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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

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Californian Dream (Pt. 03 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Pandemonium

It takes a while to process what's going on. The explosion, the flames, the smoke. And the vans, the shooting. It feels like some kind of dream, something too far from reality to be understood. Yet, it's very real. You can tell by how cold you feel now, from your soaked dress glued on your legs, or maybe the wind, or perhaps what's happening not too far away. The chaos emerging from the place you were at only some minutes ago.

“We have to see what's–”

“Bad idea.” Billy grabs your arm, both of you getting down, the sand hurting your knees through the soft fabric of your dress. You barely feel his grip, eyes locked on the hotel, the smell of burned things reaching your nose. “Hey. We gotta get out of here. C'mon.” He starts pulling you with him, and you try to follow up the best you can given your state. The gunfires are loud, nonstop, persistent, and soon enough you can distinguish the yells too. Cries for help, probably.

“Billy, wait. My parents are there.” Resisting him, you try to make him stop, to head back there. “We have to–” Then, when you reach the sidewalk, you see it. Even from the distance, you can see people being dragged, violently pushed inside the back of the vans. You can't see their faces, but it's quite obvious now. “They're...”

“It's called kidnapping. Let's go.” You both set in motion again. Billy's grip on your arm slides down until he's holding your hand, but you don't mind. The only thing in your mind right now is that you don't want to be pushed into the back of any van. He let's go when you finally reach his car, thankfully parked far enough from the pandemonium, and he has no trouble maneuvering it and speeding away, a lot faster than on your way here.

Only when the noises are a distant echo you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Then, you start breathing fast, a hand on your heart as you close your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself down. That gotta be a mistake. A misunderstanding. You were supposed to be there. What would've happened if you and Billy were in there? Would you be shoved into those cars too?

“(Y/N).” He calls, and you give him a glance, your hair covering half of your sight. “You're hyperventilating. You have to slow down.”

“Ok, ok.” You mumble, trying to breathe in deeply and push the air out slowly. After doing that a few times, you feel tears in your eyes, wiping them away. “Where are you taking me?”

“My place.”

You were just about to complain, ask him why he isn't taking you home, where you should be to check if your parents are ok. But it makes sense. Your house may not be safe. “Alright.”

Billy doesn't slow down. He only stops in a small parking lot, beside a building. You don't know exactly where you are, so you just follow him through the sidewalk and into the building, upstairs for two or three floors until he's finally unlocking a door, gesturing for you to walk in. The first thing you notice is a TV, and you quickly make your way over it. “Can I put on the news channel?”

“Sure.”

Turning the TV on, you stop on the first news channel you find, and you immediately recognize the hotel. The reporter is by the fountain, and behind her, there is a lot of firemen, trying to put down the flames. But what gets your attention isn't the destruction, or whatever the woman is saying. Is the blood. You can see it staining the light gray rocks of the hotel's entrance. “Is that...”

“Sit down. C'mon.” Billy pulls you with him, forcing you to take a seat on his couch. Leaning forward, elbows on your knees, you bounce your leg, trying to bring some sense to what the reporter is saying.

“Thirteen of the heirs from the most important and wealthy families of California were taken on a violent, brutal action performed by masked men. According to witnesses, they came right after an explosion in the kitchens, surrounding the hotel and forcing everyone to lie down.” She makes a pause, looking at something behind the camera. “As they expertly picked up the kids one by one, some people were shot as they tried to keep them from taking their children.”

“What?” Gasping, you stand up abruptly, tears in your eyes again.

“The deceased are Mrs. Laurel Whayland, Mrs. Karen Garret, Miss Elena Williams, Mr. Harry Hench, and Miss Gisele Everline. Three more people were taken to the hospital but we still have no news about them.”

“Gisele is dead?” You mutter, tears rolling down. “I-I know those people, Billy. I know them.” Their faces start flashing in your mind, and despite you never being too fond of them, it still hurts.

“I'm sorry.” Billy stands up, and without thinking twice, you hug him, collapsing against his chest. With one hand around his midsection, you use the other to cover your mouth, trying to control the sobs shaking your body. You were supposed to be there. You would be taken, that's for sure. And maybe it would be your mother or father dead by now.

“If it weren't for you I'd be in there.” You cry, stepping away just enough to look at him. “I'd be who knows where now... Maybe even dead, like Gisele.” Gisele. You're superficial, redhead friend. She wasn't your confidant, she wasn't someone you could trust. But she was there, earlier today, playing volleyball on your pool, happy, smiling, breathing, living. Now she's gone.

“Calm down, alright?” Billy seems pretty shaken too, and that's when you notice it could have been him too.

“I-I'm sorry, Billy. I dragged you to that stupid party and if we waited just a little longer you would be in the middle of that mess because of me. I'm so sorry.” Speaking fast, you struggle not to sob again, your voice cracking. “If you died because of me I'd never forgive myself.”

“Alright, I need you to slow down, ok?” Again, Billy guides you to the couch, pulling you to seat down with him. “First of all, there was no way in hell you could've know something like that would happen.” He gestures at the TV, but your eyes are focused on him. “So don't blame yourself. I took you to the gala because I wanted to, you didn't drag me.”

“I–”

“It is now confirmed.” The reporter starts again, and both you and Billy stare at the screen. “The kidnappers left a tape, which is now with the police. Chances are they want a rescue, we just don't know how much yet.”

“This can't be happening.” You mutter, running a hand through your now messy hair. “I don't–”

The phone's loud ring makes you jump, a hand on your heart. “Let me answer that.” As he moves to answer the phone, you finally notice the living room and kitchen are an open space, and there's a small hall with two doors, one of them must be his bedroom. Billy speaks low, facing away from you, so you take the chance to pace around a little, wiping off more tears and trying to calm down, pushing the memory of the explosion and the shootings away.

You stop by the living door window, looking out, and you notice his apartment is only one block away from the beach, and you can see it from here, the moonlight reflecting on the water.

“(Y/N).” You mmediately turn around at the mention of your name. “It's your father. He wants to speak to you.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you walk over to the kitchen space. “My father has your number?”

“Company policy,” Billy says, handing you over the phone.

“Dad?” You say, more tears now threatening to roll down. “Are you ok? Is mom ok?”

“We're both alright. We're alright.” He starts, and you can hear your mother's voice in the back. “I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully, understood?”

“Yeah.”

“We know what those lowlives want. They'll ask for a rescue so high even the Whayland will have trouble paying. And they won't stop. There's nothing on the media yet, but they said it, out loud, that they'll go after the rest of the heirs. That includes you and some other kids too.” With a hand on your forehead, you turn around, finding Billy standing by the table, arms crossed. “I don't think the media will let it out because it'll cause more panic, but we know and we won't let anything happen to you.”

“What should I do then?” You inquire, staring at Billy.

“You'll stay there.” Your father explains, and a low, humorless laugh escapes your lips. He can't possibly think it's ok for you to stay here.

“Dad, that's crazy. I can't just–” Looking away from Billy, you lower your voice, trying not to let him listen. “I can't just ask Billy to stay here dad, this is his place and I don't want to–”

“I've already spoken to Billy and he agreed. Don't worry, he'll be well paid for this... Kindness. But it shouldn't be long. I'll put my men in the investigation. It may be just for some weeks.”

“Let me talk to her.” Your mother says, and soon enough you hear her voice through the phone. But after making sure you're ok, she goes on about the usual stuff. How well you should behave, mostly now, that you'll be living with an employee. And how Billy will be now serving you since he'll be paid for this ‘job’ once this is over. So you just listen, rolling your eyes more times than you can count, muttering a ‘yes’ or a ‘fine’ now and then. It goes on for several minutes until your father takes over, telling you to take care of yourself and hanging up.

Unable to believe what just happened, you put the phone down, slowly walking over to the table, not sure what the look on Billy's eyes means. “I'm sorry for... For this.”

“Your father just hired me for another job, that's all.” There's something on his tone you don't understand, but you don't think he'd answer if you ask.

What you know for sure is that this is a mess, a situation that's complicated for everyone. And of course you're not comfortable with this, having Billy forced to endure you at his place for... Weeks. “Billy, look... I had a nice time today. I had more fun in a couple of hours with you than I have with my friends. And I know this sucks but maybe we can make it work.” Drumming your fingers on the table, you avoid looking at him. “It can be a job, formal, and I can behave just like my mother told me over the phone or it can be an extension of that walk on the beach.”

“Alright.” He breathes out, and you feel a little relieved. “But this is nothing like your house, as you probably already noticed.”

Giving one more look around, you take in the simple kitchen, which is very well organized and clean. “I think your place is fine.” Billy scoffs, walking around the table. “What?”

“Come. There's only one bedroom and I guess it's yours for as long as you'll be staying here.”

“Absolutely not.” Exclaiming, you hesitate a little before following him through the small hall. “I can take the couch, it's no big deal.”

Billy opens the second door, gesturing for you to get inside. “It's small and plain, but I guess you'll manage to sleep just fine.” Billy's bedroom has faded blue walls, two windows, and a double bed set in between them. A wardrobe, a dresser, and a nightstand, on the right side of the bed. There are some posters on the wall, and you pace around, taking a look at them.

“It's cozy, I like it.” Turning on your heels to face him, you manage a small smile. “But I mean it. I'll take the couch. It's more than enough that you're being forced to have me in here.”

“What would your father say if he knew I was making his precious daughter sleep on the couch?”

“First of all, I don't think he has to know. And second, I don't care.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a deep breath. “We can take turns then if you like.”

“Alright. Today is your turn, you need it more than me.”

“Yeah...” Reality kicks in, and you realize that for a moment you forgot why you're even here. “Can I take a shower? I mean, I'll have to sleep on this dress but...”

“I can give you some of my shirts if you don't mind.” When you nod, he moves to his dresser, searching for a while before handing you a dark blue shirt. “There's a bathroom there and another in the hall. But this one is bigger, so... You should use it.”

“Alright.” Hugging the shirt against your chest, you walk over to the bathroom.

“Use the green towel. Is clean and–”

“Thanks, Billy. I'll be alright.” Giving him one last glance, you walk in, locking the door behind your back.

When you're done, you stare in the mirror as you try to decide what to do with your dress. That's what you were thinking about for the thirty minutes you've been in the shower because you don't want to think about anything else. The explosion, the smoke, the people you know being held hostage... Gisele's death. The fact that it could've been you...

Taking a deep breath, you decide to throw the dress away, so you take it with you when you leave the bathroom, finding the bed made, with two pillows set on the edge. Leaving the dress folded on the dresser, you decide to lie down. You'll probably have nightmares, no doubt, but trying to stay awake won't last long since you're tired, very sleepy already. Tossing around to lie on your side, you hug the spare pillow.

You're almost falling asleep when the door is open, and so are your eyes, following Billy as he comes in. When his eyes meet yours he halts, seemingly surprised, a funny expression on his face that makes you chuckle. “What?” You ask in a low voice.

“Nothing, just... It's weird to have a girl on my bed.” He shrugs his shoulders, moving to look for something in his wardrobe.

“Uhm... I honestly doubt that.” It was Gisele who kept reminding you of Billy's behavior. Going so far as naming the girls he was seen with as if you knew any of them. As if she knew any of them. But the memory that made you so angry earlier, feels weird now. Empty, distant. “How many girls have already slept in this bed?”

“You're the first.” When he says that, you move to sit up straight, eyebrows furrowed. “I don't bring girls here.”

“Why?”

“Just an old rule of mine. There's no reason to let them in, they won't last.” Billy turns to face you, a hand holding blankets and a pillow as the other closes the wardrobe doors.

“And why don't they last?” The moment you ask, you regret it. “Nevermind. I'm just a little too curious.” Looking down at your hands, you blush. You're already invading his house, you can't invade his personal life too.

“Do you wanna sleep or do you wanna talk about my love life?” He scoffs, slowly making his way to the door. “Or the lack of it.”

“We're on the same boat then.” You giggle, running a hand through your hair and pushing back a yawn.

“You? That's something I don't believe, princess.”

Your head slows down at the pet name, and by the way Billy stops by the door, shifting his way from one leg to another, you can tell he's a bit surprised too. “Well... You know the options I have so...” Your mind quickly goes through the boys your mother and friends talk to you about. Some of them were kidnapped. But you push this thought back, not wanting to call in more bad dreams than you'll probably already have. “I'll die alone.”

“I'm sure your mother wants you to marry someone. Rich and powerful, of course.”

“Absolutely. So we can join our fortunes.” Kneeling on the bed, you give your voice a dramatic tone. “And make the family even richer and have very rich babies who will inherit more money than they could ever spend in a normal lifetime.” Rolling your eyes, you drop to the bed again, folding both legs beneath you. “Some shit like that.”

“But you always do what's expected of you. Your mother will end up pushing you into someone and you gave up arguing with her so...” Billy shrugs his shoulders, and you ask what this is. How exactly you got into this matter, and why is he making you see through the flaws of your existence. Damn, you're so sleepy. You're not thinking straight.

“I'd leave California before she forces me into it.” This certainty hits you like a brick, and you know you'll do it. You'll get your girly pink Cadillac, throw your luggage in the back, and drive away. “California never felt like home to me anyway.” You mutter, suddenly feeling empty. “I'll get some sleep now, Billy Hargrove. I'm done with opening my heart for today.” Not waiting for him to leave, you lie back down, pulling the blankets up. When you hear the door closing you take a deep breath, closing your eyes once again.

There's something about Billy. You've known some of your friends for many years, but you never spoke to them about the things you've spoken to Billy. He makes you feel different, like you're free to do and say the simple things you could never share with anyone else. Or maybe it's just the sleep taking over, you're not sure. But from all the people on Earth that you know, you're glad you got to do this with Billy. At least here you won't have to put on an act.

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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gofancyninjaworld · 4 years

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watching ONE write women

One of the joys of following a writer for a while is that you get to follow how their ideas develop. One of the things that ONE brought up in an interview (annoyingly I’ve lost the link) was that he didn’t think that he wrote women particularly well.

I was thinking about that. When ONE says that, what comes across to me is that he has no problem writing a female character as an individual rather than a role. All the girls and women he’s written so far have their own voices, own their problems, and have something to do within the story that would be noticeable if they weren’t there. Quite frankly, that alone is over and above what various tests of representation (such as the Bechdel test) ask for.

What he’s not so good at is appreciating what being female brings to a character’s experiences and outlook. But he’s not just left it at that. More on what he’s been doing in a bit (and under the cut).

“...the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges...” -- Anatole France

With his sharp eye and talent for exploring the implications of whatever he posits, ONE has brought up some issues are not inherently gendered, but usually are.

A: Childcare

Metal Bat appears to be the main, if not sole, carer for Zenko. How it affects him is fascinating. He’s one of the longest-serving heroes in the Hero Association, being there before Class S was formed, literally within the first six months of its establishment. He’s been extremely loyal and is highly trusted by the HA -- they put Narinki’s life into his hands without fear. His battle strength is literally praised to the heavens.

Metal Bat makes Zenko a priority, structuring his availability around her school schedule and being present in her life. He gets very angry if these times are threatened without overwhelmingly good cause. His reward is to be perceived by the Hero Association as less committed and so they under-recognise him in terms of ranking, and since rank and pay are linked, under-pay him as well. It’s a story all too many women can relate to. But that’s not all.

Because ONE writes so simply yet conscientiously, something else comes up and has a peek: intersectionality. It’s the concept that we often have multiple social disadvantages that interact and compound our problems. The first is sexism. Regardless of whatever childcare policy the HA has, the sexist assumption that only women care (for the record: this is bullshit) makes it unlikely for them to ask Metal Bat. Second, social capital. The fact that he’s Zenko’s sole carer means that he has low social capital, that informal network of people around you who can help out -- or tell you where to find help and what things to say in order to get that help. [Aside: this is why programmes to help people, unless they reach out aggressively, tend to disproportionately attract those who need it least.] Metal Bat doesn’t have the knowledge. The third is the challenge brought by his being a 17-year old boy. He’s quick to perceive challenge as threat, and threat as something to be met by anger. Witness him threatening to smash the HA headquarters if it turns out that he’s missed Zenko’s piano recital for nothing -- completely not useful to anything. [Another aside: the importance of learning to disambiguate emotions and do useful things with them even if it means being vulnerable as a part of growing up as a man is the whole point of Mob Psycho 100.]

What do the Neo Heroes do? They ask Metal Bat if he wants help with childcare AND HE JUMPS SHIP PRONTO. If that’s not an indictment of the Hero Association, I don’t know what is.

B: Emotional Labour

Saitama has been delegating more and more of the day-to-day work to Genos. What started as an act of service to express his gratitude, respect and love for Saitama is increasingly turning into a second job for Genos. It’s not just the cooking and cleaning and the shopping and the bailing Saitama out if he’s forgotten his wallet again, it’s also the worrying about Saitama, sometimes at inappropriate times. Has he drunk enough water? Has he clean clothes in good repair? What sales is he looking forward to? Have they been marked on the calendar? It’s honestly not doing Genos any good, and it’s one of those things all too many frustrated wives and girlfriends can relate to. This doing the practical and emotional work for another is not intrinsically gendered, but funny how often it breaks that way.

It’s not doing Saitama any good either. He’s using this freed up time to fritter his life ever more aggressively away, playing games with King and finding pointless competitions to enter, all while complaining about feeling less and less connected to anything (if you don’t address the problem, it doesn’t get better, duh!). Worse, he’s started to take that gift of service for granted, witness him airily telling King how he’ll just have Genos go clear up the mess of monsters he’s left outside the flat. I was heartened to see what happened when Saitama went a little too far and asked Genos to go cook and instead of jumping up, Genos gave him the the evil eye and let the awkwardness hang there. That was good -- there’s hope for this guy yet.

Speaking of Genos, he also over-functions for something else Saitama struggles with: advocating for himself. He tends to have Genos be the ugly one so he doesn’t have to be. You can see just how bad he is at self-advocacy when Forte and friends could invite themselves into Saitama’s house at will despite his protests -- and it stopped the instant Genos showed up.

In a sense, it’s not surprising that Genos can do that. When you’re differently-abled (and for once, this is not a euphemism) as he is, being able to clearly ask for what you want and need is life-and-death necessary. If Genos was shy about it, he’s long since had to discard that. But! Let me point to a nuance the story touches on. How pushy you can be without being punished for it depends a lot on who you are, intersecting strongly with race, gender, social status, etc (remember my mentioning intersectionality before). What’s called assertive in a man is called bitchy or sharp-elbowed in a woman. Even taking gender and race out of the equation, there’s still a noticeable difference in the way the world treats Saitama and Genos. You don’t need to be Sigmund Freud to understand the way the short, ugly Dr. Kuseno sweats making sure that Genos positively radiates youth, beauty, wealth and power. That’s part of his right to ask and be taken seriously. You can see how drastically different it is for Saitama, even from his middle school days. Genos notices, and makes sure to leverage his social power for Saitama.

What I love about these examples are that by not automatically heaving a woman into these characters’ roles, ONE’s brought a less frequently seen angle that illustrates the problems they deal with are not ‘womens’ issues per se but are rather inequities that disproportionately affect women -- which is at the heart of what feminists keep saying. When you read Makai no Ossan, you can appreciate that ONE could have gone with female characters and done a great job, but his choosing not to has brought a very welcome dimension to the story.

Women proper

“I’m not like other girls”

Still, bit by bit, ONE has been working more women into his stories. After his interview, the next thing he worked on was the single-volume sequel to Mob Psycho 100, Reigen. He took his challenge head-on by making the POV character Tome and putting her in an all-girls’ high school.

Throughout the story, we see Tome thinking of herself as special, better than her fellow classmates, whom she sees as vapid and shallow. The denouement comes with Tome being humbled as she gets to know her classmates better and realises that they pursue interests just as varied and weird as hers -- only they’re also practicing being socially adept on top of that.

It’s a gentle story, but it’s still a great side-swipe at self-internalised misogyny, the idea that it’s shameful to be like a ‘girl’ and it’s something to distance oneself from. Fortunately, Tome can laugh at herself and grow up.

“Ha ha ha”

For a long time, the only (named) women we had in OPM were Tatsumaki and her younger sister Fubuki. We’ve gotten more women both good and bad: in particular, it’s been very gratifying to find that one of the most dangerous, story-shaping villains in the story is Psykos.

In the webcomic, ONE’s pushed even further. A recent Tweet featured him talking about how hard he finds it to draw women. And he’s added several. No same-face for him! I’ll talk about the new heroines he’s added, but first, let me draw your attentions to something most artists don’t realize they do: massively skew the gender distribution of crowds, even when it is incredibly illogical to do so. With ONE, even drawing the crowds at the fair who gaggle at Amai Mask, he’s got a far more even balance of women and they’re not all young and pretty -- which is much more true-to-life. He’s in the business of drawing people.

ONE has featured microaggressions before, particularly in the way Fubuki can have perfectly sound things to say and be totally ignored, but he brings it properly to the fore with Suiko. No one calls her incompetent, but the little put downs she gets when she puts herself forward for the hero test in lieu of her brother, oh they’re well-observed The look on her face just makes it. I love the way she shut the recruiters up subsequently.

Let’s conclude this tour with a look at Webigaza’s lonely figure. We have another mono-manically focused cyborg in the story. Genos has been called a lot of things -- determined, obsessive even, but crazy? Never. Notice who it’s been reserved for instead. It’s no slip of the tongue.

Wrapping Up

I’m of the impression that ONE really wants to try to capture as much of the human experience as he can in his stories, however whimsical or fantastical the stories themselves are. I’m disarmed by his humility in accepting that he’ll never have the lived experience of half the world’s population but he sure as hell can put some effort into learning how to to writing well-realised, believable, female characters.

I watch ONE’s continued development as a writer with interest.

#OPM #Reigen #ONE #meta #long #women #female characters #I like that ONE treats women not as creatures whose problems and experiences can't possibly be understood #but as people first and foremost #perfect? No and who is #ongoing and adding to his understanding -- yes

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thessalian · 3 years

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Thess vs Roadmaps

I read someone on the comments section of the Guardian the other day talking about people who are really hecking cautious about Johnson’s “roadmap to easing lockdown”. This individual was saying, “Why do you people have to be so doom and gloom all the time? Can’t you take this for the good thing it is? It means this lockdown horror is going to be over! Sunny Uplands! Stop being a misery!”

Thing is ... quite aside from the entirely reasonable skepticism about the policies of a man who says he will be led by “data, not dates” and then gives a whole slew of dates ... I know two things that keep me gloriously cynical about the whole thing.

The first is this: I play video games. I’ve seen “roadmaps” before. Johnson, you twitwaffle, that is possibly the worst fucking bit of terminology you could have used.

Roadmaps don’t mean “a secure route from point A to point B” anymore. Not since software and especially video game companies got hold of it. Now it’s more like a list of New Year’s Resolutions - highly optimistic, nearly undeliverable, and usually revised or abandoned within a month. Or worse, it’s adhered to and turns out not to meet expectations, thereby disappointing everyone involved. When software companies fuck up a roadmap, mostly what they get is a really busy (and regretfully abused) QA team, a disappointed and angry customer base and, at worst, some refunds to process. That’s ... not going to be the case if Johnson’s roadmap fucks up. What happens if Johnson’s roadmap fucks up?

DEAD PEOPLE. LOTS AND LOTS OF DEAD PEOPLE.

Also the final breaking strain put on the NHS, but let’s focus on the dead people for the moment because I can’t help but think about the fact that a NHS GP practice operator handling 50k patients got handed to a US insurer with no one having the slightest fucking bit of say in it when I focus on that too hard and I already want to punch walls. We already know these jag-offs want to dismantle the NHS and they’re running out of opportunities so fuck it, why not run it into the ground?

Yes, I am a fucking cynic. I have reason to be.

Anyway, the other thing I know that makes his stupid roadmap something I side-eye really damn hard is ... well, I don’t want to say ‘human nature’ because a lot of people are decent. But there are enough not-decent people to make what I’m about to flag up pretty damn prevalent: if you give a certain type of person an inch, they will take a mile.

We already have people who refuse to wear masks at all. Worse, we have ones that put on a mask just long enough to get past drivers or ticket barriers and then pull them down to under their chins so they can claim they’re following guidelines. These are the people who don’t focus on why the rules are there; they just say, “Okay, there are rules - what’s the bare minimum I have to do in order to look like I’m complying?” The ones who responded to the announcement made a little before Christmas that there was going to be a full lockdown and ban on travel starting at midnight by cramming themselves into train stations to get to their families before it was technically illegal. These are the ones who will say, “Well, we’re going from lockdown to ‘rule of six’ in March; that’s only a couple of weeks away! Surely it won’t be a big deal if we start now, right?”

It’s already happening. Very loud people have been partying in the green that more or less serves as my back garden. People have been setting off fireworks. The streets are more crowded, as is public transport, and people are way less shy about ignoring social distancing. Summary: people were already acting like lockdown wasn’t a thing, and the only reason they were even pretending until now is because no one else would do it with them. People are easier to convince that it’s not a big deal to ignore lockdown when ‘it’s nearly over anyway’. Add ‘and it’s not like anyone’s enforcing it’ to the list and you’ve got a problem.

Of course I want lockdown to be over. I just want lockdown to be over safely. I have very good reasons for not trusting Boris Johnson or any of the cronyistic bastards he calls a government. They are style over substance, smoke-and-mirrors-ing the entire population while they rob us blind on the taxation level. Sunak with his Instagram crap and Johnson with his ‘artfully’ mussed hair and don’t even get me started on Hancock and Williamson. And Labour? Labour’s worse. Starmer is basically killing Labour’s credibility and since the Liberal Democrats committed political seppuku during the Conservative/Lib-Dem coalition government (generally referred to as Con-Dem because that’s what we were doing to everyone in it), we haven’t got a credible party left.

So no, I’m not going to throw confetti and shout “HURRAH!” at the “roadmap to lockdown“. This government’s betrayed me a few too many times. Besides, if the ‘roadmap’ is anything like the schedule Thames Water laid out for the roadworks around my house? We’re all fucked.

#Thess on COVID

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Arame: Sitting Sasuke

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~3k Rating: G Time Frame: Late in the first trimester of their 2nd year Story Arc: Stand Alone

———-

Author’s Note: Ever since myon included Sasuke in her SetsuAyu doujin, I knew I needed to include Ayumu’s pet in my fic as well. And I had to borrow a certain idea from the doujin as well, because it fit so well with headcanons I already had for the girls.

I’ll link the doujin as well as another source of inspiration in my followup post so tumblr doesn’t drop this one from searches; the tag is barren enough as it is...

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Setsuna hummed happily to herself as she entered the clubroom and turned toward her hidden stash of manga with the intent of getting a chapter or two read before the others arrived. The next book was being released soon in one of her favorite series, so she wanted to reread the previous book to remind herself where everything had left off. Of course, the series was so good that any of the books warranted a reread on their own merit as well.

However, something on the other side of the room caught Setsuna’s eye. Strange, she didn’t remember an aquarium there before. Her manga quickly forgotten, she made her way over. Oh, it wasn’t an aquarium as it wasn’t filled with water, rather it just had a bowl of it in the middle. What was the term used for… terrarium, that was it. So, what critter had one of her friends decided to bring to school?

Setsuna hunched down to get a better view into the various structures in which an animal could hide within the terrarium. At first, she didn’t see anything, so she shifted her position to check through one of the side panels. And that was when she finally spotted it, a purple snake, coiled up inside something that resembled a pink rabbit.

“It’s so~ cu~te!” Setsuna couldn’t help saying aloud as she stared, transfixed at the animal.

Though she’d never considered herself a fan of snakes, she wasn’t exactly afraid of them either. She’d seen larger snakes at the zoo and smaller ones while out hiking but had always been indifferent toward them. This time, however, instead of a neutral reaction, she found herself wanting to hold this one and see it up close. As such, Setsuna had to resist the urge to pull off the top of the terrarium and reach in. It would be best to ask permission from the owner, she told herself. After all, she didn’t know if it was venomous or if it would be afraid of strangers or whatever and the last thing she wanted to do was to scare or hurt the cute little thing.

“Setsuna-chan?”

Setsuna jumped and let out a startled cry as she whirled to face the door, twisting awkwardly from her position and throwing herself off balance. “Yuu-san? Ayumu-san?” She uttered, catching herself on the bookshelf.

“You found him…” Ayumu’s expression was apologetic.

“Eh?” Setsuna was confused. How was she expected to not notice such a sizable addition to the clubroom?

“Sorry for not asking permission first.”

Oh. Yeah, it did actually violate one of the school’s policies. But Setsuna hadn’t even considered that earlier as she had been so distracted by the adorableness. And of course, he belonged to Ayumu, the pink rabbit enclosure should have been enough of a giveaway.

“It’s fine. I’ll let it slide this time.” Setsuna assured.

Relief took over Ayumu’s posture. “Thank you.”

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of his visit?”

“Construction.” Yuu said.

“Hm?”

“That storm last week did some damage to the exterior of our apartment complex.” Yuu explained further. “So now they’re fixing it.”

“And the noise has been stressing out Sasuke to the point where he’s not eating or even wanting to be held or do anything other than hide.” Ayumu continued.

“So, poor Sasuke-san is scared?” Setsuna turned her attention back to the terrarium. “Awwww…”

“Under different circumstances, I’d give him to Yuu-chan for a little while, but she’s right next door, so that wouldn’t be much of an escape.”

“That makes sense.”

“Plus, I’ve temporarily banned Yuu-chan from feeding Sasuke because she…”

“Ayumu~!” Yuu suddenly whined. “That’s supposed to be a secret! And besides, it’s not my fault he keeps looking at me with those adorable, pleading eyes. How could I not give him a second serving?” She blinked and covered her mouth as she realized she had just been the one to divulge the details of the supposed secret.

Both Setsuna and Ayumu laughed a little at the cute behavior.

“Anyway,” Ayumu continued “I was hoping I could either leave him here for a little while or maybe someone from the club could…”

“I’ll take him!” Setsuna offered before realizing she was interrupting. “Sorry, I mean…”

This time, it was Yuu who chuckled at the reaction.

“It’s alright.” Ayumu dismissed with a shake of her head and a smile. “But are you sure? Do you want to check with your parents first?”

“It will be fine.”

“Have you ever taken care of a snake before?”

“No, but surly I can look up what I need online, right?”

“I’ll just write up a list of things that Sasuke is used to, like feeding times and temperatures and light and such.”

“That works too.” Setsuna nodded. “Say, uhm… you said he didn’t like being held…”

“Oh, no, he usually likes it when I hold and play with him, but he’s just been so stressed by the noise…”

“I see, do you think maybe I could…” Setsuna’s gaze drifted back toward the terrarium.

“Well, he’s pretty shy around strangers.” Ayumu admitted. “It took him a number of visits to get used to Yuu-chan. You’re welcome to try, of course, but don’t be too disappointed if he doesn’t respond.”

Setsuna couldn’t help smiling as she lifted the hinged portion of the lid. “Hey, Sasuke-san.” She cooed as she reached her hand toward the pink structure.

A curious purple head poked out at the mention of his name and a forked tongue flicked out to taste the scent of the new person invading his home. Setsuna paused a few centimeters away, remembering Ayumu saying he might be shy and hoping Sasuke would be the one to close the distance. Thankfully, her instincts were right and a moment later he was coiling around her hand and wrist. She giggled at the strange sensation of scales sliding over her skin.

“Wow…” Yuu breathed in awe.

“I think he likes you, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said happily.

“He really is adorable…” Setsuna swooned as she pulled her arm out of the tank and moved it closer so she could better inspect the creature.

As if in response to the praise, Sasuke slithered farther up the raven-haired girl’s arm and held his head up close to her face.

“Uhm, forgive me for asking, Ayumu-san,” Setsuna started as she reached her free hand up to pat the snake gently on the head “but what made you choose a snake for a pet? He’s adorable, but I would have thought you would go with something…” she paused to decide the best word “fluffier? Like a rabbit or something.”

“It was all Yuu-chan’s fault.” Ayumu responded with a smile that indicated a wealth of warm memories were welling up within her.

Of course. That made sense.

“Rabbits are definitely one of my favorite animals,” the redhead continued “and Yuu-chan has known that since not long after we met. So, for my birthday one year, she saved up and tried to buy a stuffed rabbit she knew I would like.”

“But it turned out to be a bit too expensive.” Yuu added with a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “So as a last resort, I found a plush I knew I could get from a crane machine, a purple snake. I was worried she wouldn’t like it, but…”

“I’m sure Ayumu-san would like any gift from Yuu-san.” Setsuna thought aloud.

“You’re right there, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu confirmed.

“Working hard to obtain a gift but ending up having to get something else that is still loved by the recipient because the thoughtfulness of the giver is more important to them is a classic trope.” Setsuna explained. “Some of my favorite episodes and chapters have been centered around such a plot device.”

Both Yuu and Ayumu laughed lightly.

“So that made you fall in love with snakes and that’s why you got Sasuke-san?” Setsuna pondered.

Ayumu shook her head. “No, that was Yuu-chan again. She spotted him at a pet store and set up a plan for me to get him.”

“Like with the plush from years before, he was more expensive than I could afford.” Yuu admitted. “But I had the store hold him for a few days and between Ayumu and I, and with some help from her parents, we were able to get him.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice.” Setsuna said with a smile, despite a small pang of jealousy. But who could blame her? Who wouldn’t want to be with someone so obviously devoted to them? “Hehe.” She suddenly laughed as a completely different idea came to her. “If I put him over my shoulders, instead of a feather boa, I’d be wearing an actual boa.”

“He’s a python actually.” Ayumu corrected. “A ball python. But he does like riding on my shoulders at home.”

“Want to ride my shoulders?” Setsuna asked of the snake on her arm as if he might actually understand. “I’d wear him through practice if I wasn’t afraid of him falling.” She continued as she coaxed Sasuke into position.

“He’s pretty good at holding on as I walk around.” Ayumu said. “But the sudden movements of our dances might scare him.”

“Mmm.” Setsuna nodded in agreement. “But still, wouldn’t it be fun to design a costume around him?”

“Maybe write a song about him?” Yuu chimed in.

“Yeah, something like a ballad with slow, graceful movements.” She hummed a random tune and made gentle wave motions with her arms, carefully monitoring Sasuke’s response. “Though I suppose if he’s shy, he may not like the crowd too much…”

“Or the flashing lights and effects.” Ayumu added.

“Well if that’s a concern, why not a small, private show?” Yuu suggested. “Like just the three of us?”

“That might work better.” Ayumu seemed to be warming to the idea.

“Sounds like fun.” Setsuna said with an excited smile.

“Oh, and if we do want to share it with others,” Yuu shared in the excitement “we could always film it and make it a PV to post online.”

“That’s an amazing idea, Yuu-san! We should try that someday.”

“Semp… AAAIII!” Kasumi’s call for her senior turned into a scream.

“Kasumi-san?!” Shizuku exclaimed as her fellow first-year spun and barreled into her as though she had forgotten she was there.

“S-s-snake!” The ash blonde cried in a panic, trying to push past the brunette to escape the clubroom they had just entered.

“Kasumi-san, wait!” Shizuku called before giving chase to her fellow first-year.

“Uhm…” Setsuna pondered as she moved back toward the terrarium. “Do we have anything here that we could use to cover this thing until I can bring it home after practice?”

“I think Kanata-san has a blanket or two…” Yuu thought aloud.

“We probably shouldn’t borrow them without her permission.” Ayumu dismissed. “What if she is scared of snakes as well and it ends up bothering her to have her blankets used in such a way?”

“Perhaps we can leave him in the student counsel office for the time being?” Setsuna offered.

“That sounds good.” Ayumu nodded.

“Back in you go, Sasuke-san.” Setsuna guided the snake down her arm and into his terrarium. “Everything will be alright. One short little move now and another big one in a bit, but then you’ll be in a nice quite apartment. Sound like a plan?”

For his part, Sasuke slithered into his rabbit enclosure and coiled up. However, after a moment, he poked his head out and stared at Setsuna for a few seconds before pulling back in.

“Looks like he agrees.” Ayumu commented before lifting the tank to take it to the student counsel office.

----------

Everything was not alright.

Setsuna sighed as she stared at the snake in the terrarium she had just finished setting up in her room.

She really should have checked with her parents first. Or perhaps she should have made sure she knew everything about caring for a snake before she jumped at the opportunity to do so. While she maintained confidence that she was able to do everything on Ayumu’s list, it took quite a bit of convincing before her parents let her store the frozen mice in their freezer.

And what the heck was up with this one instruction on the list? Was it normal for snake owners to sing to their pets to encourage them to eat? Or was it simply something special Ayumu did for Sasuke?

Well, Setsuna did recall reading at some point about some study performed with music as an aid in plant growth. And it was true that music had a power that transcended the need to understand the language of the lyrics. Babies and many mammals responded positively to music. So why not reptiles? Suddenly, the practice no longer seemed strange to Setsuna.

She got up and quickly made her way to the bathroom to retrieve the mouse she had left thawing in the sink. Ayumu had mentioned that since Sasuke was well past his scheduled feeding, that Setsuna should make an attempt as soon as possible.

“Ready to eat, Sasuke-san?” Setsuna asked, pulling the mouse out of its bag with a large pair of tweezers and opening the lid of the terrarium. “Here comes a cute little mouse.” She moved the food as though to pretend it was alive.

When Sasuke did not seem to repond, Setsuna leaned down to check. Sure enough, he hadn’t budged at all. His eyes were open, so he was undoubtedly aware of Setsuna and the presence of food, but he remained still.

Well, music it is then. Setsuna stood straight and took a breath.

“Hashiridashita! Omoi wa tsuyoku suru yo.” Setsuna began, keeping her volume low so as not to disturb her parents. However, she almost forgot the next line when Sasuke’s head popped out of his enclosure. “Nayandara kimi no te o nigirou.” The snake seemed to be ignoring the mouse and stared directly up at her. As there was no music accompanying her, Setsuna skipped a few beats ahead to keep the song going. “Daiji na kimochi maru de uragiru you ni sugoshita…”

Setsuna continued through the first verse, watching Sasuke for any further response beyond occasionally flicking out his tongue. Upon reaching the chorus, she began moving the mouse again. This time, it caught Sasuke’s attention. Just inside the enclosure, Setsuna could see scales sliding past each other as the snake shifted its position. Then, right as she reached the end of the chorus, Sasuke struck.

Startled at the swift movement, Setsuna almost dropped the tweezers. Her mental record scratched for second before she recovered and continued into the second verse. She then withdrew the tweezers and gently closed the lid before watching with fascination as Sasuke began the process of slowly swallowing the mouse.

Only a bulge behind Sasuke’s head remained as evidence of his feeding by the time Setsuna finished her song. Smiling, she retrieved her phone and snapped a quick picture to send to Ayumu.

“Good boy, Sasuke-san.” Setsuna cooed a she hit Send.

UeharaAyumu: He ate!

UeharaAyumu: Oh thank goodness

UeharaAyumu: I was so worried

UeharaAyumu: Thank you so much Setsuna-chan!

ScarletStorm: You are welcome, Ayumu-san

ScarletStorm: But no thanks are truly necessary.

ScarletStorm: I merely followed your well-written instructions.

UeharaAyumu: But I do need to thank you

UeharaAyumu: For providing Sasuke with an environment where he felt comfortable

UeharaAyumu: He trusts you

UeharaAyumu: And that is enough to be thankful for

ScarletStorm: Very well then.

ScarletStorm: On a related note, your instructions say that I should not hold him until he is finished digesting?

UeharaAyumu: That’s right

UeharaAyumu: I think most of us might need a rest after eating basically a week’s worth of food in one meal

ScarletStorm: That makes sense

Though it made sense, Setsuna found it a little disappointing. While her primary reason for agreeing to watch Sasuke was to help a friend in need, she also had a selfish reason of wanting to experience what it might be like to have a pet, even if just for a week or so. And part of having a pet was petting it and holding it and the like, right?

UeharaAyumu: But don’t worry, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: He should be good to go in a day or two, depending on a few factors

UeharaAyumu: But given the circumstances, I would bet on the lower side of that range

UeharaAyumu: Just check in on him when you get home from practice tomorrow

UeharaAyumu: He trusts you so if he’s ready, he will come to you if you put your hand near him like you did earlier today

Setsuna chuckled. It almost seemed like Ayumu had read her mind though the phone.

ScarletStorm: Alright, I will try that tomorrow.

ScarletStorm: Thank you, Ayumu-san.

UeharaAyumu: I’m the one who should be thanking you

UeharaAyumu: For agreeing to take care of Sasuke

UeharaAyumu: And for getting him to eat

ScarletStorm: You already thanked me for that.

ScarletStorm: And the pleasure is mine.

ScarletStorm: Anyway, I need to get back to my studies.

ScarletStorm: But I wanted to give you an update on Sasuke-san first.

UeharaAyumu: It was very much appreciated

UeharaAyumu: Have a good night, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: See you tomorrow!

ScarletStorm: Yes, you as well. See you tomorrow.

Setsuna set down her phone and turned her attention back to the terrarium, only to find Sasuke staring up at her. Oh dear… was this what Yuu meant when she meant by adorable, pleading eyes? She suddenly empathized with the plight the twin-tailed girl faced. The temptation to go thaw out another mouse was ris… No. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke-san.” Setsuna apologized. “Ayumu-san said you can only have one at a time. She was very clear on that. But… she didn’t limit how many songs I could sing to you… Would you like me to sing something else?”

Sasuke lifted his head and flicked his tongue as if to respond that he was interested.

“Alright.” Setsuna said with a smile. “How about an old favorite of mine from one of the best groups in school idol history?”

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Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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record-on-the-shelf · 4 years

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Being a Starbucks Barista During COVID-19

So…I’m a Starbucks barista that decided to go back to work. For those of you who don’t know, Starbucks gave their employees the option of whether they wanted to go back to work or not. We get paid our average hours through May 3 regardless of what we decide. I’ve been with the company for over 2 years now and have never taken a vacation. So of course I took advantage of taking a week off and getting paid to do that. Being who I am, I lasted only 1 week before I got stir crazy and wanted to go back to work. There were also some good incentives to go back to work such as our usual free drink/food and coffee bean mark-outs, but we also get an extra $3/hr, 50% discount and tips. The tips definitely make it worth it (I went from getting $20 to $120 every week!!). Anyways, I got some insight for you on what it is like to work during COVID-19 as a Starbucks barista.

Company-wide: Cafe stores are closed, hours have changed, drive thru and grab-and-go only. Most stores in each district are closed. The amount of stores that are open are dependent on the amount of employees willing to work. We, the employees, are not to blame for stores not being open close to hospitals. The stores are determined based on if they have drive thrus and if they have enough space to accommodate grab-and-go pickup.

My store: We are only open 7-2 because our district thought it was best to have 2 stores open instead of 1 to alleviate the line a bit. Our line begins forming 30 mins to open and continues being busy until we cut off the line 30 mins to close. Sometimes, the line gets out of hand and wraps onto the main road in front of our building. We have had the cops come and redirect the traffic because it gets bad at times. Typically our line is 30+ cars long and it takes us anywhere from 30-50 mins to get through the line depending on how large the orders are and who is actually making the drinks. People make the decision to get in line despite knowing it will take awhile.

At my store in particular, we get quite a few bad, rude and/or entitled customers.

“Since I can’t come inside to enjoy my drink, can I get 2 free coffees that Starbucks is offering?” Umm..what now? We are in a pandemic and we are not giving you free coffees because of the mild inconvenience. On top of that, the offer is for front-line health care workers to get a free tall hot/iced coffee. The coffee isn’t for bored soccer moms with nothing else to do...

“This line is ridiculous!! You need to get employees that can actually do their jobs.” Sorry you feel that way. We have been trying our best. Taking it out on the employees is not going to solve the problem. On top of that, we don’t have enough employees. If you want the store to remain open, you have to deal with the line. Plus we didn’t hold you at gunpoint to get in line. The only way to make the line shorter is for customers to obey the stay at home order.

“You need to open more stores.” Sorry, we don’t have enough employees. (I had to repeat this at least 3 times per person because they weren’t grasping the concept of work being voluntary.)

My manager and I went out to cut off the line because we were about to close and a woman tried cutting in front of 10 cars to make sure she could still get a drink. I told her that the line goes back behind her, that she was cutting the line, and that we were not taking any more customers. She ignored me, sped to the back of the line where my manger was and lied to her saying that I told her that she could get in line. My manger, not wanting to deal with it, told her that I 100% didn’t say that but let her in anyways to avoid any more lies and yelling.

Customers have attempted to bribe the barista stopping the line to let them in.

Several customers have ran over our sign with our hours that blocks the drive thru when we close. They think that by getting into the drive thru lane automatically means we have to serve them. Sorry, that is not the case.

One customer yanked and banged on the front door after we closed. Keep in mind, we have 4 signs on our door and I wrote our hours largely on the windows too. He proceeded to look confused, walked around to the side of our building to the drive thru window and started banging there too. If he didn’t leave, we were going to call the cops. Thank goodness it didn’t have to come to that. Our store has made too many calls to the police this past year.

“You guys always run out of food.” We order as much food as we can that makes sense. We have donated so much food to Salvation Army at the end of each day. Trust me, we only run out of popular food and that happens maybe an hour to close. If you come late, there’s a good chance that the food item you want will be gone.

Customers will crowd around the front door and attempt to drink on the patio. We have to continuously go outside to tell customers to stay 6ft apart and that they have to enjoy their drinks in their car and not by the door.

A lot of young teens come through the drive thru and then park in the lot to spend time with each other. 9 times out of 10, they don’t practice social distancing. Since they are on our property, we can get in trouble too so we try to shut it down as much as we can.

I also spend a lot of time online when I am not at work. I’ve looked on reddit, tumblr, twitter, facebook and the news to see what customer concerns were.

One customer was mad that they could no longer access the free internet we provide. Saying that we “needlessly closed the cafes.” Sir, we are not purposely attacking you. We have to think about our safety as well as yours. If you need internet, several grocery stores have free internet. You can sit in the parking lot and still access it in most cases.

“Starbucks is not an essential business and shouldn’t be open.” I generally agree with you. However, the amount of healthcare workers that come through and show us immense amount of gratitude makes it worth it. We are meant to be open to serve them. Sadly, we get more people that are meant to stay home, coming in. They make the line too long where some essential workers don’t have time to sit and wait.

Customers have been complaining on reddit that we have been rude. I can’t speak for other stores, but mine has tried to remain positive and friendly. Keep in mind that we are scared and worried just like you. We can only hold back our fear from turning negative for so long. We deal with customers not following social distancing and the stay at home order coming in. They can be mean and downright disrespectful at times. We wish that we could refuse service but we need to keep in mind our policies. Overall, we are stressed to the very limit while working. All stores are. Lines are too long, some cars have families who order 6 custom drinks that take extra time. Then mobile/delivery orders come through with up to 20 drink orders at a time.

However, there are some pretty great times too.

Customers bring in their dogs to get pup cups. I take pictures of course! They brighten up our day so much.

Customers are generous with tips. We may have tipped the scale a bit by putting two tip jars out with a yes or no questions attached to them. We have done simple questions too like “do you like cats or dogs?” or our best question was “Did Carol Baskin kill her husband?” We have fun with it and so do our customers.

We get customers that are extremely funny or pleasant to talk to while we make their drinks.

We get to meet employees from all around and make new friends.

We have the honor of serving our front-line workers.

If you decide to come to Starbucks:

Make sure you have time to wait in line.

If you don’t have 30+ mins, mobile order and come to the front door. Please give us at least 5-10 mins if you can.

Pay with card or phone to prevent cash handling. Every time we handle cash, that person has to go to the back room and wash their hands. Save everyone’s time by doing that.

Wear a mask. The CDC recommends it and it gives us more peace of mind.

Don’t touch our hands when we hand you your items. Again, we have to wash our hands, which wastes precious time.

Only front-line workers get to take advantage of the free drink promotion.

Have backup food/drink items in mind! Due to the increased volume of orders, we run out quickly. We don’t want you to waste time in line if we don’t have the specific item you want. It sucks waiting so long and to not get anything at all.

Don’t try to be funny and fake cough. It makes us freak out.Don’t be that person.

Don’t smoke cigarettes in our drive thru. Some of us have allergic reactions to the secondhand smoke. We have told people before. Most don’t listen. We have, in the past, shut the window and refused to serve them until they put it out. We hate doing that but we are not putting our employees in harms way just so you can have a quick high. Wait until you leave our drive thru please and thank you.

Be aware of our hours. Don’t get mad when we stop letting new cars come through.

Please refrain from ordering at the window. It messes up the groove of the people making drinks. It makes the line stop longer than it needs to.

Let us know if the food item you want needs to be warmed. Some items come warmed automatically while others don’t. If you come to the window, take your items and then tell us you wanted it warmed up, we have to throw the item away and get you a new one. Don’t waste food.

Same goes for drinks. Let us know if you wanted it hot or iced, what size and if there needs to be sweetener. The drinks all have their own presets. If you don’t tell us, don’t get mad when we make it to the preset. It is up to you to order correctly. Side note: if you think you are going to pull off the TikTok hack where you purposely order a grande and get to the window and say otherwise, you are mistaken. You WILL NOT get the extra drink for free nor will you get away with not paying for the size up-charge. It has happened way too many times and we are over it.

Tip your barista? We don’t have to be here, but we are. Most of us rely on tips to pay our bills. Some of us got laid off from our second jobs. Some of us have partners that got laid off and need as much extra income as possible.

In general, be nice. It makes everyone’s day better if you do. We get nasty customers and having great ones help make the day not suck. Trust me when I say that being called a c**t, a b***h, a w***e, etc. for just doing my job to the best of my ability sucks. It makes you not want to come to work anymore. Plus I believe in karma.

That’s all for now folks! Message me back stories if you are also a barista, I would love to hear how your store is doing. I will block and report trolls so don’t do it. I may update this post or make a part 2 if I have more stories. Let me know if you want to see the dog photos? Umm I think that’s it?

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nayutai · 4 years

Text

Sleep Walker

⇢ Genre fluff (this nearly killed Jesus Christ fluff authors are powerful)

⇢ Pairing Jimin x OC

⇢ Word Count 4251

⇢ Summary Jimin finds himself wandering into a 24-hour coffee shop after his efforts to sleep have proved unsuccessful where he finds more than just the caffeine boost he needs to get through his day

⇢ Notes this goes out to my love bug @tae-tae-drives-me-kray

Working the night shift at a 24-hour coffee shop makes for a very boring shift. Most of the customers clear out by the time that two o’clock rolls around and those who do pop in are on their way to their own early morning shifts and generally don’t stay long. They also don’t usually start arriving until at least 4:30. For Amira, this means that she can eat snacks and binge watch Supernatural until the day time people show up for the most part. At $11 an hour it’s a pretty cushy gig if you don’t mind the fucked up sleep schedule.

The sound of the bell above the door tinkling loudly just before three sends Amira flying from her perch on a stool behind the counter. Whoever it is giggles melodically at the flurry of creative curses that come out of her mouth as she rises to your feet dramatically. She gives them a dirty look that softens at the way their eyes twinkle even in the low light of the cafe.

“Are you okay?” At least they have the decency to ask about her well-being after nearly giving her a heart attack. The lower half of their face is covered in a mask and a baseball cap sits low on his head. If it weren’t for the fact that this person’s eyes look so friendly she’d be standing a lot closer to the silent alarm and the baseball bat that her manager allows her to store under the counter.

“Just peachy for someone who was on the verge of death. What would you like to order?” He rattles off the name of some frappuccino thing with an assload of ingredients and Amira has the sudden urge to beat her head against the granite countertop. Being that she works night shift, most of her barista knowledge circled the memory drain a long time ago due to the fact that the most complicated thing the early morning demographic orders is flavored iced coffee. A walk in the park compared to the science experiments that the daytime crew is required to mix up throughout the day.

“I’m gonna keep it real with you, chief. I forgot how to make this but I don’t have the authorization to do refunds so if it’s bad you’re stuck with it.”

“At this point, it could be dishwater and I’d drink it as long as it’s got caffeine.”

And yet he ordered one of the froo froo drinks Amira thinks to herself. Those drinks have the least amount of caffeine out of everything on the menu. He’ll be asleep before he even finishes his drink.

“Well if caffeine is what you need, this drink isn’t what you want. I’ve got just the thing though.” You put away the clear cup for the frappucino with his consent and reach for a regular coffee cup. “What’s your name? I know you’re the only one here but it’s against store policy for any cup to leave this hellhole without a name on it.” He seems to panic at the thought of giving up his name, a wary look morphing his gaze. Her brows creases as she watches him contemplate how he wants to answer what she thinks is a very simple question.

“Jimin...” He says after a minute.

“Ha, that’s cool. There’s a guy in BTS with the same-“ Amira’s hand freezes halfway through writing his name as her drowsy brain starts connecting some very important dots. The news lady on channel six had said they’d be in town this weekend but never in a million years did she expect something like this to happen. She peeks at him from beneath her lashes. He looks ready to bolt out the door at the slightest provocation so she do her absolute best to remain calm for his sake.

Alright, sis you can do this. Just stay cool, calm, and collected. Mama ain’t raise a loser you can do this.

Jimin visibly relaxes when Amira starts writing again and turns to start making his drink. It’s a special concoction she makes for her fellow graveyard peeps. It’s strong enough to knock a donkey on its ass which is why it’s such a hit. One of her regulars, a long haul trucker, tells Amira all the time that he doesn’t know how he’d make it through his long drives without the liquid defibrillator that he practically orders by the gallon. Definitely doesn’t seem safe but he’s got an incredible driving record and he always brings her a fistful of the soft peppermint candies she’s partial to.

“Thank you for not freaking out. I’m not really supposed to be here.” Jimin mumbles as he accepts his drink. He loves interacting with fans but not at two a.m when he’s barely able to stand up from his lack of sleep.

“I gathered as much. Not many global superstars stroll through here at this hour or at all really.” Amira give him a smile that she hopes puts him at ease and, judging by the way his lips turn up a bit, it may have worked.

“Couldn’t sleep and we’ve got interviews all day so at this point I don’t have time to sleep hence the desperate need for caffeine.” He takes a cautious sip of the drink in his hand. She wasn’t kidding when she said that it would help. The caffeine hits his veins with the force of a speeding bullet train and Jimin already feels more alert just a few sips in.

Somehow, talking about his sleep troubles snowballs into a conversation about Disney movies and why Maleficent is the baddest bitch in the Disney realm when the blaring of his ringtone cuts her rant short. A heavy sigh escapes him at the interruption. He’d much rather listen to the adorable barista in front of him continue her impassioned argument, but duty calls.

“Guess that’s my cue. Thank you for the drink and the company.”

“No problem! If that shit starts fucking with your heart rate though you did not get it here. I refuse to be attacked by your twitter army for giving you heart palpitations. I ain’t built for that type of guerilla warfare.” Jimin full on belly laughs, nearly dropping the rest of his drink in the process. He couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile on his face even if he wanted to.

He grips the door handle in his hand but something is holding him back. Something feels unfinished and his feet refuse to move any further until that changes. Jimin turns around to see the source of his frozen feet standing behind the counter again, staring at his still form curiously. Before he can stop himself, Jimin crosses the short distance, snatching the pen stuck to the top of her apron to scribble his phone number on a nearby napkin. The gagging noises she makes when she realize what he’s just done make him feel justified in his rash decision. This time when he backs away, the smile on his face is one of mischief.

“Don’t let this be the last time I talk to you or I’ll never forgive you.” Jimin’s steps feel lighter as he treks back to the hotel to face the wrath of his manager. He hopes desperately that she texts him later. A frown replaces the grin behind his face mask at the prospect of his new crush not contacting him after tonight. His steps falter slightly as he processes the fact that he just met her not even a full hour ago and has already developed a full-fledged crush on her. Oh, Amira, so powerful and yet so unaware of it.

[Amira]: best friend

[Amira]: rise from the dead

[Amira]: I have a story to tell and before you even ask no it can’t wait until a decent hour

[Pomegranate]: if this doesn’t involve you meeting BTS or you hitting the lottery and paying off my crippling student loan debt I promise I don’t care

[Amira]: ….sometimes I swear you’re psychic

[Pomegranate]: BITCH DID YOU HIT THE LOTTO?????

[Pomegranate]: I BEEN YOUR BEST FRIEND FOR 13 YEARS DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME

[Amira]: shut up I didn’t hit the lottery but I did meet someone from BTS…

[Amira]: Jimin to be more specific

Incoming call from Pomegranate

“Well look what we have here. A traitor.” Jimin rolls his eyes at Taehyung’s dramatics but his best friend and bandmate is having none of it. “How dare you go traipsing off into the concrete jungle without me? We’re supposed to cause mayhem together and you left my ass in the middle of the night like I’m some side chick.”

“It’s really not this deep, Tae.”

“To you. Which is exactly why I snitched to Sejin.” Of course, Taehyung was the one to rat him out to their manager. He could be quite vengeful when he felt that he’d been wronged and obviously he took not being invited on his late night coffee hunt as a personal affront. The Capricorn energy coursing through his veins absolutely could not let that stand.

Jimin opens his mouth to respond when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He ignores it for the sake of pacifying Taehyung but when it vibrates twice more his curiosity gets the best of him.

[Unknown]: uhhhh hi?

[Unknown]: ew that was awkward as hell pls forgive me

[Unknown]: shit I didn’t even tell you who I am wow anyways this is the barista you tried to kill earlier also known as Amira

Jimin snorts at Amira’s messages which piques Taehyung’s interest in a major way. He can’t recall a time when his friend has ever looked so disgustingly happy over a text message from anybody. Just as he’s about to lean over to look at the screen, Jimin shoves the sleek iPhone right in his face. He’s babbling on and on about how funny and cute this Amira person is which only serves to further confuse Taehyung.

“I just want you to know that none of that made sense to me.”

Taehyung is almost sorry that he asked as Jimin launches into an impassioned retelling of the beautiful girl that made him a drink that is sure to keep him up until the end of time. A slow smile spreads across Taehyung’s face as he connects the dots. Jimin has a crush. A big one. He can’t wait to tell the other members that their precious Jiminie has finally found someone that meets his incredibly high standards. Out of all the idols back home, both male and female, that have practically thrown themselves at Jimin’s chelsea boots and it’s a random cafe employee that manages to make him totally enraptured.

“So let me get this straight,” Amira’s eyes follow her best friend Cameren as she paces back and forth across her living room. “It’s a regular degular night at work until some guy in a mask walks in and scares the shit outta you. Lo and behold that guy is fucking Park Jimin from BTS and you make him drink that god awful elixir of the damned you insist on serving to people and he actually liked it?”

“Not just that.” She fishes the napkin with Jimin’s number on it out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and carefully unfolds it so that Cameren can see the string of digits scratched into the napkin. The creative string of curses that fly out her mouth would make most people blush but after more than a decade of impassioned screaming, Amira doesn’t even flinch. Her eyes widen comically though when she notices Cameren reaching forward as if to snatch the napkin out of her hand. She thanks God for gifting her with reflexes quick enough to keep it out of Cameren’s reach.

“Bitch! Let me see it.”

“No! He gave me this because he obviously trusted me not to pass it around and I don’t plan to disappoint my future husband this early in the game.” She replies indignantly.

“Look at you. All delusional and shit but whatever I respect it.” Cameren declares as she props herself on the coffee table in front of her best friend. “So, did you text him?”

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Cameren opens her mouth to respond with what is no doubt going to be some witty quip about exactly who she thinks Amira is, but she’s interrupted by the tell-tale ping of her phone receiving a text message. The shocked look on Cameren’s face is perfectly mirrored on Amira’s as she slowly picks her phone up from the couch cushion she’d sat it on.

[Kristoff Hater]: you’re too adorable to be awkward

Amira sits frozen in place as she reads and rereads his message. There’s no way he just said that. There is absolutely no way in hell that the Park Jimin himself just called her adorable. Have the heavens finally opened up? Did God decide that today is the day that she secures the biggest win of all? She’s in such a state of shock that Amira doesn’t even notice Cameren trying to get her attention until she starts physically shaking her shoulder. Amira’s voice box is still refusing to function so she simply hand over her phone to let Cameren see the message for herself. Her friend’s answering shriek perfectly voices Amira’s own feelings.

“He’s typing again!” Cameren thrusts the phone back into Amira’s hands just in time for another message to appear on the screen but she quickly close the conversation when Jimin starts typing once more. It takes longer than expected but the tell-tale ping from her phone makes Amira’s heart skip a beat at what he could possibly have said this time.

[Kristoff Hater]: speaking of you being adorable I need a contact picture so go ahead and hand one over and no one gets hurt

[Kristoff Hater]: or don’t because you’re an autonomous human being and that’s totally up to you but I would really appreciate a picture of your face because I think you’re you’re cute and wow I’m rambling over text which is super embarrassing so I’m going to stop typing now byeeeee

This time, Amira is the one screaming.

“It’s official. You scared her away.” Taehyung claps Jimin on the back from his spot behind him in the van. Jimin continues to stare dejectedly at the stagnant conversation with his mystery woman. It’s been hours since he’d went out on a limb and asked her for a picture with not even a hint of a response. He’d originally thought that he’d eventually get over it and go back to normal but now he’s not so sure.

“Leave him be, Tae.” Namjoon pipes up from Jimin’s left. “It’s important to fully feel and process your emotions no matter how depressing they are.”

“Oh, so now the wannabe philosopher is going to preach to me?”

“It was probably too good to be true any-she texted me back!”

[Coffee Almost Bae]: I’m so sorry 😭

[Coffee Almost Bae]: In the interest of total transparency I had a meltdown because you called me cute and I’ve spent the last fourteen hours trying to psych myself up to respond

Jimin nearly melts into puddle of feelings right where he sits. This girl is entirely too cute for her own good and she doesn’t even realize it. His fingers start flying in response, but his frantic typing is interrupted by another message.

[Coffee Almost Bae]: I believe you asked for this {image attached}

He’d thought that Amira was cute when he’d first met her at the coffee shop but seeing her in this picture is making his heart race. She’s clearly at dinner with friends judging from the crowded table full of food behind her. He’s incredibly appreciative of the way her jeans snugly hug the hourglass frame that her work uniform hides. His eyes are then drawn upwards to her face and he finds himself getting lost in the sheer brilliance of her smile. Eyes bright with a playful energy. Jimin is sure he’s never seen anyone more captivating.

“Yeah I’m definitely in love.” He proudly shows off Amira’s picture to the rest of the group, relishing in the comments about how pretty she are. Jimin chooses to ignore Yoongi’s comment about how he wasn’t sure that she actually existed until he saw the picture. His heart flutters in his chest as he stares fondly at the picture on his screen. He’s so caught up in her beauty that he forgets that you have to actually reply to the text messages in order to keep a conversation going. Until his phone vibrates in his hand.

[Coffee Almost Bae]: OH MY GOD YOU THINK I’M UGLY DON’T YOU I KNEW THIS WAS A MISTAKE I HATE IT HERE

Jimin’s eyes go wide as he realizes the unforeseen consequence that his awestruck staring has resulted in. The concerned questions from the other members roll off his back as he tries to fix the mess he made. The two extra concert tickets that he’d been holding for two of his friends suddenly come to mind. Frustrated with the way he keeps misspelling words in his haste, Jimin throws caution to the wind and hits the call button. He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate to fix this, especially since he just met this girl less than forty eight hours ago but he can’t deny the nerves coursing through him as he waits for Amira to answer the phone.

“Cameren, he thinks I’m ugly. I just know he does.” Amira whines and it’s nearly Cameren’s breaking point. She sighs frustratedly over the phone as she does her best not to yell at Amira for overthinking and sending herself into a panic.

“This man saw you in an unforgiving barista uniform, bare-faced, at three in the morning and still somehow thought you were cute.” Cameren can hear Amira inhale to interrupt her but she powers through, giving her no option but to listen. “If he saw you looking like that then there’s now way he thought the picture you sent him was ugly so stop overreacting. He’s a fucking international superstar someone probably stopped him for an autograph or something. Or maybe he thinks you’re insane for losing your shit because he took more than five minutes to respond.”

On a more rational level, Amira knows that Cameren is right, but it’s not every day that a girl actually gets to live out their fantasy like this. So naturally, she’s insecure and full of nervous energy that is near impossible to get rid of. What if his sleep deprivation made him delirious? What if fully awake Jimin thinks he made a mistake? Cameren is still ranting when Amira’s phone beeps with another phone call. She pull the device away from her ear to see who it is and nearly choke on her own spit.

“He’s calling me! I gotta go.” She ends the call with Cameren and answer Jimin’s before her overactive nerves can convince her not to. The second Amira accepts the call, all that can be heard is Jimin apologizing profusely. Somewhere in there he mentions something about concert tickets and soundcheck and her brain decides to finally kick in to get some clarification.

When he finally starts speaking slow enough for her to understand him, Amira is stunned even further into silence. Front row tickets to their next concert with a primo soundcheck position? Yeah, there’s no way she could pass that up, but there is one issue. Their next concert is in Toronto. As if he can sense what she’s thinking, Jimin immediately offers to fly Amira and whoever she wants to bring with her to Toronto. The sound of raucous laughter in the background drowns out his next sentence, so she can only assume the rest of the group is giving him shit for that.

“I can’t let you do that, Jimin.” Amira already knows that Cameren is going to kill her for this when she fills her in later, but she doesn’t want him to feel like she’s using him for free stuff. He tries his absolute best to change her mind but Amira doesn’t let up.

“At least promise me that last night won’t be the last time I see you.”

“I promise. Now go to sleep before I tell army you’re neglecting yourself because I can hear the exhaustion all in your voice.” Jimin laughs at her playful threat which makes her heart swell with pride at being the one to make him laugh like that. After being a fan for so long, Amira can perfectly picture the adorable way his eyes have probably scrunched closed as he laughs with his whole body. The reluctantly bid each other goodbye after Jimin makes her promise once more that they’ll meet again.

Months have passed since the day Jimin turned Amira’s life into a wattpad fanfiction and since then life has changed in numerous ways for both of them. Amira has gotten a new job. A new dog. A new house. Meanwhile, BTS has hopped from country to country playing to sold out stadiums. Broken fistfuls of records that established western acts admittedly balk at. And yet, despite all these changes, Jimin and Amira’s presence in each other’s lives has remained constant. Whether it be a funny meme he saw online, a FaceTime call at an indecent hour because time zones are weird, or even a postcard from whatever part of the globe BTS has ended up in. Despite their best efforts though, their late night conversation over coffee did not get the follow up that they’d promised to have.

Amira is on her way back to work after meeting up with Cameren for lunch when she gets a text from Jimin. It’s a picture of what looks like a schedule for the upcoming month and it looks pretty empty save for a flight to LA on the fifth. The image is accompanied with several eye emojis and Amira connects the dots immediately. The second she returns to the office, she submits a request for two weeks of leave time. After snapping a picture of her screen, her fingers fly across the screen with a quick message to Jimin.

Amira hasn’t seen Jimin in person since that night at the coffee shop and that thought keeps her up at night as the days fly by. No matter how much careful planning they put in to try and see each other something always seemed to come up and foil whatever plans the two of them had concocted, but this time feels different. Like everything might actually fall perfectly into place. That brings up the question about how Amira is going to handle being face to face with Jimin again. All of his flirting and little pet names have been hard to handle over text but to be in the same room with him and keep her cool is going to be a new kind of challenge. He’s been very direct about what his feelings are and though she feels the same, Amira has been hesitant to reciprocate his romantic sentiments in fear that what she feels is rooted in her love for BTS as a fan. Cameren has been Amira’s saving grace with her pep talks but nothing could ever truly prepare her for the force of nature that is Park Jimin spending two uninterrupted weeks in her house.

Jimin arrives in a whirlwind of designer luggage that he quickly tosses aside in favor of peppering kisses all over Amira’s face while she playfully attempts to fight him off. Her terrier Luna runs circles around the both of them in a frenzy at having a new friend to play with her. Amira’s heart is beating erratically in her chest as Jimin switches tactics, choosing to simply hold her close to him.

“Hello to you too, Ji-” His lips pressing against her own stops Amira’s sentence in its tracks.

She’s always admired how soft his lips looked but to find out just how soft they actually are sends a rush of endorphins coursing through her. All of the qualms she’d had about falling for him melt away like ice cream in the summer sun. Her insecurities suddenly seem so significant as his lips mold against her own like they were meant to be there. A deep groan rattles Jimin’s chest when she gets over her initial shock and reciprocates. He tastes of strawberries and the faintest hint of mint when he explores her mouth with his expert tongue. Amira decides then and there that she would gladly die of suffocation if it meant she could kiss Jimin till she croaked.

They could’ve remained locked together for an indefinite amount of time if not for Luna tugging on Jimin’s pant leg with her teeth, demanding her fair share of his attention. He doesn’t hesitate to scoop the energetic fur ball into his arms, scratching behind one of her ears as Luna practically vibrates in his arms.

“I think this is the part where I tell you I’m in love with you and want to be your boyfriend.” He lifts Luna next to his face and Amira knows she’s in trouble. “Don’t you want to wake up to us every morning? At least for the next two weeks?”

“Kiss me again and you’ve got a deal, boyfriend.”

#bts writers guild #park jimin #jimin fluff #jimin fanfiction #jimin scenario #bts #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #jimin x oc #jimin x poc oc #writing fluff is hard as hell #had to stop myself from making somebody whip out a tiddy #if this is trash mickey did it

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goldietm · 4 years

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* ╰ new york’s very own 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚 ‘ 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞 ‘ 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐱 was spotted on broadway street in louboutin carnababy ankle boots . your resemblance to 𝒛𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒂 is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty - third birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being 𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆 , but also 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 . i guess being a virgo explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 , 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒄 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 - 𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃 , 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 . ( my ex - fiance was a pr stunt set up by our manager. i’m not sure they knew that until i inadvertently cheated on them . ) & ( cis female & she / her )

tw : homophobia , biphobia , suicide mention , emotional abuse .

 𝒊 . 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔 .

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 : georgia cheyanne hendrix 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 : goldie , golds . georgie , gigi , g . 𝒂𝒈𝒆 : twenty - three 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄 : virgo 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : former beauty pageant competitor and 2016’s miss teen usa , 2017′s miss new york , 2018′s miss usa , current film and television actress , model , business entrepreneur , philanthropist , and activist . 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 : her mother’s political career , starring in hbo’s television series euphoria , being the first openly queer representative for the usa in the pageant circuit , her advocacy for feminism and criminal justice reform , a bustling social media page , being one of forbes 2019′s top 30 under 30 . 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚 / 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒔 : cis female / she her hers 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : bisexual , biromantic 𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 : 5’9 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔 : meredith grey & cristina yang from grey’s anatomy , spencer hastings from pretty little liars , hermione granger from harry potter , meghan markle , angela martin from the office , alex cabot from law and order svu , and more than anything , claire from fleabag . 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐮 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 , 𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐱’𝐬 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 7 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬 . 𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔 : - acquiescent , cold , emotionally distant , obsessive , control - freak + intelligent , astute , focused , protective , passionate 𝒉𝒐𝒈𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 : toss up between slytherin and ravenclaw ! 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔 : 𝐭𝐢𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 - 𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑡 . 𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑛𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑦 / 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 - 𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ 𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑙 / 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 - 𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑖 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑥 / 𝐂𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐃𝐄 - 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑟 / 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 - 𝑆𝑍𝐴 / 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨 - 𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑡 / 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐱 - 𝑓𝑙𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖 / 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐟 - 𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑜𝑛 / 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐧-𝐥𝐢 - 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑖 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑗 / 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 - 𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ 𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑙 / 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐞 - 𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑦 / 𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 - 𝑠𝑎𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑒 / 𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐰𝐧 - 𝑘𝑜𝑡𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 / 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 - 𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑡 𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 : an intellect that remembers everything ; wild caramel curls with just enough composure to seem effortless ; a fear of failure more crippling than life itself ; the smell of fresh linen and lavender ; a color - coded itinerary ; a perfectly choreographed interaction , each time ; lilac power - suits and an immaculate composure ; unspoken mommy issues ; tenebrous , intent gazes swimming with the resonance of unspoken thoughts ; ‘ don’t touch me please ‘ syndrome ; kicking out hookups before you both fall asleep ; ordering the same thing at a restaurant , every time ; flinching at ‘ i love you’s ’ ; drafting business emails at the club ; an admiration of atlas , with the world’s weight upon your shoulders .

𝒊𝒊 . 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 .

though goldie should be proud to carry the hendrix name ( a prominent black woman in politics as a mother and a fortune 500 ceo father ) , the odds have been against the hendrix progeny since they come into the world . despite her mother being a female senator , she’s a infamously staunch conservative with rather regressive opinions . her father ? none the better , driven by greed and the illusion of power .

georgia emerges first into the world with kalani following soon after , a dynamic they hold onto for the rest of their lives . their brother michael follows a few years later , completing the illusion of the perfect american family . goldie , as she is quickly known as , is a perfectionist by heart , a trait that is only further emphasized by a cold , disconnected mother who only truly acknowledges her when it’s following an accolade . lani never seemed bothered and would find solace in mikey — goldie , on the other hand , took her mother’s emotional distance more personally than anything in her life , past or future .

her mother , a former pageant star herself , is elated to hear goldie’s interest in starting in the circuit in middle school , launching a career for herself in the new york pageant scene . this perfectionist mentality lends itself easily to her competitions , and the naturally competitive girl takes the pageant world by storm . she pushes herself to her peak through new york’s elite prep schools , scoring top marks and heading countless clubs to pad an otherwise still impressive resume . she’s making waves in every circle she enters , preparing a valedictorian speech and touting early acceptance into princeton when her world flips on its head .

mikey , vibrant and beautiful , everything goldie did not see herself as , comes out as gay to their family , and following the heinous response of their parents and the mounting pressures to keep up appearances , takes his own life during the twins’ senior year . goldie’s life is shattered , and her family falls apart quickly after , with lani’s outburst of her own coming out and reprimanding their parents for their part in mikey’s passing being the final tear of the hendrix tapestry . goldie , harboring a budding sentiment of bisexuality all her own , sees the effect the dual coming’s - out have on their family and can’t bring herself to rock the boat a third time , doing what she does best and keeping her mouth shut for appearances .

while lani makes a name for herself protesting and doing her activism , goldie continues to dominate pageantry , quickly snatching up titles of miss teen usa , miss new york , and going on to set her sights on 2018′s miss america . during the question and answer portion , when she’s asked about the mental health crisis in her home state of new york , her mind drifts from her prepared statement and instead pivots to a cause near and dear to her heart , the lgbtq+ mental health crisis . her life changes with one simple slip of the tongue on live national television .

“ as a bisexual woman myself , i believe — ”

though entirely unintentional , the moment liberates her and thrusts her forward into the life she now has , a name made for herself , by herself . despite the collective shock of her unexpected coming out on national tv , she is enthusiastically crowned miss america much to her own surprise , though her actions are not without consequence . fuming at the perceived treachery of the child that was supposed to be ‘ the good one , ’ senator hendrix pulls some strings to get goldie kicked from the pageantry world , but it comes as a blessing in disguise .

goldie changes her major at princeton to public policy , and once she leaves the pageant world , she’s flooded with offers for modeling campaigns and sponsorship deals . she becomes one of the most noted humanitarian activists of her generation , fighting for women’s rights , mental health advocacy , and criminal justice reform . while lani takes to the streets , goldie takes to the stands , giving speeches and meeting with policy makers as she begins to dive into the world of entrepreneurship . the twins start a foundation for lgbtq+ people they name the mikey hendrix foundation in honor of their younger brother , and are in constant tabloid stories due to their speaking out against their parents . goldie makes an easy transition from paper to stage , and finds a blooming acting career that serves as an even greater platform for her to speak out about the causes nearest to her .

𝒊𝒊𝒊 . 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

perhaps goldie’s most notable quality is being driven by an unyielding fear of failure and mediocrity . there is no task small enough that goldie will not accomplish to the best of her execution , and if she can’t ensure perfection , she will refuse to give it an attempt at all . this all or nothing attitude stems from an obscene obsession with control and remaining in control , something those around her are all too aware of .

despite a rather charming and gregarious disposition on the red carpet , many will note that goldie is incredibly reserved when meeting her in real life . the pageantry training has kicked in to give her a facade to push when she’s in the spotlight , though her true disposition is much less play and much more work . she’s stoic and serious , knowing just what to say at what time to continue the narrative that she is completely in control . cool and calculated , her affect is usually stern and unwilling to reflect any sentiment of softness or goofiness — many business associates note her absolute maturity and rationality even at the tender age of 23 . her energy , as subdued as it may be , commands the room with a power of self-assuredness that only stems from a confidence rooted in something to back it up . she’s an elderly woman in a millennial’s body , and this tends to show in her dry wit humor , relative moodiness , and general propensity for wanting things done exclusively her way .

goldie’s intellect has always been a strong suit of hers , a photographic memory that allowed her to glide through school with the least of struggles . astute and well - spoken , monotone and unlikely to crack in her stony temperament , she’s a force of nature to be well reckoned with . luckily , goldie shows little to no interest in engaging with petty drama and tends to keep in her own lane , losing interest nearly immediately in the mindless pettiness some of her friends wrap themselves up in . rational , arguably to a fault , goldie has a bad habit of censoring herself and limiting her own commentary when in the company of anyone she needs to maintain her reputation with ; close friends , on the other hand , will easily characterize her as blunt and straightforward , almost too aggressive with her honesty for her own good . though she’d rarely voice it , she has an undeniable superiority complex stemming from a recognition that whatever she does , she’s incredibly good at ( ignoring her unwillingness to step out and try anything outside her comfort zone . )

this is the curious dichotomy of georgia hendrix , considering one of her most notable flaws is her unwillingness to invest . despite being perhaps overly honest , the moment a conversation ( or relationship ) runs the risk of becoming too emotionally risky , she shuts down . flames have been ghosted , relationships have been ended , and friendships have been cut off simply because goldie deemed them to be a danger to her mission of remaining in complete control of herself and her life . the select few that have plowed through goldie’s rather prickly initial interactions have earned themselves a friend forged from gold , loyal to a fault and ready to drop anything at a wind’s blow to aide those she loves most . defensive and ornery , the pageant girl facade soon blows over to reveal an anal retentive , emotionally stunted grandmother who loses her lid over the most minute of inconveniences if they step out of her pre - established plans and routines .

hiding beneath her layers of fake smiling at redundant questions , unapproachable hostility and being an otherwise unmeltable ice queen , goldie harbors a deep intensity that overcomes her when allowed to reign ( and very rarely is allowed to reign ) . she does not invest in small doses and despite the relative unlikelihood of her allowing a distraction such as a relationship , the few she’s had have been intense whirlwinds led by goldie’s own inability to limit herself — she’s all , or she’s nothing , but nowhere in the middle .

#wealthy:intro #* ╰ . 𝒈 . 𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒙 . › intro .#WE OUT HEA !

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the-badger-mole · 5 years

Text

Face in the Crowd

He hadn’t expected to be struck by inspiration so soon after his last project. She had no idea she had caught his attention. It wasn't unusual. Most people overlooked him, even the ones who spoke to him. He liked to think he was invisible. He wasn't, of course. Just careful. Especially with women. Women spooked more easily than men, he had learned. It didn't take much for them to put their guard up. So he kept his distance until he was ready.

There was a process to his art. First he found his muse. He had found had served him his coffee at a random diner. She had caught his eye immediately. She had the most beautiful velvety umber skin he had ever seen, and eyes that rivaled the blue of the tropical oceans. How could any artist look past her? He surely couldn't.

The next step was to find out as much as he could about her. This part was easier than normal. She told him her name when she took his order. He had repeated it, tasting it like a new wine. She noted that she hadn't seen him around before, and he told her that he was just passing through on the way to nowhere in particular. When she asked for his name, he made one up. When she asked him about his work, he told her her was an artist. He turned the conversation to her.

She was a graduate student at the University of Republic City. She had an apartment with her brother- an engineer who would be out of the country for the next few months. She didn't realize that she had given him all of that information, of course. It was amazing how much people let slip in a casual conversation. You just have to know how to listen. And he had spent years learning how to listen.

After her shift ended, he followed her home. This part was easy. She hailed a cab, instead of waiting at the lonely bus stop in the dark. Neither she nor the cab driver saw him following. Even if she had turned around, it was too dark to see inside his car. When the cab pulled up outside of a nice townhouse he kept going, pulling into a parking spot a block away. The cab was gone when he doubled back on foot, and she had gone inside one of the houses, but he had gathered enough information on his newest project. Soon, he’d be ready to add her to his collection. He gazed up at the house he thought she had entered. The game had begun.

-------

Detective Zuko Kaji knew something had happened the moment he stepped into the precinct. There was no obvious change. Everyone was where they were supposed to be- working at their desks or chatting by the coffee pot or running back and forth from the records room. Then he noticed how quiet everyone was. The conversations were unusually muted, the way they tend to be whenever there's a particularly juicy piece of gossip Eyes kept drifting towards the chief’s door. Zuko frowned. That door was hardly ever closed. The secretary noticed him and picked up the phone. A moment later she beckoned him over.

“The chief wants to see you,” Biyu told him. Her eyes were wide, and her voice low.

“Can it wait until I’ve gotten in the door?” Biyu shook her head.

“It’s serious,” she told him. “He’s expecting you.” Zuko sighed and made for the closed door.

“He could at least let me grab some coffee first,” he grumbled before he went to see what his uncle wanted.

Iroh Kaji had implemented an open door policy when he became chief of police nearly fifteen years ago. He said he wanted all officers and detectives to feel welcomed to speak with him anytime. Since then, the door was rarely ever shut. When it was, it meant something serious had happened. The look on Iroh’s face when Zuko walked in confirmed that it was something awful.

“You wanted to see me chief?” Iroh nodded towards the door.

“Please leave it shut,” he said. “What I have to say is going to get out eventually, but I wanted to speak to you first.” Zuko closed the door and sat down across from him.

“What’s wrong, Uncle?” he asked. He prepared himself for terrible news. Was his father back? Had his sister found some new exciting form of trouble to get herself into?

“Koh is back,” Iroh told him plainly. Zuko blinked.

“How...how do you know? It’s been fifteen years. Why would he start again now?” Iroh sighed and ran his hands over his face. He suddenly looked every one of his fifty-one years and then some.

“His latest victim was found early this morning,” Iroh said. “We haven’t identified him yet, but the MO is the same. The body was ritualistically disposed by the river. He was naked and no personal belongings were found nearby, but there were no signs of sexual assault. And of course…”

“No face?” Zuko guessed grimly. Iroh grimaced and nodded.

“Surgically removed, just like the others.” A loud bang out on the street made both men jump. Iroh glanced over his shoulder out of the window and saw a beat up tan car stalled in the middle of the street. Smoke poured from beneath the hood. Iroh shook his head sympathetically, but there was nothing he could do about it just then. He turned back to his nephew. Zuko leaned forward on his elbows and tapped his knuckles against his teeth.

“What are our next steps?”

“We’ll need to identify the victim of course,” Iroh said. “I’ll have an officer look through missing recent missing persons. If Koh stays true to his MO, he will have had the poor man captive for at least a week, so we’ll have to begin there and adjust our search as necessary. We must also start a task force, which I’d like for you to head up.” Zuko’s good eye widened.

“Me?” he asked. “I just made detective two months ago. You want me to head up something this big?” Iroh nodded. He looked grave.

“I trust you with this.” Iroh steepled his fingers and rested his forehead against them. “You know better than most on the force what Koh is capable of. The men and women who helped me the first time around are almost all gone. The ones still around are-understandably- not anxious to make this their last case before retirement.”

Zuko sat up straight and met his uncle’s eye. He knew that Iroh knew he was going to accept, still, he needed to ask-

“Have you considered that this might be seen as favoritism?” To Zuko’s surprise, Iroh chuckled.

“No one who has ever seen you work would ever doubt that anything but your talent made me choose you,” he said. “I will, of course, be here to advise should you need me.” Zuko nodded.

“Alright, Chief,” he said. He rose to his feet and stuck his hand out to Iroh. “I accept.”

From there, things moved quickly. Iroh called a department-wide conference and made the announcement that the oldest among them dreaded. The task force was assembled, and despite Zuko’s caution, no one had any objections to his being named head detective on this case. Soon, a board had been started, with all of the information of the latest case at the top of the board and a timeline of the nearly two decade old cold-cases falling in line beneath. The total came to eleven victims altogether.

“This guy is sick,” a rookie beat cop named Lee said with a low whistle.Zuko grunted in agreement.

“Very sick.” Lee leaned in towards Zuko and lowered his voice conspiratorially.

“Is it true that your uncle was the lead on this case the first time around?” Zuko’s mouth twisted into a parody of a smile.

“He co-lead,” he corrected. Zuko had been around eleven at the time of the first murder, and thirteen when Iroh had been added to the first task force. Zuko had in almost grown up with the case, especially once he had moved in with Iroh.

“Where do we even, begin?” Lee asked. He looked over the board full of victims. All but the first had pictures with their faces next to the crime scene photos of their corpses. Lee focused his gaze on these, but Zuko reached up and tapped the picture of the latest victim.

“We find out who he is. Give him his face back.” Lee nodded solemnly. “Then we make sure that this really is Koh.”

“How?” Lee asked. Zuko wanted to roll his eyes, but he reminded himself that Lee was very new, and he needed to be patient. Instead, Zuko gestured towards the board.

“Koh has never left behind a usable piece of evidence,” he explained, “but he leaves his signature at every crime.” Zuko ran his hand lightly across the evidence board, and his finger landed on a copy of a note. “He begins by stalking his victims. His first contact is usually a poem or a letter left for the victim, but we believe he stalks them for some time. Probably a few weeks, to learn their schedules. Then, he kidnaps them.”

“And then he kills them and cuts their faces off?” Lee looked at Zuko in horrified awe.

“No,” Zuko said. “He keeps them for a few days. No one is sure why. There’s never any evidence of sexual assault, and they victims are usually in good condition. Well fed; clean; otherwise unharmed except, well…” Zuko motioned towards the faceless corpses. Lee shuddered.

“How does he kill them then?” Zuko’s brow furrowed at that.

“Most of them were strangled,” he replied. “A few of them died of shock.” Lee gasped.

“You mean, they’re a-alive when he....”

“Yes,” Zuko confirmed with a sharp nod. “We believe he works in the medical field. All of his victims had traces of succinylcholine in their systems. It’s an anesthetic that paralyzes you, but keeps you awake.” Lee swallowed hard, and the blood drained from his face.

“Awake....?” Zuko nodded.

“Awake.” Lee turned back to the board. He swallowed again against the bile rising in his throat.

“That’s horrible.” Zuko grunted his agreement.

“Which is why we need to catch this guy. Fast.” Another officer poked her head in just then.

“Detective Kaji,” she greeted formally with a slight bow. “The Chief wants you in the interview room. It’s...um...urgent.”

“I’m on my way,” Zuko said. He lifted his chin towards Lee and went to his uncle. As he had been told, he was in the interview room. He wasn’t alone.

There was a young woman sitting across from him. Zuko paused for a moment at the door.

“You wanted to see me?” Zuko inclined his head slightly to his uncle, not acknowledging their guest yet. Iroh righted that immediately.

“This is Katara Imiq,” he said. “I’m afraid she has a very serious problem.”

#Zutara #atla #katara #zuko #cop au #zutara fanfiction #chapter one #since this prompt didn't make it to #zutaramonth #i'mma do it anyway

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vortexofentertainment · 6 years

Text

The Few Things - Chapter 5

Of course, I do not own Pitch Perfect or the shower scene or anything like that. I hope you guys enjoy! xoxo

The walk back down the trail and the ride to the apartment were quiet. Chloe could tell something was going on with Beca, but she wasn’t about to pressure the brunette. She didn’t know Beca all that well yet, but she knew that was a bad idea.

They reached Beca’s apartment, empty this time, and Chloe stopped at the door.

“What are you doing?” Beca asked once she noticed Chloe hadn’t followed her in.

Chloe studied her for a second, wondering if she should say what was really on her mind.

“I feel like maybe I should go,” Chloe blurted out before she could come up with anything else. Honesty was always her best policy.

Two things happened to Beca’s face. A wave of relief washed over it, and then she looked hurt. Chloe couldn’t figure out which she should focus on more.

“Um,” Beca looked down at her hands where she was twisting a ring around her middle finger. Chloe had noticed her doing it a lot lately. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick. You shouldn’t feel…” she trailed off, and then inhaled sharply. “I want you to stay.” She looked as if it was something she was forcing herself to say. Chloe wasn’t sure whether or not she believed it.

“Are you sure?” Chloe asked. She really tried to read Beca’s face. She was usually pretty good at picking up on someone’s social cues, but Beca was still a bit of a mystery to her. Her eyes were looking anywhere but at Chloe. Her eyebrows were pulled together. Her mouth was slightly open as she continued to think.

“Yeah, I was just…” Beca stopped again and took another deep breath.

Chloe noted that she was trying to get something out that was difficult to say. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She thought they had such a good day and such good moments. What had changed?

“Um, do you want to go ahead and take your shower? The bathroom is right down the hall.”

“Why don’t you go ahead? I have to run back down to the car and get my clothes,” Chloe nodded. It was clear Beca wasn’t going to say what she was truly thinking.

Beca gave her a tight smile and then disappeared into the bathroom. Chloe stood there, looking at the closed door with her mind racing. She was stumped, which was odd. She was usually so good at decoding a situation and fixing it.

The sound of the water turning on snapped her out of her daze and had her slowly moving towards the door.

She went quickly down the steps and to her car, grabbing the clothes she had brought to change into. Once she was back, she stopped short in the living room when she heard singing. Beautiful singing.

She slowly made her way towards the bathroom where the melody was coming from. It was obviously Beca, and Chloe was stunned because she distinctly remembers the brunette telling her that she didn’t sing. It was a “hard no” to be exact.

Chloe gently turned the handle to the bathroom door, surprised that it was unlocked, and pushed it open. She just needed to listen. Beca had the most wonderful voice she had ever heard. Chloe could never resist a beautiful voice.

She was singing Titanium, which shocked Chloe a little more. It wasn’t exactly a song she expected Beca to know or like. Considering it was Chloe’s lady jam, she felt kind of emotionally attached to the song (and physically attached for that matter).

Before she knew what she was doing, Chloe had a firm grip on the shower curtain and was pulling it back, revealing a very naked, and very wet, Beca.

“You can sing!” Chloe said excitedly.

“DUDE!” Beca yelled and grabbed the curtain to close it again.

“You were singing Titanium, right?” Chloe asked, opening the curtain again.

Beca turned her back to Chloe quickly, giving Chloe a good view of a couple of her tattoos. Chloe thought the equalizer bars midway down her back were fitting but made a mental note to ask about the others.

“You know David Guetta?” Beca asked, looking over her shoulder at Chloe.

“Have I been living under a rock? Yeah. That song is my jam,” Chloe told her.

“My lady jam,” she added, leaning forward a tad.

“That’s nice,” Beca exhaled quietly.

“It is. The song really builds,” she said with a wink.

“Gross,” Beca mumbled and pressed her forehead against the cool wall of the shower.

“Can you sing it for me?

“Dude, no. Get out!”

“Not for that reason! I’m not leaving here until you sing, so…”

Chloe rested her hands on her hips and watched as Beca thought through her options. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this, why she was being so invasive with a girl she knew would not respond well. But, Beca hadn’t actually kicked her out yet, and she looked as if she was starting to actually consider doing what Chloe asked. Something in her gut was telling her to do this, and Chloe usually liked to listen to her gut when her heart didn’t get in the way.

Chloe took a deep breath and exhaled with a small noise. Beca’s lips were pressed into a thin line as she started to turn around, arms tucked around her breasts holding her washcloth and sponge tightly. She was looking down to the floor and then up at the ceiling. Then, she started to sing.

“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose,”

“Fire away, fire away,” Chloe joined.

The tightness in Chloe’s chest as the two of them sang together swelled so much it was almost unbearable. She had a tendency to fall for people a little quickly. Just one of the many burdens of being so open to feelings in the first place. But Beca… Beca was different. She had a hold on Chloe from the first night they met, instead of it loosening as all the others did as Chloe got to know them (realizing that it wasn’t actually love, but just the excitement of having someone new in her life) Beca’s grip on her was tightening.

Once they finished, Chloe was beaming. Beca was relaxed, her mouth fixed in a small smile as she stared deeply into Chloe’s eyes, arms hanging loosely beside her body. But then she was looking up at the ceiling, sucking both lips in between her teeth as she shifted the weight on her feet and wrapped her arms back around her chest.

Chloe finally realized that Beca was still naked. Not that she ever really forgot, but she had been so caught up in the song that she kind of stopped noticing anything but the sound of Beca’s voice and the way she was looking at her.

“Oh,” Chloe said, turning to look behind her. She grabbed a robe that was hanging on the wall hook and handed it back to Beca with a smile.

“I…” Beca said quietly. “I still have to shower.”

Chloe looked at her for maybe a beat too long before she finally came to her senses and walked out of the bathroom.

Chloe sat at the bar as Stacie and Beca discussed something to do with Emily. Apparently, she had gone to a weird sushi place down the street from Benji’s apartment (one that both Stacie and Beca warned her not to) and now they both had food poisoning.

“She’s been texting me nonstop talking about how she feels like death and will never eat sushi again,” Stacie said to Beca, who rolled her eyes in return. “You have no room to talk,” Stacie slightly chuckled.

“Shut up, dude,” Beca hissed, cutting her eyes towards Chloe who was now interested in their conversation.

“Beca is as bad as a man when it comes to being sick,” Stacie told Chloe in a low voice as if she was trying to keep Beca’s secret. “Last year when she got the flu, she was the worst.”

Chloe grinned and looked over to Beca who’s cheeks flushed red. She was looking very attractive in her black dress shorts and black top. Her cheetah print heels were a little surprising to Chloe, but she liked them no less.

What Chloe liked the most was the contrast she and Beca made to each other. She had dressed in a white off the shoulder dress that fell midthigh and had lace sleeves.

“What?” Beca asked, her lips in a tight smile.

“Nothing,” Chloe grinned. She hadn’t realized she was staring. “Do you want another drink?”

“Um, yeah,” Beca nodded, looking down at her empty glass. “Just a beer though,”

Chloe nodded as she got up from the table, kind of forgetting to ask Stacie if she wanted a refill. She walked over to the bar, placing the order to the very nice bartender that she thought had his eye on her. Every time she walked up he was immediately there, which was weird considering the number of people waiting to be served.

She looked over her shoulder, back to where the two brunettes were sitting. Beca was leaning towards Stacie, talking about something that looked rather serious. Her eyes were bulging a little as Chloe could tell she was describing something. Stacie, however, was laughing. She was finding whatever Beca was telling her very amusing. Chloe would bet anything that she knew exactly what they were talking about.

After the whole shower debacle, Beca had been a little different. At first, it was awkward. She had come out of the bathroom, the robe wrapped tightly around her petite frame, and keeping her distance from Chloe.

But by the time Chloe had showered, changed, and was getting ready, Beca had relaxed. She was in a relatively good mood from what Chloe could tell. She didn’t understand what caused the complete turnaround, but she wasn’t about to question it. She was just glad she hadn’t tanked the entire friendship before it really even started.

When she made it back to the table, Stacie was gone. Beca informed her that some guy had asked her to dance and that was probably the last time the two would see her that night.

“Do you dance?” Chloe asked, scooting a little closer to Beca in the booth. She told herself it was so that she could hear the brunette better, but she knew that was bullshit. She just wanted to be closer to her.

“Not really,” Beca answered as she took a swig from her beer. “I mean, maybe if I get a little drunker or if the right person asks me…” she trailed off, looking over at Chloe with a small smirk. “But I don’t dance for just anyone.”

“It’s a good thing I ordered a round of shots for us then, huh?” Chloe grinned back as the waiter brought a tray with four shot glasses on it. He placed each individual glass on the table, gave Chloe a beaming smile, and then left.

Beca was watching him closely, Chloe noted. Not looking like she particularly liked the way he was paying special attention to her redheaded companion.

“Bottoms up, grasshopper,” Chloe said nudging Beca’s arm with the tattoo on it. “We’re going dancing!”

Beca shook her head but took the glass anyway and waited for Chloe to pick up her own. The two clinked their poison together then downed the whiskey Chloe had specifically asked for.

“Oh, good god,” Beca choked as the cinnamon fire hit the back of her throat.

Chloe winced a little at the taste, but then picked up the next one. She downed it just as quickly with a stunned Beca watching her.

“You’re going to hurt in the morning, dude.”

“Can’t handle your Fireball?” Chloe asked with an accusing grin.

Beca cocked her head to the side a little, still sporting that smirk that made Chloe all tingly, and narrowed her gaze. Chloe noticed the dark blue eyes flit down to her lips, then up to her hair, and finally back up to meet her icy blues.

“Which Fireball are we talking about?” Beca asked.

Chloe’s heart flipped at the question and her smile grew brighter. Beca was drunk, or at least getting there, and it seemed that she was a bit flirty while under the influence. She had been more relaxed at the bar right after they met, but she never got too drunk. This was a different Beca that Chloe was experiencing, and she loved it.

Beca took the other shot before Chloe could gather her wits enough to answer and downed it. She closed her eyes tightly, still adjusting to the overwhelming taste of cinnamon.

Chloe took this chance to reach over and rest her hand on Beca’s knee, using it as support so she could lean just a tad bit closer.

Beca’s eyes shot open and she looked over at Chloe who was now just mere inches from the brunette’s face.

“Let’s go dance and find out,” Chloe said in a low voice, but loud enough for Beca to hear over the music.

She scooted her way out of the booth, watching Beca the entire time. After chugging the rest of her beer (liquid courage was all she needed), Beca took Chloe’s outstretched hand and followed her to the dance floor.

The music was upbeat, and everyone seemed to be getting closer to each other. Chloe pulled Beca towards her and started to dance. They weren’t quite touching one another, but they were close.

Chloe made sure to take note of Beca’s movements. She was still trying to figure out the brunette, and the way she was stiffly moving about made her think she had pushed a little too hard too soon for this kind of dancing. But then, the music changed and so did Beca.

“We’re going to throw it back with some of these next songs,” the DJ said into the microphone. “I think you guys are going to like it!”

Everyone in the club lit up because Low started to blast through the speakers, and the way Beca threw her head back with a laugh told Chloe she had picked a good time to start dancing.

Beca started to move more freely. Her body loosened up and she was having fun. Chloe was pleasantly surprised by how low Beca could go. Chloe herself was restricted by her dress, but she was enjoying the show.

They were both laughing and singing along loudly when the song changed to Hey Ya and then they were both jumping along.

The way Beca closed her eyes, grin wide and beaming, hair bouncing with each jump, made Chloe want to reach out and grab her. But she didn’t. She focused on her own dancing and matching Beca’s excitement and rhythm.

“OH MY GOD!” Beca screamed when Beyoncé’s Crazy in Love started to blare through the speakers.

Then Beca reached out and grabbed Chloe. She pulled the redhead close, hands on her hips, and started to sway along to the classic.

It was as if their bodies moved perfectly together out of instinct. Chloe was ecstatic. She loved to dance, and as of maybe thirty minutes ago her favorite thing was to dance with Beca. Their hips brushing each other’s sent shock waves through Chloe’s system and she was really hoping she wasn’t the only one feeling the way she was feeling.

When the song ended, the two girls had their bodies pressed together, breathing hard, Beca’s hands still on Chloe’s hips. Chloe could feel her fingers digging into her skin just a bit as if Beca was restraining herself.

The brunette let her forehead rest on Chloe’s, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted. Chloe let her gaze wander back and forth from Beca’s closed eyes to her lips.

“I think I need another drink,” Beca finally spoke, moving back so Chloe was now at arm’s length away.

Chloe was sure that Beca was about to retract, to go back into her little Beca hole and not come out for the rest of the night. But Beca was full of surprises and held tightly onto Chloe’s hand to lead her back to the bar.

“Who follows Beyoncé with Carly Rae Jepson?” Beca asked as she leaned against the bar. Call Me Maybe was now playing and people were still singing loudly and dancing wildly.

“What?” Chloe asked, turning her body to face Beca’s. “You don’t like this song?”

“I mean…” Beca trailed off and shrugged.

Chloe’s mouth popped open as Beca chuckled at her expression.

“Your stare was holding. Ripped jeans, skin was showing. Hot night, wind was blowing. Where you think you’re going baby?” Chloe sang.

“Oh, please don’t!” Beca laughed, clutching her side as Chloe jumped up and down in front of her.

“Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe!” Chloe sang, reaching out and taking Beca’s hands. “It’s hard to look right at you baby, but here’s my number. So, call me maybe!”

“Stop!” Beca laughed as she tried to pull her hands from Chloe, but Chloe didn’t let go and ended up stumbling into Beca.

Beca was pushed up against the bar more, Chloe’s body fully pressed against her front and fingers still intertwined. Chloe held Beca’s eye contact until the brunette’s eyes looked down at her lips again. It was only a split second, but it was there. Chloe had noticed it more than once but couldn’t bring herself to step over that line just yet.

“One beer,” the bartender said while sitting Beca’s drink down a little harder than necessary.

“Thanks,” Beca mumbled, grabbing the drink as Chloe took a step back. She watched as Beca pressed the bottle to her lips and promptly drained half of it.

They stood in silence until Just Dance came on. Chloe’s mouth popped open, again, and her eyes widened.

“Here we go,” Beca chuckled as Chloe reached out, took her hand, and pulled her back to the dance floor.

“I don’t think we should be back here,” Beca whispered as best she could as she leaned heavily on Chloe.

“Shhh,” Chloe shushed, putting her finger over Beca’s lips.

She was very drunk and so was Beca. The drinks were flowing through their system heavily. Beca’s more so than Chloe, but it was Chloe’s idea to sneak into the back of the bar just to “look around”.

“Oh my god, look!” Chloe said in a hushed squeal. She reached out and plucked a rose from a bouquet in the corner. “They’re so pretty!”

“Stopit!” Beca hissed. “They are prolly for someone,”

“Take my picture!” Chloe said, standing up straight (stumbling a bit, but straight nonetheless) with the rose in front of her face.

Beca fumbled with her phone until she finally had her camera pulled up and pointed at Chloe. She snapped the picture, smiling down at her screen.

“How do I l-look?” Chloe slurred as she scurried over to stand beside Beca and look over her shoulder.

“Stunning,” Beca said looking up at the redhead. “You always look stunning.”

Chloe looked at her then. She could smell the alcohol on Beca’s breath and could see the sweat that was just dampening her skin from all the dancing. It took every ounce of sobriety inside of her not to attack Beca’s lips in that moment. She wanted to wait until they were sober, and until she could talk to Beca about some of the things she had said the night they first met.

“I think you should post it on Snapchat,” Chloe said, turning her attention back down to the phone. “Make our friendship official,” she grinned jokingly. She linked her arm through Beca’s and rested her head on her shoulder “Or our whatever official.”

“Our whatever?” Beca asked as she pulled up the app.

“Justpostit,” Chloe giggled and watched as Beca did so.

“Hey!” the bartender’s voice rang out behind them. They both turned around quickly. “You two can’t be back here!”

“Oops, better go,” Beca said. She grabbed Chloe’s hand and pulled her towards a back exit, away from the club.

They were both giggling and trying their best to run with their heels and alcohol-impaired balance. Chloe still had her arm linked with Beca’s once they finally reached the street.

“I’ll get an Uber,” Beca said as she looked down at her phone again. “Wait, what should I say on the snap?” she asked, looking at Chloe again.

“Will you accept my rose?” Chloe asked her with a lopsided grin. Her eyes seemed to be getting heavier and her blinks longer.

Beca looked back down at her screen with a smile, typing ‘I accept’ as the caption and sending it off to her story.

“Now I’ll get an Uber,” she said, and Chloe let her head fall back onto the brunette’s shoulder as they waited.

CONTINUED

#bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca and chloe #pitch perfect #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #The Few Things #Chapter 5 #The Few Things Chapter 5 #TFT5

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bigjohnsadventuresintravel · 5 years

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Our Bicycle Ride Through Amsterdam

To begin, I must confess that the title of this post is a bit misleading. Our bicycle ride through Amsterdam makes up only a very small portion of the photographs you will see below. With 1.3 bicycles per person in Amsterdam, it just seemed easier for Rebecca and I to do most of our exploring on foot. Not only is Amsterdam the capital, it is the most populated city in the Netherlands. Its name derives from Amstelredamme, indicative of the city’s origin around a dam in the river Amstel. Just like Venice, Italy and Bruges, Belgium, Amsterdam is a city of beautiful canals and extraordinary history. I know you’ll experience a desire to visit this city yourself once you view some of our pictures.

Our rental car, a Fiat Panda, fits neatly inside a mini-parking space alongside the canal.

Although driving in Amsterdam was nowhere near as perilous as driving in Rome, I was more than eager to park my rental car and leave it there for the duration of my stay. When driving to our Airbnb, I experienced a very close call when I nearly ran over a bicyclist with my Fiat Panda. I didn’t feel too bad for long though; it wasn’t more than an hour later when a bicyclist nearly ran me over on foot.

The view outside the window of our Airbnb in Amsterdam.

Our little studio apartment was centrally located in the Jordaan neighborhood and was in easy-walking distance to Amsterdam’s most popular sites and attractions.

It appears the owner of our Airbnb rental was a fan of Marilyn Monroe.

Big John walks his bicycle through Amsterdam’s Dam Square towards the Royal Palace.

One of the things many Americans do not know about the Netherlands is that they are a constitutional monarchy, as well as a parliamentary democracy. Resting in the middle of Dam Square sits the Royal Palace, Amsterdam. This beautiful structure is the official reception palace of King Willem-Alexander. The Palace also hosts other royal receptions, such as the annual New Year’s reception, dinners and prize ceremonies. Visitors are allowed to tour the palace during the majority of the year.

Rebecca stops for a break just outside the Voyagers Coffeeshop and Hotel.

In Amsterdam, coffeeshops are alcohol-free (and usually coffee-free) establishments that sell marijuana, hashish, and cannabis for recreational use. Amsterdam has a very liberal soft-drug policy and the city is widely known as the cannabis capital of the world. The are over 170 legally-operated coffeehouses in Amsterdam.

The Basilica of Saint Nicolas in the Old Centre district of Amsterdam

Amsterdam has numerous churches and cathedral for visitors to admire and worship in. The Basilica of Saint Nicholas is located in the Old Centre district of Amsterdam. It is very close to Amsterdam’s main railway station and is the city’s primary Roman Catholic church. The architecture was a spectacular sight to behold.

I told Rebecca that she should safely stay within eyeshot of my bald spot when cycling through the streets of Amsterdam. She informed me that under those guidelines, she could straggle at least two neighborhoods behind me and not lose sight of it.

No matter where you turn in Amsterdam, you’re likely to find more bicycles than people.

Chocolate is just one more reason to love Amsterdam.

Rebecca is hoisting up anchors outside the Teun Hotel Restaurant.

There are some words, regardless of language, that just sound funny. Rebecca was pretty amused with all the signs that read “Boomwortels”. Judging by the picture on the signs, I was pretty clueless that “Boomwortels” was the Dutch word for tree roots. I honestly thought the signs were alerting me to a set of carefully concealed double-speedbumps.

They say a picture adds twenty pounds to your frame. I’ll just blame the other twenty pounds on good ole’ Dutch beer!

The Van Speyk, pictured in the background, is a classic Amsterdam style brasserie that serves traditional French and Dutch cuisine. The building dates back to 1659 and is located in the the old warehouse district, between the Dam square and the Grand Central Station.

They say that the prettiest girls in all of Amsterdam can be found on Prinsengracht Centrum!

I love how she knows to wait for the “walk” light before stepping out into the street. I could learn a lot from this woman!

The Atlas scuplture affixed to the top of the Royal Palace signifies Amsterdam’s place in the world.

The Amsterdam Circle Line offers luxury canal tours at affordable prices.

Tourists stand outside the Anne Frank Home on the Prinsengracht canal.

Anne Frank hid inside a secret upstairs annex of this structure for a period of two years before finally being discovered by Nazis and shipped off to a concentration camp. During her time in the attic, the young girl kept a diary detailing her daily life as she and her family relied on faith, love and hope to keep them alive. Tragically, Anne Frank’s diary would be the only part of her that survived the holocaust. The Nazis were believed to have exterminated approximately 6,000,000 Jews during the duration of World War II.

In memory of Anne Frank (1929-1945)

Rebecca standing outside the door of the Anne Frank House.

Once the swelling went down in her feet, she realized he had bought them a just few sizes too big. She never listens to me!

This is another view of the canal just below our lofty studio apartment.

You can’t be Dutch if you don’t like cheese!

If you’re a bacon-lover like me, make sure you visit the Grillroom Twins in Amsterdam for the best sandwich that money can buy!

My heart flutters like a Dutch windmill every time she comes near (That may not be a good thing. I probably should get that checked out).

The setting sun painted a stunning picture of this Amsterdam canal.

Nightfall on the streets of Amsterdam.

She knows all too well how to work her voodoo magic on me!

Selfies are only good when you have nobody else around to snap the picture… or when you have a pretty girl to male them look a whole lot better!

While exploring the Spuistraat, Centrum district, Big John poses in front of a house built in 1627.

Rebecca needs to quit eyeballing my food and just eat her salad. This small snack has to last me until dinner!

Don’t hate! It’s hard being an international man of mystery without owning a good pair of shades!

Whomever rented this bike before me must’ve been over five feet tall! I had to stop and lower the seat.

I wonder if she knows how madly in love I am with her. Maybe one day I will get the courage to tell her just how I really feel.

She’s into the tough guys, what can I say?

Big John and the empty suit hang out in Marnix Park.

I suddenly just realized that I have the same stance in every picture. Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever really fully extended my left leg…. interesting.

Believe it or not, the waters of Amsterdam are home to an amazing variety of fish. There are perch, bream, pike, carp, eel, rudd, mullet, and their highly-prized zander. I highly doubt that you would need a boat though if you planned on casting into this canal!

I wish my job involved making waffles every day!

The best tulips in Holland can be found throughout the city of Amsterdam.

Rebecca poses in front of the Cafe Hoppe, a charming Dutch pub dating all the way back to 1670.

These are actually popup urinals that come up out of the street. I saw these in use in both the Netherlands and Belgium. Talk about culture shock!

“Excuse me Ma’am, do you know where the weight room is?”

Rebecca outside the Hard Rock Cafe, Amsterdam.

Big John poses in from of the iconic I AM AMSTERDAM sign.

The Rijksmuseum is a Dutch national museum dedicated to extraordinary art and history of Amsterdam.

That is one very large game of chess!

Sitting alone on that bench, feeling like the Netherlands’ version of Forrest Gump.

Amsterdam had several fascinating murals in and around the city, like the one I captured here on the wall of this bank.

She looked so prim and proper riding her bicycle. She’s such a sweetheart!

This is the section of our tour where picture-taking was just a bit too risque! You’ll just have to trust me when I say there’s a lot in the Red Light District that wouldn’t go over well on a family-friendly blog such as this one.

I can’t believe I flew all the way to Amsterdam to buy some assless leather chaps and they were completely sold out… Joking, they had plenty in stock!

My cutie-pie posing in front of Café de Zeevaart, a traditional Dutch Bar situated in the heart of the Red Light District.

The National Monument on Dam Square was erected in 1956 to commemorate the casualties of World War II and other armed conflicts.

You can barely make out Rebecca as she tries to hide from me behind that pole.

Just the sign alone at Coco’s Outback was enough to entice me to enter inside.

Thorbeckeplein square is located right right in the center of Amsterdam and is well known for their diverse eateries and lively nightclubs.

Rebecca pedals her bicycle through a crowded portion of Chinatown, Amsterdam.

I just couldn’t go home home without first getting a picture in front of the Heineken brewing factory.

For me, the greatest thing about travel adventures is experiencing them with the one you love.

Did I mention that I really love a good Dutch cheese?

The Dutch Delicacy takes the grilled-cheese sandwich to a whole new level!

I would travel to the ends of the earth with this girl…. actually, I think I already have!

After spending three fun-filled days in Amsterdam, this beautiful lady and I hit the road and headed out towards the Rhine. We were off to Germany and then to Belgium where more adventure was sure to await us. Life is great when you have the perfect travel companion by your side!

A lone Dutch windmill on the outskirts of Amsterdam

I hope you enjoyed my post and thank you for taking the time to visit bigjohnsadventuresintravel.com. Please feel free to explore the rest of my blog site and leave a comment or two so I know you were here.

Happy travels,

Big John

#Amsterdam #Holland #Netherlands

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mzargentum · 6 years

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The Stormsender’s Daughter | Chapter XII | Third Eye

Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII

Word Count: 5,114

Warnings: None.

A sudden pulse like a solid punch to the chest ferociously yanked Ceres from her meditation.

Taking her breath away, leaving her in a heavy pant.

She clutched her chest in slight fear by the random sensation. Cautiousness and curiosity filled her mind.

She had never felt such a reaction from her daily routine. Especially since her meditation period was meant to keep her emotions at bay. Or risk her Third Eye leveling the entire kingdom.

The stress of a Queen was not like any other.

Once she began to catch her composure, Ceres examined the bruise upon her chest.

Despite the light pain it caused, somehow it was...heartwarming.

What about this particular spot made her feel such a nurturing acceptance toward the impact?

As she scoured her memories to learn what the great Ramuh was trying to tell her, the only one she could pinpoint was one day some years ago...

...a gentle presence gracefully resting upon her breast...

...it was the day she lost...

“Muerlin...!”

It had been 14 years since Willownoire lost its princess...

14 years since she was taken away from the family that loved her dearly.

Those years had not been too kind to the Zephyr’s.

Sure, they were beloved by all who knew them throughout the kingdom, but losing Muerlin caused a strain on the family.

The sorrow within the hearts of Silvanus and Ceres weighed heavy on their 4 remaining children.

Ein, being the eldest Zephyr child, was proper heir to the throne, but declined it at a much younger age. Instead he join the kingdom’s military forced at 17 and at 24 has climbed the ranks to Captain of Willownoire’s Glaive.

He had always been a straight forward and no-nonsense character. Unfortunately his upbringing made it difficult for him to really enjoy his childhood.

He rarely spoke of Muerlin for he was aware of the main purpose he joined the military rankings. Muerlin was the Pythoness and the prophecy state that the Stormsender’s Daughter would succeed the throne.

His job was to make sure his little sister had the support system she needed to do so...whether he was here or not.

He was one of the only two of the Zephyr children that was aware of his potential fate. Yes, the kingdom was prosperous now, but the Zephyr’s had previously concluded that their days of serving Niflheim were over.

...and Ein was prepared to protect his sister’s legacy by whatever meant necessary.

The second eldest Zephyr child, had a different approach...

Gaea had spent most of her adolescence despising her parents for what happened to Muerlin.

She saw them as cowards for letting the Nifs take away their own flesh and blood and seemingly replacing her with two more children.

As she grew, that resentment wained, but forgiveness was a much bigger step.

At 21, forgiveness was knocking upon her door. Though she hated the idea of her parents potentially trying to replace Muerlin, she understood what was at stake during that time.

But she still wasn’t about to sit by and allow her sister to return to a ruined kingdom.

As Ceres grew older, she was less able to keep up with the forests and the gardens.

Gaea gladly took upon the role of Guardian of the Forests. She scours the kingdom watching over the inhabitants of the forests. Keeping the wildlife in good health, the trees, the soil, the rivers.

As the Zephyr almost always on the prowl to better the wilderness, seeing her around House Zephyr was rare. As well as seeing her around the cities at all.

Younger children throughout the kingdom made up rumors of her existence and she became a model of protection in the kingdom.

it was rumored by the children that if you ever saw her, you were immune to daemons.

For the Guardian would always protect you.

This fine morning, Gaea had just finished her first sweep of the east forests and was taking a break perched in a high tree top.

The air was crisp emitting a delicate breeze that very much pleased the young princess’ senses.

Weather in Willownoire was usually nice, but today...it was especially lovely. Gaea didn’t think much of it for a moment until...

...a light growl in the distance interrupted her trance.

She pondered it for a moment for it wasn’t like anything she heard before.

“Wait...no way...”, she lightly exclaimed before bolting in the direction of the growl.

As she approached the sound, she remembered a story she was told as a child...

When Asteria was young, she played with all the creatures of Willownoire. Then one day Ramuh asked her which was her favorite and she said the behemoths.

So Ramuh found the purest, most gorgeous behemoth he could find and gave it to the little girl as a present.

The night she perished, he infused part of his life force into the creature making it immortal and sending it into hibernation in a cave far from the cities...

...and it was only to awaken when the Pythoness returned to the light.

Gaea had never really believed the story as more than an old fairytale, but the more she grew, the more she hoped it were true.

And sure enough...at the far east of the forest...emerging from a monumental cave...the more spectacular behemoth Gaea had ever seen. It towered the size of the average full grown beast. It’s eyes were a crystalline teal...just like Muerlin’s.

“It can’t be....”, Gaea’s shock still overcame her senses as she watched the beautiful creature take its first steps in centuries.

“Wait...”, she paused. “That must mean...”, a sharp gasp escaped her throat as a smile stretched across her face.

She finally had a reason to go home. The wind carrying her at light speed.

As years passed, Silvanus spent most of his time in a constant brooding state. As King, his responsibilities were to his people, but his depression grew and grew.

Ein and Gaea were usually busy and rarely home. Though he had his wife and two youngest, Talon kept mostly to himself and tiny Heira was so oblivious to the chaos within her family that he felt constant guilt when he was near her.

Losing Muerlin did not only plague him to the brink of sickness due to his failure as a father, but showing his family love seemed so fake that he couldn’t bare to look them in their eyes.

A father giving away his little girl is supposed to be a momentous occasion of hope and joy as he gave someone who adored her for everything she is and gave her the best love she could ever feel the keys to his heart.

But this...

He never even got to look her in her eyes for the first time and tell her how much he loved her.

How much she meant to him.

And protect her like a father really should.

How could he prove to her that she was his everything when he gave her absolutely nothing?

Every night he imagined what she could’ve possibly looked like. What color were her eyes?

Were they his lavender hues or Ceres’ celeste?

Did she have Ceres’ full cheeks?

Her crooked grin?

Her quips and quirks?

Who was his little girl now?

At 14, she must know, wherever she is, she doesn’t truly belong...she must know she’s different.

Does she know about him? Her family? Did she hate him...?

So many questions.

So many what ifs unanswered...and as far as it looked for him, they never would.

Until...

“King Silavnus!!!”, a light shrill startled the tortured king, lifting him to his feet.

“What is it?”

“It’s...it’s Lady Ceres”, Yurin, one of the loyal servants of House Zephyr, and personal friend of the queen, panted in-between her words.

“What’s happened?”, Silvanus’ youth beginning to rush back at the worry of his wife.

“She collapsed in the east corridor. She told me to fetch you right away”, the panicked servant explained before Silvanus rushed by at a full sprint, Yurin following behind.

“CERES?!”, the desperate king called out toward his wife before he found her on the floor of her meditation chamber panting and wheezing while holding onto her chest.

Frantic of what could possibly be ailing his wife, rendering her immobile, he hurries to her aid.

However, when he reaches her, he notices that her face is drenched with tears.

“Ceres, what is it? What’s wrong?”, Silvanus takes his wife into his arms. To his surprise, upon lifting her gaze to meet his, he realized...she was smiling?

“What the devil...?”, the stunned king thought out loud.

“I-It’s her...”, the overjoyed queen replied between sobs, “I felt her...”.

“Who?”, Silvanus’ confusion still evident.

“Muerlin”.

At that moment, the king felt his heart stop with one booming beat.

“But...but how is that possible? How could you know?!”, he spouted in disbelief.

“R-Ramuh told me...”, the scatterbrained mother stammered, “I-I don’t know how, but...she’s alive...a-and...she’s coming home. She’s coming home, Silv!!”

Unable to contain her excitement over the matter, she began to shake.

And, honestly, who could blame her? Certainly not Silvanus for he yanked his elated wife into his arms for the most warming embrace, no longer able to hold back the tears that had built in his ever so tormented lavender eyes.

Their daughter was finally returning home.

After a moment...

“My King”, a low firm voice echoed through the meditation chamber catching the attention of the royals and Yurin.

“Sir Jerith”, Yurin gently greeting the elder whom merely glanced at her with a stern eye.

Jerith Atrium was the head councilmen of Willownoire and Silvanus’ merciless, no-nonsense advisor.

“Ah, Jerith”, Silvanus greeted the man catching his composure. “What brings you out of your cave?”, he teased the ever so stoic man.

“Our meeting to discuss new policies on the military academic programs. It was meant to start nearly a half hour ago”, the elder stated, seemingly irritated by their king’s forgetfulness.

“Oh, dear...”, Silvanus sighed. “Is it that time already? It completely slipped my mind”, he cleared his throat as he stood from the floor, assisting his nearly calm wife.

“Um...I shall be up momentari-”.

“THE BEHEMOTH IS AWAKE!!!”, an abrupt shriek filled the room halting the king’s sentence, also startling the grumpy elder.

All eyes were on the panting, virtually exhausted Gaea.

“Lady Gaea?!”, Yurin gasped as she had not seen the princess in multiple weeks.

This was the first time she had graced the palace with her presence by her own will in quite some time.

“What is the meaning of this, Lady Gaea? You are completely covered in sweat”, the elder nagged the young woman.

“What I just said, Jerith”, she retorted. Not having any of the man’s sass. “The behemoth hidden away in the east forest!! It’s awake!!”

“You mean...”, Yurin began in disbelief, “from the stories?”

“Impossible”, Jerith spouted toward the young adult like she was delusional. “That story is only an old folk to pacify children with fears of the dark”, he continued receiving an annoyed glare from Gaea. “Besides, if the behemoth of legend was real, it would only awaken if-”.

“If the it sensed it true owner; the Pythoness. MY sister”, she retorted.

“How are you even certain that you didn’t just see a lowly behemoth prowling about?”, Jerith continued to goad the Guardian. “There is a possibility you were patrolling the forests in the west and didn’t even know it”.

“Oh, just because I’m not an 800 year old asshat with rank prune breath, I can’t tell direction?”, Gaea mocked the elder as she stepped toward him.

“Gaea”, Silvanus called toward his daughter.

“I know what I saw!!”, Gaea spouted toward her father.

“She is right”, Ceres’ soft voice sliced through the tension as she finally recollected herself. All attention now on the queen’s stern gaze.

“Muerlin is alive. She is returning to Willownoire. I received a message from Ramuh himself. She has been sent down the path toward home. Only time will tell when she will arrive at our gates”.

Silence filled the room as the gravity of the realization settled within everyone.

With a shake of his head and light eye roll, Jeirth finally surrendered.

“I will postpone the meeting”, he released in sighed.

That night...

The eldest Zephyrs gathered in the drawing room.

The only light within the room was the subtle glow emitting from the fire place.

The only sound was the crackling of the flames until...

“So”, Ein broke the silence in a hushed tone, “...Tenebrae, huh?”

“Yes”, Ceres confirmed. “That was the direction of her essence resonated from”.

“It’s been 14 years. How was she able to hide out there for so long?”, Gaea curiously asked, starring out the window by her seat to the starlit skies above.

“My guess would be the Nox Flueret’s...”, Ein replied in turning his gaze toward his mother whom emitted a light smile.

“Oh, Sylva...”, Ceres softly chuckled, remembering her dear late friend. “Always full of surprises...”.

“So, what do we do now?”, Gaea turned her gaze toward her family. “Niflheim troops are most likely looking for her. Shouldn’t we find a way to go get her?”

“Unfortunately, we cannot”, Silvanus replied. “It would only threaten her safety more”.

“How? We’d be going to keep her safe from the Nifs. Couldn’t Ein send his men on a retrieval mission or something?”

Silvanus shook his head. “That would only make it worse. The presence of Zephyr’s outside of Willownoire would cause suspicion. Suspicion will cause curiosity. Curiosity brings chaos”.

“But she’s walking from Tenebrae and no one’s even heard a peep”, the Guardian protested still not understanding her father’s point.

“And why do you think that is?”, Ein chimed in. “The Nif’s wouldn’t want anyone else knowing that she’s alive. There would be worldwide panic”, he explained.

“Well, if the Nifs don’t want her being discovered, why would they allow her out of Imperial Territory? They had to know she was there...right?”, Gaea turned toward her mother.

“Not necessarily. Sylva would’ve taken precaution...for Muerlin to not draw attention to herself, she had to have a life outside the palace”, Ceres explained. Plus Niflheim is a large place...as well as Tenebrae...I’m sure the Chancellor kept her mostly a secret from a large portion of his army as well”.

“Precisely”, Silvanus agreed with his wife. “The fewer people that know of your treasure, the less likely you are to lose it”.

The thought of his sister being a trophy in Niflheim’s treasury burned Ein to his core. “Hmph...bastard...”.

“Okay...so they didn’t know she was in Tenebrae”, Gaea shrugged. “Still, it seems weird that she would be able to just walk out like it’s nothing”.

“That is true”, Ceres agreed lifting a pondering finger to her chin.

“Maybe they found out...”, Silvanus thought out loud.

“...hmm...it would make her departure more plausible”, Ein confirmed. “Despite being Imperial Territory, the longer she remained there, her powers would be nulled to a dormant state. Her appearance being all that set her apart from the norm...unfortunately...if her hand had been forced, she may have had no choice”.

“But how?”, Gaea asked. “If her powers were in a dormant state, wouldn’t that mean she couldn’t use them? How could they have found out?”

“Well...”, Ceres began to explain. “Her powers being nulled don’t exactly mean she couldn’t use them. It’s like the Third Eye. My abilities are driven off emotion so it’s imperative that I remain cool and collective at all times. Even if there was an adversary at hand. I meditate daily to keep myself in this state. If not, I risk losing control. The Pythoness’ power ranges at a much larger scale than mine so Muerlin will have a lot more to keep in check. Plus....there is the daemonic essence she harbors from Asteria. This essence is constantly battling her psyche for control. If she isn’t subjected to understanding her abilities, she is more susceptible to lose control...and the consequences could be apocalyptic”.

Understand this, horror filled within Gaea’s heart as she imagined what could’ve possibly happened to her sister. “Do you think...”.

“...it’s possible”, Ceres concluded.

The atmosphere shifted to a more somber state as the family mulled over the potential turmoil that their beloved Muerlin must’ve faced to result in her departure from Tenebrae.

“Not to change the subject, but...”, Ein began as he turned toward his father with a stern eye. “...if we conclude that the Nifs forced Muerlin out of Tenebrae, we must address the possibility that they will proceed to make their way here to find her”.

Silvanus sighed at his son’s remark. Although he did not want to admit it, he was correct. Chancellor Izunia would most likely assume she would be returning to Willownoire and would expand his efforts to retrieve her once again.

The ladies turned their attention toward the king.

“Ein is right...if Muerlin is not apprehended on her journey, the Chancellor will most certainly turn his attention to us to draw her out”.

“So, what do we do?!”, Gaea exclaimed. “We can’t just sit on our hands and wait for him to show up! The citizens; they wouldn’t stand a chance!”

“Gaea is right...”, Ein chimed in. His tone more stern than usual. “Muerlin is top priority, but we cannot allow the Chancellor to lay waste to the entire kingdom”.

Ceres couldn’t help, but smile in pride of her children. “Besides...how is Muerlin to return home if she doesn’t have a home to return to?”

Silvanus couldn’t smile despite the determination of his family.

“Still”, he began. His tone as heavy as his heart. “...determination and courage is one thing...but situations of this caliber often end in sacrifice...”.

Ceres was fully aware of this notion, Silvanus knew, but what about the other two?

Ein and Gaea locked eyes for a moment.

Despite Muerlin’s importance to Willownoire, she wasn’t the only child the king and queen cared for. “

“The weight could be too great...”, Silvanus spoke up against the silence, “...you two may have each other and your younger brother and sister to look out for”.

“They depend on you”, Ceres lightly added.

“So, if it comes down to it-”.

“We will see it this through until the very end”, Ein cut off his father.

“No matter the cost”, Gaea chimed in expressing to the two adults they were not fearful of their fate.

“Ein...Gaea...”, Ceres lightly pleaded toward her children, “this isn’t your burden to bare”.

“Like hell it isn’t!”, Gaea rose from her seat. “Those damned Nifs destroyed our family! Made us resent each other AND ourselves!”

“They need to learn whom they are toying with”, Ein added. “Muerlin is not the only Zephyr they need to worry about...they will pay...whether it’s Muerlin...or us”.

Despite the horror of the situation, Silvanus and Ceres can’t help, but feel an unfathomable warmth and pride for their children’s tenacity.

“Alright...so it’s settled”, Silvanus concluded the meeting. “Gaea, would you mind making sure Talon and...”, a sudden creak from the door behind them hushed the king.

After a moment, the azure gaze of Talon came into view.

The four remained silent upon his entry.

The somberness of his stare broke their hearts.

Did...did he hear the whole conversation?

“Talon?”, Ein broke the silence, shifting the young boy’s gaze to his older brother on the couch. “Is something the matter?”

“...Heira had a nightmare and woke me”, he murmured.

“Oh, dear”, Ceres responded in attempt to sound like her normal cheery, collected self. “Perhaps, you’d like to-”.

“She’s in her room...”, Talon abruptly interrupted his mother before taking his leave.

Ceres returned her gaze to Silvanus in worry. He definitely was listening to them.

“I’ll go check on him”, Gaea volunteered to ease her mother’s mind on the matter disappearing from sight as she ventured through the pitch halls.

Talon’s room was in the south wing of the castle on the second floor.

Although Gaea was rarely home, she knew how much he preferred his privacy for his door was almost always locked.

She hadn’t been inside for about 4 years. She didn’t really know how to approach him anymore, but she was already standing in front of his door so backing out was not an option.

“Here goes nothing”, she sighed before gently knocking upon the door. “Talon?”

No one answered.

“Talon, it’s Gaea...”, she tried again. “Can I come in?”

Silence.

She glanced down toward the door handle, biting her lip anxiously. She had no idea why she was so nervous about this. He was her little brother. This shouldn’t be this stressful. It should literally be cake, but for some reason it wasn’t.

Regardless, it had to be done...so, swallowing up her fear, Gaea turned the knob, gave it a light push and...

“...Talon?”, she whispered into the abyss only welcomed by more silence. “Are you in here?”

Flipping the switch to illuminate his room, it was determined that it was barren.

Her anxious mind had egged her to close the door and wait, but her curiosity drove her mad.

Talon was now 13 years old. Gaea hadn’t really seen him since he was about to turn 10.

Even at that time, he had distanced himself from the rest of his family.

He began to let go of the cheerful, optimistic, goofy child he was in the past and absorbed the darker aspects of what the life as a Zephyr was truly like, but judging by what Gaea saw by entering his room...his love for one thing hadn’t changed...

Muerlin.

His walls were cluttered from the ceiling to the floor of portraits of a girl with teal iris’ and silver hair.

They all had subtle differences like the facial structure, hair length, but they all looked like their parents in some way.

The Guardian was torn between marveling in her brother’s unbelievable talent and mourning for his saddened soul for the longing of their sister.

“What’re you doing?!”, a growl startled the young woman.

She quickly spun around to see her younger brother standing at his door, completely mortified by Gaea’s intrusion.

“Talon...did you draw all of these...?”, Gaea asked in absolute awe. “How long...have you been doing this?...Is this why you’re always in here?...”

The teen had nothing to say...his innermost feelings and possessions have been discovered.

As much as it burned Gaea’s heart that the lad would keep such a talent hidden from the rest of their family, it hurt more knowing that he was hurting so...

Noticing a few incomplete sketches on his desk, she approached to get a better look.

“Talon...why didn’t you come to us?...You’re hurting...why won’t you let us help?”

“...you wouldn’t understand”, the boy replied, holding back bitter tears.

“Talon...”, Gaea’s voice softened, “we all miss Muerlin. You can talk to us about it whenev-”.

“No, I can’t”, the boy spouted. His pain beginning to take over his emotions. “I can’t talk to any of you about it...”, he insisted.

“The only person that could understand is Heira.....and she’s too damn stupid to know anything because you try so hard to protect her from the truth...”, he lightly growled, his gaze turning into a heart wrenching glare.

“But she’ll learn when Niflheim blows us sky high...”, the boy mumbles, confronting his sister over the earlier meeting, much to her dismay.

“Talon...”, she began hoping to explain.

“Just get out!!!”, the boy shrieked as he dashed toward his sister and began to shove her out of his room refusing to allow her to view his tears.

“Talon, please, just listen to m-”, Gaea desperately tried to explain before having her brother’s door viciously slammed in her face and bolted shut.

As much as Talon wished his family could understand what he felt, they couldn’t. His parents, along with Ein and Gaea got to see Muerlin. Got to actually welcome her into the family.

Talon and Heira never got that privilege, but he was barely a year younger than his estranged sister.

He felt his existence was merely to shroud the fact that she was taken...alas, he grew up feeling outcasted because of this.

The affection from his family never felt real. It felt forced...and the older he got, the more it took effect.

He grew up seeing his mother’s tears more than any of his siblings and as much as it pained Silvanus, there were times where even looking at his son was difficult.

He wished he could go to them and express how he felt, but it would only bring out the only thing he ever really gave them...sadness, so he remained in his room.

Locked away to dwell on the fact that the person he longed for most in this world, the only one that ever made him feel as if he belonged, would never know him as he gazed upon the hundreds of portraits he drew of her, unable to tell which one was really her before lowering his head against the wall...his gentle sobs filling the room.

On the lower floor of the south side of the palace...

11 year old Heira gazed from her window toward the moonlit sky, wide awake before the latch of her door caught her attention.

“Hello, sweet-tart”, Ceres pleasantly greeted her youngest daughter.

“Hi, mommy”, Heira yawned as she rubbed her eyes.

“What seems to be the matter?”, the queen asked as she took a seat on the bed next to the child. “Talon said you had a nightmare”.

“No, I didn’t”, Heira replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh...?”, Ceres asked realizing her son had lied to cover the fact he was eavesdropping, but with a sigh changed the subject. “Well, then why’re you awake? It’s late”.

“I know. I was just counting the stars”, the little girl admitted with a smile on her face.

Being 3 years younger than Muerlin, Heira had almost no emotional attachment to her older sister. She barely remembered her existence most of the time.

This helped the king and queen cope slightly since to her, the gloom was normal so it didn’t feel like anything was amiss, but the guilt in their secrecy was still prominent.

The only one that was oblivious was little Heira.

As Heira grew older, it just became routine to shield her from the horrors of the Zephyr family making her innocence both her best and worst quality.

Especially now...the whole legacy of the Zephyr’s could crumble into dust within the coming months and she had no idea...but how would she, as a mother, explain to an 11 year old who’s lived with a falsehood of perfection that everything she knew and loved could be destroyed because of someone she never knew?

Was there even a way?

“What’s wrong, mommy?”, the delicate child asked her mother, her majorelle iris’ glistening in the night’s hue.

“...Nothing, pumpkin”, the woman lied, upon pure instinct much to her sorrow, as she pulled her daughter into her lap and watched the stars with her. A single tear rolling down her cheek.

“Nothing at all”.

Deeper into the night...

Little Heira had finally drifted to sleep sending Ceres on a tearful walk toward the master chambers.

Upon entering, she was surprised to see Silvanus fully dressed and packing some of his belongings.

“Silvy?”, the queen addressed her king, catching his attention. “Where are you going this time of night?”

“...Insomnia”, the man replied after a deep sigh.

“WHAT?”, Ceres loudly whispered as she rushes toward her husband. “Tell me you’re joking!”

“Alright. I’m joking”, the king replied planting a light kiss upon her cheek.

“Now say it like you mean it”, she demanded in light irritation.

“See, that’s called lying and I’ve sworn by oath never to do so to you”, the man attempted to joke to ease his wife’s worry, of course, to no avail.

“Silvanus Zephyr, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? What could you possibly need to go there for? You tell me this INSTANT or I swear on Ramuh’s grave, I will-”.

“Alright”, the king reluctantly complied to ease his fuming queen. “Alright”.

“Well?”, Ceres egged him, growing inpatient with his silence.

“Look...we both know that the day will come when Izunia seeks our end and will stop at nothing until he makes it so...”, he admitted with a sigh, discouraging Ceres despite the fact she was also aware of this.

“Whatever happens to us, we cannot allow him to find Muerlin...at least not until she’s ready”, he continued.

“So, what is your business in Insomnia?”, Ceres asked with a raised eyebrow.

“To keep her safe as she prepares for the hardships ahead...”, he finally admits. “Sylva kept her from him long enough for her to find her way home, but she will not be safe here for quite some time...and we must be prepared”.

“...but...what if he comes before she returns?”, Ceres asked in slight worry.

“I was speak to Regis of this. The point is, in her current state, she cannot stay in Willownoire”, Silvanus concluded before he finished packing. “I will return soon”, he said in-between a gentle kiss upon his wife’s lips as he exited the room, making it all the way toward Willownoire’s portal gate before...

“WAIT!”

The king turned to see his wife desperately running to him in tears.

“Ceres, what’re you doing?”, Silvanus exclaimed in concern.

“Let me go with you”, the queen begged. “With the two of us, we could watch each other’s back”.

“Ceres, you are needed here to keep the rest of them at bay”, Silvanus denied her request.

“They’re be fine. Ein and Gaea can watch Talon and Heira, it’ll be fine”.

“Ceres”.

“Please!...I won’t be able to live with myself if I lost you too...”, she sobbed, finally admitting to her worries, melting the old king’s soul.

Placing his hands upon her shoulders, Silvanus gazed lovingly into his wife’s crystal eyes.

“Ceres Hova...my love...I promise...I swear...with every ounce of my being, if I am to die soon...it’ll be aside you...protecting Willownoire”, he gently wiped her tears with his thumb before pulling her into a loving embrace.

...and with that, the King of Willownoire bid his kingdom farewell as he set off to The Crown City to ask his dear friend for one final favor.

Tagging: @digitalkanvas @insomniasix @glacian-apocalypse @aquathemermaidstripper @a-new-recipehhh @prettyprompto @dizzymoogle

9 notes · View notes

peachyvhope · 6 years

Text

Honey, Gold, & Gucci | kth

;pairing — taehyung x reader

;warnings — single dad x high school senior | first part smut-free

;summary — Honey-kissed skin, golden eyes, all adorned by Gucci. Maybe the fun part is just the thrill of him being older, getting to come back from a completely mundane day of classes and wrapping yourself in his arms, playing a pretend perfect family. But for sure, you knew you loved feeling him on you, in you, all over you.

;word count — 8,438

“Oh, look.” Your mother said as she looked through the window across the street. You didn’t bother following her gaze, instead keeping your eyes glued to your calculus textbook. Ever since you were a young child, your mother had a nasty habit of what you and your friends liked to call ‘neighbor-watching’ something of which she was completely unashamed. In fact, she had even gotten you into it at one point, but you had forced yourself to break the habit. You didn’t want to be that nosy teenager known throughout the neighborhood for watching Red Truck Man obsessively wax his, well, red truck. Or the old guy who you called ‘Green Dude’ before he moved out. He was always cutting his lawn, keeping the grass at precisely one inch exactly in height. The keyword here was cut; he didn’t mow his lawn like normal people. He cut the grass. With scissors.

Now, you just had a bad habit of procrastinating. You would push off studying or doing your homework until the morning, rather than the night before.

“No, seriously, (Y/N), look. Someone’s moving in.” Your mother insisted after you ignored her first call.

“Into Green Dude’s house?” You confirmed as you flipped to the next page in your textbook, determined to finish your work before school.

“You mean One-Inch?” Your mother corrected. “Yeah.” She called him One-Inch, which probably made more sense for his weird antics, but, in your defense, he did always wear this weird green bodysuit when he cut the grass. Despite the fact that he moved out, he still owned the house. So he made sure to stop by bi-weekly to keep up the precision of his cherished grass.

For your mother’s sake, you looked up to see her still staring out the window, as nosey as ever. From where you sat, you could see the large moving truck in the driveway of the house across the street. Emerging from behind said moving truck was the outline of what looked like a guy. His face was partially masked by the black beanie and face mask he wore. To be frank, it was hard to gauge his appearance from this distance, even with your sharp vision. He was carrying a couple boxes that looked somewhat heavy. You wondered if he had someone to help him or if he was moving everything by himself.

“Oh, there’s a kid.” Looking towards the house, you saw a small toddler dressed in a tiger onesie waddle out of the of the front door and plop down on the perfect grass. You felt your lips curve into a smile as the small child stumbled about. Watching her stand up and totter another few steps before falling again, you gathered that she was likely just learning to walk.

“Cute,” you mumbled. Sparing one last glance at the fumbling child, you reverted your attention back to the calculus textbook before you. However, you realized that you had lost your motivation to try to absorb any more knowledge of the wretched subject.

“We should go over and introduce ourselves,” your mother suggested as she placed a plate of hot pancakes in front of you. Finally, breakfast was served. You smiled gratefully at your mother as you picked up the fork, setting your textbook aside and indulging in your breakfast. Okay, so maybe your mom just put them in the microwave and cut up some apples on the side, but it's the thought that counts.

“Alright, I’m going to work. I’ll see you later, okay?” Your mother picked up her blazer from the back of the chair to your right and tossed it over her shoulder. Crouching slightly in her six-inch stilettos, she pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and waved goodbye before heading out the door. You gave a non committal hum, but did not look out of the kitchen window to bid her goodbye, far too immersed in finishing up your breakfast so you could head to school yourself.

When you were finished with your pancakes, you gently placed the dishes in the sink and grabbed a bottle of water for the road. Before your walked out of the house, you checked all of the windows and doors that your mother had left open.

Your mother was a bit of an airhead and somewhat dependant upon your father when it came to common sense things such as locking up the house. However, with your father out on his business trip, you found that three windows were left unlatched, and the back door was wide open, as well. Leave it to your mom to give a burglar easy access.

After you locked the front door of your home and stuffed your keys into your backpack, you glanced across the street to see if the little tiger girl was still outside. You noticed that instead of attempting to walk once more on unstable footing, she was lifted into the embrace of the man you had seen earlier moving boxes. While your neighborhood was nowhere near sketchy, you couldn't help but wonder why he would leave such a young child unattended.

The child in his arms wiggled around in his grasp, reaching for his hat with determination. When she finally succeeded and tugged at it, he helped her remove it. While she played with the hat, you finally got a better glimpse of the young man. His black face mask had migrated to his chin at this point giving you a better view.

“Maybe he's her older brother,” you pondered, seeing him smile warmly at the toddler. You assumed their mom was already inside unpacking the boxes you had seen him carrying earlier.

Deciding that it was time to quit being nosey, you curiously checked your phone for the time. You realized with a start that you had been watching the scene play out in front of you for far too long. If you didn't hurry, you were definitely going to be late for school. You quickly turned on your heel and started sprinting to school.

You made it to your classroom with only a moment to spare. The tardy bell rang as you slid into your seat, gasping for air. You would have thought gym class would have better prepared you for an occasion such as this. It didn't. Your classmates nearest to you gave you strange looks as you tried to calm your breathing. Please, like they've never been that close to being late. Oh well, it didn't really bother you anyway. One day they, too, will know your pain.

A sudden vibration in your pocket startled you and tore you away from your thoughts. You glanced up at your teacher, making sure that he wasn't looking your way before you dared to check the message. Once you were sure the coast was clear, you pulled your phone from your pocket stealthily and checked the unread text.

Kasper 👻 [Wed. Dec 18. 8:14 AM]

Why were you so late???

You looked towards the back row to find your friend starting back at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes and relayed the mornings events to her. Almost immediately, your phone vibrated again. Your attention turned back to your phone as you read her reply.

Kasper 👻 [Wed. Dec 18. 8:23 AM]

Omg you're such a weirdo lol who even does that?

Kasper 👻 [Wed. Dec 18. 8:24 AM]

Was he at least cute?? ;)

You smile slightly to yourself as you began to respond.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” You felt your heart drop as you blood turned ice cold in your veins. You could feel the entire the eyes of the entire class fall upon you as you nervously glanced around. Quietly in the back of the room, you could have sworn you could hear some very familiar snickers. You feel your phone vibrate once again, but you wouldn't dare chance a look at it this time.

“Ah, Mister Wang…” You began, trying your hardest to come up with some kind of excuse that would stop the inevitable.

“No excuses. Place your phone in the box. Now. You can see me after school.” His tone ultimately left no room for argument, but still you thought you could push your luck.

“But--”

“It can wait. I said now. Or should I send you out?” You knew better than to carry on any further. His tone was getting increasingly more annoyed and you didn't want to find out what would happen when he was pushed too far. You groaned inwardly, standing up in defeat as you quietly stomped your way over to the box behind your teacher’s desk.

Mister Wang had a strict no-phone policy, but he rarely stuck to it. He was actually usually pretty chill with phone usage, so long as you still paid moderate attention in class and you weren't on the brink of failure. However, with Economics being your easiest class, it was practically impossible for you to be even close to failure.

You reluctantly dropped your phone into the empty box, making a face at how lonely it looked. You gathered that Mister Wang must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed today. You silently began the walk of shame back to your seat, completely aware of all the eyes still glued to you in your moment of embarrassment.

“Next time, I hope you will pay more attention to my lectures.” Wang, well, lectured. You groaned inwardly at being called out once again before you nodded.

“Of course, sir.” You confirmed as you clasped your hands together obediently, before realizing why you’d been picked out in the first place. You were completely unprepared for class, you hadn’t even bothered to take your notebook out, and you weren't even paying the slightest bit of attention. You were just sitting there, staring blankly as Mister Wang droned on and on. That must have been what set him off, but who could really blame you? This was your easiest class, after all. However, you quickly admitted defeat and quietly pulled out a notebook to copy down the notes that were written on the board.

When your class was finally over, Kasper jumped up from her seat and scurried over to your side. You glance up at her and took in her new appearance, only mildly surprised. Instead of her usual brown hair, she stood before you with blonde hair with blue tips.

“You colored your hair,” you commented as you shoved your notebook into your bag, mood still a little sour from the earlier events of the class. You spared a glance inside your backpack and groaned. Where was your calculus homework? You could have sworn that you put it inside your bag this morning, you just couldn't remember where. You have to remember to clean out your bag at some point this week.

“Technically, I bleached my hair, and then I dipped the tips,” she corrected. You rolled your eyes at your best friend and stood up.

“Whatever, same thing,” you muttered as you threw your backpack over your shoulder. “This is all your fault.” You reminded her as you glanced over your shoulder at Mister Wang, who remained behind his desk. You can tell that he feels your gaze but he does his best to avoid it. Asshole, you think to yourself. No. I don't really mean that. I really should have been paying more attention. You relent as you make your way out of the classroom.

“Looks like someone pissed in his cup of herbal tea this morning.” Kasper suggested as she followed you out of the classroom.

“I think you mean coffee?” You corrected, confused at why she would suggest herbal tea as a morning drink.

“Oh, he doesn't drink caffeine,” Kasper said, wrapping the pale blue ends of her hair around her finger and pulling the strands across the top of her lip to make a makeshift mustache. “Don’t ask me how I know.”

“Oh, I think I know.” You grimaced, not really wanting to consider why she knows that random tidbit.

“What do you think you know?” Kasper challenged, walking closely beside you as you walked to your next class; calculus for idiots. Except you seemed to be the only idiot in there. Before you could walk into the classroom, not that you really wanted to be there anyway, Kasper grabbed you by the arm, tugging you towards her. She kept a firm grip on your arm and looked at you expectantly, waiting on an answer.

“Kas,” you started, unsure of how to word this delicately. “you’re always falling for older guys. Don’t you think someone in our age group is better?” Kasper furrowed her brow as she waited for you to finish. “I know for a fact you went after class to Wang’s and asked for some help. Seriously? No one needs help in that class except that Justin Seagull kid, and that’s because he’s a few crayons short of a full box.” You finished your explanation, waiting timidly for your friends response.

“Wow,” Kasper crossed her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at you. “You’re my best friend. You're supposed to be supportive of me, not…” she waved her hand dismissively at you, “whatever this is.” She finished with a huff as you sigh and shake your head.

“No matter what happens, I will always support you. Don't ever doubt that.” You begin, your feelings mildly hurt that she thought differently, even for a moment. “So if older guys are just your type, I'll still support you.” You gently placed your hand on Kasper’s shoulder, squeezing gently to let your friend know that were, and always will be, there for her. “But maybe try dating some guys our age before you go after one of our teachers. Please.” You tack on, because, at the end of the day, the last thing that you want is for her to be hurt. You could only see a fling with an older man, a teacher at that, going terribly wrong.

“I promise.” You held your other pinky out, raising your eyebrow expectantly, and the corners of Kasper’s lips twitched upward into a smile. She hooked her pinky with yours as you grinned back at her. Arguments between the two of you never seemed to last long, but you really hated them nevertheless.

“I’ll be there for you, too.” Kasper agreed with a warm smile. “As soon as you find a guy of your own, that is.” She stuck her tongue out in a teasing notion, before turning on her heel.

“I'll have you know, I have no trouble getting a guy!” You call out defiantly as Kasper walked away from you and into the classroom. “It's just that no one here is really my type.” You explained, making sure to keep your voice down as you walked in. You certainly didn't want to draw any attention to yourself like you did during the last class. You followed Kasper to your usual seats, grateful that your calculus teacher let you pick your own seats. As soon as you took your seat, however, Mister Nam began his lesson, effectively ending your conversation and forcing you to take out your notebook and follow along.

When the school day was finally over, you met up with Kasper outside of your literature class. You hadn't seen her since your last shared class, which happened to be calculus. There she had made a fool of herself by actually falling asleep and banging her head on the desk when he arm slipped from under her chin. You snickered to yourself as you recalled the event, because, to be honest, it made you feel a little better about your own humiliation in economics. You took in her appearance as she met up with you, her hair was slightly disheveled and you could tell that she recently reapplied her bright red lipstick.

“Did you get your phone?” Kasper greeted, as she hoisted her backpack higher.

“About that…” You started as you began to play with the hem of your skirt, a sheepish grin mixing into your expression. “Come with me?”

“No.” Her answer was flat and simple, leaving no room for argument. But it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

“Please? Pretty please?” You practically pleaded with her. “I don’t get why you’re not jumping at the chance to see Wang, I thought you were crushing on the old man.” You were thoroughly confused at her refusal to join you.

“He is not old,” Kasper immediately came to his defense. “He’s just older,” Kasper corrected you as she crossed her arms across her chest, “Maybe you should find an older guy. You always act like you’re my mom or something. And by the way, I’m legal. You’re legal, too. It's not like it's a big deal!”

“Dating a teacher, however, is not legal.” You added, exasperated. You knew it didn't matter, though. She was never going to see it your way.

“What they don't know won't kill them,” Kasper gave you a petty smile. Before you could ask who they were and how she knew it wouldn't kill them, she changed the subject. “Anyway, I’ve got a hot date that I need to prepare for, so give Mister Wang my best wishes.”

“You have a hot date,” you asked incredulously as your best friend began to retreat.

“With my chemistry tutor. Yay me,” and you could hear the disdain in her voice. “Dude is a stone!” And with that she was gone, her bright hair disappearing around the corner. You breathed out a deep sigh; you had to go and enter the depths of hell. Alone.

As you approached the classroom, you stomach rolled in apprehension. You went to turn the handle to the door and froze. You could hear loud bangs and hints of Mister Wang cursing from inside. Either he was doing some heavy duty remodeling, or he was taking out some repressed anger on the old, metal filing cabinets. You stared at the door nervously, thoughts of turning back and heading home crossing your mind. Maybe I should just leave and get my phone another time. You thought to yourself uneasily. Ugh, who am I kidding? My entire life is practically on that phone. What would I do without it? You sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of your nose, while you sorted out this internal argument.

Fuck it. So what if he's having a bad day? Mister Wang told you that you could pick up your phone at the end of the day, and that's what you were going to do. With that final thought, you twisted the door knob with a false confidence and peered into the doorway to find Mister Wang shuffling through papers on the floor.

“Who is it?” He grunted, not even bother to look up. You said your name aloud and waited, but you got nothing. You looked around nervously and fiddled with your skirt in search of something to occupy your hands during this awkward silence.

“Your phone is on my desk,” he answered finally, only barely jerking his head upward towards his desk, and there you found the box where your phone had been tossed.

As you moved towards the large desk, you took notice of the state of the classroom. One of the filing cabinets had indeed fallen over, but that was about it. Some metal boxes were on the floor, which was also covered in piles of papers. Maybe he’d lost something?

“Thanks, Mister Wang. I’ll be leaving now.” You bowed slightly before scurrying out of the classroom. Mission accomplished. You thought to yourself triumphantly once you were in the clear, and finally began your journey home. The school halls were already almost completely cleared, save for the people who had after school activities or were just dragging out the time it took for them to go home. You saw some people were chatting with their friends, and others were shuffling through their bag’s contents. You couldn't believe that in just a few short months, you would be relieved from your duty as a student. You subconsciously began to fiddle with the necklace that hung around your neck as you made your way home.

You kept a moderate pace as you walked home, though, after the day you had, you were just begging to be seated in the comfort of the couch in front of the television. Maybe I'll even take a nap. You thought gleefully. I always leave my homework till the last minute anyway. You reasoned with yourself. It wasn’t a very hard battle after all. Soon enough, your neighborhood came into view and you could practically feel yourself sinking into the soft material of the couch. You hummed aloud, maybe you’d make yourself some hot chocolate, too. The weather was certainly getting colder.

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. The little girl from earlier, still dressed snugly in her tiger onesie, waddled across the yard. You raised an eyebrow, confused. Are they still moving in? Even now? You pondered, wondering how they hadn't gotten everything into the house by now. You looked at the house and noticed that the door to the house was wide open. She must have wandered out on her own, you figured. You watched her plop down on her little tush and crawl a bit before deciding to chance standing up again. She started wandering towards the street and, from where you stood, it seemed that she was going to fall face first into the street. Before you even knew what was happening, you were running towards the toddler, arms out and ready to stop her.

“Oh no, be careful!” Before she could fall on the harsh asphalt, you scooped her up. You dusted the nonexistent dirt of her behind and held her close. “Where’s your mommy?” You asked, hoping she was old enough to know the answer. However, she said nothing. She just stared back at you with wide, warm hazel eyes and a confused expression.

“Oh, my gosh, you’re so cute,” you cooed, admiring the way a ring of gold hung inside her iris, adding another layer of depth to her already beautiful eyes. The little girl began to wiggle around in your arms, silently demanding freedom, so you set her down. “What’s your name, sweetie?” you tried again. After a moment of silence, she finally got around to yelping something that sounded an awful lot like... Kimchi? You blinked repeatedly, confused, and looked up at the large house with the front door still wide open.

“Come on, sweetie.” You said, taking the little girl’s chubby fist in your hand and walking to the front door. Not wanting to seem like an intruder, you rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. When there was no sound after a few moments, you were forced to resort to rapping your fist against the ajar heavy oak door.

“Coming!” The voice came from above. A deep, honey-soaked voice. Is that the guy from before? You wondered to yourself. After a few moments, the man finally appeared. He wiped sweat from his forehead, exhaustion clear in his expression.

“Daddy!” the girl exclaimed upon seeing him, tearing her hand from your grasp and running—as fast as her little legs could carry her— to the guy you had seen earlier. No way, you thought in disbelief, this is his kid? She must be confused! There's no way he's old enough to be her father. Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor as you tries to wrap you mind around this fact.

“Oh, how’d you get out?” The man picked up his daughter with a smile and held her close, bouncing her up and down slightly. He swept his gaze over to you and looked you up and down. “Oh, hello?” You saw a hint of something flash in his eyes, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

You looked up at the guy. His eyes, you could see, were a light brown with the same golden ring in his iris. It wasn’t just his eyes that were pretty. His whole face was… pretty… handsome… whatever a normal person would call him. But the point was, this supposed father was extremely good-looking. “I...Um, she was outside. Alone.” You managed to stutter out, cheeks aflame.

“Uh…” The guy tilted his head in confusion, looking at you for more of an explanation.

“I, uh, live across the street.” You turned and pointed at your house to prove your point, but in reality, you wouldn’t really be able to prove it until you actually went inside. “I was on my way home from school,” You took in the way he glanced down at your uniform, “when I saw her running towards the street. I, uh…” You trailed off. You couldn’t tell if he was actually paying attention to you or not. His expression was so...blank, as if he either couldn’t understand you, or he just wasn’t listening to you. “Your door was wide open. Okay, sorry for bothering you, bye,” you rushed out in a single breath, ready to excuse yourself from this awkward situation. You turned around and started towards the front door, which was still wide open.

“Wait.”

You paused mid-step and slowly turned around.

“Thanks,” the man wiped the sweat dripping at his forehead again and gave you a small, somewhat boxy smile. “I guess I forgot to close the door when I moved the last box in. I left her to play inside.” He explained sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with the hand that wasn't holding the young child.

“I see… you should be more careful then.” You chastised. “Although, I guess my mom’s kinda like that, too. Really absent-minded, I mean. She left three windows and the backdoor open this morning!” Your eyes widened at what you just said. What if he was actually some creep who’d sneak into your house now?

“Chill. I don’t have enough time to actually come in and murder your family with an axe.” The guy started to chuckle, clearly amused by the whole situation. His daughter, on the other hand, just lay her head against his chest, while he steadily bounced her in his arms. She looked tranquil, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier with the notion of sleep consuming her.

“Well, that’s a relief, I suppose.” You felt the some of the tension in your body leave at the thought.

“Well, come on in,” He said as he motioned for you to follow him. “I'll just put her down for a nap real quick.” He went on as you followed him through the house. “I really am thankful for you. You practically saved her life!”

You seem a bit too calm for someone who's daughter narrowly avoided running out into the street, you thought, but ultimately you kept your thoughts to yourself as you followed him deeper into the house. Boxes were everywhere. To your left, to your right. They filled the entire house, it was no wonder it took him all day. You felt as if you were making your way through a mini maze with the way the boxes even lined the stairway.

Walking further into the house, you soon found yourself in a little kitchen-slash-living room situation. Here, some of the furniture was already organized and toys scattered the floor. You assumed this had been where he left her to play.

He came to a sudden stop in front of a small playpen, causing you to come to a stop as well, eyeing him curiously. He stayed like that before kneeling down next to the playpen and staring at it again, a puzzled look on his face.

“Um,” you took a single step closer. “Is everything okay?” You asked, not understanding what was going on.

He shook his head and looked up at you. “Oh, yeah. It’s just… could you help me out? I don’t want to wake her.” He motioned for you to come closer.

“Oh! Um, yeah, what do you want me to do?” You moved in, so you were in reaching distance of both father and daughter.

“Can you remove the mobile? It makes a lot of noise and I don’t want it to wake her. I’d appreciate it if you could just detach it and then I could put her down quietly.” You nodded and did as he asked of you, realizing just how loud it was as you popped it out. You placed it gently on the floor with an inevitable, but soft rattle, which caused the little one to stir a bit. He softly bounced and shushed her back to sleep, before gently placing her in the playpen. “Thanks,” he whispers as he stands up, brushing himself off.

At this point, you realized how much taller than you he was, standing so close to him for the first time. He was much taller than most guys you've met before, and it made you take a step back to marvel at his height.

“It was, uh, no problem.” You say, somewhat absentmindedly as you were still taken back by his height.

“What did you say your name was?” He suddenly took off in the opposite direction, and you didn’t know whether to stay put or follow him.

“Um, I didn’t?” Your statement came out like a question.

“I’m in the kitchen.” You took that as a summoning. Sure enough, he was digging through his fridge, and you could see boxes and bags of groceries on the counter.

You’d been inside Green Dude’s house once before, when you were in primary school. And although your memory wasn’t anything special, you could say with certainty that the inside had undergone some serious renovation. Instead of the slight dinginess it gave off years ago, you could describe the interior as homely, but stylish at the same time. You wondered if he had chosen the details himself or just hired a designer.

“So, your name?” He pushed as he suddenly placed a glass of what looked like iced tea on the kitchen island and motioned for you to sit on the stool in front of it. You thanked him and awkwardly scrambled to sit on the stool that was much higher than your own at home, before telling him your name. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Thank you for saving my daughter. Do you want anything to eat?” You shook your head, politely rejecting his offer.

“Nothing? I just bought this pastry when I went out shopping. Grapefruit tart; Mina really liked it.” He motioned towards the pastry in question, but you had something else on your mind.

“Mina?” You questioned, “Is that your daughters name?” The man before you nodded in confirmation as he continued poking around the kitchen. “And your name is?” You prodded, giving up on waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Wow, I'm a terrible host.” He chuckled as he stopped busying himself and turned to face you, “I can't believe I didn't introduce myself, I apologize. My name is Kim Taehyung, and I'm an, um, office worker. I just moved here from Daegu. I heard that the preschools around here were really good, so that influenced my decision as well.” The man, Taehyung, finished his explanation.

“Oh, that's cool,” you muttered. “If you don’t mind me asking… how old is Mina?”

“She’ll be eighteen months in a week, why?” Taehyung answered, eyeing you curiously.

“I don’t know if you know this, Mister Kim, but… most daycares only allow children two years or older.” You only knew this because during your previous year, you had been required to make a presentation on what you imagined your life would be like fifteen years from then. Yours, hopefully, included children.

“Oh…” His shoulders slumped and he looked defeated. It would've broken your heart, if it weren't for how adorable he looked. He almost looked like a sad puppy.

“B-but,” you stuttered out, “I’m sure the daycares here are great, too! I think my friend said her little brother went to a daycare and was able to go straight to a local preschool before his second birthday.” That was a complete lie, but the boxy smile that lit up his face was so much cuter than the pout he’d been sporting just moments before.

“Oh, really? Which one?” He pressed, eager to have another option.

“I, uh, don’t remember the name,” you said slowly, enunciating every word clearly. “But, I’ll, um, ask for it for you, Mister Kim.” Great, now you had extra homework. Find a good, local daycare for an adorable eighteen month old girl.

“Please, call me Taehyung.” Taehyung gave you a slight smile. “Mister Kim makes me feel so old. Besides, we’re neighbors; I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other a lot more.”

“What do you mean?” You didn't realize that you liked where this was going.

“I mentioned I’m a office worker, right?” You nodded, unsure of what that had to do with this particular conversation. “That requires a lot of my time, and while the daycare is an option, when you are able to get me the name, I’m going to need a back up. A babysitter. How convenient is it that you live across the street?”

“But…” You looked around, not sure how to answer.

“Please? I’ll pay you anything you ask.” He all but pleaded.

“But sir…” You fidgeted nervously in your seat.

“Taehyung.” He insisted, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, breaking you down a small bit.

“Taehyung...,” you began carefully, “you barely know me. I could be a complete psychopath for all you know. And anyway, what about her mother?” Suddenly, Taehyung’s face fell and he sighed heavily. You immediately regretted asking him that. Stay-at-home fathers aren't exactly that common, so you really couldn't have known any better. Although, could he even be labeled as such? He did have a job, after all.

“She’s not here,” was all he was willing to offer.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you understood the underlying message. ‘Don't push it.’

“No, it’s okay. But do you mind thinking it over? I’d really appreciate the extra help.” He looked down at you once again with big, beautiful puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll mull over it,” you assured him, although you were still unsure about the subject. What kind of person asks a complete stranger to take care of their child? “It was nice meeting you, sir--er, Taehyung.” You said as you hopped down from the stool.

“You as well, and thanks again for today. Are you sure you don’t want any of the tart?” His eyes sparkled with some kind of hope, as if the grapefruit tart he’d mentioned would somehow coerce you into agreeing to the job. You sighed, feeling somewhat defeated. It was almost as if he knew he was slowly whittling away at your once firm resolve.

“I’ll take some.” You finally relented, in hopes of seeing his beautiful smile once again.

“Great!” He clasped his hands together in victory. You could see that there were some paper plates in the boxes of groceries on the counter, so when Taehyung reached for a plastic tupperware container in the opposite direction, you were mildly confused. You then realized that this meant that you would be forced to wash and bring the container back. Regardless, once he sliced the tart and packaged it for you, you bowed thankfully and took your leave.

While you made the short walk from Taehyung’s front door to your own, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he had a child. Then you remembered that his daughter was only eighteen months old, so you figured he might not be that much older than you were. Why do I even care? You wondered as you unlocked your front door and hurried inside. The house was still as clean as you had left it that morning, so you gathered that you were the first one home. You dropped your bag by the door and walked into the living room, plopping down on the couch with a huff and switching on the television. You didn't really care what was playing, you simply used it as background noise while you played on your phone.

That following Saturday morning, you were woken up at some ungodly hour by an incoming call from your mother. You groaned in annoyance, knowing she was probably just in her room, down the hall. Nevertheless you answered the phone, groggily pressing the device to your ear and sitting up in your bed.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! I’m on my way home with your father!” You winced as your mother's much too loud, much too eager for this early in the morning voice rang through your ears.

“Oh, he’s back today, huh?” After wiping the sleep from your eyes, you slightly opened your curtains to allow the warmth of natural light into your room.

“We will be home in a few hours; we need to stop by the store to find some stuff for dinner. In the meanwhile, can you bake a cake or something?”

“Sure, but why? Are we celebrating Dad’s return?”

“You could say that. Anyway, please get to it, and clean up, too.”

“Sure,” you mumbled again. You exchanged ‘goodbye’s and ‘I love you’s with your mother before you heard the call end with a click. You stood up and stretched, trying to shake off the sleepiness that still remained, and found the closest pair of pants on the floor to slip on.

After making yourself a cup of coffee, you started on the short list of chores your mother had given you. You started with your room, which looked like it had been hit by a tornado before you started. Then you moved on to the main floor, wiping down the windows and cleaning the dishes that had begun to pile up.

By the time you had started baking your father’s favorite cake, a decadent lemon raspberry cake, it was already half past one in the afternoon. Exactly how long was “a few hours”? As the time flew past, you focused on making the cake perfectly. The process was long and grueling, but it was also calming in a way, especially when it came to frosting and decorating the cake. Once you were done, you placed the dessert on a cake stand and covered it. You glance at the oven to check the time and, in a pale green, digital font, it read ‘4:58’. You thought about calling your parents to see where they were, but before you could even pull your phone out of your pocket, you heard the front door open, followed by a hushed conversation.

“Maybe we should have hurried?”

“What time did you tell him to come over?”

“I… don’t remember? Nothing too early; maybe 6:30?”

“That should be enough time. I could probably whip something up quickly.”

“Welcome back, Pops,” you interrupted your parents conversation to wrap your arms around your father in a hug, grinning widely as you felt you fathers hand pat the top of your head gently. He had only been gone for a little over a week, but with your mom’s cooking, the time you’d spent apart seemed to drag out much longer than usual.

“Hey, kiddo. Have you finished the cake?”

“Frosted and decorated,” you released your father and stood at attention to salute him. “Welcome back, sir.” Your father chuckled and flicked your nose.

“Thanks a lot, kiddo. I’m gonna go ahead and get dinner started. Why don’t you go get changed, alright?” Your father suggested as he shrugged off his jacket and made his way towards the kitchen.

“For what?” You asked, quizzically looking down at your simple jeans and tank top, unsure what was wrong with your attire.

“Have you even showered since you got up?” your mom teased, finally speaking up, as she

“Of course! I showered as soon as the house was clean. But why do I need to change? It’s a normal dinner, isn’t it? Or are we going all out for Dad’s welcome party?” Your mother seemed to melt at your confused expression.

“Didn't you tell her?” Your father asked, poking his head out from the kitchen.

“I could have sworn I did! Hm. It must have slipped my mind. I’ll tell her now!” Your mother explained as she dragged you up the stairs. “We invited Mister Kim and his daughter over for dinner this evening. We’re trying to be exceptional neighbors.”

“Uh huh...” you nod, folding your arms across your chest and looking at your mother suspiciously.

“What?” She questioned innocently.

“You're just doing this to be nosey, aren't you? You don't care about being neighborly.” You accused, knowing instantly when your mother feigns shock that you are correct.

“What? Absolutely not!” Her voice went up an octave, giving away the fact that she had been caught in a fib. I was born at night, you thought dryly to yourself, but it wasn't last night. You rolled your eyes and sighed in defeat.

“So, I'm guessing jeans are off-limits,” you asked, when you reached your bedroom. Your mother nodded as she took a seat on your bed and you walked over to your closet. You groaned as you slid open your closet door and tried to find something to wear. You really didn't feel like wearing a dress, but that seemed more tolerable than one of your stupid uniform skirts.

After a few minutes of sifting through your closet, you decided to go with a silky, floral patterned dress, that you had forgotten that you even owned, and a pair of strappy, nude wedge sandals. Stepping into the center of the room, you gave a slight spin and gained your mother's approval over your outfit before pulling your hair up into a sleek ponytail, at her request. I really can't wait for this night to end, you thought as you gathered some accessories, but I bet Mom will definitely get a kick out of him.

As you were finishing getting ready, you heard the doorbell ring. Your mother hopped off of your bed excitedly and nearly ran out of your room. How she could be so steady in those stilettos was beyond you and you struggled to keep up with her, not nearly as well acquainted with walking in heels as your mother was. When you reached the door you hid slightly behind her, even though the two of you were nearly the same height, and peered around her shoulder as she opened the door to reveal your new neighbor.

“Good evening.” Taehyung greeted, holding his daughter in one arm, and a gift in the other. Judging from the long and narrow bag, you could only guess that it was a bottle of wine.

“Oh, you’re here! Just on time!” Your mother’s greeted eagerly. Liar, you thought, you don't even remember what time they were supposed to be here. You shake your head slightly at the thought.

“I hope you don’t mind, Miss (Y/L/N). I brought a friend to join us.” Taehyung grinned as he shifted his daughter between arms.

“The more the merrier.” You stood on your toes to peer over Taehyung’s shoulder to see a pale, dark haired man who was slightly shorter than Taehyung was. He, too, had a gift for your mother in hand.

“Min Yoongi,” Kim Taehyung stepped aside and allowed his friend to introduce himself. “Taehyung and I just came from work, so excuse my attire.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! What line of work are you in?” Your mother had a million and one questions for the two gentlemen but you were more interested in the little girl. Today, she wore a striped dress with matching bloomers, and she managed to pull off one of her shoes, gnawing on it with a bright smile. Gosh, she really is so cute.

“Oh! I can't believe I forgot to introduce my daughter! How rude of me.” Your mother gasped and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Taehyung, this is (Y/N), she'll be graduating this summer, I can't believe it!” You smiled at your mother's introduction. That is, until she went on. “They grow up so fast, Taehyung. She'll be nineteen soon, much too soon. You might not feel like that now, but it really happens all too quickly.” Your eyes narrow at your mother in embarrassment as you feel your cheeks heat up. Every time you had company, she felt compelled to bring this up.

Your mother gave a nostalgic sigh before quickly pulling herself together and leading the group into the living room. “My husband will be done with dinner in a moment, so I hope you don’t mind if we wait in here.” She explained as she motioned for everyone to take a seat.

Taehyung and his friend, Yoongi, nodded and smiled, making themselves comfortable on the sofa. Taehyung placed Mina on the floor and she stood using the coffee table for support. You sat down beside her, taking an interest in the young girl, once in a while tapping her little hand and showing her funny faces.

After getting close to little Mina, she took a seat in your lap and you allowed her to play with your hair. Sometimes she would tug it, but it wouldn't hurt too much. When she got bored of your hair, she began to hold onto your fingers. You looked up and figured you should try to pay attention to the conversation.

“Daycare? Oh, I know the perfect one! It's the one I used to send (Y/N) to when she was a little girl! It’s great, been up and running for a few decades now. Now, what was it called?” Your mother furrowed her eyebrows as she thought deeply. You were slightly startled when she suddenly looked at you and asked, “What was it called?”

“Mother, I don’t even remember what you made for dinner last night...” You muttered as you glanced down at Mina to see her comfortably sitting in your lap, except now, it seemed like her goal was to eat your fingers. You tugged your hands away from her slightly, still allowing her to fidget with your fingers.

“Over the Rainbow!” Your mother exclaims as she remembers the name. “That’s what it’s called! It’s about ten minutes from here? (Y/N) passes it every time she walks to school.” You looked at her curiously. I do? You wondered, I guess I don't really pay that much attention to my surroundings.

“Thank you so much, that will definitely come in handy!” Taehyung bowed his head slightly, grateful for your mother's suggestion.

“Why don’t you ask (Y/N) to take care of her, too? I’m sure you’re extremely busy, and keeping her at a daycare all day could get very expensive.” God dammit, Mother.

“Well, I actually did ask her before, but maybe you could convince her?” Taehyung flashed his pathetic puppy dog eyes at you before quickly redirecting his gaze to your mother.

“Oh, so you two have met before. Why didn’t I realize?” Your mother curiously glanced between the two of you, wondering how she hadn't know this.

“It was a few days ago, when I first moved in,” Taehyung cut his eyes to you and gave a boxy smile.

“Dinner is served,” your father entered the living room with a air of elegance. He wore an apron that was slightly dirty from all of his hard work in the kitchen.

“Excellent!” Your mother exclaimed with excitement. The guests stood and your mother led the way into the dining area, but one person stayed behind. Taehyung pulled at the legs of his slacks and crouched down beside you, opening his arms for his daughter. You dusted yourself off and before you could stand, a hand came into view.

“Need a hand?”

You realized there were only two options, and it almost felt like a dating simulator. Reject his offer—which kinda played in your head as slapping his hand away, but that was a bit extreme—and seem like a real bee with an itch, stripes and all, or accept his offer. Yellow was not your color. You gingerly placed your palm in his and tried to hide the fact that your body temperature was rising. What was it about him? Yeah, he was handsome. Like model-worthy. But why did just touching him make you want to blush?

You watch for a few moments with mild amusement at Taehyung tries to search through his diaper bag single-handedly before offering to hold Mina while he continued his search. You propped Mina on your hip and waited patiently. Once Taehyung found what he was looking for, a bottle that appeared to be filled with chocolate milk, you finally made your way into the dining room with Taehyung close behind you. You took your usual seat across from your mother and shifted Mina on your lap so that you could still eat comfortably.

“Are you okay with her sitting in your lap?” You looked to your left to find Taehyung looking at you curiously as he hands Mina her bottle. You subconsciously hold the small girl a little closer.

“Yeah, I'm okay with it.”

Dinner went on rather quietly. Every so often your father or mother would bring up random events, but you didn't really have much to contribute to the conversation so you remained quiet as you continued eating, bouncing your leg every so often when Mina would begin to wiggle around. What you really wanted to, but knew you couldn't, do was to retreat to your room and finish watching one of your shows, but that was off the table for the time being. You were in the middle of zoning out and finishing up the last of your meal when question caught your attention.

“...don’t you think?” Yep, the question was definitely directed at you.

You blinked repeatedly, stunned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a good deal, isn’t it?” Your mother and Taehyung beamed at you. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to the conversation happening around you. You didn't want to chance asking them to repeat themselves and embarrassing yourself further, so you did what any normal person would do.

You nodded.

“Great! We hope that settles everything. Now, let’s eat cake.”

“Ooh, yes.”

a/n: hey all! i actually meant for this to be a christmas update... then a tae birthday update... but let’s just consider it all of the above and a new years update? haha <3 please enjoy. smut in the chapter to come.

SPECIAL THANKS TO BOTH MY EDITORS <3 [septiceyesky & sneheee]

#honey gold & gucci #gucci tae #GucciTae #gucciintellectuals #gucciv #kim taehyung #valentae #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung #bts #bts scenes #bts v #bts scenarios #bts scenario #peachyvhope

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hari-writes · 6 years

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Break It In Two And Keep The Pieces For Yourself - Chapter 3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairings: Marinette/Nathaniel, Adrien/Marinette, Chloe/Nathaniel

Summary: When Marinette and Nathaniel start dating, everyone is happy for them. Except for Adrien and Chloe. Chloe has a crush on Nathaniel and Adrien finally realises his feelings for Marinette. They decide to work together to split the happy couple up, but it’s not as simple as it seems.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Read on A03

“Kid, you can’t be serious about this.” Plagg pleaded with his charge.

“I’m perfectly serious, Plagg. I was going to drive her home the other night, it could have been me she spent the night with.” Adrien was adamant.

“I’m not sure that’s how it works. In my thousands of years of experience with romance and soulmates and I’ve never encountered a first-come-first-served policy in matters of love.”

The black kwami was exasperated. He knew deep down that Marinette and Adrien were meant to be together (after all, he knew who Marinette really was better than Adrien did), but he also knew that messing with other people’s relationships was a recipe for disaster.

“You’ll drive her away.” He warned before going off to sulk with a large wedge of Camembert.

Adrien knew Plagg was probably right, but the feeling of regret and jealousy he felt when he saw Marinette and Nathaniel making out in the park was too painful to let him see reason. Every time he remembered it, his resolve was strengthened.

He reached for his phone, trying to concoct a plausible reason to text her, but there was already a message waiting for him.

[10.01] Nino: Hey bro, you wanna hang today? Al’s out with Mari and I’m bored.

Adrien sighed. Ignoring Nino would make him a terrible friend and he already felt like a horrible person for what he was plotting against Marinette and Nathaniel.

[10.10] Adrien: Sure, dude. Shall I come to yours or we can meet at the park?

[10.11] Nino: Park sounds good. See you in 30?

[10.11] Adrien: See you then.

♥♡♥

“It was amazing, Mari. He took me to this great cocktail bar and we talked for hours.” Alya was still recounting her date from Saturday night. “And he reads the Ladyblog, did I tell you? He loves it.”

“That’s nice,” It was a lukewarm response, but Marinette wasn’t sure she even meant that.

“Isn’t it? And his apartment is huge! Afterwards, he made me an omelette and we drank wine before going again. Do you know the last time Nino and I did it twice in one night?”

“Should I?”

“Of course not, it’s been years. Seeing other people was the best idea we ever had.” Alya said.

“Best idea you ever had,” Marinette corrected her friend.

“Yes, but he’s on board,” Alya clarified.

“Is he?” Marinette couldn’t believe how single-minded Alya was being. “Because the times I’ve seen him since you downloaded that app, he hasn’t been very happy.”

“Oh, he just needs time to come round, it’s fine. So, what’s new with you?” Alya asked.

Marinette glanced at the time on her phone. It had taken her best friend forty-five minutes to ask Marinette a single question about her. Not even a ‘ça-va?’ when the first greeted each other.

“I’m good, actually. I have some news. Nathaniel and I are together, as of Saturday night.” She revealed.

“Girl! I’m so pleased for you. He’s a great guy.” Alya hugged her. “Tell me everything.”

Marinette filled in all the events of Saturday night and Sunday brunch, enjoying Alya’s reaction to Chloe’s insistence on giving a speech and her laughter at the mental image of Marinette and Nathaniel blushing like tomatoes under the glare of all their friends. Soon, they were discussing how quiet Hawk Moth had been lately and Marinette listened to Alya’s theory that he must work in the fashion industry because he was always inactive in the lead up to Fashion Week, with a sudden flurry of activity the weekend before it all began. He’d go silent again for the week of shows before resuming business as usual.

“If only Gabriel Agreste hadn’t been akumatised, he’s got all the personality traits to be an excellent maniacal supervillain.” Alya laughed and in spite of herself, so did Marinette.

They were still giggling when they wandered into the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie for pastries. Tom greeted them with a smile before drawing them both into his hulking chest for a floury hug.

“I’ve missed you, girls,” His booming voice enveloped them with the comfort as his arms provided.

“Papa,” Marinette laughed, “I saw you yesterday!”

“Ah, yes,” Tom wiggled his eyebrows comically and addressed Alya, “Did she tell you about her new man?”

Alya nodded, “She sure did. Are they disgustingly cute together?”

“Sooo disgusting,” Tom said and he and Alya laughed.

♥♡♥

“Is Nino still depressed about his girlfriend dating other guys?” Plagg asked from his hiding place in Adrien’s collar.

“What do you think?” Adrien quipped.

“You should pick up some cookies then, that bakery near the park make his favourites,” Plagg suggested.

Adrien couldn’t quite believe his ears, Plagg was actually being considerate for once.

“And get me some cheese gougères while you’re in there.” The kwami added.

Nope, not considerate after all. Adrien should have known, Plagg was only interested in cheese. The bakery was on his way to the park, though, so he pushed open the door to find Marinette and Alya already there. Tom Dupain was joking with them about something and both the girls were laughing heartily.

“Adrien!” Tom noticed him. “How lovely to see you, come on in. I’m getting to see all of Marinette’s school friends this week.”

“Hi, Mr Dupain, how are you?”

“I’m very well, thanks. And, it’s ‘Tom’, please. We’re all friends here.” Tom grinned.

“Okay… Tom, I’m just here for some of your amazing salted caramel cookies and half a dozen cheese gougères.” Adrien always felt a little overwhelmed by Tom and Sabine’s generosity and kindness; his own father wasn’t as solicitous towards him.

“Ooh, those cookies are a good choice,” Marinette said approvingly.

He smiled, “Thanks, they’re Nino’s favourite. I’m going to meet him at the park.”

Tom handed him a paper bag full of cookies and busied himself with the gougères. Adrien had a sudden thought.

“Do you two want to join us? We don’t have any real plans, we’re just at a loose end. Maybe we could hang in the park for a bit then get some food and come back to mine for dinner?” He suggested.

“I’m up for that,” Alya shrugged.

“Sure,” Marinette was hesitant. “I was going to see Nath tonight, though.”

“Invite him,” Adrien tried to sound nonchalant.

“Really? Brilliant, thanks.” Marinette smiled.

“It’s nothing,” Adrien grinned winningly and took out his phone to text Chloé.

♥♡♥

Marinette could fit her studio flat into Adrien’s apartment at least six times, she worked out during the tour. The bathroom alone was probably bigger. He moved out of the mansion after university, his father finally accepting that he needed his own space. Marinette suspected Gabriel carefully chose this place, given its vicinity to home.

“It’s amazing, Adrien,” She breathed, taking in the enormous open plan living room and kitchen.

“Come with me,” He smiled, eyes twinkling and he took her hand.

He led her to his bedroom and opened a set of double doors at the far end, revealing a Juliette balcony. Inviting her to step into the small space, he stood behind her. With one hand on her shoulder, he brought his head in line with hers, their cheeks almost touching. He pointed to a gap between two buildings on the opposite side of the courtyard.

“Notice anything familiar?” His voice was low and conspiratorial.

She faltered, his proximity making her cheeks flush. She was with Nathaniel now and she cared deeply for him, but her feelings for Adrien would take time to fade. Their closeness now was disconcerting and exciting. Looking at the spot beyond his outstretched finger, she focussed.

“Is that… my terrace?” She asked.

Adrien’s bedroom overlooked the top of the bakery and the roof terrace where Marinette spent so many happy hours. It was where she relaxed with Tikki and tended to her flowers, where Chat Noir would stop by and flirt and where she and Alya would hang out after school, talking about her latest theory on Ladybug. Happy memories washed over her and a contented sigh escaped her lips. She leaned into Adrien, his strong chest taking her weight.

“It’s a shame you don’t live there anymore, we could have waved to each other in the mornings,” He said longingly.

“Mmhmm,” Marinette agreed, closing her eyes as his voice washed over her.

Simultaneously, though, they both remembered themselves and suddenly straightened up, putting as much distance between themselves as the small balcony area would allow.

“Uh,” Adrien scratched the back of his neck, “We should go back and join Nino and Alya.”

“Y-y-yes.” Oh, no. Why was she stuttering again?

The arrived in the living room in time to answer a knock at the door.

“Adrikins! Look who I found on my way over,” Chloé stood in the hallway, draped over Nathaniel.

Caffeine and positive feedback fuel me, buy me a coffee?

#ml fanfic #ml fiction #ml fic #ml fluff #ml angst #fluff and angst #marinath #adrinette #adrienette #chlonath #marinette x adrien #adrien x marinette #chloe x nathaniel #nathaniel x chloe #my writing #my fiction #hari-writes #ao3fic #biitaktpfy

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solaptop · 3 years

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Best Computers for Nursing

Included below is a list of the five best computers to consider for nursing school. I choose these computers based on the following criteria: 1. Cost less than $1,000 (We are nursing students…) 2. At least an Intel 4th Generation Core i5 processor 3. At least a 128 GB solid state drive 4. At least 4 GB of RAM 5. Screen size at least 11 inches (those small screens are hard on my 26 year old eyes) 6. Webcam (may be necessary for distance/online students, and vid-chatting mom because she misses you a alot!) 7. Battery life greater than 4 hours 8. Weights less than 5 lbs (you will be carrying it everywhere, might as well be light) 9. The latest operating system Computer specifications can be kind of complicated, so check out my post if you want more details. All of the computers below meet the criteria published on nursing school websites for computer requirements as well. Yep, I’ve done my research.best computer for nursing school

And, clicking on the pictures and links will take you which I’ve found to usually have the best prices, free shipping, simplest return policy, best customer service, and solid warranty.

Asus K501LX-EB71 Great price and great hardware. It is hard to say no to the Asus. This bad boy comes with a hunge 15.6 inch screen, 256 GB solid state drive, and an Intel Core i7 processor. If you are looking for a practical premier quality computer, this one is perfect for you. I could image this one lasting through all 8 years of nurse practitioner school (BSN-MSN-DNP). The larger screen will be useful when writing papers and doing research, but keep in mind the larger screen means the computer will be heavier. Biggest Pros of Asus : Good price for the amazing high-quality hardware. By far, best bang for your buck. Free upgrade to Windows 10! Large 15.6 inch screen. Biggest Cons of Asus: No touchscreen. Lacks a “cool” factor. Large screen makes it heavier than others (4.4 lbs).

MacBook Air I actually use this computer every day at work and I have zero complaints. It’s fast. It’s sleek. It’s a top quality machine. It does run Mac OS X, which is the Macintosh version of Windows, so that does take some getting used to. I’d say the learning curve is about 1 week. Don’t expect your professors to know how to use a MackBook Air, but the IT people at your school certainly will. If you just want to solid capable computer and you want to be done with your search, go for this guy. You won’t be disappointed. Biggest Pros of the MackBook Air: Fast. Reliable. Only 2.96 lbs! And, it has the cool factor. Biggest Cons of the MacBookAir: No touchscreen. Pricey. Runs Mac OS X as opposed to Windows, which may have a learning curve for some.

Lenovo Flex 3 The Lenovo Flex 3 can serve as both your tablet and laptop. The touchscreen actually bends all the way backwards! While this computer meets all of my specifications above, it actually also comes with an additional 500 GB of storage space on top of the 8 GB solid state drive. On the downside, that extra hard drive space causes the computer to be on the heavier side at 4 lbs. The battery life is also shorter than most other computers at only 4 hours.

Biggest Pros of Lenovo f=Flex 3: Touchscreen and bendability. Can be used in tablet or laptop mode. Includes an additional 500GB storage space. Fingerprint security included. Biggest Cons of Lenovo Flex 3: Short battery life. On the heavy side at 4 lbs.

Surface Pro 3 This is the computer I have, and if you have spent any time on my website you can see how much I love it! The weighs less than 2 lbs and comes with a pressure sensitive stylus that makes taking notes super easy. Here are I took with the pen in nursing school, and another post titled “” The completely detaches so it can easily become a tablet. You can also pop it into a and it becomes a desktop computer. Also, the is which can come in handy during your clinical rotations. I love this laptop so much Microsoft even made a “” video of me using it (I know, right!). [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eS3IzPBehvY[/embedyt] Biggest Pros of the : The unique Surface Pen and the ability to take handwritten notes directly on the screen. Long battery life (7.5 hours). Ultra light weight (1.96 lbs). Biggest Cons of the : High price once you purchase the keyboard and Doking Station (>$1,000). Smaller screen (11 inches).

Dell XPS13 Ultrabook This is a newer computer that meets all my specifications and touts a 15 hour battery life! That should last you all day in nursing school for sure. Unfortunately, like the , the does not have a touchscreen. It does have a mini display port for easy connection to an external monitor. I’ve never used this one myself, but online reviews state that it is durable. Biggest Pros of the : 15 hour battery life! Super light weight at 2.6 lbs. You can walk around and shout “!” Biggest Cons of the : No touchscreen. Any questions? Please don’t hesitate to . I am very passionate (obsessed!) with technology so I am more than happy to answer your questions. Finding the right computer is important because it is one less thing to stress about in school!.

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roadsideassiomaha · 3 years

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Contact us: 724 Roadside Assistance Omaha 24 Hour Towing Roadside Assistance Mobile Mechanic Services in Omaha, NE CALL (402) 590-8094 ROADSIDE ASSISTANCE CALL (402) 401-7563 MOBILE MECHANIC – 1 CALL (402) 401-7561 MOBILE MECHANIC – 2 CALL (402) 513-4411 MOBILE MECHANIC – 3 CALL (402) 401-7564 TOWING TOW TRUCK Located in Omaha, Nebraska Open 24 Hours 7 Days WEBSITE: 24houromaharoadsideassistance.org roadsideassistanceomaha.com towingserviceomaha.com mobilemechanicomaha.com mobileautorepairomaha.com Service area: Communities we serve: Omaha, Carter Lake, Council Bluffs, Crescent, Bellevue, Boys Town, La Vista, Papillion, Honey Creek, Offutt A F B, Bennington, Fort Calhoun, Washington, Elkhorn, St Columbans, Underwood, Kennard, Mc Clelland, Mineola, Waterloo, Springfield, Missouri Valley, Treynor, Cedar Creek, Gretna, Blair, Valley, Neola, Pacific Junction, Plattsmouth, Silver City, Glenwood, Louisville, Yutan, Arlington, Minden, Modale, South Bend, Logan, Murray, Ashland, Mead, Persia, Memphis, Manley, Magnolia, Macedonia, Malvern, Fremont, Carson, Oakland, Herman, Murdock, Nickerson, Shelby, Weeping Water, Hastings, Mondamin, Henderson, Ithaca, Hancock, Nehawka, Tabor, Union, Greenwood, Thurman, Portsmouth, Woodbine, Colon, Wahoo, Avoca, Emerson, Winslow, Avoca, Elmwood, Little Sioux, Cedar Bluffs, Pisgah, Tekamah, Alvo, Randolph, Ames, Hooper, Panama, Craig, Waverly, Ceresco, Percival, Otoe, Imogene, Malmo, Sidney, Uehling, Walnut, Harlan, Westphalia, Eagle, Lincoln, Dunlap, Moorhead, Red Oak, Morse Bluff, Weston, Griswold, Blencoe, Earling, Davey, Dunbar, Nebraska City, North Bend, Unadilla, Elliott, Lewis, Prague, Syracuse, Marne, Scribner, Oakland, Palmyra, Pilot Grove, Walton, Riverton, Farragut, Shenandoah, Valparaiso, Lorton, Essex, Soldier, Hamburg, Defiance, Kirkman, Raymond, Dow City, Stanton, Atlantic, Decatur, Bennet, Elk Horn, Snyder, Lyons, Kimballton, Irwin, Arion, Malcolm, West Point, Panama, Roca, Dodge, Manilla, Yorktown, Northboro, Coin, Hickman, Denton, Bancroft, Aspinwall, Sprague, Clarinda, Martell, Blanchard, Manning, Beemer, College Springs, Shambaugh, Braddyville, 50022, 51432, 51446, 51447, 51454, 51455, 51501, 51502, 51503, 51510, 51520, 51521, 51523, 51525, 51526, 51527, 51528, 51529, 51530, 51531, 51532, 51533, 51534, 51535, 51536, 51537, 51540, 51541, 51542, 51543, 51544, 51545, 51546, 51548, 51549, 51550, 51551, 51552, 51553, 51554, 51555, 51556, 51557, 51558, 51559, 51560, 51561, 51562, 51563, 51564, 51565, 51566, 51570, 51571, 51572, 51573, 51575, 51576, 51577, 51578, 51579, 51591, 51593, 51601, 51602, 51603, 51630, 51631, 51632, 51636, 51637, 51638, 51639, 51640, 51645, 51647, 51648, 51649, 51650, 51651, 51652, 51653, 51654, 51656, 52648, 68002, 68003, 68004, 68005, 68007, 68008, 68009, 68010, 68015, 68016, 68017, 68018, 68019, 68020, 68022, 68023, 68025, 68026, 68028, 68029, 68031, 68033, 68034, 68037, 68038, 68040, 68041, 68042, 68044, 68045, 68046, 68048, 68050, 68056, 68057, 68058, 68059, 68061, 68063, 68064, 68065, 68066, 68068, 68069, 68070, 68072, 68073, 68101, 68102, 68103, 68104, 68105, 68106, 68107, 68108, 68109, 68110, 68111, 68112, 68113, 68114, 68116, 68117, 68118, 68119, 68120, 68122, 68123, 68124, 68127, 68128, 68130, 68131, 68132, 68133, 68134, 68135, 68136, 68137, 68138, 68139, 68142, 68144, 68145, 68147, 68152, 68154, 68155, 68157, 68164, 68172, 68175, 68176, 68178, 68179, 68180, 68181, 68182, 68183, 68197, 68198, 68304, 68307, 68317, 68336, 68339, 68346, 68347, 68349, 68366, 68372, 68382, 68402, 68403, 68404, 68407, 68409, 68410, 68413, 68417, 68418, 68419, 68428, 68430, 68438, 68446, 68454, 68455, 68461, 68462, 68463, 68501, 68502, 68503, 68504, 68505, 68506, 68507, 68508, 68509, 68510, 68512, 68514, 68516, 68517, 68520, 68521, 68522, 68523, 68524, 68526, 68527, 68528, 68529, 68531, 68532, 68542, 68583, 68588, 68621, 68633, 68648, 68649, 68664, 68716, 68788

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