sojiro seemed to notice Ren’s reaction to his breakfast. His lips stretched into a small smile though he didn’t comment on it.

On the floor to the side, Morgana was eating his own breakfast from a bowl Ren had bought at a nearby pet store. Filled with more of Sojiro’s cooking, of course. The cat had also preferred it to the cat food Ren had bought.

“You know…” Morgana said between mouthfuls. “I can never…get tired of this.”

Ren grinned. “Don’t talk while you’re eating, Morgana,” he said.

“Yeah…”

Sojiro chuckled. “Seems like he loves it.”

Ren’s grin faded. “He does.”

Sojiro glanced at him. “Make sure you bring him with you when you go out.”

“I will.” Ren finished his food and drink. “Thanks for the food.”

***

“Where are you going?” Morgana asked from inside Ren’s bag as they headed outside. The café had just opened but it was still too early for anything else to be open—except for the local stores.

“Somewhere,” Ren mused.

“Aren’t we going to head to the Palace today?” Morgana asked again.

“Not today.”

Morgana was silent for a moment, before asking again, “Then, what are you going to do today?” just as Ren stopped before the stairs up to a batting cage in the neighborhood. Morgana popped his head from Ren’s bag and peaked his head over his shoulder. “A batting cage,” he read the sign. “You’re going to a batting cage?”

Ren shrugged. “No harm in it.” He walked up the stairs, only to find the door to the batting cage closed.

“It’s closed,” Morgana commented.

I can see that, Ren thought to himself. There was a sign posted on the door. “Opens at noon,” he read.

Ren didn’t move. To be honest, he didn’t have anything in mind—where to go, what to do. The Palace? They hadn’t prepared enough. Maybe he should just spend the day preparing for their infiltration.

“So, what are you going to do?” Morgana asked again.

Ren glanced at the cat staring at him from behind his shoulder. “Do you have fun riding in my bag?”

“Wha—”

Ren smirked.

And maybe because Morgana wasn’t exactly a cat, but Ren could see the slight stretch of his mouth to a reluctant smirk as he huffed. “Well, I’m going wherever you go,” he said and went back inside the bag.

“You’re heavy, Morgana,” Ren commented again.

“Shut up!”

***

His phone vibrated as Ren waited at the station for a train to Shibuya. It was Ryuji, asking when they were going to go to the Palace. Why was everyone asking him that?! Ren replied it wouldn’t be today.

“I’ll be hanging out in Shibuya if you changed your mind,” Ryuji replied Ren’s text.

Well, good thing Ren was going to Shibuya too. Maybe he’d see Ryuji for a while.

It didn’t take long to reach Shibuya and even in the morning, these parts were already so crowded. It had been two weeks since he moved here and he hadn’t had the chance to explore much of the city. With everything that went on at school, Kamoshida, and the discovery of the Metaverse, not to mention how everyone kept bugging him when to go, when to go, when to go every single time they saw him… Maybe he should take the time to explore today.

The stairs from the subway led to an underground station and somewhere in it, Ren saw a crowded drink stand. He had noticed the drink stand a couple times but it was never as crowded as it was today. As he approached it, he saw how the people behind the counter looked so busy and the queue was so long. A sign read “Sunday Special Drink”—and it was expensive. Not worth it.

Ren spent most of the day wandering aimlessly, Morgana sometimes giving unnecessary comments on whatever caught Ren’s interest. Unnecessary, but still a welcome nonetheless. It made him feel less lonely. He hadn’t felt this lonely in years. On this particular day. Maybe he should just buy something and be done with it. He could spend the rest of the day in his room. Sojiro wouldn’t mind that, right?

He did just that and went inside the first store he saw in the underground mall. A music store. Racks of CDs lined the wall. The store clerk greeted him as the door slid open for him. There were only a few customers beside him inside. He took a look around, but didn’t find anything that interested him.

“Do you have somewhere you want to go, Morgana?” Ren asked as he exited the store.

“Hmm… nothing in particular,” Morgana replied. “Though I wouldn’t mind going to Mementos.” Even from behind his shoulder, Ren could feel Morgana narrowing his eyes at him. “You promised you’d help me recover my memories.”

Ren sighed. “I promise, but not today, okay?”

“Hmph, yes well, it’s still a while before your expulsion. There’s no harm in taking a break once in a while.”

Ren nodded. “It doesn’t do well to rush things.”

Still, that didn’t answer his initial question. Where should they go? Ren wandered around the mall for a while, checking every store. Everything was so expensive. He had noted a store that sold things that might be helpful for their Palace infiltration. But he didn’t have that much money. Maybe he should look for a job? There was some part-time job adds outside if he wasn’t mistaken.

He was just finished looking around a flower shop when he spotted a familiar face walking down one of the corridors. Ann… in casual clothes. At the same moment, Ann noticed him there and her face broke into a grin.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, right hand reaching high in a wave.

Ren smiled and wove back.

Morgana, hearing Ann’s voice, immediately popped his head from the bag and climbed onto Ren’s shoulder. “Lady Ann!” to which Ren cringed slightly but couldn’t help the grin on his face every time he saw Morgana reacted to Ann.

“Hi, Morgana,” Ann returned his greeting with a bright smile, then shifted her gaze back to Ren. “What are you doing here, Ren?”

Ren shrugged. “Just walking around.”

“This guy can’t make up his mind where to go,” Morgana added.

“Oh! You haven’t had the time to explore, have you?” Ann asked. “Want me to take you around?”

“Where do you have in mind?”

“Umm… well…” Ann thought for a moment. “There’s a sweet shop, and a diner in Central Street… a buffet that’s rumored to be super good but super expensive, so that’s out of the question. Oh! They sell the best crepes just outside the diner! It’s really good. You have to try some!”

Ren chuckled. “Everything you’ve listed are all food.”

“Sweets, mind you,” Ann corrected. “And deserts.”

“Aren’t they the same?” Ren laughed.

“I’m interested in those crepes,” Morgana said. “What are they?”

“Oh, they’re—”

“You just ate, Morgana,” Ren said. “You’ll get fat if you eat too much.”

“Say what?!”

Ren laughed again. Really, it’s so easy to forget everything and enjoy himself when he was with his friends. “Do you know some place where you can just stroll around?”

“Hmm… there’s this park that I like to go to,” Ann began. “But it’s a ways away. Not anywhere near Shibuya. You need to take the train there.”

“Oh…” Ren thought for a moment. A park sounded good. “What’s this park called.”

“Inokashira. Want me to go there with you?”

Going there with Ann… if anyone saw them together, no doubt more rumors would spread. Half of him thought adding more false rumor to the already existent false rumor wouldn’t change his situation. But another half of him just wanted all this crap to die down soon and for people to leave him alone.

“I’ll pass. Maybe I’ll look around Central Street.”

Ann nodded, but she looked unconvinced. “Well, I’ll be here if you need anything. Just text me.”

Ren nodded. He waved her goodbye.

“You okay, Ren?”

Her question caught him off guard. Did his face betray his emotions? Or was Ann that observant?

Ren put on his usual smile. “I’m fine.”

***

Central Street was as packed as ever. Ren monitored his way through the sea of people and found himself in front of a bookstore. Just the thing he was looking for.

“Don’t you still have that book you borrowed from the library?” Morgana asked.

“I’m just going to browse,” Ren said before he entered the store.

That was indeed his initial intention. But being in the bookstore itself was another thing all together and in no time, he already had several books he wanted to buy in his hand.

“Aren’t those too many?” Morgana asked.

Three books. Not really. But maybe Morgana was right. He didn’t have that much allowance to begin with. It was easy to lose himself when he’s shopping for books.

“Why don’t you choose this for the moment?” Morgana asked, nodding at the cheapest one. It was thin—probably not even two-hundred pages. He’d finish it in a day.

“Nah, I’ll choose this one,” Ren said, going with a book about a dog. He didn’t really know what present to give himself. This should do.

***

“Oh! An arcade!”

Ren eyed the building, then eyed Morgana. “You can’t even play it.”

“Shut up, Ren!” Morgana snapped, but his eyes glowed again as he looked at the building in red. “Let’s go inside.” His eyes were practically bulging out.

Ren sighed and did as he was told.

Well, Ren had never played in an arcade before either. Never wanted to. Never had the time to. Never had a friend who asked him to. He never went inside one—had only just looked at it from outside. And… inside was exactly as how he imagined it to be. Aisles of game machines, children and teens of all ages—even adults—were using every single one, loud.

He didn’t like the place. Morgana didn’t seem to.

“Let’s go,” Ren said. And Morgana nodded his assent.

And just as they turned around to leave, they spot a slouched figure leaning against the vending machine. Purple jacket, blonde-dyed hair.

“Ryuji?”

Ryuji looked up at Ren’s voice. His eyes grew wide.

“What are you doing here?”

Ren approached his friend as he shrugged. “Just walking around.”

“He’s been walking around since morning,” Morgana popped up from the bag.

Ryuji jumped in surprise. “Dude! You’re still carrying the cat in your bag?!”

“Mor-ga-na!” Morgana emphasized each syllable of his name. “I’m not a cat! How many times do I have to tell you until you understand, blondie?”

“What was that?!”

“Can you two please quiet down?” Ren hissed. “Look!”

There was a sign on the wall that clearly said no pets allowed. Both boys looked at Morgana simultaneously. Despite what the cat said, it was still a cat, and it was meowing quite loud. So Ren decided to pull out before anyone could catch them and Ryuji followed suit.

“You shouldn’t have yelled so loud, Morgana!” Ryuji complained.

“What? Who was picking a fight in the first place?!”

“Gaahh!! Now they’re going to keep an eye on me for sure!”

“You weren’t even playing anything in there!”

“What were you doing there?” Ren asked.

Ren noticed Ryuji’s slight stiffening of his body. “Nothing.” His voice was unusually quiet.

Morgana poked his head over Ren’s shoulder again. “Let me guess!”—and he was grinning from ear to ear in a way a cat would grin—“You were bored so you just decided to go someplace in random.”

“Hey! I wasn’t—” Ryuji shouted, to which Ren immediately shushed. “—bored…”

His voice trailed off and Ren could detect the desperate attempt to hide his embarrassment. He couldn’t help the slight laugh that escaped his lips.

“Oh, come on! Not you too!”

And that just made Ren laugh louder. Ryuji looked exasperated, but no sooner did he join Ren’s laugh and even Morgana was chuckling.

Both of them had nothing to do and it was nearing lunch time. Ren had actually planned to go to the Inokashira Park alone and enjoy his present, but Ryuji invited him to go have lunch. A ramen restaurant he knew that had the best ramen Ren just had to try it. The price was also very affordable for a high schooler’s wallet.

Morgana was hungry too, though he wasn’t that enthusiastic for ramen either. “They probably won’t allow pets in there, either,” he mentioned. He was right.

As they were musing where to go and what to do, a call drew their attention to an incoming figure, rushing down the street and through the crowd, blonde pigtails flying in the air.

“Heeeeyyy!!!”

Ann was running toward them, waving her hand high up.

Ann had a sudden craving for those crepes she’d talked about when she spotted them across the street. Hearing their story and their plan to go to a ramen restaurant, Ann agreed they wouldn’t let Morgana inside.

“I think there are no pet restrictions at the diner,” Ann said.

“The one in Central Street?” Ryuji asked.

Ann nodded. “Want to head there together?”

***

The diner wasn’t much, but it was a really nice place to hang out. A nice place to study too, Ren noted. The warm atmosphere, the polite hummed background noise. It would be the perfect place to retreat when it rained too, said Morgana.

It was fun being with them. This was probably the first time the four of them ever hung out like this. And Ren watched as Ryuji and Ann laughed and joked about as if nothing weighed their mind.

His phone vibrated. It was his foster mother.

What are you doing? Are you having fun? Did you get our present? Happy birthday again! We love you.

Present…

Even after what Ren did to them, the trouble he had caused… they still thought of him as their son. And they went to all the trouble to send a present to him. And despite the guilt he was feeling, he couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face.

He didn’t realize Ryuji and Ann had stopped joking around. He didn’t realize they had a funny look on their faces. And he didn’t realize Ryuji had sneaked up beside him. And just as Ren was about to type something, Ryuji grabbed his phone from his hand and flipped through the email.

“Hey—”

“Let’s see, what made our leader smile so bright like that…”

But Ren was too late and his phone was already in Ryuji’s hand and Ryuji had already read his foster mother’s email.

He caught the word Ryuji was mouthing.

Birthday.

Saw the understanding clicked in.

Saw the surprise registering as he whipped his head at Ren and Ren wanted to shut his eyes and turned back time.

“Is it your birthday today?”

“What?” Ann whipped her own head at him.

“Birthday?!” Morgana did too.

And Ren would have laughed but he had no energy to laugh and he wanted to hide from the embarrassment.

The silence stretched on.

“Dude!” Ryuji exploded. “Why didn’t you tell us it was your birthday?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Ren said, grabbing his phone from Ryuji’s slackening grip to hide his embarrassment. “It’s just a birthday.”

“Just a birthday?” Ryuji was aghast. “Dude! It’s your birthday! Of course we should celebrate it!” And he called in a waited.

“So that’s why you didn’t want anything to do with the Palace today,” Morgana mused.

“Happy birthday, Ren!” Ann said, beaming.

“Yeah! Happy birthday!” Ryuji was clasping his shoulder and beaming too.

Everyone was beaming and Morgana was grinning and the aura was toxic and Ren found himself beaming back.

The waiter came and asked for orders.

“We should splurge a bit,” Ann said as she scanned the menu.

“Don’t worry. We got it covered, okay?” Ryuji was following Ann’s example.

And Ren wanted to stop them, because this was embarrassing and there was no stopping them both as they began adding one order after another.

He never had friends. The only celebration he had ever done was with his mother, and his foster parents after his mother passed away. Even then, they had always had a simple celebration. More so when his mother was still alive, because his mother was always busy though somehow she had managed to always be there with him on his birthday with a small cake and slightly more extravagant dinner.

And seeing Ann and Ryuji doing this, as if they had done this countless times, as if this was perfectly normal…

He felt something small pressed against his side when the waiter finally left. Morgana was pressing his body against him, a small warmth, the most comfort the cat had ever given him ever since they met.

And Ren couldn’t help the smile as he said, “Thanks, guys.”

And he meant it.

***

Even with the splurge, they still had a lot of money to spare. They insisted to buy him a present, to which Ren declined because them being with him that day was already a present for him. Ryuji consented, but Ann wouldn’t take no for an answer. So in the end, Ann brought them to the underground mall and there was a photo booth there. And Ryuji was reluctant though and Ren was just watching from behind as Ann forcefully pushed Ryuji into the box.

“Ren?” She looked back and Ren grinned at her scowl. He rose both hands and entered the box without a fight.

They took some photos, which turned out surprisingly good.

It wasn’t much. But really, this was the best thing he had ever received from a friend.

***

He arrived at LeBlanc that night, exhausted from being dragged around by Ann. There were still customers inside—the old couple and someone who claimed to be a critic—so Ren immediately made his way to the stairs at the back of the store after greeting Sojiro. But Sojiro called him back before he got past the counter and said there was a package for him today.

“Your parents sent you something,” Sojiro said.

Foster parents, Ren wanted to say, as he set his bag down and Morgana poked his head out.

“Thank you.”

A small box. Seemed fragile. He’d look inside it later. But then he noticed the letter written on the box. And they were clearly spelled “Happy Birthday”.

Damn it. Does that mean Sojiro now knows too?

Well, he probably wouldn’t care even if he saw it.

He took the box upstairs without another look at his guardian.

He set the bag on the table and Morgana leaped out. He stretched his body. “Finally I’m free!”

“That’s why you should walk on your own once in a while,” Ren commented with a laugh.

Morgana acted like he hadn’t heard and Ren scoffed.

“What did they send you?” the cat inquired as Ren took a seat on his bed and began unwrapping the simple brown box.

A locket. And inside was a photo of his mother, his real mother, tucked neatly into the crevices. And his mother was smiling. Beautiful.

There was a note inside.

You may have only been our son for four years, but we have watched you grow since you were small. We love you, Ren. And we want you to know that it wasn’t your fault. It never was. You did the right thing helping that woman. And we want you to remember that. Just like your mother would have wanted you to.

It had broken their hearts when they found out about Ren’s trial. And it was the only thing they could do to stop him being sent to the detention center. Sent to probation. And Ren couldn’t stop feeling guilty yet grateful for all they had done for him.

“Hey, kid!”

It was probably an hour or two later when Sojiro suddenly called him down. All the customers were gone and Sojiro had cleaned the place up. Yet on the counter was a slice of cake and a candle on top. And Ren stopped on his tracks.

Sojiro noticed his pause. And a rare smile graced his lips.

“What are you doing? Come on and sit down here.”

“What…is this?”

The old man scoffed. “Today’s your birthday, isn’t it? Have a sit and have your birthday cake.”

Ren was still unsure. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. At least, he didn’t think it was.

Noting Ren’s hesitation, Sojiro sighed. “For the love of—sit down!”

The stern tone caused Ren to quicken his footstep and take the seat before the cake.

“How old are you today?”

“Seven...teen,” Ren replied warily.

Sojiro grunted. And maybe it was because of the sudden change of attitude, but Ren suddenly found the grunt was Sojiro’s way to show his affection.

Ren didn’t do anything. His gaze kept shifting from the cake to Sojiro to everywhere else, wondering if maybe this was a dream or he was imagining things.

“Well? Make a wish and blow the candle.”

“Oh—uh—yeah…”

Ren stared at the glowing candle. The fire dancing. It was a simple slice of chocolate cake with a single candle. Feeling nothing would go wrong with blowing the candle, Ren did just that.

And as the fire sputtered out, Sojiro smiled. A genuine beaming smile Ren hadn’t seen before.

“Happy birthday, kid.”

“Uh…thanks…”

Sojiro snorted. “What kind of response is that?”

“It’s just… not like you.”

“Did you think I was some kind of cold, heartless bastard?” his guardian asked with a scoff.

“I…did, actually.”

A silence. Then Sojiro laughed. A hearty laugh that came from his stomach. And it made Ren want to laugh too because maybe this was who Sojiro really was.

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, kid. But a birthday is a birthday. It’s perfectly normal for us to celebrate it.”

And Sojiro smiled again, a warm smile this time, and maybe, Ren could learn to love this place.

~ END ~

Thanks for reading^^

More of my Persona 5 fanfic here

#persona #persona 5 #p5 #ren amamiya #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #morgana #sojiro sakura #writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my story #persona fanfic #p5 fanfic

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