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physicalturian · 3 years

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 5

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 6269 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Aftercare / Awkwardness … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You: Sup doc, got home safely?

[You sent an attachment]

I chuckled for a second, making myself laugh at the picture of the crazy scientist from Back to the Future I had sent. Then when I looked at it more than five seconds, I just regretted it. “I should have flirted. I should have asked him if he was free soon. But I did that. Wow.” Gathering my stuff, I was expecting him to be asleep but received an answer in no time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’ll admit it’s creative real first text. But don’t send me that shit again, I’m not an old man.

You: Hey, it’s hilarious. You mad because you asked me to call you doc and now you regret it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I just hope you won’t see that in your head when you’ll think of me, it can easily become a turn off, I think.

You: Damn, what if I’m into older men?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Lucky for you I’m older, then. Why are you still awake?

Trafalgar Law 😷: You should sleep, it’s late and you seemed tensed the entire evening.

You: You’re worried about me? How cute, I thought you were just looking to dick me down.

You: But I’m going to sleep soon, don’t worry hot stuff, I was just showering before bed.

You: Who knows, maybe I’ll dream of you 😉

I read my message over, and over and as I saw him type and stop a few times I was quick to send another one.

You: Yeah, ignore that. I’m tired, I’m not pushy promised. But you should sleep too, beauty sleep and all.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Depending on the kind of dreams you’re having, I’ll gladly join you.

Trafalgar Law 😷: You’re cute. I’ll sleep in a few. I still have some things to do, I’ll be sure to send you a text in the morning to ask you what you dreamed of.

You: Right, bold of you to assume I remember my dream. And that I’d share them with you.

You: But please go to bed, it’s getting super late.

[Trafalgar Law 😷sent an attachment]

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m in bed, don’t worry.

It was stupid, but I did laugh. He was sitting against his pillows, the simple black bed panel behind him. His hair was a lot messier than usual, but he did not look sleepy one bit. And he was still wearing his dress shirt, which clearly was in no way a pajama.

You: Funny. You’re a funny guy Trafalgar Law, wow. You’re lucky you’re hot

You: You’re still fully dressed, that’s not going to sleep to me.

Trafalgar Law 😷: If you want to see me naked so bad, you have to work for it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I did say I’d enjoy you on your knees, it seems like a good place to start. But, all in due time, right?

Chuckling at his text, I bid him a good night without replying to his innuendo which was more than an innuendo, really. Hopefully, an unspoken promise of a goodtime. I left the bathroom feeling a bit funny inside and put the toy away before sitting back on the bed. I was wearing a large shirt so that I could show my legs if the HandSurgeon asked and sat with my legs crossed on the bed before typing.

Edelweiss: Back!

HandSurgeon: Your lap is pretty red; how does it feel?

Edelweiss: it’s alright, a bit sore but I like it, it reminds me of yeah… the discipline so yeah, it’s ok

HandSurgeon: Cute, you enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe you could take more next time if you feel like it.

HandSurgeon: But it’d mean you’d have disobeyed, which you won’t do. Correct?

Edelweiss: yes, I won’t. Sorry…

HandSurgeon: It’s alright, doll.

HandSurgeon: Is there something you enjoyed more this session? Or did not at all?

Trying to remember the things he had said during the session, I was going to tell him that everything was good until I remembered that small thing he said, that I did not particularly enjoy. I didn’t know if he was going to tell me to just get on with it and try to enjoy it or anything but trusting he wouldn’t get mad I wrote down.

Edelweiss: I really enjoyed your voice… that’s for sure but I didn’t enjoy being called a bitch in heat?

Edelweiss: it was alright right now though, but I don’t know, I didn’t vibe.

Edelweiss: sorry if you’re more of a degrader than praiser

HandSurgeon: I am sorry, I am indeed more used to be a bit rougher with my partner. I’ll be more careful next time, don’t hesitate to tell me if you don’t like something I do.

HandSurgeon: This is an exchange, we’re both in to enjoy it and have fun. And while I usually degrade, I am very much enjoying telling you how good you are. Even more so seeing how well you react.

HandSurgeon: You did good telling me your color, very good.

HandSurgeon: I believe edging was not in your list, but how did you enjoy it?

Edelweiss: soooo frustrating! And embarrassing to beg alright? But in a good way I guess… a very good way

Pondering a bit more, I was curious. If we were giving feedbacks and asking questions, I could give it a go.

Edelweiss: were you annoyed? That I touched myself.

HandSurgeon: Yes. I was. If I had you next to me, I would have brought you to my bed. I would have had you kneeling in the center, with that egg still inside you. The had you stripped down naked and would have looked at you. If you had moved, I’d strike you down. Simple.

HandSurgeon: You’d be begging in no time, really.

Edelweiss: it does sound kinda interesting though

Edelweiss: I’d definitely be up to it if you’d enjoy it

HandSurgeon: I’m sure you’d take it like very well, adding a blindfold to the mix would be even better.

HandSurgeon: You wouldn’t know when I’d strike. Jumping on the bed at the littlest touch. Goosebumps all over that pretty body of yours.

HandSurgeon: Running the tip of my whip over your skin. Barely grazing it. Then gripping the back of your neck and sliding my fingers through your hair. Pulling your head back to see that needy face of yours.

I wanted to read more of him, see what else he’d do to me. I wanted to do something again. While my sex was sore, I could also feel the throbbing coming back and fuck was I ready to ask him if he had time to do it again. My body must have been moving on the screen, since I saw the new message from the dom.

HandSurgeon: Stop fidgeting. There won’t be another session tonight, doll. I have to finish working, and you…

HandSurgeon: Well, you need to eat something and drink some water. Go get some food. We can hang up if you want, or you can leave the camera on. I would not mind the little motivation of seeing my girl on the screen.

Edelweiss: I won’t stay long, I have classes tomorrow. Lemme grab some food, I’ll be right there!

Edelweiss: but admit it, you just want to make sure I eat and drink 👀

HandSurgeon: I do indeed. Now, go.

We then spent around 20 minutes on the call. I stayed with my camera on, still making sure he could not see my face, and ate up. He would reply a bit more slowly than during our session, since he was working, but when he did it was a lot lighter than usual. We talked of our lives, previous partners, preferences but it quickly turned to other topics. TV shows we enjoyed or had in common, hobbies, pets.

I learnt he liked to sketch, mostly people, he never did art school and never wanted to but loved the human anatomy. He said he found it fascinating. I felt flattered when he suggested we find some free time so that he could draw me. I told him I’d think about it, then we changed topics but kept off the more personal ones, such as family, school and city. The less we knew, the better. It was weird, getting to know him after I had let him do as he pleased with me. But doing so made it more interesting for some reason.

I did not feel anything much for the man, but I enjoyed his company a lot. I had no plan of meeting him at all, and if I ever found someone, I’d probably stop talking to him, which is something we both agreed on. This was just to get off, this was simply to both find that pleasure of having the power dynamic in play. It was interesting, and I never thought I’d be doing this but here I was, having hung up on a stranger I should call my dom. Here I was, exhausted after masturbating for him. Following each of his instruction.

Having had a taste of that side I had never ventured on, I realized I liked it a lot and I could see myself doing it more from time to time. Maybe not all the time, but in bed it was so intriguing.

I surprised myself as I laid under my covers, slowly drifting to sleep, when a thought crossed my mind, I wonder if Law would do that… I shook the thought away, but it came back just as strong, I was curious. He would look at me with the same look he gave me all night, intrigued and yet clearly expecting all those reactions of me. Knowing what he was doing, knowing the effect he had on me. Whatever I’d say, he wouldn’t be surprised, as if he could read me. He’d ask me those same questions he did that night, trying to get me riled up and I would let him. Would I imagine him as that man from online?

Would I secretly be hoping he would be that good? Would I let him do as he pleased with me? Was I even going to go on a date with him? This last question had an answer already, we both hardly had any free time. I don’t believe we had the same schedule either, it’d be too hard. But I’d entertain the idea, it was fun. I was slightly excited if it did happen, after all he was attractive. And I could use the kind of fun he was suggesting, considering all the stress we must both be under.

Turning in bed, I pulled my phone from under my pillow and texted Law.

You: You better be asleep old doc, because I am hitting the sac. And ignoring your last text at the same time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Shall I take that as a “no”?

You: Definitely not, but I want to know if your personality is as hot as your face, first.

You: For scientific purposes

Trafalgar Law 😷: Luckily, I did pretty well in sciences. I’ll help with your research then.

You: That means I can call you partner? Pardner 🤠 in research of a fun time

Trafalgar Law 😷: Partner of fun, if you want. Pardner, no.

You: Dagnabbit, sad cowboy noise.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I think you need sleep, partner.

You: I definitely do, good night pardner. You should sleep too, you looked fucking tired tonight.

[Trafalgar Law 😷 sent an attachment]

You: it’s pitch black?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Because I’m trying to sleep, and you keep messaging me.

You: no one’s forcing you to answer 😏 but good night pardner

Trafalgar Law 😷: Good night

I did fall asleep soon after. It was a miracle I managed to keep the conversation that long considering how tired I was and yet I was able to exchange, albeit embarrassingly, with the hot guy. I did not know why I had sent him a message- who am I kidding I know why I did that. Not only was I in that post-orgasm daze but also, this little voice in my head kept considering him as a potential something.

That something was yet to be determined, booty call? Romantic partner? Sex friend? I did not know yet, the only way to find out was that date. And perhaps, if it went well enough, the after-date part. Which I was excited about, maybe more than the date part.

This time I did not dream of the HandSurgeon, I did however have a dream about Trafalgar Law. It was not as hot as the one I had the night before… But it was something…

In that dream, I had called him out of boredom while working on some stuff, and he had picked up mildly annoyed. But even though he was annoyed, he kept me on the line while making his way to his office and closed the door behind him.

Then the mood changed, the ambiance too, the lights got slightly darker and suddenly I found myself in his office. He was leaning on his desk, arms crossed across his chest and seemingly expectant. I saw myself approach him with determination, I was but a spectator to that whole scene. I stopped right in front of him and let him grab my hands before he pulled them behind his back and turned me around so that I was now the one against the desk.

The view changed and I could see him from up close now, he was looking down at me with a smug smile. I saw his lips moving but could not comprehend what he was saying. His tattooed hand travelled to my neck, gently brushing his thumb over it before grabbing my jaw gently. He spoke again and while I did not know what he said, I felt nervous, and slightly afraid.

I tried to ask him to repeat, and maybe I did but I could not hear myself. He leaned forward and let his other hand graze the skin under my shirt before whispering. “Edelweiss… my sweet and pretty toy. So good for me.” I let my head fall back in pleasure from his touches but the constant feeling of confusion and fear only grew. I tried to understand why I was feeling like that, among the joy I felt upon hearing his word. Then it clicked.

He doesn’t know about Edelweiss- he’s not that man, he shouldn’t know.

Now I’m in my bed. Looking at a screen, I can see someone on that screen, but I can’t see it really. Then I understand who it is, HandSurgeon, but this time it’s Trafalgar Law. “You want us to be the same.”

“You wish I was real, you’re so desperate for this to happen with me, with him, we’re the same to you, Edelweiss. You should think, wake up, realize that you’re making a mistake, wake up, we can’t be the same, wake up, you just want it so bad-“

“Wake up!” I was startled awake by Nami, who was looking at me angrily, already fully dressed. “Jesus, did last night tire you that bad?” How could she know what I had done last night? She wasn’t even home- Trying to come up with anything, I was too sleepy to be embarrassed, then she spoke and cleared my mind. “You know, if I had known socializing with Traffy would tired you that much, I would have brought him over a lot sooner. Maybe you’d finally catch some real sleep.” She explained as she kept her gaze on my, probably, sleep-marks adorned face.

Sighing, she pulled the covers off my form without a second thoughts when I was unresponsive to her words. “This time you have more than 5 minutes to get ready but move your ass or I’ll leave you there. Come on, hurry.” She stopped by the door and made a compassionate face, “By the way, don’t worry, he exhausts me too. It’s the smug face and the condescending attitude that just-“ she made a sounds with her tongue against her teeth, “it ticks me off, you know?” She was gone right after.

Looking at the doorway longer than I wanted to, I started drifting off to sleep when I was startled awake once more. My phone was ringing, and I was very much aware it was not my alarm. Stretching my arm to the bed table, I grabbed my phone and was surprised when I read the screen and saw it was Trafalgar Law. I picked up in confusion, “What do you want?” With the sleepiness and the confusion, my tone ended up being a bit more aggressive than I expected.

“How about you start with good morning?” I heard him chuckle, he was probably proud of that too. Rolling my eyes, I let my head fall back on the pillow and spoke again, “Good morning, do you need something?” I sighed and pulled my covers back on my form, hearing the blinker of his car in the background I guessed he was driving and was paying more attention to the road.

“Good morning, did I perhaps wake you up?” He asked rhetorically but I could hear the smile on his lips. All I did was hum in return, still waiting for the reason he called me. “I’m free this Thursday, how does it sound for those… research?” He seemed reticent saying it, probably rolling his eyes at how stupid it sounded. Laughing in my throat in return, it was not charming but the way he said it made it too funny for my dazed state. “Too shy to call it a date? I need to check my schedule; I don’t know if I’m free.” Thinking he’d hang up, I instead heard him talk to someone before talking to me again.

“Then go ahead and check, I’ll wait.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and rummaged through something while I checked on my phone, mumbling. “Can’t you let a girl sleep? Don’t you have a work to get to?” I opened the calendar but kept grumbling while doing so, “You’re lucky I’m not hanging up to go back to sleep.” While checking my schedule, I double checked if there was a time I could be free on Thursday and heard Law scoff.

He huffed a laugh, “I think you’d have hung up by now if you did not want to talk to me, I don’t think it’s luck, but interest.” Then a sigh as he got a bit more serious, “Just answer the question, I have to get going.”

Scoffing, I brought the phone back to my ear, “You’re just a pretty face for now, Doc. Don’t bet on interest just yet. Now, I’m free around 2 pm that day, if that’s cool with you. But add like half an hour or so, it gives me time to get back home.”

“Give me the address of your campus, I’ll come and get you there.” I heard the sound of the car door being slammed closed in the background, and the rustle of a bag. “I’m not about to refuse a car ride, it’s a bit odd but thank you!” I quickly sat up, suddenly feeling excited for my plans on Thursday. “Don’t expect me to be dressed all chic though, if I have classes in the morning, it’ll be comfortable and only slightly fashion.” I said lightly as I made my way to my wardrobe to start getting dressed for the day.

“Give me a moment.” I heard the phone being moved a bit, a few muffled voices greeting the man, footsteps echoing on the ground accompanied by the hubbub of phones ringing, beeping sounds and people talking. While waiting, I was able to get dressed and go back to my desk to prepare my stuff. After a few minutes, I finally heard him. “You were talking about your clothes, to be honest as long as it’s easy to remove, we’re good.” He said smoothly, I could hear the smirk, the smugness in his voice.

I simply looked at the phone with surprise and pleasantness. That was interesting to say the least, and I was enjoying it. “You’re not saying anything, I’m assuming you agree. Good, then I’ll see you on Thursday? Don’t be afraid to send me pictures if you’re curious about what clothes to wear, I’d gladly help you pick.” I had to stand my ground, he was too smooth. Too much, too flirty, too… familiar…?

“Just for that, I’ll wear the most intricate clothes I have. Make it worth your while, you know?” While his laugh was beautiful, it was also condescending. I kept having mixt feelings about the man. “Well, if I am in a hurry, know that I am very skilled with sharp tools, and I’d have no shame in tearing your pretty clothes apart.” The sound of the creaking chair in the background made me think he was probably leaning back on his chair. A quick thought crossed my mind, of going up to him and sitting on his lap and seeing what he’d do, but I shoved that thought away.

Instead, I huffed in response and threw my bag over my shoulder. I tried to come up with a witty reply, making lame sounds with my mouth, but I had no matching energy. Even less this early in the morning. “Alright, sure, you win. I was not going to wear anything intricate anyway, even I’m too lazy for that. Casual it is, so don’t go looking all professional on me, please. I’ll feel off.”

“Put it on my desk, I’ll be there in a few- it’s an important call, I’m sure he can wait five more minutes… He doesn’t have a choice, tell him to wait… Intern or not you can tell him to wait, how else do you expect to be taken seriously? … Well, tell him I am the one who said that, then, Tony... Right, now go- And close the door behind.” I felt bad eavesdropping like that, it wasn’t a conversation I was meant to hear but it did not seem like any important information had been shared either. Except the fact that he said this was an important call when it clearly was not. It sent pride to my chest.

Walking to the kitchen, I made a motion with my index to my lips to Robin and Nami when they started talking a bit too loud. I pointed at the phone, then wiggled my fingers before drawing an invisible circle on the back of my hand. I tried very hard to make them understand it was Law, but they seemed confused. Instead, I held my phone between my shoulder and my ear and spelled Law with both of my hands. This time they understood, I knew it from the huge grin on their face.

“We got interrupted, sorry about that. If you feel intimated by a professional look, I guess we’ll have to drop by my place before going on that date. Do tell me if you’d rather I keep the medical coat-“ Cutting him off, I needed to set things straight. “Hey, I never said that was my cup of tea, okay? And I’m not intimidated, I’m sure you’re rocking the look- “ I never sighed more loudly than at this very moment when Nami snatched the phone from my hand, and said, “Alright asshole, time’s up, you’ve had time to work your charm… no I’m not doing that”

Robin butted in next to the microphone and said, “She’s all flustered, Traffy, good work!” I went to grab it back from the ginger’s hands but the stepped back and exchanged a few words with Law before handing me my phone back with a bright smile. Bringing it back to my ear, I rushed back to the corridor to avoid them eavesdropping more than they did in the kitchen.

“Sorry about them- for your outfit, wear whatever you want. I truly have no say in what you’re going to wear, plus you’ll look hot with whatever you pick so, it’s a win-win.” I quickly said, earning a laugh from the man on the other side. “I’d love to see your face right now, Robin did say you were flustered. Guess we’ll have to wait until Thursday.” He hummed, his tone having some finality to it. I knew it was my cue to hang up.

“I wasn’t flustered, I- at best embarrassed- no wait that sounds worst doesn’t it? Anyway, see you on Thursday! Have fun at work, bye.” I waited until he bid me goodbye before hanging up. As I put my phone away, I leaned against the wall and sighed, letting my head hit the wall. “Are you okay?” Robin’s soft voice reached my ears, she was making her way towards me with a slight smile. Probably feeling a bit bad for going along Nami’s childish attitude only moments ago.

Humming, I gave her a nod. But the words that followed were not matching the actions. “He’s like, very hot. And I really want to fuck him, right? But he’s also pretty funny, and good at flirting?”

Squinting her eyes, Robin asked, “Is that a question… or?”

“No, no, it’s facts and it confuses me! I was ready to just, hook up, but he could be more- I don’t know maybe I’m desperate.” I simply shrugged, leaving a silence between the black-haired woman and me.

Looking up at her, she seemed to be thinking. Then she smiled, she was always the one with good advice but also a helpless romantic. “It’s a good thing isn’t it? You don’t need to worry too much, that date of yours will help you see if you’re really interested in him or not! If not, you’ll have great sex- if yes, you’ll still have great sex, and another date.” I groaned in reply, running a hand through my hair before giving her a short nod.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just- live my life until then, I have other things to do than think of a man. By the way are you home tonight?” I asked her as we walked back to the kitchen where Nami was nowhere to be found, there was simply a piece of paper with the words ‘bring your ass to the car’.

Chuckling lightly, Robin shook her head. “I have to stay late at the library. Then Franky agreed to let me stay at his place, since it’s closer.” We talked a bit as we made our way to the door, where she wave me goodbye before closing the door gently behind me.

When I was back in the car, Nami had one of her earbuds on and was talking more gently than she’d usually talk to someone. Which means she was talking to Vivi. I did not interrupt and instead grabbed my phone and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

HandSurgeon: Are you feeling better? Don’t forget to stay hydrated, I’ll be a bit busy this week, but I can find time if you’d like.

Edelweiss: shit, just saw your message! Sorry, crazy morning. I am definitely sore, but it’s good, I can move so there’s that!

Edelweiss: Also, I might be a bit away from Wednesday to Friday, I am seeing someone and knowing how our session leave me pretty sore, I’d rather you know…

Edelweiss: be in good shape

Edelweiss: for a good fun

Edelweiss: a good fuck

This time, I did not have a prompt reply. I put my phone away and it’s only halfway through my day, while I was working on something at the library, that I received a reply from him. I’ll admit, I had been expectant the entire morning for an answer. I had been deep in textbooks for so long, I was craving for any sort of interaction, from anyone. Which explained the speed at which I unlocked my phone to see the text from HandSurgeon, and even one from Trafalgar Law.

I hesitate for a moment, then opened discord.

HandSurgeon: It’s fine, you are allowed to have a life you know. Simply tell me if you want to stop this, or not, you know… if your someone is not the one and you still need a good fuck.

HandSurgeon: I will also be busy on Thursday, I’ll try to send you a text if I get some free time.

HandSurgeon: I just finished a long meeting, would you be up for a fun game?

I stared at his messages, feeling a bit excited suddenly. But knowing myself, I would say yes, so I had to answer to Law first before spending my time sexting the stranger.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m sorry we had to cut our conversation short, how was class? I have a bit of free time, if you’d like to talk about our research meeting.

You: That’s actually pretty cute, thought you were just a horny piece of meat but damn, you surprise me.

You: I am still on campus, drowning in work. I’d love to talk, but I need to focus, text me later? 🤠

Going back on discord, I felt strange. I wanted to say yes, to play his game, but it felt wrong for some reason. I was double texting and it felt like I was cheating on a man I was not even dating. I ignored the thought and typed back.

Edelweiss: I kinda wanna know, but also really need to get back to work. So, I’ll have to decline.

Edelweiss: But I’m curious, what was the game?

HandSurgeon: It’s quite alright, I was going to suggest you’d take a pretty picture for me no matter who was around. But you are busy, so I’ll leave you be. Focus on your work. I’ll talk to you later.

HandSurgeon: But for ‘emotional support’, I’ll give you this:

HandSurgeon : [sent an attachment]

I snorted at his words, and smiled when he sent me a picture of his gloved hand gripping the wheel of his car tightly. I did comment on wearing gloves while driving, even though they were not medical gloves and it had some charm, it was very movie-like. And suspicious.

After that, I put my phone down and got lost in work. I did not even see time fly by, what informed me that it was indeed a few hours later than I thought, was the grumbling of my stomach. “I think it’s time to call it a day.” I mumbled while packing everything up. With the books put back where they belonged and my laptop tucked away, I made my way outside and was walking through the parking lot when I saw a familiar mop of hair making its way towards me.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and straightened my back before meeting his gaze and frowning in confusion. “Are you stalking me?” I patted my pockets in emphasis, before saying “Did you put a chip somewhere, or-“ Law shook his head as if I was being crazy. “Bro, it’s super super sus that you’re at my campus when I never gave you the address-“

“I asked Robin. I was going to ask Nami but she wouldn’t have given me anything.” He explained as if it was obvious.

Looking around, I opened my mouth and closes it a few times. It was a bit awkward. “Why are you here, then?” I asked, still confused, my eyes squint in suspicion.

“Right- give me a moment.” He turned around and took a few long strides to get to his car and get something from the passenger seat before coming back. Even though his steps were hurried, there was still this elegance to it that I could not ignore.

“I am very familiar with long hours of studying, so here’s a drink and some food. I used to skip meals, because I’d get too much into it. Don’t do that, eat.” While what he said seemed caring, he was not smiling or anything. But the gesture was so sweet I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s very nice of you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear jokingly in faux-shyness before going back to a normal demeanor. “But I was going home. I was done for the day, here,” I handed it back to him before trying to find my wallet in my bag. “Let me, just- how much do I owe you?”

He stopped me from rummaging through my back and ruffled my hair before handing me the drink and food back. “Nothing, I was passing by. Now I am sure to not get lost when I’ll come and get you on Thursday.” He winked, then looked back at his watch a moment. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, before looking up at me. “Would you like me to drop you off at your house? I have a bit of time before going back to work.” He asked kindly, showing me his keys as if trying to coo me.

“Maybe you should go eat too? I’ll take the bus, it’s alright.” Smiling, the man pointed at his car with a certain pride. “Oh don’t worry, I got myself something too. It could be our first lunch date, you are so bent on traditions, so why not lunch?”

I felt my cheeks heat up and pushed him playfully, careful not to spill the drink I had in my hand. “I’m not bent on traditions, I just barely know you, doc.” I looked to the side and shrugged before walking past him, “Let’s get lunch.” I said over my shoulder. I heard the man laugh in the back, then the jingle of keys.

I tried to open the door but found it locked. I stated the obvious, “I can’t get in if it’s locked.” I was about to complain more, when he leaned over his side of the car and grinned. “Ask politely, and I’ll let you in.” I hated him, but the smile on my face was a betrayal of how I really felt. He was a little shit, but it was still fun. Rolling my eyes, I mimicked his action and rested my arms on the roof of the car, “Could you please unlock the car, doc?” “Good girl, was it that hard?”

I turned my head towards him so fast I may have pulled a muscle in my neck, but the way he said it made it a lot more than just a nickname. He was testing the waters for something, and I had given him the exact reaction he wanted. “What, do I call you daddy now?” I said sarcastically while getting inside the car and buckling my seatbelt while he held everything before placing them back on my lap.

“Not my thing, but I’m sure we’ll get to that conversation later.” He smirked as he put something in the glove box before closing it back and meeting my intense gaze as he leaned back on his seat. I was observing each and everyone of his action, feeling out of place in his car. I had met the man last night, but for some reason he felt familiar. Perhaps it was his aura, perhaps he was just that reassuring. No, clearly not, he looks threatening… “Something on your mind? I don’t know if you’re looking at me like you want kill me or fuck me,” Extending his hand towards me, he placed his index under my chin and lifted it, I quickly grabbed his hand like last time to stop him.

“Maybe both, maybe none-“ With a short smile, he interrupted me, “Don’t be like that, I’ll ask differently. Are you uncomfortable? I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m trying to take it slow…ish.” He admitted. I could see on his face he was feeling just as sheepish as I was. Clasping my hands on my lap I chuckled nervously, “I’m good, I was just…. Observing. You’re doing good, simply put…” I trailed off and met his gaze with a playful grin, “Ye’re a looker pardner,” I then tipped my non-existent hat, which made him laugh genuinely.

“You were just in awe?” He asked a bit surprised, hiding his bashfulness behind a laugh. “Exactly, take the compliment and don’t mention it again. Now drive, or you’ll get back late at work.” I huffed, looking at the window with warm cheeks. I felt a pull at my hand and looked at it confused, “I’d love to, but you’re still holding my hand.” I quickly let go and threw his hand back at him, “It was to make sure you weren’t going to do the whole,” Making a gesture with my hands in the air, wiggling my fingers, I continued, “Chin thing again.”

Even though he agreed, only giving me a curt nod along with a “Right.”, I could see the smile on his face as he started the car. Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I matched his smile discretely as I looked back at the road.

The volume of the music wasn’t loud, I could hear the fabric of his coat as he maneuvered, the blinkers, my own nervous heartbeat. There was no reason for me to feel so nervous, we were just going to eat lunch then go our separate way. To try to calm down, I rummaged through my brain for topics to talk about, small talks was fun in social events but in one on one, it was a fucking disaster.

Do you have any pets? Do you like cats? Maybe talk about his job? How long did he study? Or funny topics, less social, more creative? Politics is off the table, it’s not that great of a first date conversation. What’s your favourite colour? What part of your body to your prefer-

I blurted out a question to try to fill the silence. And fuck did I regret it, I shouldn’t be allowed to speak when in that state, but it was too late. “So… what’s your favourite body part?” Wait, no, fuck, not…

[Part 6]

#trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #physicalturian #words of pleasure #wop #fanfiction #one piece #law one piece #law x reader #ao3 #ao3 writer #physicalturian AO3 #writing #writings

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lalainajanes · 3 years

Text

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn��t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * *

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

#klarosummerbingo #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

Text

i can’t focus when you’re with me (i can’t sleep when i’m alone)

hello i wrote some jalex because i had XO by nightly stuck in my head and this came from that

thank you @tirednotflirting and @reveriesofawriter for the love i love you guys so much all the time

title from XO by nightly

read it here on ao3

It’s on a pink sticky note on the fridge.

back soon. xo

The sign-off is familiar. The sticky note is also familiar, though Alex doesn’t really see why Jack leaves them anymore. There’s no point to the sticky note when Alex already knows Jack will be back and is no closer to figuring out his system for deciding when. Maybe there is no system. Maybe he truly just appears whenever he feels like it.

Alex knows about variable-ratio reward schedules; he knows how the lottery works, promising an eventual reward and paying up just often enough to maintain the ruse. He isn’t an idiot. He can understand he’s not really winning the lottery when he spends every single night wondering if this will be the one Jack decides to grace him with his presence. One victory is nothing when it’s borne of a thousand failures. But Alex will take one night with Jack for two weeks without, and Jack knows that, too.

So maybe Alex is an idiot, but it’s worth it to be. Nights spent with Jack are some of Alex’s favorites. Mornings waking up without him are just an occupational hazard.

Jack doesn’t belong to him. That was never part of the agreement.

The spontaneity of Jack’s visits also cause a lot of problems in Alex’s life. He can’t plan his work around Jack when Jack has no schedule. And if Jack shows up while Alex is in the middle of something, forget it. As soon as the lock clicks and the door swings open — as soon as Alex hears the familiar footsteps and the toneless humming of Jack’s entrance — everything else becomes static.

It’s distracting. It’s infuriating. It’s intoxicating.

A cool breeze edging on warm sweeps through Alex’s open window tonight. He has a textbook open on the desk and his laptop beside it. The contents of the textbook are entirely failing to stick in Alex’s brain, and he doubts taking notes is helping in any way. It’s important that he learn this, especially when they’re moving on so swiftly from this section of the material; Alex can already foresee the late night he’s going to have trying to reteach this chapter to himself once he finishes reading it.

Three excruciating pages later, Alex decides the textbook can wait for a cup of tea.

It’s quiet around Alex’s place as he treks into the kitchen to put the water on. It’s quiet more often than not these days, as Alex has gotten more and more entrenched in his coursework. He’s had less time to play music. When he has free hours now, he typically uses them to sleep. It’s not an exciting life, but it’s the one he needs to lead so he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion at any given moment.

Still, the staticky hiss from the kettle as it starts to boil is comforting. Alex leans against the counter with his eyes closed, somehow simultaneously trying to refresh his memory on everything he just spent two and a half hours reading and trying not to think about that. As much as he knows he needs a break from all the studying, he’s not sure he can really afford it.

Naturally, this is when the lock clicks and the humming starts.

Alex’s eyes fly open. He stares out across the kitchen. The kettle finally reaches a loud conclusion and clicks to let Alex know it’s officially done boiling the water. And through the open doorway, an off-key rendition of ‘American Idiot’ announces Jack’s presence.

He’s humming the guitar solo. Of course.

Warring parts of Alex’s brain fight to react to this unexpected arrival. He wants to groan, because this is the worst time Jack could have fucking chosen, on tonight of all nights. He’d like to spin Jack by the shoulders and push him back out the door where he’d come in before he gets too comfortable. Sorry, not tonight, too much stuff to do that I can’t afford to let you distract me from, he’d love to say.

But the other part of him is imagining pushing Jack by the shoulders against a very much closed door, and Alex, in his weary state, isn’t disciplined enough to ignore that thought.

Jack won’t come into the kitchen — he says it’s too domestic for him. Alex pretends he hasn’t heard the door open and close and makes himself a cup of tea anyway, fully prepared for it to go cold. Maybe Jack will understand if Alex lays it out for him. Maybe if Jack sees the textbook he’ll latch on.

Not that Alex thinks Jack doesn’t understand how much work Alex has. Jack is an intelligent person. He knows. It’s just he doesn’t care.

And Alex has to take some responsibility, because it’s not like he’s trying very hard to express that it matters to him if he passes his classes. When Jack shows up, Alex gives up. He could try harder to focus on his work, to send Jack away, but he doesn’t want to. He likes when Jack is here. He’d just like it not to overlap with nights when he has an entire textbook chapter to read, memorize, and internalize.

Steam is rising off Alex’s mug like wispy cirrus clouds. He brings it to his lips, burns his tongue taking a sip, and sighs.

Jack is sitting in Alex’s desk chair when Alex finally returns to his room.

He looks up with bright eyes when he sees Alex come in. “Hi, finally.” As he clocks the mug: “Ooh, whatcha drinkin’? Did you make me any?”

“Tea, and no,” Alex says. “I made it for me, because I’m trying to study.”

“Operative word being try,” Jack says.

“Yeah, and hopefully soon I will be succeeding,” Alex says. He’s not sure why he insists on pretending to refuse Jack when they both know with one hundred percent certainty that this is not what Alex wants nor a hill he plans to die on. For his own dignity, though, he has to at least look like he’s making the effort to be responsible. “You wanna learn about childrens’ development in their first year of life?”

“Such a hard no from me,” Jack says. “But be real. Do you want to learn about that?”

“No,” Alex says. “But I have to.”

Jack sighs. He holds out a hand and Alex places his mug in Jack’s grip. “What’s this? The usual?” Alex nods. Jack brings it to his lips, barely drinking any before exhaling harshly. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Yeah, I just made it. As you came in.”

“You want me to go?”

Alex sighs. “Obviously I don’t want you to go. I’d love to get some advance notice for when you’re gonna show up, though. Tonight’s such a bad night.”

“Tonight’s a bad night so far,” Jack corrects him, setting the mug down on Alex’s desk. It’s dangerously close to the laptop; Alex nudges it further away, and Jack just shakes his head a little, smiling.

“I mean tonight is a bad night for you to be here,” Alex clarifies.

“Then I’ll leave.”

“But I don’t want you to leave.”

“So I’ll stay.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll be distracted.”

Jack shrugs. “I’m honestly okay with that.”

“I’ll be distracted from my work,” Alex says, although he’s sure Jack had understood the first time. “By you. Like always.”

“And I’m okay with that too.” Jack tilts his head, stretching his neck to look up at Alex, deliberately baring his throat. He drives Alex insane, in whatever way is most accurate to the moment. Alex wishes he had more self-control, but thinking about turning Jack away and instead spending several more hours at a desk reading page after page of information he won’t absorb makes him want to cry.

And it would be rude, after all this time, to mess with the rules of the game. Jack shows up expecting that Alex will surrender, and Alex being taken aback and generally inconvenienced by this is all part of the guidelines for playing. He signed his agency away the first time he kissed Jack against the door. It’s too late to ask for it back.

(It’s not really too late — if Alex wanted it, he’d have it. He just doesn’t want it.)

Alex holds up one finger and with his other hand he lifts the mug to his lips. It’s still too hot to drink but he lets the liquid scald the tip of his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he swallows.

“You could call me,” he says.

“I don’t have your number,” Jack says.

“You could ask for it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“It’d make my life a lot easier.”

“But way less exciting.” Jack stands up, and he’s taller than Alex, and he’s so close now that Alex can count his eyelashes as they flutter shut and then quickly open again. “You can’t plan for everything, Alex.”

“Okay, I realize that, but I could definitely plan for you,” Alex returns. “Like if you just told me when you wanted to come over I could plan for that to happen. Instead of just appearing out of nowhere and—”

“What, ruining your night?” Jack casts his gaze to the open textbook. He looks back at Alex, quietly smirking. “I’m so sorry for distracting you from the absolutely fascinating timeline of child development.”

“Yeah, you should be.”

“Alex, this is a rescue mission.” Jack’s fingers land feather-light on Alex’s wrist and travel up his arm, pushing his sleeve up to his shoulder and bracing against the slope of his neck. His grip tightens as he massages the tense muscles under his fingertips. “I’m like your guardian angel. I show up when I can tell you need saving.”

“Saving from the horrors of developmental psychology?” Alex mutters, posture slipping like a landslide. Nobody on the planet can ease the tension permanently at home in Alex’s shoulders, but Jack is welcome to try.

“Yes,” Jack says seriously. “From the horrors of developmental psychology. And because I can literally feel the tension in your shoulders. When’s the last time you relaxed?”

Last time you were here, is Alex’s real answer. “I’m not clear on the relevance of this.”

Jack frowns. “I don’t want you to be stressed.”

“Then stop showing up out of the blue,” Alex huffs.

“Really? I’m the biggest stressor in your life?" Jack sounds genuinely incredulous at this.

“No, you’re not.” Alex sighs, looking anywhere except Jack’s face. “But you’re not not a stressor. You know I’m busy. You know I like to have a schedule. A little warning goes a long way.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. His fingers dig into Alex’s skin, working muscles that ache under his firm touch. It feels improbably good for something that kind of hurts. Alex closes his eyes.

“Forget I said that,” he mumbles. “We’re not gonna get anywhere. I’ve made my peace with it. You’re just going to be absolutely unpredictable and I’m just gonna be fine with it, I guess, because I like when you’re here, even if you never want to tell me when that’s going to be. It’s fine.”

Jack’s hands still. “I just think you’re overthinking it. I’m not complicated, Alex. I’m so easy. This is easy. If it were that important to you, you would kick me out, and I’d go. But you never do.” He resumes his massage, this time on the back of Alex’s neck. “You’re always working. And I’m here on a rescue mission, like I said. To keep you from drowning in it. It’s just a question of if you’re willing to be rescued.”

Alex groans. Even he’s not sure if it’s from the frustration of knowing he won’t get through anything else tonight or an effect of Jack’s halfway massage, though he figures it’s probably both. They’ve exhausted this topic and they’re making no progress. Alex is out of patience.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Rescue me.”

Jack’s warm hands move to Alex’s face, and he’s still smiling a little bit when their lips meet.

The sticky note is gone from the fridge. Alex is not surprised.

Sleep is still clinging to him, weighing from every limb. There’s a stiffness in his neck that has returned from wherever Jack apparently banished it to last night. Out the window, a blanket of clean morning light covers everything it can reach. Inside, a blanket is still dragging on the floor around Alex’s shoulders.

It’s when he’s reaching for the kettle that he remembers his cup of tea.

The blanket drags behind him as Alex treks back to his room, and there he halts in confusion. The mug is gone. He’d definitely left it here last night, and now it’s not here anymore. It had been completely full and now it’s missing.

Huh.

Alex glances at the textbook, open to exactly the page he’d left it at the night prior. There’s a pink sticky note he’d failed to notice earlier.

good luck, this seems boring as hell. xo

p.s. put your tea in the fridge xoxo

A smile crawls into the corners of Alex’s mouth and stays there.

He returns to the kitchen and finds his mug of tea in the fridge, as promised. There’s aluminum foil over the top, which seems pointless but a nice gesture. A confusingly nice gesture. Why is Jack changing the rules of the game all of a sudden? It’s unusual for him to move anything around, for him to leave any indication of his presence other than one single sticky note stuck somewhere for Alex to find.

Now, not only has he moved Alex’s tea, but there’s another sticky note. Alex finds it on top of the mug.

you’re cute when you sleep. xo

Alex stares at the piece of paper until his fridge starts beeping at him that the door has been open too long. He pulls the mug from the fridge and closes it. And then he stares some more. What is happening? What is Jack doing? Is this just going to be another new rule to which Alex is oblivious?

As the microwave reheats last night’s tea — Alex wondering as it spins how Jack had known that Alex is the kind of person to reheat the tea rather than toss it and make a new cup — Alex shuffles into the bathroom to splash some water on his face and deem himself presentable for the day.

And there, on the bathroom mirror, is another pink sticky note.

It reads:

I want to make your life easier. no pressure. xo

Underneath the words, there’s a phone number.

Alex smiles.

#jack barakat #alex gaskarth #jalex #jalex fic #all time low #atl fic #fic #my fic #im so sorry about the tea thing #guys i am 100% alex in this fic #and do you know how much i would kill to have someone just randomly show up at my door #and give me a massage #im literally dying #anyway #enjoy this #i figured id make it a real post because. yknow. fuck it why not i have the time #i have so much free time now that i dont have to worry about fic exchange #mmmmmmmm

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danideservedbetter · 2 years

Text

Day 245

As you can see I’m once again posting late lol but. I let myself go to sleep at like 5 yesterday and sleep til noon then my mom and Mawmaw took me grocery shopping so. We were supposed to go out for Mawmaw’s birthday but that collapsed because my gm family is terrible at planning and they’re going tomorrow which I absolutely can’t do, so it’s probably for the best. I just needed the rest, I think. As much as keeping a strict schedule has improved my productivity (and I do mean improved as much as I complain) it might do me well to like. Let my disorder win in a sense ig because I don’t have a normal internal indicator of being tired like most people so idk when I’m overdoing it. I guess that’s something to talk to my therapist about when I see her.

But after 13 hours of sleep I’m feeling ok. Less painful, less stressed (because sleep deprivation does do that despite me sleeping an average of ten hours a night). Today since I’m here I’d really like to catch up on school assignments (French work and a short paper on Huckleberry Finn, which I enjoyed much more than I thought I would??). Then I have some podfic work to do (we have some very fun projects coming up). Lastly. Write. Maybe?? We’ll see 😂😂 I’m liking what I have better than what I did have so hopefully I can get through this part quicker now.

Full day tomorrow due to fic review but I’m also queuing some stuff to read since I’ve um. Well, I’ve been saying I would take rest days, then utterly failed to, so I think I really need to start lol. And I’m gonna start with reading some fic, ofc!

Hope everyone has a decently relaxing weekend. Lord knows I’ve needed it.

#goal post

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mira--mira · 3 years

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Question from an aspiring writer:

How do you stay motivated on one project for such a long time?

I personally have the attention span of a goldfish, and whenever I have an idea I either have to write down everything my brain can spew immediately or have it be lost in the void for eternity.

Never mind going back and turning my outline into a fic or gasp editing.

Do you have any tips and/or tricks you use?

Ok, I got completely carried away with this just fyi, but hopefully I ended up answering your actual question 😂 tl;dr at the bottom.

To be honest, staying motivated is a tricky thing, one that I feel I'm still learning how to do even now and varies a bit between shortfics/oneshots and multi-chaptered fics/longfics. For a bit of background, I've been writing fanfic for about a year and a half, but I've been writing original fiction since I was seven, over a decade and a half, and I still wrestle with it. It's definitely a learning process.

One thing I wish someone would have told me when I was starting out was the power of ~scenes~ in either multi-chapters or one-shots. All writing is ultimately made up of scenes, but if you're struggling to put things together, focusing on an individual scene, or multiple short scenes, might help you focus on getting something completed, and it's something that eventually can be applied to longer works as well. Writing has been a snowball process for me and once I started getting anything completed, I felt more secure in knowing what I could write comfortably and what was out of my comfort zone, eventually getting to the point where I felt comfortable tackling bigger and longer projects and knowing I could stay with them.

OoT's interlude chapters and the snippet series are both good examples of scenes because I wrote them with that intention...even if most of them are actually two or three scenes combined. "Gai meets Hashirama and Madara", "Hashirama gets revenge on Kakashi", "Tatsuki and Hashirama pick flowers for Madara, then give them to him" etc. were all my starting points.

If you're first starting out and feel comfortable with outlines of some sort before you start writing I would encourage you to try and write down a bullet point list of your scene(s) and what you know you want to happen in it.

"Gai meets Hashirama and Madara"

* Hashirama meets Gai first, mistakes him for Lee.

* Madara is shopping for a gift for Hashirama

* Madara finds Gai and Hashirama, they spar, Gai kicks his ass, both of them love him.

This is how my initial outline looked for the first interlude chapter, technically each one of these "points" are their own scenes stuck together. Outlining is different for everyone, some people like super specific points, others even less detail than this. For me this is a nice middle that gives me a roadmap for the chapter, but allows plenty of room to naturally diverge and add detail. Play around with outlines and see what you're comfortable with/what gives you the best results.

I'm not sure of your individual situation, but if you're struggling to put together fics in general something like this might help. Doing this process again and again personally helps me stay on track and gives me a sense of progress.

This sense of progress is ultimately key and why I think motivation differs slightly between one-shots/short fics and longfics. If you confine the individual scene to a one-shot, that might give you the motivation to complete it. Even if you start writing and you get interrupted/can't finish having in one setting, bullet points sometimes help inspire me to finish because I'm not starting from scratch when I return to writing. The whole "eat an elephant one piece at a time" thing was difficult for me to learn, but ultimately proved true. Learning to chip away at something bit by bit is going to be the only (healthy) way to write longer projects you can't complete in one sitting.

For longer projects, it's a similar beast just on bigger levels and with an added dimension. I would actually suggest something similar to OoT for a starting project because it is ultimately broken up into arcs that you know and can reference, instead of making a lot of og content for a fan setting. Maybe not go into it thinking, 'I'll do a complete rewrite' but once you feel like you're ready for a longer project 30K+ or so, the rough outline method and the ability to follow arcs was what got me started when I eventually decided to make the fic multi-chaptered. Try writing one arc and keep yourself contained in that. Now the added dimension aspect in general for longfics is that you eventually want to plot individual chapters in a multi-chaptered longfic and individual arcs (character, plot, etc). This comes with practice. I honestly don't think there's a way to get around that. It's something that I'm still trying to work on and I can look back at my early work and see how I've improved, how I can recognize where things didn't go well in certain places, and how I would change them if I was writing today. That's a good thing to be able to do, it means you've grown! The other thing I find that helps with staying motivated week after week for longer projects is to roughly know where you're going and to try to be excited about a plot point/scene/chapter/etc that you're going to write. Really try to hype yourself up. For me, it's a moment that comes at the very end of the chunin arc and I start grinning even thinking about it because I know it's going to be awesome. It's always what gets me through the rough days, imagining the moment I'll get to actually write that scene in its entirety (it's definitely already outlined and I mentally play it out at least twice a week lol) and is a big motivating drive.

So far I think this is pretty standard stuff if you're an outliner and you've been writing for a few years, but the other thing motivational-wise for me is having a schedule. From reading this message alone, I would not suggest it for you right away. Get comfortable finishing small things and feeling confident that if you let an idea sit for a week or two, you can pick it back up and continue. But if you eventually dip your toes into longfics (and don't plan to pre-write everything before you publish) that routine and rhythm really helps keep me going. I've made a commitment, I've posted it online, I'm going to stick to it. No one is going to jump down my throat if I fail to keep it (this is still a hobby and having fun is the most important thing) but in my mind I should commit to it unless something irl prevents me from doing so. Don't put a tight deadline on yourself, I'd start with once a month or if you write shorter chapters every three weeks. This also would help you build up and get a readership, interaction being another big motivational key.

Also, it's important to accept that sometimes you bite off more than you can chew, and when you feel completely demotivated from a fanfic project...it's okay to drop it. It's okay to take a step back and work on something else. Maybe you'll come back to it, maybe you won't. If you can, try to pinpoint what it was about that project that made you demotivated, were you pushing yourself too much and you got burnt out, was it an ongoing series and your interest for canon lagged and so did the fic, was it just too stressful to keep juggling plotpoints, etc. and keep that in mind moving forward. Every experience can be a learning one and eventually make you a better writer that can eventually tackle those bigger projects. Don't be afraid to take on big aspirational projects, but don't walk into them blind either. Above all, and this is repeated a lot because it's true, enjoy what you write. Some days you might not. That's true with anything, but any project you take on the good should outweigh the bad.

This is my wrap up of the motivational section but I also wanted to throw my two-cents in about editing because "oh no editing" is a perspective I've seen from a lot of writers, and used to have myself, but I think is going to stifle your progress in the long run.

Here's the thing: you need to look forward to editing.

You don't have to be jumping for joy, but editing, imo, should be a positive thing. You have all these great ideas, you made it into a fic, something you wrote, and now you get to go back and make it even better! This is a tough attitude to adopt. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. It took me a long time to unlearn the negative attitude and even then sometimes I still wish the editing was already done once I type in the last period. But I've learned to at least appreciate what editing does and I try to think to myself as I'm going through and making changes things like "wow, this suddenly became so much better. X plot point that I thought of ten pages from now is suddenly being hinted at and doesn't come out of left field. The transition points are a lot cleaner, it's not so jarring anymore. I bet the readers are going to love this little detail. Here's some foreshadowing that I hope someone picks up bc it's going to come back in like 5 chapters from now" it's hard, especially when you start, but this is something you made, and now are actively making better and that's something to celebrate.

I hope this helps anon! I know it's a lot and I'm by no means an expert but I've been doing this for more than a decade because I love it and I want to help others get into writing to! I have no problem answering any writing questions you may have if you find this helpful!

tl;dr

-motivation is slightly different between short/long fics.

-starting out, learn to outline by scenes and focus on finishing small projects and getting to a point where you feel like you can put something down and come back and pick it up again in a week. Completion is key and will help you feel satisfied/know your limits.

-long projects also can work on the scene-to-scene outline but now with individual chapters and individual arcs. It's tough to balance both but comes with practice. Bit-by-bit is key, as is having 'one moment you can't wait to write', possibly a schedule if it works for you, and reader feedback are all huge long-term motivational points.

-editing is tough but learn to look forward to it instead of dreading it.

edited: added a bit more/few typos fixed

#asks #anon #writing advice #god i hope this is understandable #long post

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askthesandershouse · 3 years

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The Sanders House slowly returns!

Hello hello! After months of hiatus due to classes I am slowly making a return! This comes with some changes, so please click below for all the info on those! They will all be added to the about page + the about post as well later this evening. I hope these updates will be ok, tysm for reading and for sticking around! 💙 :-)

Update 1: the Schedule, Posting, and Art Quality

I learned many a thing from running this blog for the short time I have (in active periods that is), which is my brain/mental health does not cooperate very well with me and the blog in terms of schedules. The posting I was doing before was becoming stressful because I have a tendency to rush myself to not keep people waiting. In an effort to not force myself into another long hiatus I'm going to take more time with posts.

This is to not only reduce my stress but also hopefully put more quality into the art on the blog! I rushed myself a lot before when making the art for my posts, so I want to slow down and not rush so much this time around. This means posting may not be every single day, or even every 2 days. I am going to try being schedule free for now and post on my own terms. This doesn't mean weeks between posts, I just may be posting once or twice a week instead. I apologize for less posts per week, but I do want to try not to kill the blog as best I can :")

If having no set schedule is not a good solution after trying it out, I will work on a schedule to get on track again and find one that best fits me. Of course if this is the case you'll get another update.

This will also keep my motivation for the blog up in general, which segues us into new thing 2-

Update 2: Weak Motivation and ADHD Strangling my Brain

I hyperfixate a lot bc of my adhd, and for quite a while my main fixation has been multiple things that are not Sanders. Which was making me worry about wether or not I'd actually be able to return/continue the blog. But I don't want that to happen! The fact this blog lasted a week is a miracle and an achievement for me jhfkhf

The solution is not going to effect this blog! However, for those who follow my art blog this means the content over there will focus on those things instead and I will likely keep TSS content to this one! I'm not making a post over there since this kind of update is really only suited for this blog, so I want to mention it here in case.

This does mean however that if I have behind the scenes sketches I want to post, I will be posting them here! I posted the sketches for a few panels from this blog on my art blog in the past, but as a lil something extra for you guys over here I want to post those here from now on.

Update 3: Not rlly an Update, but When are Asks Open Again?

I am going to take a few days to settle back into my normal art process before opening up the box to character Qs. I need to find my groove again before hoping back into making posts, especially since I still need to get the groove for all of my non ask blog related stuff as well. I haven't been able to make tons of other content for my main accounts/personal stuff either so the next few days I am going to settle and get back into my art rhythm!

This is exactly why this is a kind of slow return, but I assure you I will be open again soon. I will make a post to let you all know when the ask box opens to character questions again, so check the pinned post within the next few days if you miss it! This will be pinned until then, but I will switch it out once I'm open for business!

Update 4: Doodle Days? Mini Events??

Every so often I thought it would be nice to do some sort of quick ask and/or doodle days. Basically the idea is while I'm working on the regular asks I could occasionally open a small event for a few hours where people can ask all of the characters stuff. They would be in the form of either quick lil doodles or just text. Most likely will be doodles tbh.

Its just a lil one shot type thing to interact with while I'm working on the regular stuff! This is also a way to ask for any of the characters without waiting until its their turn in the spotlight. This won't be all the time, again I don't wanna over work especially if I have other projects going on besides asks. But I think every so often doing something like this would be fun!

That's all the updates for now!

Thank you all so so much for your patience and for sticking around! Its very much appreciated and means a lot 💙 I hope the schedule (or lack thereof) changes aren't too bothersome, but I do think this will help me function better!

Stay safe, drink some water, and I hope you're all have a good day/night 💙💙💙 :-)

#updates #bulletin #ooc

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kuroosweakness · 3 years

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Hi Lia! Hope you are doing well. I don't know if you are taking requests at the moment, but before I blabber out anything let me just tell you that your blog is one of my comfort blogs, like whenever I feel dejected (which is often), I just come to your Kuroo writings and get a fresh dose of serotonin, endorphins, oxytocin, dopamine, no matter how many times I re-read them.

Okay so here's the thing! It's kind of comfort/self-indulgent of sorts. So, like the scenario is that the reader is insecure that maybe they are too smart, studious/nerdy and independent for Kuroo. Like normally they are indifferent and doesn't even bother what is happening around, but at times they feel slightly sad when all the girls flock around Kuroo, to help them with studies or any other tasks. They know very well that some of them purposely come to him to see him and to spend time with him (Like he is so charismatic!!). But Kuroo being a sweet and helpful senior can never deny them. So reader has thoughts like "I wish I were dumb and stupid", which of course somehow Kuroo gets to know and consoles them. Like you know saying stuff like "I love your beautiful mind", "only you can find the stupid faults in my pickup lines", "genuinely laugh at my chemistry jokes", "you are my partner-in-crime" etc etc.

Feel free to shorten this request and add more characters if you feel like, as per your convenience but I am not over with my rant yet. I hope you won't mind, I just needed to vent out.

So basically the thing is I am a NERD and there are many reasons on why I love Kuroo but most importantly I feel like I could have mentally stimulating conversations with him since he is an officially recognized chem dork by the fandom. And um since I am passionate about chemistry along with every other subject under the sky (Nerd things, yeah!), so you know. But usually in most of the fics it is shown that the reader is not good at studies, and asks him for help and him being cheeky, and helping the reader out by tutoring them, like nothing wrong in that but at times I feel left out because I honestly don't need any help with my homework or any tutoring in study dates. I am at top of my work even though I procrastinate a lot. How about discussing cool stuff about the subjects that we study over such sessions? Another pathetic thing that I have observed is this disastrous pick up line used in Kuroo fics (I am sorry if you have ever mentioned it or liked it. I don't mean to hurt you) is that - "Are you a compound made up of Beryllium and Barium because you are a total BaBe"..... Like ughhhh give me a break! Beryllium and Barium have the same oxidation state of +2 , so they can't really combine to form a compound duhhh!!! Or maybe I don't know, probably Kuroo won't like a smart or studious s/o?

Anyways, I am sorry if I wasted your time and thank you if you read all of it. Sending you loads of love and take no stress. You have the complete liberty to not write this request and if you choose to write this then thank you so much <3 <3

omg hi there! i get where you're coming from!! and to answer your question, he'd most definitely love having a nerdy s/o who'll geek out over things that stimulates his brain! to be able to have complex talks and arguments with you is one of his favorite past times :) he'll talk about the things that he wonders about to you and whenever he comes across a trick question/puzzle, he'll go to you like "can you figure this out? i've been stuck on it for ages!"

and if you figure it out easily, he'll be dumbfounded ahahha

i'm very very glad that this is a comfort blog for you :' in all honesty, it's a comfort blog for me too. it feels wonderful to be able to have a platform where i can share my thoughts and interact with others who have the same ideas

about the scenario, i'd be happy to write it! but firstly, do not ever wish you're dumb and dependent >:( whaaa the things i'd trade for your brain???

- your independence and intelligence are traits that kuroo looks up to. although you're already his s/o, your independence gives him chances to seek your attention and love, all while having the reassurance that you love him already. he can have fun teasing you and chasing after you for affection, all while knowing he'll get the love back!

i don't know if this is making sense lol but kuroo wouldn't fall behind or cling onto you, instead find his own ways to turn your independence into something he finds a lot of joy in. and also because he's quite independent and busy himself, he totally understands you!

and yes, there will most likely be a flock of girls (and guys 👀) lined up outside his door to spend time with him (kuroo and his charismatic charms that are too good for their own sake) he makes it quite clear that's he's already taken and has zero interest in them besides helping out! but also, getting other peoples' attention does feel good, so his schedule involves a lot of tutoring and helping others.

except it's not a pretty sight when you walk into the library where you're supposed to meet him, and see the close proximity between him and the girl he's "tutoring"

who said that he doesn't need your help?? help goes both ways!! kuroo would go to you and seek your help and attention :) and also because he likes to have an excuse to spend time with you, all while understanding the concepts he's been struggling with!

if you ever have those "i wish i was dumb and stupid" thoughts, (which 1. you should literally NEVER BE HAVING) then kuroo would likely notice *somehow*

idk it's like his 6th sense...to connect actions and facial expressions with thoughts. he'll teasingly tell you "if you didn't have that brain and personality of yours, who'll i go to for help? you're supposed to be my plan A here"

no but seriously, what'll he ever do without you? you're making him feel *negative feelings* when you have those thoughts!

and so the conversation will turn into him covering your face in small kisses. he'll hold the sides of your face and stare at the top of your head, saying something ridiculous like "i'd kiss your brain too if i could"

and of course, you'll nudge him and he'll laugh.

you're genuinely the only one he loves giving those pick-up lines and complex jokes, mostly because 1. he loves your laugh 2. you're the only one who understands! you two will have many, many inside jokes that no one else knows about, and he thinks that's special

also, less and less girls will start going to him for help after he keeps dropping those "yeah no problem...review on monday? sorry 'bout that, i'm hanging out with my s/o that day"

or "oh, it's okay to not understand this. i didn't know what was going on until my s/o taught it to me"

~~~

YES having mentally stimulating conversations with him!!!! deep talks!! not only would you be able to have deep and complex convos with him, but also light hearted ones about movie characters, songs...he's a very open-minded person and that's what i love about him :'

how. are. you. so. smart. and. on. top. of. things. gimme ur skills and motivations D:

although you don't need tutoring on study dates, kuroo would search up difficult problems that requires a lot of critical thinking and *poof* hopefully, you'll be stuck and he'll feel all proud for knowing something you don't (bonk him on the head for me)

but if you do figure it out, he'll be like o_o the whole rest of the study date

RIGHT !! BaBe does not work together lollll (omg i've never thought about their oxidation states :0) but it's still a cute joke in a way :)

but yeah, i don't like those scientific jokes very much either. they get old after a while D:

if kuroo ever drops that joke on you, tell him to do better and he'll laugh and walk away, later trying to think of a better and accurate one

wdym kuroo won't like a studious s/o ?!!!! OF COURSE HE WOULD

~~~

no time wasted here! :) i hope my insights and thoughts were good enough because i didn't really do much writing :'D again, kuroo would be head over heels for you. *sends a handful of love and me and my neighborhood stray cat that reminds me of kuroo* <33

#lia convos

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nooneactuallyasked · 3 years

Text

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 8

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 2,560

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: This one is really long- the next part will be out tomorrow so be ready for that! Enjoy!

Edit: I FORGOT THE TAGLIST I’M SO SORRYYYYY!!!!!!

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Part 4 here Part 5 here Part 6 here

Part 6.5 here Part 7 here

---

“Hey, Diner Gal.”

Y/N smiled at the floor before turning around to face her surprise visitor, “How’s it hanging, Leather Boy?” She probably wouldn’t admit it out loud but Reggie’s random visits were probably the main reason why Y/N had been arriving at work extra early and leaving extra late. “Alright, Julie is kinda freaking out and getting Flynn to help her pick an outfit and then Flynn freaks out and gets Julie to help her decide on a theme for the marketing stuff. You?” Y/N shrugged, “The usual.”

“So, what can I do you for?” Reggie looked down, a red flush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “Well, I kinda wanted to just hang out because Julie and Luke are “writing some songs” but we all know it’s just a date and Alex is with Willie and I’m willing to bet my left sock that they’re on a date too and I didn’t wanna be alone so I thought that you’re really nice so I came here.” A smile danced on Y/N’s lips and her gaze softened, he was too sweet and just hearing his voice made her cheeks heat up slightly. Reggie’s eyes widened and he met her gaze, a horrified expression painting his face, “Unless you’re busy, sorry, I’ll- I’ll just go-“

“Woah, Reg, chill out. I’ve just got to plan out the way we’re gonna decorate the room on Friday. Plus, I like having you around, it makes my job a lot less boring.” Y/N smiled before grabbing a black notebook an opening it to a new page, she scribbled down a title so she’d remember what it was for before bullet pointing her ideas. “You know, I just realised, how much work do you do? I mean, you’re around the same age as us, you have a job and you basically co-manage this place whilst also working here as an entertainer. Do you even go to school?”

Y/N chuckled and turned to face him, “This is a part-time job but I do usually sneak in extra hours just to help out Cal, he can’t do everything by himself and there isn’t anyone else to help him, plus he’s a family friend and basically my uncle at this point. As for school, I do online school which I pay for with this job, and it all comes full circle.” Reggie frowned, “Still, it sounds like a lot. You should come to Julie’s sometime during practice and just hang out. No folders, no notes, no work, just hanging out and having a good time! And promise me you’ll start taking it easy”

“Alright, Leather Boy, I promise and maybe I’ll take you up on that someday. But for now, just focus on your gig that’s coming up in two days, not including today of course. Speaking of, do you mind helping me out with this, I get the impression you have a lot of ideas locked up in that brain of yours.” Reggie looked at her in surprise, “You really want my help? I mean, you could ask anyone for help, why me?” Y/N stared at Reggie, her brows furrowing as a worried expression crossed her face, “Why wouldn’t I? Reggie you’re amazing and I wouldn’t want anyone else to help me.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

---

“Finish up these papers for me, I’m going out.”

“Cal, I’m already doing more than I should, I have to finish off an essay and send it in before lunch. You haven’t even started your time listings for today yet.” Y/N blew at a piece of hair that kept falling into her eyes and glared up at Cal.

“I said finish them, I’m going out.” Cal slammed the papers onto her desk and walked out of the office. “Cal, what the fuck!” Y/N stood up, her chair slamming into the wall behind her as she ran after him, papers in hand, “Where the hell are you going?” “Out.”

Cal shot her a cold glare that made her freeze in place before walking out. Y/N groaned in frustration, throwing the papers to the floor, “Shit, fuck, kill me.” Sighing, she knelt on the floor and gathered the papers back up. “Fucking asshole, but he might have something important to do and he’s just stressed about it. Calm down, Y/N.” She kept muttering reassurance to herself so as not to lose her temper once again.

Y/N glanced down at the paper, it was her schedule for the note giving out extravaganza. Oh fuckerooney, she was meant to do that now and she was already late. Y/N ran into the office and stuffed all the notes into a bag which she slung onto her shoulder before sprinting out into the street and making her way to her first stop: Firecracker’s house.

---

“Y/N? You look like you ran all the way here…don’t tell me, you did, didn’t you.”

“Perhaps.”

Julie rolled her eyes despite the grin growing on her face, “You’re an idiot, you know that, right? And your face is really red.” Y/N gasped dramatically, bringing her hands to her cheeks in comical shock, “You don’t say?”

“Julie! Who’s at the door? Tell them to go away, we need to practice!” Both girls stared at each other for a second in slight shock before bursting into laughter, Y/N cleared her throat before turning to Julie, “You might want to cover your ears.” Julie raised a brow but complied as Y/N took a deep breath, “Oi, dunderheads! I thought you wanted your notes but I guess not!” Silence followed and it everything in her to not burst out laughing or snort. “And go…” Julie furrowed her eyebrows and the snickered at the sounds of scraping and scrambling that came from inside the garage.

“No! Please, give us the cheat sheet so we can win!”

“Not a cheat sheet and it’s not a competition but yes, please ignore him! We need your help!”

“Wait there’s a cheat sheet? No one said anything about a test!”

“Okay, boys, chill out and let her breath before she joins you in the afterlife.” Y/N sent Julie a grateful smile before setting the notes down on the coffee table and quickly stepping back as the boys (specifically Luke) dived for them. “So, as per mandatory instructions I need to explain the notes and help you use them to your advantage but I also took on all of Cal’s work until the weekend alongside my own so I hope you don’t mind me checking the finance’s, writing setlists and my essay and other work stuff. I promise you will still get the full explanation for each and every note!”

“You took on more? You already have so much, you promised that you’d take it easy!” Y/N rubbed her knuckles, “I know but Cal walked out on me earlier and hasn’t been himself lately so I needed to pick up where he left off. Plus, all the other workers need a manager and so that’s what I’ll become.” Julie sighed, stroking her finger along the piano keys as she sat down, “As longs as you’re sure it’s okay.” Reggie furrowed his brow but picked up his bass and slung it over his shoulder nonetheless, his concern and probable disappointment made the nasty, sinking feeling of guilt weigh down on Y/N. She didn’t like letting people down but she needed to do this, for her family, for Cal, for herself.

“So let’s do this, you can read through it and then I’ll walk you through it all.”

“Oh! Julie, can you call Flynn? I’d like to see what she’s got before putting everything out there.” Julie frowned, “Are you sure, you’re already doing so much, I don’t wanna-“ “Julie, it’ll be fine just call her up, I’d rather get this done, it’s now or never.” Luke snorted, Alex rolled his eyes but smiled and Reggie choked causing Y/N to raise a brow before shrugging it off, she just needed to see this through and then maybe Cal would be okay again.

A small smile made its way onto her face when she saw Julie and Luke link pinkies behind the piano, she didn’t that was possible but they were cute so you didn’t particularly us. And hey, she got Luke’s nickname spot on, so there’s also that.

“Okay, if you’re sure then I’m sure Flynn will be delighted.” Y/N grinned, “Sweetness, let me know when she’ll get here so I can prepare a space the printer in our office back at the diner.” Reggie furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, kinda like a confused puppy, “How do you prepare it? Are you leaving already?” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, “No, the printer is wireless and connects to all of the staff’s phones and laptops. Since I only have my phone on me I’ll be using that.”

“Ohhhh! That makes sense!”

“Yeah, Willie said something like that when we went sightseeing and we say printings being put out without anyone nearby.”

“That’s stupid, just draw them or something, what if the wireless breaks?”

“You’re talking loud for someone with bad handwriting.”

---

“Hey everybody, your favourite manager has arrived!”

“Thanks for coming, Flynn. Y/N is just setting up the wireless connection back to her office, have you got a copy of the flyer or something?” Flynn grinned, “You know I do, and can I just say that I really appreciate me and my talents and you should too. You’re welcome.” Julie chuckled and led Flynn over to Y/N who looked up at them with a smile. “Hey, Flynn, it’s really great to see you again. Sorry about the short notice.” Y/N picked at the tips of her nails, a bashful smile making its way onto her face, “No problem, since Julie ditched me for her invisible boyfriend and his band geek friends I haven’t had much chance to hang around, now you’re my excuse.” Julie rolled her eyes as Flynn stuck her tongue out in her direction.

Y/N chuckled and put her phone down beside her, “Well, I’m glad to be of service. So, may I see your masterpiece?” Flynn grinned and pulled her phone out of a pocket, “I thought you’d never ask.”

---

“Thanks so much, Flynn. Your flyer’s amazing, we might have to hire you properly.” Y/N winked, a bright smile on her face, “Really? I mean, these guys really need my talents but if I find some time away I might drop by.” The two girls laughed and then a thought popped into Y/N’s head. She rummaged through her bag and brought out her notebook; she ripped out a page and wrote her number onto it. “Here, Julie already has pretty much all of my contact info but I just remembered you don’t, so here’s my number.” Flynn smiled, “Thanks, I’ll put it in my phone when I get home.”

“Y/N! Do your job and help us now!” She rolled her eyes and stood up, “Once again, thanks.” Flynn sent her finger guns in return. She walked over to where the ‘band geeks’ were congregated around the piano.

“Okay, so it says ‘Remember to interact with audience members’ and ‘Move around when possible’. What does that mean?” Y/N smiled and leant against the piano, “The first one is simple, Cal really liked how you guys react with each other but since we are a performing diner the audience want to be included as well, so interact with them, send them smiles, wave at specific people, pick people out of the crows, that sort of stuff.” She shifted her body to a more comfortable position, “As for moving around, again, we’re a performing diner, everyone will have a mic pack, since you can pick up, hold and wear physical things I’m gonna assume you can wear mic packs too. I don’t know how your amps work though so just move as much as possible, Julie if you can do the most moving around that would be great, we’ll have some performers dancing and working around you but you guys are our main attraction when you’re performing. Just do what you can to the best of your ability, that's all we ask.”

“Well, I’m sure we can do that, right, boys?”

“Obviously, have you not heard us rehearse this week? We’re going blow everyone’s socks off!”

“I have a feeling anything could go badly though, what if the mic packs don’t work or one of us doesn’t appear when we start playing, or- “

“Alex, chill out, this isn’t a second hotdog, and if it is we’ll eat it so it knows who’s boss!”

“Uh, Reggie, that’s how we died, I’m pretty sure the hotdog won.”

“Huh, yeah, that checks out.”

Julie and Y/N caught each other’s eyes and burst out laughing, “Can you guys stop having your little ghostie jokes, I’m trying to boast that I’m well on my way to being a famous manager to the She-Devil herself!”

“Well, now I’ve fulfilled my part of this mission I have to head off to my next mission, Agent Y/N is officially signing out.” Julie smiles and Flynn walks up, “It was great to have you on this mission, we wish you luck in your next. Stay safe Agent, we hope to see you again.” The three girls saluted each other before snickering while the boys stared at them in confusion. Y/N walked over to her bag and slung it over her shoulder, “I’ll see you guys later.” She pushed open the garage doors, waving goodbye one last time before walking out.

Y/N started walking down the path before a loud smashing sound caught her by surprise, “Wait!” A weird sensation spread over her hand, it was warm but cold and it made her skin tingle before she felt pressure replace the weird feeling and fingers curl around her hand. “How can I help you?” Y/N turned around, plastering her customer service smile onto her face.

“Leather Boy?”

She turned to see Reggie standing there completely frozen, holding onto her hand as though it were a lifeline. “Reggie? You okay?” Reggie shook his head slightly and smiled before looking down, a sheepish expression crossing his face, “Can I hug you? Please?” Y/N’s softened and smiled brightly, “Of course, Reg. Come here.” She reached up and looped her arms around his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, “I don’t get many hugs, the guys don’t like them and I feel like it would be weird to ask Julie.”

“Well, you can hug me anytime…that sounds really weird.” Y/N chuckles as Reggie gazes at her in admiration, “So what did scream at me and- break a plant pot for?” Y/N peers behind Reggie and finds the origin of the smashing sound. “Uh, well I was going to just say goodbye but since we’re here would you mind if I came by the diner later?” Y/N smirked, “Can’t get enough of me?” Reggie grew flustered and turned his gaze to the floor, “Well- I like looking at the food but you being there is definitely a positive.” Y/N blinked, now it was her turn to be flustered, she didn’t expect him to just come out and say something like that.

“Right, yes, well, I’ll see you there then. Um, bye.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye.”

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp

@slutforjjmaybank @morganayennefertyrell

@dxestars @dcnerd98

@ultraworthlessbitch @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts

@underc0vercryptid-reads @miisacore

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morwensteelsheen · 3 years

Note

I’m starting grad school this autumn and honestly I’m getting nervous. Like yes I am v excited about the whole prospect overall and I do miss being a student but am intimidated by 3 hr long seminars and thesis writing and massive amounts of reading… everyone keeps saying it’s gonna be very different from undergrad so okay, but how specifically? Is it the large amounts of reading? I already had insane amounts of reading (humanities degree hurrah) especially in my last two years but could you expound on your own experience and how you take notes/read quickly/summarize or just how to deal with first time grad students?

Oh, yeah for sure! A necessary disclaimer here is that I'm at a certain poncy English institution that is noted for being very bad at communicating with its students and very bad at treating its postgrad students like human beings, so a lot of these strategies I've picked up will be overkill for anyone who has the good sense to go somewhere not profoundly evil lol.

So I'll just preface this by saying that I am a very poor student in terms of doing what you're supposed to. I'm very bad at taking notes, I never learned how to do it properly, and I really, really struggle with reading dense literature. That said, I'm probably (hopefully?) going to get through this dumb degree just fine. Also — my programme is a research MPhil, not taught, so it's a teensy bit more airy-fairy in terms of structure. I had two classes in Michaelmas term, both were once a week for two hours each; two in Lent, one was two hours weekly, the other two hours biweekly; and no classes at all in Easter. I also have no exam component, I was/am assessed entirely on three essays (accounting for 30% of my overall mark) and my dissertation (the remaining 70%), which is, I think, a little different to how some other programmes are. I think even some of the other MPhils here are more strenuous than that, like Econ and Soc Hist is like 100% dissertation? Anyways, not super important, but knowing what you're getting marked on is important. I dedicated considerably less time than I did in undergrad to perfecting my coursework essays because they just don't hold as much weight now. The difference between a 68 and a 70 just wasn't worth the fuss for me, which helped keep me sane-ish.

The best advice anyone ever gave me was that, whereas an undergrad degree can kind of take over your life without it becoming a problem, you need to treat grad school like a job. That's not because it's more 'serious' or whatever, but because if you don't set a really strict schedule and keep to it, you'll burn yourself out and generally make your life miserable. Before I went back on my ADD meds at the end of Michaelmas term, I sat myself down at my desk and worked from 11sh to 1800ish every day. Now that I'm medicated, I do like 9:30-10ish to 1800-1900 (except for now that I'm crunching on my diss, where, because of my piss-poor time management skills I'm stuck doing, like, 9:30-22:30-23:00). If you do M-F 9-5, you'll be getting through an enormous amount of work and leaving yourself loads of time to still be a human being on the edges. That'll be the difference between becoming a postgrad zombie and a person who did postgrad. I am a postgrad zombie. You do not want to be like me.

The 'work' element of your days can really vary. It's not like I was actually consistently reading for all that time — my brain would have literally melted right out of my ears — but it was about setting the routine and the expectation of dedicating a certain, consistent and routinized period of time for focusing on the degree work every day. My attention span, even when I'm medicated, is garbage, so I would usually read for two or three hours, then either work on the more practical elements of essay planning, answer emails, or plot out the early stages of my research.

In the first term/semester/whatever, lots of people who are planning on going right into a PhD take the time to set up their applications and proposals. I fully intended on doing a PhD right after the MPhil, but the funding as an international student trying to deal with the pandemic proved super problematic, and I realised that the toll it was taking on my mental health was just so not worth it, so I've chosen to postpone a few years. You'll feel a big ol' amount of pressure to go into a PhD during your first time. Unless you're super committed to doing it, just try and tune it out as much as you can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with taking a year (or two, or three, or ten) out, especially given the insane conditions we're all operating under right now.

I'll be honest with you, I was a phenomenally lazy undergrad. It was only by the grace of god and being a hard-headed Marxist that I managed to pull out a first at the eleventh hour. So the difference between UG and PG has been quite stark for me. I've actually had to do the reading this year, not just because they're more specialised and relevant to my research or whatever, but because, unlike in UG, the people in the programme are here because they're genuinely interested (and not because it's an economic necessity) and they don't want to waste their time listening to people who haven't done the reading.

I am also a really bad reader. Maybe it's partially the ADD + dyslexia, but mostly it's because I just haven't practiced it and never put in the requisite effort to learn how to do it properly. My two big pointers here are learning how to skim, and learning how to prioritise your reading.

This OpenU primer on skimming is a bit condescending in its simplicity, but it gets the point across well. You're going to want to skim oh, say, 90% of the reading you're assigned. This is not me encouraging you to be lazy, it's me being honest. Not every word of every published article or book is worth reading. The vast majority of them aren't. That doesn't mean the things that those texts are arguing for aren't worth reading, it just means that every stupid rhetorical flourish included by bored academics hoping for job security and/or funding and/or awards isn't worth your precious and scarce time. Make sure you get the main thrust of each text, make sure you pull out and note down one or two case studies and move right the hell on. There will be some authors whose writing will be excellent, and who you will want to read all of. Everything else gets skimmed.

Prioritisation is the other big thing. You're going to have shitty weeks, you're probably going to have lots of them. First off, you're going to need to forgive yourself for those now — everybody has them, yes, even the people who graduated with distinctions and go on to get lovely £100,000 AHRC scholarships. Acknowledge that there will be horrible weeks, accept it now, and then strategise for how to get ahead of them. My personal strategy is to plan out what I'm trying to get out of each course I take, and then focus only on the readings that relate to that topic.

I took a course in Lent term that dealt with race and empire in Britain between 1607 and 1900; I'm a researcher of the Scottish far left from 1968-present, so the overlap wasn't significant. But I decided from the very first day of the course that I was there to get a better grasp about the racial theories of capitalism and the role of racial othering in Britain's subjugation of Ireland. Those things are helpful to me because white supremacist capitalism comes up hourly in my work on the far left, and because the relationship of the Scottish far left to Ireland is extremely important to its self definition. On weeks when I couldn't handle anything else, I just read the texts related to that. And it was fine, I did fine, I got my stupid 2:1 on the final essay, and I came out of it not too burnt out to work on my dissertation.

Here is where I encourage you to learn from my mistakes: get yourself a decent group of people who you can have in depth conversations about the material with. I was an asshole who decided I didn't need to do that with any posh C*mbr*dge twats, and I have now condemned myself to babbling incomprehensible nonsense at my partner because I don't have anyone on my course to work through my ideas with. These degrees are best experienced when they're experienced socially. In recent years (accelerated by the pandemic, ofc), universities have de-emphasised the social component of postgrad work, largely to do with stupid, long-winded stuff related to postgrad union organising etc. It's a real shame because postgrads end up feeling quite socially isolated, and because they're not having these fun and challenging conversations, their work actually suffers in the long term. This is, and I cannot stress this enough, the biggest departure from undergrad. Even the 'weak links' or whatever judgemental nonsense are there because they want to be. That is going to be your biggest asset. Talk, talk, talk. Listen, listen, listen. Offer to proofread people's papers so you get a sense of how people are thinking about things, what sort of style they're writing in, what sources they're referring to. Be a sponge and a copycat (but don't get done for plagiarism, copy like this.) Also: ask questions that seem dumb. For each of your classes, ask your tutors/lecturers who they think the most important names in their discipline are. It sounds silly, but it's really helpful to know the intellectual landscape you're dealing with, and it means you know whose work you can go running to if you get lost or tangled up during essay or dissertation writing!

You should also be really honest about everything — another piece of advice that I didn't follow and am now suffering for. The people on your courses and in your cohort are there for the same reasons as you, have more or less the same qualifications as you, and are probably going to have a lot of the same questions and insecurities as you. If you hear an unfamiliar term being used in a seminar, just speak up and ask about it, because there're going to be loads of other people wondering too. But you should also cultivate quite a transparent relationship with your supervisor. I was really cagey and guarded with mine because my hella imposter syndrome told me she was gonna throw my ass out of the programme if I admitted to my problems. Turns out no, she wouldn't, and that actually she's been a super good advocate for me. If you feel your motivation slipping or if you feel like you're facing challenges you could do with a little extra support on, go right to your supervisor. Not only is that what they're there to do, they've also done this exact experience before and are going to be way more sympathetic and aware of the realities of it than, say, the uni counselling service or whatever.

Yeah so I gotta circle back to the notes thing... I really do not take notes. It's my worst habit. Here's an example of the notes I took for my most recent meeting with my supervisor (revising a chapter draft).

No sane person would ever look at these and think this is a system worth replicating lol. But the reason they work for me is because I also record (with permission) absolutely everything. My mobile is like 90% audio recordings of meetings and seminars lol. So these notes aren't 'good' notes, but they're effective for recalling major points in the audio recording so I can listen to what was said when I need to.

Sorry none of this is remotely organised because it's like 2330 here and my brain is so soft and mushy. I'm literally just writing things as I remember them.

Right, so: theory is a big thing. Lots of people cheap out on this and it's to their own detriment. You say you're doing humanities, and tbh, most of the theory involved on the humanities side of the bridge is interdisciplinary anyways, so I'm just gonna give you some recommendations. The big thing is to read these things and try to apply them to what you're writing about. This sounds so fucking condescending but getting, like, one or two good theoretical frameworks in your papers will actually put you leaps and bounds beyond the students around you and really improve your research when the time comes. Also: don't read any of these recommendations without first watching, like an intro youtube video or listening to a podcast. The purists will tell you that's the wrong way to do it, but I am a lazy person and lazy people always find the efficient ways to do things, so I will tell the purists to go right to hell.

Check out these impenetrable motherfuckers (just one or two will take your work from great to excellent, so don't feel obliged to dig into them all):

Karl Marx and Fredrich Engels (I'm not just pushing my politics, but also, I totally am) — don't fucking read Capital unless you're committed to it. Oh my god don't put yourself through that unless you really have to. Try, like, the 18th Brumaire of Louis Napoleon for the fun quotes, and Engels on the family.

Frantz Fanon — Wretched of the Earth. Black Skin White Masks also good, slightly more impossible to read

Benedict Anderson — Imagined Communities. It's about nationalism, but you will be surprised at how applicable it is to... so many other topics

Judith Butler — she really sucks to read. I love her. But she sucks to read. If you do manage to read her though, your profs will love you because like 90% of the people who say they've read her are lying

Bourdieu — Distinction is good for a lot of things, but especially for introducing the idea of social and cultural capital. There's basically no humanities sub-discipline that can't run for miles on that alone.

Crenshaw — the genesis of intersectionality. But, like, actually read her, not the ingrates who came after her and defanged intersectionality into, like, rainbow bombs dropped over Gaza.

The other thing is that you should read for fun. My programme director was absolutely insistent that we all continue to read for pleasure while we did this degree, not just because it's good for destressing, but because keeping your cultural horizons open actually makes your writing better and more interesting. I literally read LOTR for the first time in, like February, and the difference in my writing and thinking from before and after is tangible, because not only did it give me something fun to think about when I was getting stressy, but it also opened up lots of fun avenues for thought that weren't there before. I read LOTR and wanted to find out more about English Catholics in WWI, and lo and behold something I read about it totally changed how I did my dissertation work. Or, like, a girl on my course who read the Odyssey over Christmas Break and then started asking loads of questions about the role of narrative creation in the archival material she was using. It was seriously such a good edict from our director.

Also, oh my god, if you do nothing else, please take this bit seriously: forgive yourself for the bad days. The pressure in postgrad is fucking unreal. Nobody, nobody is operating at 100% 100% of the time. If you aim for 60% for 80% of the time and only actually achieve 40% for 60% of the time, you will still be doing really fucking well. Don't beat yourself up unnecessarily. Don't make yourself feel bad because you're not churning out publishable material every single day. Some days you just need to lie on the couch, order takeout, and watch 12 hours of Jeopardy or whatever, and I promise you that that is a good and worthwhile thing to do. You don't learn and grow without rest, so forgive yourself for the moments and days of unplanned rest, and forgive yourself for when you don't score as highly as you want to, and forgive yourself when you say stupid things in class or don't do all of (or any of) the class reading.

Uhhhh I think I'm starting to lose the plot a bit now. Honestly, just ping me whatever questions you have and I'm happy to answer them. There's a chance I'll be slower to respond over the next few days because my dissertation is due in a week (holy fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) but I will definitely respond. And honestly, no question is too dumb lol. I wish I'd been able to ask someone about things like what citation management software is best or how to set up a desk for maximum efficiency or whatever, but I was a scaredy-cat about it and didn't. So yeah, ask away and I will totally answer.

#asks

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ghostly-cabbage · 4 years

Text

Frigid (Chapter 2)

Genre: Horror, Angst

Chapter Rating: M (Language, gore)

Word count: 4,391

AO3 FFN

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Today is really stressful, but hopefully this makes someone out there feel better. Enjoy and tell me what you think!

Danny flew through every room in the school, even the basement, but the unidentified ghost was gone. He pushed a gloved hand through his hair and swore under his breath. Just his damn luck. At least he’d caught the mountain lion ghost in the thermos. At first glance he’d thought it was Bertrand and Spectra, but that theory had been dashed. The big cat had got him good but it didn’t seem to have any intelligence beyond a wild animal.

He’d looked long enough that the ghost alarm had been turned off and people started heading back into the building. It was also long enough that his wound had melded together, and the stains on his gloves were the only evidence he’d sustained an injury in the first place. That too would be gone the next time we went ghost.

He slipped through the wall of the bathroom and dropped down into a stall to transform back. He poked his head out through the door of the bathroom to make sure no one was paying attention. Everyone was too busy trying to figure who’d seen the ghost to care. It was normal for people to hide in the bathrooms during an attack anyway. Right. First things first, he had to put the thermos back in his locker. Classes would resume in a few minutes.

Sam and Tucker were waiting at his locker when he got there. They perked up when they saw him.

“Who was it this time?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, it was a new ghost,” he said, trying to seem less troubled than he was.

“Ghost Gage readings put it at a level six,” Tucker reported, turning his phone around to show Danny the readout graph that did in fact place its power level around a six.

“What was the reading on the other one?”

“Let’s see…” Tuck fiddled with his phone for a second before finding it. “Four and a half? A five at first.”

“A new ghost, huh? That hasn’t happened in awhile,” Sam pointed out.

“Tell me about it,” Danny unlocked his locker and set the thermos on the top shelf, safe until after school when he could flush the ghost back into the Ghost Zone. “She didn’t seem to know who I was, which is a good thing I guess.”

“Well, hopefully they won’t come back after you send ‘em back into the Ghost Zone.”

“Yeah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck as he closed his locker. “About that. I sorta only caught one. The level six hightailed it before I could get her pinned down.” Danny started to walk towards his next class.

“So what’s her deal?” Sam fell into step on his left, and Tucker on his right.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get much from her. She had one of those stick things that sheep farmers have though.”

“A shepherd's crook?” Sam supplied.

“Yeah, that. She didn’t say anything to me either, just... screamed.” It wasn’t that odd that a ghost wasn’t very talkative, but something about her was rubbing Danny the wrong way.

“Creepy,” Tucker said. “I’ll start a file on the ‘Shepherd’ then.” He tapped on his phone as they walked, not even bothering to watch where he was going. Danny reached out and grabbed Tucker’s elbow to phase him through a trash can just before he toppled into it. “Wait, was the scream anything like your wail?”

Danny shook his head. “No, that’s the thing guys, she didn’t directly attack me. Just her lackee mountain lion.”

“Huh. Well, with any luck, the next encounter will get us some more solid data. Cause right now we’re lookin’ pretty sorry. She wasn’t around long enough to get a read on her core type either.” Tucker's face was wrinkled in concentration.

“We’ll take what we can get, thanks Tuck.”

“I should really start charging you for my services. You know how much work all this is?” He waved his phone at them.

Danny laughed. “You wanna do my job instead?” Tucker was quiet for a second.

“Yeah, not a chance.”

“You sure? I could go find Desiree for old times sake,” Danny suggested with a shit eating grin. Tucker narrowed his eyes at him.

“Dude. Low blow.” His tone was good humored and easy. One of the perks of being friends so long. They shared a smile and Tucker punched his shoulder. “Alright, I got History, see you guys,” he gave them a two finger salute and peeled off.

“Did you do the algebra homework for today?” Sam asked as Tucker left. Danny felt his breath seize in his throat.

“There was algebra homework already?” He squawked.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” she laughed.

He put a hand over his heart and let out a huge breath. “Sam, don’t do that! Gave me a heart attack, are you trying to kill me again?”

________________________________________________________________

After algebra Danny had chemistry. He said goodbye to Sam in the hall and headed to the science lab. When Danny got to class Wesley was already there. He was sitting at their table staring a hole into the white board at the front of the room.

Danny thought back to the last time he’d seen him, cornered against a locker and eyes filled with terror. He dropped his textbook on the table and Wes jumped so violently Danny was surprised he stayed on his stool. His expression morphed from fear to annoyance as he looked at Danny.

“What’s wrong, man? You look like you saw a ghost,” Danny said. A part of him almost felt bad for going for such an obvious jab, but Wes had made it clear on day one that he didn’t like him. So why be nice? Danny used his foot to drag his stool out and he slumped onto his seat.

“Ha ha,” Wes replied, voice brittle. He resumed his staring contest with the whiteboard. Danny shrugged, unbothered. Kids came in and took their seats in small groups. Valerie was in this class too, and came in two minutes to the bell. The two still had an unspoken truce that translated into mutual respect. It was pretty close to a friendship. At least when he was Fenton. She came up to stand next to his desk, books tucked in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, Danny. Did you see the ghost today?” From the corner of his eye he saw Wes glance towards them. Val seemed to notice the attention too. “Just curious, from what I can tell not many saw this one. Which is weird for us.” In his last class all the students had been buzzing about the ghost attack, it was the first one of the new school year after all. Everyone had been speculating on which ghost it was and whether Phantom had shown up.

Danny shook his head. “Sorry, Val. I was on the other end of the building and evacuated with everyone.”

“Hmm. Okay, thanks.” Danny could see the gears turning in her head, probably frustrated she didn’t get her hands on it /or/ him, but she didn’t say anything else, and went to sit down at her table. Danny could feel Wesley’s eyes on him, and he sighed, turning on his stool to look at him. He was probably going to regret this.

“Lemme guess, you have questions.” Wesley looked reluctant but no less pissed.

“Everyone just… Accepts that ghosts are a thing here?” He said it in a low voice, like he was afraid of being overheard by someone.

“Uh. Yeah? Pretty much. Most people anyway. It’s been like this for like two years so… Yeah, people are kinda used to it by now.”

Wes looked confused and conflicted. He was silent for a beat, before he asked his next question. “What can you tell me about this Phantom guy?” If Danny had been drinking something he probably would have choked on it.

“Uh. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

“Who is he? Why is he here? What’s so special about him?”

Danny blinked at the barrage of questions and struggled to find words. “Well, he’s—” the last bell rang and Mrs. Merriweather stood up from her desk. Danny almost sighed with relief. She pushed her rounded glasses up, and soothed down her pencil skirt.

“Alright kids, find your seats and settle down. We’re going to review lab safety today, and tomorrow we’ll be starting our first lab. Also the scheduled ghost drill will still be taking place, and because I detest the regulations I’m going to go ahead and tell you it'll be around 2:15 during this class.” She walked across the classroom and flicked off the lights. The projector hummed from its place hanging from the ceiling and Mrs. Merriweather wasted no time hopping to her powerpoint presentation on proper lab etiquette. Danny took the opportunity to shoot a text to Sam and Tucker about the ghost drill. At least this way they didn’t need to be on high alert. Besides, Danny had practically grown up in a lab, he knew this stuff backwards and forwards.

Wes glanced sideways at him, but said nothing. Danny shoved his phone back in his pocket and slouched forward onto the table. He stifled a yawn and struggled to keep his eyes open. A nap sounded fantastic at the moment, he’d been up half the night trying to talk Kitty through her recent fight with Johnny. Jazz said he should try and be helpful and build trust so they were less likely to take out their lovers' quarrels on him. Not having to get smacked around was all well and good but he wasn’t a ghost therapist. That was way more Jazz’s wheelhouse. He’d never say it out loud, because he’d never hear the end of it, but he missed her.

“Mr. Fenton.” Mrs. Merriweather had her hands on her hips. Crap.

“Yeah?”

“What did I just go over?”

“Uh… eye protection?”

She sighed. “Danny, what part of this seems unimportant?”

“None of it! Er, I mean, all of it? It is important, but I mean it’s not like I can even use any of this stuff anyways so…”

Mrs. Merriweather pinched the bridge of her nose. “And why do you think that is?” Annoyance squirmed in his stomach. “Not because I don’t know anything about lab safety. I know how to be safe in a lab, it’s not rocket science.”

“Well, since you know everything there is to know, then you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve just decided to give the class a quiz tomorrow on this powerpoint.” There was a satisfied twinkle in her eyes, and Danny swore she loved to torture kids, and being a teacher was the only legal way she could do it. The class broke out into groans.

“Nice going, Fenton!” Someone spat from behind him. He wanted to phase through the floor and just go home.

“Pay attention or get detention everyone!” Mrs. Merriweather warned them. It was her favorite thing to say. She turned back to the slide show and continued her spiel.

The ghost drill was nothing unusual. Despite knowing it was coming, most of the class still jumped when the alarm started, Danny and Wes included. They all evacuated the building and stood outside in the school yard the exact same way they would a fire drill. It was a waste of time, especially since they’d already had a ghost attack today.

Thankfully, Wes had slipped off to stand with a guy that looked like his older brother, if the resemblance meant anything. Wes probably didn’t want to be seen talking to him if there was any other option. Danny had to hand it to him, he caught on fast. What that also meant was he didn’t have to try and fumble his way through an entire conversation answering questions about Phantom. Danny just hoped Wes ended up asking someone who had a more progressive opinion on him, someone like Paulina, or hell, even Dash.

Danny spent the last of the drill hanging with Sam and Tucker. The obnoxious sirens had shut off at least. Danny hated those things, his parents had recommended and got approval for the installation at the start of school last year, along with a state of the art ghost detection gadget. After the third “false alarm”, courtesy of him, they got rid of the ghost detection in favor of the manual alarm buttons. That had been a rough week. Danny hadn’t known a peaceful ghost fight at Casper since.

Eventually the drill was over, and the teachers started ushering kids back into school for the last period.

“So, what’s going on after school?” Sam asked as they were funneled into the entrance.

“I’ll probably swing by my house to drop my stuff off, then I’m gonna look around town, see if I can’t find that new ghost hanging around anywhere.”

“Pizza at my place after?”

“Aw hell yeah, Sam! Wings too?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Yeah sure, Tucker, you can order wings. Just keep them away from me, will ya?”

Danny snorted. “Sounds like a plan, I’ll text when I’m on my way.”

“Or if you need help with that ghost?” she added sternly.

“Yeah yeah, fine. That too.” He waved a hand dismissively at her.

_______________________________________________________________

Tucker and Sam walked home with him like they normally did, exchanging goodbyes and “see you later”’s at his front steps. They continued down the street as Danny pushed into his house. He took a deep breath, relaxing into the familiar smells of home. It was weird, not seeing Jazz on the couch with twelve open textbooks taking up all the space on the coffee table. He headed for the kitchen, his empty stomach not willing to wait for pizza later. He dropped his bag by the banister so he could pick it back up on his way to his room later.

When he walked into the kitchen, his mom looked up and brightened. She had a bunch of papers all laying out on the dining table, some in piles and some splayed out in an order that probably made sense to her at least. She didn’t have her goggles on, instead she had them pushed back like a headband.

“Hi, sweetie! I didn’t even hear you come in. How was your day at school?”

“Fine,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. Danny walked past the table to the fridge. As he passed he noticed that the papers were readouts and raw data sheets. Some looked like her own notes which featured the words “ghosts”, “core”, “ecto-signature” and the like about a dozen times. It wasn’t exactly abnormal for his parents, but it did peak his interest.

He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of strawberry soda and an apple, enjoying the feeling of the cool air on his face. He nudged the fridge door closed with his foot and turned towards his mom.

“So,” he took a bite of his apple, “what’re you workin’ on?” Normally his parents kept all the research down in the lab, unless of course they were close to figuring something out, and were running out of counter space down there. He walked back over and pulled out a chair to sit.

Over the years he’d gotten somewhat closer to his parents. Well, he was more confident in his secret keeping ability now, which was what it boiled down to. Plus, it was advantageous to try and keep track of whatever ghost obliterating tech his parents had come up with this time, which was easier to do if he acted interested in their work. Especially now that Jazz was gone.

His mom’s grin got even wider at his question and he could tell she was bursting at the seams to talk about it. She put her pencil down, and swept up her mug to take a quick sip. It was white with Fenton Works plastered across the side.

“Ghost cores!” She set her mug back down, and pulled her goggles off her head. It let loose a few locks of her red hair that she quickly tucked behind her ear. “So, as you know all ghosts have power cores,” she shuffled around in her research, looking for something in particular. “Except, all ghosts have different power core ‘types’.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded along as if it was all new information. He took another bite of his apple.

“So! Your father and I are working on not only a better method of categorizing ghosts that takes into account their power level but also the type of elemental core they possess. We think if we can find more commonalities and differences it will help find more exploitable weaknesses.” She found the page she was looking for and offered it to him, standing to lean over the table. Danny set his snack down and took the page to skim over it. It looked like a bunch of data on ghost’s with their power measurement, core type, temperature, ectoplasmic density, each a value that was plugged into an algorithm that spat out a number for a final threat level.

“See, before, we would base an ecto-entities power level solely on the output of the ectoplasmic energy, but with this algorithm, we can have a more in depth understanding of the possible damage a ghost could do and how to counter it.”

“Hence the ‘threat level’ rather than just ‘power level’?” he said glancing up at her.

“Exactly sweetie!” Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “Oh, you and your sister, you’re both so smart.” She came around the table to brush his bangs out of his face, and squish him in a one armed hug. “I couldn’t have asked for more perfect kids,” she said and kissed the top of his head before releasing him. He forced a smile. She said that now, but she didn’t know what he was. Who he was.

“Now, the issue is trying to find all the core types.” She leaned a hand on the table to look over his shoulder at the paper he was holding. “So far we know about fire, electricity, ice…” She held her chin thoughtfully. “And despite what the core may be, that doesn’t always mean their powers are a direct derivative, the applications of a core type can be extremely varied with only a thin connecting thread,” she muttered. Danny almost didn’t know if she was still talking to him, or just thinking out loud. “I’m doing research on what determines a ghost's core type. So far the leading theory is based on how they died. We think it’s the main contributing factor but I need more subjects to find anything conclusive.”

If that were true, he’d have an electricity core. The thought made his breath stick in his throat and a cold sweat break on his forehead. Danny went to open his soda— or he would have, had it still been liquid. Instead there was a thick layer of frost on the outside of the aluminum where he’d been holding it, and the contents were frozen solid, bulging the top and bottom of the can. Yikes. He shot his Mom a panicked look, but she was thankfully too absorbed in her thoughts to notice. He handed her back the paper before he froze that too.

“Sounds pretty cool, Mom. Welp, I gotta go do some reading for class so—”

“Danny-boy!” Boomed his dad’s voice. He winced and turned to see his Dad coming up from the lab.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Helpin’ your Mom with some good ol’ fashioned ghost research are we?”

“Actually I was—”

“Maddie, I did what you asked! I tore the whole lab apart, but I still didn’t find the Fenton Ghost Gage anywhere.” Uh-oh. Danny slowly got up from the table and went to make for the door.

“That’s odd, I swear I left it by the control panel a few weeks ago...” It was quiet for a moment. “Danny—” he turned back around, feigning ignorance with every ghostly molecule of himself. “—have you seen the Ghost Gage sitting around anywhere?”

The New and Improved Fenton Ghost Gage was a relatively new invention, which actually worked pretty well. Except of course for the glitch that registered a level ten plus ghost in the house. His Mom had theorized that it was because of the proximity to the Ghost Zone that it was giving the off the charts false reads, and left it sitting in a tub of inventions to be tweaked. It was now safely placed between the drywall and plumbing of Casper High, sending it’s readings directly to Tucker's phone. Of course they’d already made the modifications for it to read core types, thanks to Tucker.

“Nope, sorry. Have you checked the couch cushions? Or the fridge?” he suggested.

“Of course! The couch! Good thinking, Dannio!” His Dad clapped him on the back with so much force the soda can flew from his grasp, and promptly exploded on contact with the tile floor. Right. Frozen soda explodes. Idiot.

The outside had been completely frozen, but apparently on the inside it was slush, which was now all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and the three of them. It looked like a sugary crime scene. He quirked a nervous smile.

“Oops?”

________________________________________________________________

Thankfully the soda caused only minimal damage to his parents research papers, but by the time he was done helping clean, the soda on his clothes had dried and gone sticky. Looked like there was no easy phase clean for him. He excused himself upstairs under the false pretense of doing homework and was gone the next minute.

Time to find that ghost.

The wind whipped through his hair and whistled past his ears. It was getting colder by the day and he loved it. The leaves on the trees would start turning soon, turning Amity into a collage of colors. If it weren’t for school, he’d love fall.

He made it to Casper in a minute flat, and started his search there. The weight of the thermos was a constant reassuring weight on his hip as he circled outward. If she was lurking anywhere, his ghost sense would let him know. He flew up and down streets, block after block, but he was getting nothing. Well, unless he counted the people on the street that whooped and pointed at him as he flew past.

He’d just gone by the Nasty Burger when a crackling bolt of energy zipped past him and punched a hole through a billboard. He recoiled and adrenaline flared through him; or whatever the ectoplasmic equivalent was. He flipped around to see a familiar ghost hunter.

“You never learn your lesson, do you, ghost?” Valerie growled.

“I’ve never been the best in school, so I’m gonna say no,” he said with a grin. Another blast shot past him, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction of flinching.

“Shut up, I know you were at Casper today. What can you tell me about the new ghost?” Danny huffed. He and his friends weren’t the only ones that had the school bugged.

“You probably know about as much as I do, Red. She was gone almost as soon as I got there.”

“Like, I’d buy that!” Despite her helmet he could tell she was just as pissed as ever. He splayed his hands in a placating manner.

“Honest, why else would I be out here combing the city?”

“How should I know what you’re planning? You’re probably out here waiting for the opportunity to ruin someone else’s life.”

Danny groaned. “Seriously Red, I said I was sorry like two years ago, you need to learn to let stuff go.” Danny liked to think that deep down she knew he wasn’t there to hurt anyone. She certainly didn’t like him, but she had at least started giving him an opportunity to explain himself before trying to waste him. Baby steps he supposed.

“Back at’cha, ghost.” She lifted her blaster and it whined as it charged. Welp, decorum was over for the day. He went intangible and rocketed through the billboard. Once on the other side he went invisible and tore off in a different direction. He knew she could track him, but it was worth the few seconds it bought him. The sound of her jet sled roared as she gave chase.

Pink charges of ecto-blasts peppered his flight path, near misses and wildly inaccurate alike. He zig-zagged, holding onto his invisibility and intangibility as he slipped through buildings. This was the easiest way to lose her, she had to take the time to skirt around huge objects, or waste the time to go straight up allowing him to widen the gap. Not to mention, while intangible the lack of wind resistance put his speed at around 130 Mph. Last time they’d checked at least.

Once he was sure he was far enough away from Val to have dropped off her radar, he turned and headed for home. He phased through his window and transformed back, flopping onto his bed. He’d been all over town and hadn’t got a single whiff of the new ghost. At least Valerie was on it too. Still, it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand which read 5:10. He’d check for the ghost again after dinner with Sam and Tuck, maybe then he’d at least be able to avoid Valerie. For now, he could really use a break.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #phan phic #phandom #frigid #my writing #wesley weston #wes weston #kyle weston

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dangan-happy · 3 years

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[Miku Mouse will show you the light] for kokichi, mikan, ibuki, or junko: the school semester is almost over where i live. i've been really stressed about it lately because i have four finals, 5 written assignments, 2 tests, and a big ol' book to finish in a matter of 2 and a half weeks. i've been working until my brain burns out, but that still feels like i'm not working fast enough. can i have some positivity, tips, and maybe a hug?

I-I know you want to finish on time Anon, I-I-I understand but you need to take care of yourself or y-you’ll fall ill!

I-I know it’s all overwhelming, but the good news is that it’s almost over, a-and you’ll (hopefully) feel accomplished that you got through it in the end. I-I know you can do it, I have a lot of faith in you!

Of course y-you can have a hug! Please t-t-take care of yourself Anon!

First of all, yay! School semester's almost over! That means one less semester of school! But ew, finals, that's not fun. Woah, that's a lot of tests. My brain hurts just counting all of them. You got two and a half weeks though, which is good! You can use that time, but woah, ok, I found the first problem! You shouldn't work until you burn out. That's just making yourself suffer, and yeah, I know I'm not exactly the straight A's type, but hear me out here.

Making yourself work like that just stresses you out more, and you actually get less done, or remember less. Alternative method! Schedule everything out. Like take all the time you got and schedule out when you're gonna work on what. Like you read the big ol book for an amount of time, then work on a paper or something. But! Here's the fun part, I guess. Make sure you keep the amount of time reasonable, so you don't burn yourself out. Also, schedule breaks in between working on stuff to give yourself a chance to rest a little.

You already seem super smart, like way smarter than me. I'd probably flee the country if I had that much work to do. You can totally ace these finals and finish all your work without burning your brain out. I'm not saying don't work hard, I'm saying work hard without overworking your brain.

You're gonna get everything done in time. You got two whole weeks, and you seem determined, and like I said, you're smart!! Just try to take care of yourself while you study, ok? You can do it!! I know you can!! Yes! Hug tiiiiime!! Now I'm all excited 'cause I know you're gonna do great, but c'mere! You can study after I give you a hug!

#danganronpa #danganronpa roleplay blog #ask #mikan tsumiki #kokichi ouma #mod mukuro #mod kokichi

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jadekitty777 · 4 years

Text

The Miraculous Tales of Luckybug and Qrow Noir

Anyone ready for an onslaught of fics from me for the next week? Because that’s what’s happening my friends.

(I apologize that my blog will also be running on super speed for the next week as I reblog stuff. I also apologize in advance that I won’t have time to read many, if any, fics. My own still need to be edited and finalized. Aaah lil’ stressed honestly).

Day 1: Flirting

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 5600

Ao3 Link: The Miraculous Tales of Luckybug and Qrow Noir

Summary: In the daytime, he was Clover Ebi. Just a normal college student, with a normal life. But there's something about him no one knows yet. Because he has a secret. A miraculous secret.

(AKA: The Miraculous Ladybug AU no one asked for)

“Voici, À Bientôt!”

“Merci beaucoup. Bonne journée!” Clover replied, taking the box from the smiling cashier.

As he stepped out of the bakery into the busy streets of Paris, he gave a sigh of relief. Though he’d been living in France for the past two months now for his Spring Abroad program, he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious every time he had to converse with the locale. His accent wasn’t the best and some words he just couldn’t remember the right inflection for.

Then again, as he got to Green Belt Park and took a seat on one of the empty benches, leaning back to enjoy the stunning view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, he figured being in such a beautiful city was a good excuse to remain speechless.

He set his bookbag down beside him, opening the flap, and then the top of the box, revealing two small slices of cake. “Okay Ruby, you can come out. It’s safe.”

In a flash quicker than lightning, a red streak zipped from his bag and into the box. A moment later, the kwami looked up at him with starry silver eyes and asked, “You got me two?”

He tapped her on the head, right between her antennae. “The strawberry is for you. The other is…”

“For Qrow, right?” As she looked up at him, he decided that the paragon of heroism should not have such a shit-eating grin.

“It’s not-!” He knew his face was getting hot. “We have to work on the sociology project this evening so I thought he’d appreciate it.”

Not fooled for a second, Ruby said between bites of cake, “You should just tell him.”

“I don’t think I should be taking love advice from an immortal being that transcends time.” He craned his head back, watching the thin clouds above drift along the sky. “Besides, it’s not that easy. Qrow is, he’s just so-” He pictured the other man, all dark hair, captivating red eyes, and shy, personal smiles wrapped around a gruff voice that belayed layers of emotion. Clover sighed longingly, “Wonderful.”

Even without eyebrows, Ruby rose one. “Ah-huh. I can see how you’re having trouble.”

He cracked up. It was nice to have her sensible perspective around. He had to wonder how different his life would have been if he never picked up that little black box with the note ‘You’ve been chosen’ left underneath it.

Having come into his life around the same time Qrow had, she’d been privy to a behind-the-scenes look to how his relationship with the other man shifted from strangers to close friends. She was the only one who heard his secret thoughts as that bond grew into intense feelings.

“I really mean it though. It’s always best to be honest with your heart.” The kwami told him.

“I know you’re right. But is it what’s right for Qrow?” At her head tilt, he explained, “He’s got a crush of his own, remember? The one he’s so vague about?”

“Maybe he’s so vague because it’s you?”

He snorted. “Only if he knows I’m Luckybug. He’s got blue eyes, remember?” That was one of the only things he’d been able to pull out of him, besides the gender. Which, after a simple process of elimination, meant it was either Qrow’s best friend Taiyang or James, the leading RA in their dorms back home. Well, or rich and prissy Jacques, but he knew Qrow had better standards than that.

“He could be colorblind to green?” Ruby offered hopefully.

He gave her another pat on the head. “I don’t think it works that way, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

She made a soft noise, before floating up from her bed of crumbs to sit on his shoulder instead. “He hasn’t mentioned this person the entire trip though, right?”

Clover started in surprise. She was right, he hadn’t – which was a huge change from the near weekly aside he’d give about whatever his ‘prince charming’ was up to. “You think it’s fading away?”

“I’m not sure.” She said, looking towards the city’s prized monument. “But I think it might mean this trip could be an opportunity to tell him how you feel. What better place to do that then the city of love?”

He mulled that over. When he found out his university offered abroad studies during junior year, he had been so excited. He’d always wanted to travel, but the prospect of going alone was also nerve-wracking. Qrow, facing much the same enthusiasm and inhibitions, had struck a deal that they would go together. That also meant they had been spending an exorbitant amount of time together, living together in the shared home with a few other students. Shared a room, even.

How many nights had they spent together, just talking about nothing and everything? Mapping out plans over train and bus schedules to fit in as many big sights as they could on their free weekends of tourism? Walked along the Seine at night, the city lights reflecting off the water, where Clover would inadvertently get lost staring at how gorgeous Qrow looked in the casting glow?

Maybe… he could…

“Clover, the sky!”

The sudden alarm in Ruby’s voice had his head jerking upwards. To his horror, the space above the tower was turning black with red lightning streaking across. The telltale sign of Omen at work. But she couldn’t be here!

But sure enough, from the depths of the portal, a large, winged Grimm appeared. It looked like a giant raven, with terribly sharp claws and razor-tipped feathers.

His kwami looked to him, determined. “We need to transform.”

He nodded and grabbed his phone, sending a quick message to Qrow, before stuffing it and the bakery box in his bag. After a cursory glance around, he ducked into the shadow of a tree trunk. “Alright Ruby, charm on!”

The clover-shaped brooch on his chest glowed and Ruby collided with it, and in an instant, he felt his civilian clothes disappear, replaced by a skin-tight, red and polka-dot suit and a mask that covered his eyes. His hair lengthened, his normal, spiked quiff falling into a messier comb over, some of the bangs tickling against his forehead. As the magic of the transition faded, he plucked the yo-yo off his belt and went racing across the park, throwing it at a rooftop, feeling the end latch onto a chimney. With a pull, it retracted and he went flying through the air, landing at the top in one smooth motion. He paused only long enough to leave his bag behind before he went racing along the rooftops towards the emergency.

“I don’t understand. How is Omen here?” Clover asked to no one, feeling panic begin to rise. Did something happen to the team back home? The thought made him sick.

Maria had been very strict about how many miraculous he could put on the field in his absence, not wanting to have another fall into the wrong hands like the Pegasus miraculous had. So, he – or more specifically Luckybug – left Yang the Dragon with Tai and Sun the Monkey with Elm, giving both specific instructions to protect San Francisco in his absence. He’d only called for their assistance a few times before when things got really hectic, so he was hoping Noir would be able to balance the less experienced miraculous users out.

But to think Omen may have defeated all three? That was too awful to imagine.

He looked up at where the bird was circling the tower, dread settling into a hard knot in his gut.

How was he going to do this alone?

“Your stinky fish, madame.” Qrow presented the sardines with a flourish.

Blake lit up immediately, diving for the can and fishing one out for herself.

He left the rest of the can on the desk in easy reaching distance, before setting back into his chair where a very blank word document was staring back at him. He gave an agitated huff. He’d been hoping to at least come up with a few research topics for their paper before Clover got back from his lecture in International Affairs. Which was, Qrow mentally reminded with a fond eyeroll, not a required course for the program they were a part of. But Clover just couldn’t help himself, saying it might come in handy for his GPA score as he signed himself up for the class.

Tch, overachiever.

The distinct feeling of being watched sent a shudder down his spine, and he gave the spirit beside him a look.

The cat kwami stared back, unblinking.

“Blake you’re freaking me out again.”

Her ears twitched and she went to fetch another sardine. “I was just waiting for you to get that dreamy look on your face again.”

He flushed. “D-Dreamy?”

“Mmhmm. It kind of looks like,” She gave an exaggerated sigh, placing a paw against her cheek and fluttering her non-existent lashes.

“I never look like that.” He deadpanned.

“Whatever you say.”

“I don’t! And, anyways, what’s it to you?”

She didn’t reply, taking the time to munch into her fish instead.

He sighed, focusing back on his laptop, switching over to the internet to check on the feed from back home. No new reports of any attacks on any of the news blogs. It was like their enemy had decided to take a vacation at the same time he had.

When Qrow had first became Noir, Maria had told him to be very careful with what information he gave, even to other miraculous holders. He intended to vaguely tell Luckybug he would be out. So, it had really been a stroke of luck when Luckybug announced first on their last mission together that a family emergency was going to keep him out of commission for a while – but that he’d left Tatsu and Timber in the wings in case he needed help. So, he never shared his own intentions. Instead, he placed Kali in charge of Weiss the Bee until he returned, knowing that the power team Lucky had left behind would need a more versatile and calculating fighter in their midst.

(The role he normally filled, he thought with a sense of pride).

He’d been checking on things back at the home front regularly, knowing it only took minutes before social media was trending any new crisis, but it had been unusually quiet. He was sure Lucky was doing the same, wherever he was.

His heart clenched up, thinking about him. They’d been fighting the good fight together for over a year now, and it hadn’t taken much for Qrow to become smitten with the mysterious, masked hero. He’d thought he was everything he ever wanted; strong, daring, ambitious, with a dazzling smile and a baritone voice that was to die for. He was certain their time apart would be torturous.

Yet, it hadn’t been.

They said distance made the heart grow fonder, but it was more like his heart had forgotten. He couldn’t pinpoint when it was exactly that he’d become so preoccupied by Clover. How he’d grown to appreciate his gentle gestures and thoughtful words, his hearty chuckles and sincere expressions. It was as if stepping out of the war woke him from a stupor and gave him a chance to see things he’d missed, even when they were right in front of him.

Qrow sighed, placing his chin in his hand.

“This is my favorite part.”

“Huh?” He looked down at Blake, recognizing that mischievous gleam in her yellow eyes.

“The best story I get to witness is when one of my hosts falls in love.”

“I-I’m not falling in love!” He said immediately. “I have a crush.”

“Really.” It was her turn to deadpan.

He shoved himself away from his desk, offense all over his tone as he echoed, “Yes, really. You know how I feel about Lucky.”

He paced the length of the room, coming to stand by the window, staring down at the busy streets below. A moment later, he felt her weight on his shoulder, almost nonexistent, but there.

Her whisker tickled his neck as she turned her head towards him. “What do you know about Luckybug, really?”

Qrow leaned his arm along the glass, meeting his own reflection’s eyes. “I know he’s smart and funny and he’s always willing to put everything on the line to do what’s right.”

“But what do you know of him specifically? What’s his favorite color? What’s his family like? Does he like anchovies on his pizza?”

He snorted at the last one. “He’s my romantic interest, not yours.” His smile slipped away. “I know what you’re getting at. Unless we reveal who we are to each other, this can’t go any further.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know that. But it still feels wrong, somehow. Are… my feelings that fickle?”

“Not fickle.” She levitated, hovering by his face. “They just had no room to grow. These things have to be nurtured, but if there’s nothing there to care for it, they’re only bound to wither away.”

That had been way too scripted. He gave a laugh. “That’s it, I’m not downloading anymore trashy romance novels on my phone for you to read.”

Her ears flattened. “If you make me sit through your boring lectures, I’ll break the sprinkler above your head.”

“Alright, I fold.” He held up his hands in surrender. Though he was almost positive it was an empty threat, he didn’t want to tempt fate with the kwami of destruction.

She softened. “Anyways, I think with-” She abruptly cut herself off, suddenly darting against the window. “What’s that?!”

He jerked around, spotting where the sky was darkening on the horizon, turning a deep, inky black. He’d seen it so many times before, the magic was unmistakable.

“You don’t think…” Blake trailed off.

“Omen.” Qrow finished, features smoothing into one of rigid resolve. He turned to the kwami, her expression matching his own.

He lifted his hand, the jeweled ring glinting back at her. “Blake, luck off.”

Clover landed in the courtyard, shouting as he ran. “Everyone, clear out!” He desperately tried to remember whatever French he could. “Fuir! S’il vous plaît!”

“Chanceux!” One of the locals cried, desperately trying to find their phone.

“Non, fuir!” He repeated.

A screech from above made him cover his ears, looking up to see the giant bird climbing down the Eiffel Tower, the vertical walk down unnerving somehow. He backed up as the bird landed on concrete, its impressive height daunting him. His fingers clenched around his weapon, backing up as the bird lowered its head. Its beak was big enough to swallow him whole if it wanted.

It seemed that, at least, was enough to make the people around him finally start to flee.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

The voice had him looking higher, spotting the speaker mounted on the beast’s back like a queen in her bed of feathers. Omen walked forward until she stood on the bird’s crown, lowering her sunglasses just enough to reveal crimson red eyes as she stared over the tops of the rims at him.

“What are you doing here?” Clover asked, pulling the yo-yo’s line out as a warning.

She only smiled patronizingly, as if he were no more a threat than a child. “That’s none of your concern.” She pushed her glasses back up, flipping her raven-haired braid over her shoulder. It fell like a horse’s tail along her back, between the wings the Pegasus miraculous granted her.

He felt bad for the imprisoned kwami being forced to do her bidding.

“Tell me, where’s your cohort?” Omen asked, giving a cursory glance around as if Noir would just pop into existence.

“I think I’m more than enough for you.” He instantly realized that had been the wrong thing to say as she laughed.

“You’re alone.” Fuck. “Well, that makes this even easier.” She gestured to the bird she stood on. “But as I’m a fair opponent, I’ll give you a choice. You can hand over your miraculous now, or you can resist and my little Nevermore can have a bit of fun first before I take it.”

As answer, he only started to rotate the yo-yo at his side, the device whooshing audibly as it swung in fast, heavy arcs.

Omen’s dark wings stretched open. “The fun way it is.”

She shot up into the air – but he didn’t have time to worry about her as the Nevermore immediately struck forward, beak opening to snap him in half. He jumped backwards, throwing his weapon out with a yell. It nailed the bird right in its head, the creature giving a sharp cry before it shook it off and straightened up. It opened its wings, the span of them covering a third of the courtyard, and gave a few hard flaps.

It was like being blasted by hurricane winds. Clover yelped as he was thrown off his feet and went tumbling across the concrete. The Nevermore, able to make up the distance in one bound, was on him in an instant. The wind whooshed right out of his lungs as a taloned foot came down on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He grunted, bracing his right arm between him and the appendage trying to crush him while sticking his left arm between its toes.

The bird jerked its head down for another strike, the razor-pointed beak filling his vision like a guillotine.

He swung his left hand upward, the yo-yo flying high and it was by pure luck he got it right in the eye.

The Nevermore gave a pained cry, hopping back. Suddenly, Clover could breathe properly again. He jumped to his feet, slightly lightheaded, throwing his line out again in hopes of tying the creature up and bringing it down.

Instead, with exact precision, the bird caught the end of the yo-yo in its beak, pulling it taut, and then threw its body around, bringing what was on the end of the line with it. Before Clover could process it, his body was yanked forward and he went flying through the air. Everything around him blurred into a mesh of greens, blues, browns and whites, blending together into a sickening cacophony.

He braced himself for the impact.

It was softer, and warmer, then he expected.

“Not having a great day are you, lucky charm?”

He gathered his bearings, realizing who had caught him and jerked his head up in surprise. “Noir?!”

Noir grinned back roguishly, winking one green eye at him. “You know, if you wanted to fall into my arms, you just had to ask.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clover pushed a hand against his face, rolling out of his grasp to stand on his own. He retracted his yo-yo and studied his surroundings, taking note that he’d been tossed so far, they were underneath the Eiffel Tower. “What are you doing here?”

His teammate didn’t get a chance to answer, the bird giving another of those deafening screeches as it tried to shove itself between the legs of the tower. They both jerked away, before twisting around and running the other way.

“Could ask you the same thing!” Noir shouted over the noise. “Where’s Omen?”

“Lost track of her.” Which meant she was playing her normal A-game: Exhaust them by making them fight her pet so that it would be child’s play to steal their miraculous. Their goal was to defeat it – because if he could purify the contaminated feather within the creature, it would act like a direct attack against Omen, usually enough to weaken her into fleeing.

“Alright let’s – Watch it!”

Both of them jumped back when the corvid was suddenly in the path of their escape route, its gigantic foot missing them by inches when it was thrust under the tower, claws raking over the ground.

That was no good. Clover looked around, before pointing towards the ceiling of beams above them. “Up.”

Noir gave a nod, reaching out to grasp him around his waist and taking out his quarterstaff. He tapped it to the ground, and within seconds it shot them upwards as it extended. When it was high enough, they leapt onto the first section of metalwork, protected in the shell of crisscrossing steel. Noir compacted the weapon back into baton length, turning to him, “Alright, now what?”

“Now we just-” He started to say, raising his yo-yo, when the whole tower rattled as the Nevermore clamped onto the side they were hiding in. It gave a few wild cries, slamming its beak between the spaces as it tried to get to them.

Noir watched it warily before he called, “We’re safe for now, do it!”

Not wasting a moment, Clover threw his weapon up in the air with a cry, “Lucky charm!” The end of the yo-yo began to glow with the magic of creation, until it held the brilliance of a star. Then, with a pop, an item materialized, falling back down into his waiting hands.

It was a fishing rod.

Noir gave it, and then him, a dull look.

Clover was grinning. “Well, looks like-”

“Don’t-!”

“I’m giving fly fishing a whole new meaning.”

His partner groaned audibly. “You are worse than Tatsu.”

“No one is worse than Tatsu.” He joked. Tai’s never-ending set of puns really did fit the bill for cartoon-y superhero though.

Another slam from their enemy had dirt raining down on them from above.

Getting serious again, Clover rose both the rod and the yo-yo, saying, “You knock it off, I tie it up, and we end this.”

“Got it.” Noir nodded, pointing his staff towards the bird. “On your signal.”

He threw both lines upwards, yanking himself to a higher vantage point, running along the metalwork. They were so high up, it was like he was running towards the sky. Just as he got to the end, he yelled, “Now!”

At the same moment he jumped, the pole extended, slamming into the Nevermore’s chest. It was thrown off with a cry and both of them flew parallel to one another. He wound both weapons back then swung forward, the hook of the fishing rod and the ball of the yo-yo twisting around either wing of the bird. Flightless, it plummeted with another screech to the concrete, slamming down hard enough to shake the earth.

Clover’s landing was much softer, falling onto its chest and using the momentum to leap off of it like a trampoline, landing again several meters past its head. He held both the lines fast, ensuring it couldn’t get free.

“Cataclysm!” Noir came soaring out of the tower next, the power of his own destructive magic having taken shape at the end of his baton, glimmering black like an obsidian gem and curved like a scythe. As he came down, he swung it around, impaling the sharp end in the center of the monster bird’s chest.

It gave one last croaking cry, the ends of its wings curling up before falling flat as its body turned to dust, leaving nothing behind but a single, black feather. Clover threw out his yo-yo for it, the ball end splitting open like the shell of a ladybug’s wings, before snapping it up. He pulled it back in, hand open to catch it.

An arrow struck the end, knocking it off course.

In quick succession, another two arrows were shot off as Omen bared down for them, swooping in like a Nevermore herself. Clover swung the fishing rod, deflecting the one coming his way. Noir did the same for the one aimed at him with a quick spin of his staff, before using one end of it to vault himself upwards and meet their enemy half way.

As they grappled in the air, Clover took the chance to yank on his weapon in. With a flit of his fingers along the yo-yo’s surface, it glowed white, purifying the feather.

Omen gave a pained cry, before slamming the limb of her bow against Noir’s head. Clover’s chest tightened in panic, rushing forward as his partner fell like a stone from the sky. He just barely made up the distance in time to catch him in his arms, relieved to find him still conscious. They both looked up as they heard a scoff.

“Tch. Eventually your luck is going to run out. Nothing will stop me from creating a new world.” Omen sneered. “Until next time, boys.”

She shot an arrow above her, another red and black portal opening up. With a flap of her wings, she flew into it, gone as quickly as she had come.

Clover sighed, looking down at his partner. “You alright?”

“Ugh, gonna be feeling that one tomorrow.” Noir grunted, pressing a hand to his head, one of his leather cat ears being pushed down. His injury didn’t seem to hinder his ability to realize their position, because that telltale smirk overtook his face. “Though, guess I’m the one falling for you now.”

“I’m not above dropping you.”

“Are you always this mean to invalids?”

He loosened his hold just a smidge.

Noir clung to him. “Okay, message received.”

Clover set him on his feet, seeing the people starting to trickle back in to investigate the scene.

Time to go.

Once they were safely hidden on the rooftops, hidden in the shadows of a chimney, Luckybug turned to him with that million-watt smile. “Thanks for the assist. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Qrow lent back against the brick. As he spoke, his normally rough voice came out even rougher around the edges; the way it always did when he was Noir. “I’m sure you woulda figured it out lucky charm.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to.” He replied, averting his gaze down. He spun the white feather between his fingers, frowning in consternation. “I still don’t understand how she got here though. Her portals shouldn’t be able to reach this far.”

Any other time, he would have been eager to ponder over the details of this latest attack with him, but he knew his time was running short and something more important was on his mind. “Could say the same about you. You got family out here?”

The frown became more defined. “Noir, you know I can’t-”

“Tell me, I know.” He waved off the excuse. “But that could change, if you told me who you really are.”

Lucky sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “Okay, what brought this all on again?”

Qrow met that blue-eyed gaze he’d once fallen in love with, feeling like everything between them was as thin as the wire of the other’s yo-yo. Uncertain and easy to break. If he wanted to make it stronger, he needed something more.

Now or never.

“Look, all that flirting I do? It’s not for show.” He pushed off the wall, clearing the few steps of distance between them. His heart raced in his ears. “I like you. A lot. I want to get to know you, the real you. But, I need to know if I even got a shot.”

“Noir…” He knew the answer before the other even spoke. It was all over his face, etched in his sad smile and downturned brows. “I’m sorry, but my heart’s already with someone else.”

“Oh.” He turned away.

Funny, he thought it’d hurt more.

A tentative hand rested on his shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Qrow replied, surprised that he meant it.

Before more could be said, both their miraculous started to beep in warning.

The hand slipped away. “Guess time’s up. I’ll… see you around?”

Qrow nodded, hearing Lucky retreat along the roof. Before he could leap away, he called, “Hey, that person of yours. Do they know?”

“I, uh.” Gravel crunched underfoot as his teammate shifted his weight anxiously. “Not yet.”

“You should tell ‘em.” He looked over his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Lucky’s eyes widened, and then he was smiling back. “Thanks. Someone’s going to be really lucky to have you too, one day.”

Qrow reached for his staff, heading his own way. “Well, duh. I’m incredible.”

The other cast his line, flying away with a laugh. Qrow watched him go, before dropping down into the alleyway. He ducked down behind some boxes just in time, the leather bodysuit falling back into his normal wear.

Blake collapsed into his hair with a sigh. “I’m going to need about fifteen more sardines.”

“Glutton.” He got to his feet, knowing his nest of black hair would hide her just fine as he headed for the sidewalk.

“Qrow? Are you okay?”

Answering it the second time around wasn’t any harder then the first. “Yeah. I just needed to know for sure. Now I know it’s okay to let him go.”

She didn’t respond verbally, but he felt the way she nuzzled his head, though whether it was meant to be for comfort or encouragement was hard to say. Maybe both.

It took about fifteen minutes to get back to the share house he and a half-dozen other students were living in for the duration of the program. When he stepped inside, he found it oddly quiet, the only noise a slight shuffling in the kitchen. A glance revealed his twin sister was there, hunched over the counter, nursing a cup of tea in one hand as she pressed her forehead into the other.

Heh, maybe she felt him get clonked in the head earlier. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled. “Just a migraine.”

He lowered his voice, “You the only one here?”

Not up for talking more, Raven merely nodded.

Strange, Clover should have been back by now. “Okay, I’ll make sure to tell everyone to be quiet when they get in. Feel better, sis.”

She offered him a weak smile. He ducked out of the kitchen, heading back for his room. As Blake floated down to her still open can of tiny fish for a much-needed recharge, Qrow snatched up his phone to send out the group message, only to find two missed messages from Clover.

The first one was from nearly an hour ago. Sorry, running late!

On my way now. You won’t believe what happened at the Eiffel Tower. That one was from just a few minutes ago.

Qrow quirked a smile. If Clover only knew…

He tapped back a reply. I know. I went out to try and get a view of it. Forgot my phone.

He could see the other was replying, but he switched to the group text in the meantime, sending out a warning to be quiet for his twin. He’d just hit send, when another string of texts came through, one right after the other:

How do you forget your phone? You’re supposed to get photographic evidence!

Anyways I’ll be there in a few.

Also, noted.

Qrow headed for his bed, flopping across the sheets with a groan. The aches of the day were starting to set in, and he felt ready for a shower and a nap. He buried his pounding head into his pillow, shutting his eyes.

He didn’t open them again until he heard the bedroom door click shut. He rose up on his elbows, scanning the room quickly. The sardine can was gone, as was Blake.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Clover asked as he crossed the room, dropping his bag on his bed.

“Wasn’t asleep.” He ran a hand over his face, adding, “Much as I wanted to be.”

“You doing alright? You look pretty beat.”

Beat up was more like it.

“Been a long day.” He offered as explanation. It did little to wipe the concern from the other’s face. “I’m fine Cloves. We got that paper to work on.”

Clover ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Sure we do but we can take it easy for tonight. Can’t say I wouldn’t mind to turn in early myself.”

“You? Mr. Extra Credit?”

“Haha, very funny. I mean it. I have this terrible crick in my neck. Oh!” He dropped his hand so he could go digging into his bag. “But hey, I did bring you something that just might cheer you up.”

That got Qrow to finally sit up, trying not to seem too eager as the other procured a small, white box and held it out towards him. He reached across the space between their beds to take the gift. Once it was safely on his side, he pulled open the top.

“It probably got a little smooshed, but it’ll taste the same.” Clover was right about that – the cake had fallen on its side, and smears of icing clung to the top and sides of the box.

Qrow swiped a finger across one of them, gathering just enough to take a taste, and his eyes lit up. “Double German chocolate? You’re too good to me.”

“Nah, I can be better. Because I have… a fork!” Clover waved the plastic utensil around, winking his way. “What would you do without me?”

“Probably have less dorky interactions to deal with.” He replied, reaching out again.

Instead of grabbing the tines, he curled his fingers over where the other’s held onto the handle.

Qrow deliberately met his gaze, smiling as suavely as he could. “Thank you, Clover.”

Though his cheeks turned a little pink, Clover met him match for match with his own charming smile. “Anytime.”

As they both pulled back, they couldn’t help but think this was the start of something good.

Underneath their beds, unbeknownst to them both, Ruby and Blake shared knowing smiles.

#clover ebi #qrow branwen #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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