#in december i might have weighed a lot more but i felt great
Photo
my album "ultramarine" turned five years old yesterday. its name refers to the color of the photo that comprises its album art.
at the time i released this album, i hadn't released anything of significance that wasn't chiptune in about four years. the last such release was "brown plaid," the spiritual predecessor to this album.
("brown plaid" was also a december release, but don't worry - no anniversary posts for that one until next year, when it turns ten.)
that album was slow, personal, vulnerable. naturally, to my mind, this one Had™ to be slower, more personal, and more vulnerable in order to be "worth it." and that's okay, because i was in the space to do that.
see, within those four years since "brown plaid," i had:
begun to lean heavily into chiptunes for my live sets due to a number of factors, phasing out non-chiptune songs from my setlists
released two full-length chiptune albums ("veneer," "don't worry, you're great!")
gotten to do a lot of really cool stuff i would've never imagined as a result of said leaning into chiptunes
but the latter part of that period existed in overlap with an era of my life that i spent wounded and miserable. i was under an incredible amount of stress, staring into that feedback-looping void of capitalism being ready and willing to discard me. medical issues were popping up. the mental health care i had access to ranged from mediocre at best to abysmal at worst - for as long i had access to it at all, that is.
i wrote most of "don't worry, you're great!'' during this period as affirmations for myself because i desperately needed them, and i hoped that those songs could help others in that way. (some people have been kind enough to share with me that they really did, which i appreciate beyond measure.)
that same energy went into "ultramarine" - but instead of affirmation, it was for validation; validation of the more cynical feelings and experiences that weighed heavily upon me at the time. so to go back and release something like that was daunting because not only was it Not Chiptune at a time i'd come to be known for being Very Chiptune, more importantly, it felt like a betrayal of those who found something to connect with in the optimism of "don't worry, you're great!" i still kind of feel this way, to be honest. that's part of why i haven't gone back to celebrate this one very often. this was the first album for which i declined to press CDs, and i've never performed any of the songs live. hell, it's not even up on my youtube (fixing that soon).
but there's a lot in there that's special, i think. i go off-vocoder in almost every song, and it's easily my most vocal album in that manner. i mean, the first track is fully-acapella save for a sustained string chord! and having not followed it up, it's still very easily my most personal and vulnerable album. given the circumstances of the time, it might stay that way.
in retrospect, would i do some things differently? yeah. five years of music production experience later, the album sounds about five years of production experience worse. that's fine. i regret chickening out and revising the lyrics of songs like "precious" to be more optimistic than i truly felt. i didn't want people to worry about me. i guess it worked out.
anyway, i should stop before i go on too long. "ultramarine" is unique in my discography for a number of reasons, and it'll remain so (even with the spiritual sequel it's getting). five years out, i can say i'm glad i released it, despite everything.
listen to and download "ultramarine" for free / name-your-price here.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
December 15 — A Lot to Take In
Current weight: ?
I did come home yesterday and weighed myself in the evening, but I like to use my morning weight until I get to my target. Then I’ll focus on maintain my desired weight with a +/- 5lb range, even with clothes on and during the day.
Thursday, December 15:
Breakfast — Large iced Coffee with coconut milk, chickpea salad, m&m cookie
Lunch — 3 desserts, RX bar, iced coffee with coconut milk
1 Twix ice cream bar, 2 RX bars
Dinner — Pan grilled veggies with shrimp and avocado (my usual), 1 RX bar
Sheesh, I felt like I ate sooooo much yesterday, but I guess now that I look at it it’s not too bad. It’s just a lot for me, and I definitely overate, but overall a couple days off protocol isn’t a big obstacle to my desired results.
I want to look at a couple models that lead me to overeat. During our time together, my friend said the words “you’re making me feel like a fatass” because I continuously made choices in alignment with my protocol, while she ate how she wanted to. So let’s use that neutral circumstance and see what thoughts I had and how that created my feelings actions and results.
Reminder: c — circumstance, t — thought, f — feeling, a — action, r — result
C: friend says, “you’re making me feel like a fat ass”
T: I’m hurting my friend
F: guilty
A: order cookies at Starbucks and Panera, eat entire bag of salted macadamia nuts, eat 4 RX bars, eat desserts earlier than planned, buy Twix ice cream bar and eat it, not allow urges to eat
R: Lose weight slower, possibly get a pimple later, I hurt myself
Another model I want to observe is about the thought I had once I started overeating. The first time this happened was when I ate all those macadamia nuts. That becomes a neutral circumstance.
C: Ate more than 1 handful of salted macadamia nuts
T: Oh god the floodgates are open now
F: Terror
A: order cookies with my coffee, buy & eat twix ice cream bar, buy & eat RX bars, not allow urges
R: I create mental drama around an action I took, I take longer to reach my goal
In both of these instances, it was my thoughts that created my results. My friend saying words is neutral. Me eating more than 1 handful of macadamia nuts is neutral. My thoughts about these facts were the things that lead me to further overeat. So I’m going to write an intentional model for what my friend said. Brooke (the leader of my life coach program) says that in order to reach our goals, especially with food, we have to be willing to disappoint people. Sometimes people offer us food as a way to bond with us, but we have to put our goals first. Furthermore, we don’t make people feel disappointed. Their thoughts make them feel disappointed. We can only ever be a neutral circumstance in someone else’s model. So!
C: my friend says, “you’re making me feel like a fat ass”
T: her thoughts create her feelings
F: secure
A: continue eating according to my protocol, not overeat, allow feelings of guilt or discomfort
R: I reach my goals faster, I take responsibility for my own thoughts, feelings, actions, and results; I allow my friend to feel what she’s feeling and show up as my authentic self
C: I ate more than 1 handful of salted macadamia nuts
T: Time to pay more attention to what I’m thinking and feeling
F: Curious
A: Allow feelings of fear, discomfort, guilt, shame and whatever else might come up as I go about my day, allow urges to eat more
R: I increase my capacity for discomfort, I stay committed to my goal
I’ll write more in tonight’s post, but this morning I only weighed 192.5, so I didn’t gain any weight during this trip anyway. Plus, I was hungry after breakfast already! Ultimately, this was a fantastic learning experience. I will continue running into pressure from other people to eat off protocol, I will continue to get urges and have uncomfortable emotions come up. This is all great training and practice for being the new me that I want to be. Future me will think nothing of someone commenting about my dietary choices, because she’s so secure and has been eating this way for a long time.
#me#fitness#fitness journey#weight loss#food journal#food diary#gym selfie#gif of me#170#learning moment
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Year 3: December (Part I)
Ao3 link
Dear Minister Valorum,
You probably already know me by now, whether it be by my reputation as the “Chosen One” or from all the interviews I’ve done for the TriWizard Tournament, but I’m Anakin Skywalker. I’m also a familiar name to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for my mother, Shmi Skywalker’s, kidnapping. It’s been a while since I’ve received any updates from them and all of my letters have mostly gone unanswered except for the occasional automatic reply. I didn’t even know wizards had such a thing until Obi-Wan pointed it out to me.
In any case, I figure it was time I went straight for the top. It’s December already, meaning we’re approaching a year since my mother went missing. I thought maybe you could get them back on track, refocus and all that. I know they’ve got a lot going on with Dooku blowing things up in the middle of the street. I heard he struck again in a wizarding village near Calvary just this morning. I didn’t hear it from the Daily Prophet strangely, but from friends with people in higher places. I guess when nobody dies, it doesn’t get reported like that.
I know the tournament is a chance for wizarding unity and that I’m supposed to be a big part of that, but if I’m honest, the whole reason I wanted to join was to get my mother’s story out there. Instead, it’s beginning to feel like it’s being drowned out by all the other noise. Since I’ve proven myself as an actual opponent, I think it’s time that my story gets heard. There’s a lot of momentum here for me at Hogwarts, but I’ve got time in between classes.
Let me know if you want to talk and more importantly, if you’ve got any information on where she may be.
I know she’s out there, Minister, she wouldn’t just leave me like that.
Sincerely,
Anakin Skywalker, TriWizard Champion/Chosen One
“I’m not sure the monikers of Champion or Chosen One are truly necessary at the end,” A sudden voice mused, “You’ve already mentioned them in the beginning when you introduced yourself.”
Anakin, having not even realized he wasn’t alone in the Owlery, jumped and very nearly lost the letter to the December wind. It would have been a damn travesty if he had, considering Anakin had spent a great deal of time that morning trying to print his very best handwriting. He felt if anyone was worthy of it, it was the Minister of Magic.
“Jeeze, Obi-Wan!” He complained, “Warn a guy before you startle him from on top of a tower.”
Some of the owls squawked in what could be translated in agreement or otherwise, and Obi-Wan winced as a few fluttered away at the sudden intrusion of voices interrupting their breakfast of mice and bugs.
“Apologies,” He nodded awkwardly, “I hadn’t meant to scare you.”
“I’m a Champion, I don’t get scared,” He reminded himself and his mentor. That’s how the papers were branding him, anyway, and while Anakin refused to let it go to his head like the previous year, he couldn’t deny that this image might help him down the line. He didn’t want to be seen as the little boy that went running and crying to Obi-Wan every time he needed help.
Obi-Wan seemed to mentally weigh the value in arguing this point and chose against it, which was just fine to Anakin. He had enough to do that day and it didn’t involve debating with his mentor next to a bunch of disgruntled birds.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Anakin asked, moving away from the subject. “Mailing out for a prescription of more maps and legal mumbo jumbo?”
Obi-Wan had been stuffed up to his nose in reading materials as of recent and every time Anakin asked what they had to do with the tournament, he was promptly and politely rejected. Seeing as many of them had to do with slipping out of binding agreements, Anakin could only wonder what his mentor had gotten himself into.
“Er- no,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, looking immensely disheartened for a moment. So much so that Anakin almost regretted asking in the first place, but before he could ask, the lapse in demeanor had passed and Obi-Wan’s intellectual “prefect” mode had returned, “For one thing, that’s subscription not prescription . And well… I have no such use for those sorts of documents anymore.”
“Well, good,” Anakin said, taking note of the sharp breath Obi-Wan took and held before releasing. He looked a lot more defeated than Anakin expected him to be, especially since Obi-Wan never seemed to care much about winning before. “Now, you’ll have more time to figure out what the blank paper for the next task means.”
“True enough,” He nodded and ran a hand through his perfectly quaffed hair, which was somehow impervious to the elements that were simultaneously sending strands of Anakin’s hair on end, “I’ve already drawn together some possible theories, but all are just symbolic nonsense at the moment.”
It was then that they lapsed into another silence, which only Anakin seemed to find awkward, seeing as Obi-Wan’s line of sight was set distantly over the horizon. He followed his gaze, which trailed down towards Hogsmeade village. Anakin had to admit, a warm butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks sounded divine right now. They’d be decorating the village in Christmas lights soon, which was always a spectacle to be seen. He didn’t look overly excited about it though.
“Do you have any interviews coming up?” Anakin asked, taking a guess that sitting through a line of questioning would make Obi-Wan so maudlin.
“Oh,” He snapped out of his reverie and shook his head, “No, honestly, I don’t think I’ll be doing much of those anymore, even if they wanted to.”
“Ah come on, you didn’t lose that badly,” Anakin patted him on the arm, “Who could have predicted that a great white shark would show up in the black lake? I mean, it’s no dragon , but still, that’s pretty scary.”
“Yes, indeed, it was…” He trailed off, seeming to go deep within himself again, “Rather unforeseen.”’
“I’ll say,” Anakin nodded, “You should ask your parents to hook you up with some of the parties they’ve set up for me! It makes interviews way more fun if there’s games, pumpkin juice, and sweets!”
“Something tells me that’s not what they’d have in store for me,” Obi-Wan muttered, but straightened, fixing Anakin with a fond look, “And besides, you’ve earned all the glory from your performance in the first task. I’d hardly like to steal your spotlight, especially since your intentions to utilize it are far purer than anything I’d conjure up.”
Anakin wasn’t so sure about that. Obi-Wan was, without a doubt, the straightest shooter Anakin had ever met. He wasn’t devious nor deceiving in the slightest and hardly did anything for his own personal gain. Even though Anakin was annoyed when he was babied by the older student, he knew that his intentions were always pure of heart.
Still, he wanted his mum back, and was doing everything he could to make that happen.
Before he could come up with a proper response to that, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and made to move around Anakin, waving just slightly a letter of his own with a cherry red seal at the clasp.
“I did write them, though, and I’d hate for it to be late.” He sighed rather drearily as he handed the letter over to the Kenobi family bird. It was nothing like Artoo, even if a purebred in its own right, as it never looked particularly pleased and wasn’t half as beautiful. Still, it accepted the envelope after pecking Obi-Wan just once on the hand, and flapped its wings twice before taking flight and soaring up and away.
They watched the bird go for a moment, Anakin never truly ever being able to get over the means of mail travel in their world. It was simultaneously vintage and new age at the same time for him.
Looking at Obi-Wan and the solemn expression on his face as he watched the bird disappear where the sky met the ground, Anakin figured now was not the best time to mention all of the lovely letters the Kenobis and their associates have written him. They explained that they were giving Obi-Wan the distance he needed, but Anakin realized then that there was something inexplicably lonely about his mentor.
And it hadn’t seemed quite so obvious until now. Maybe that was because Cody and Satine were never far behind him. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen Obi-Wan with them nearly as much as before.
“Are you coming to the party later? I’m sure the press wouldn’t mind talking to you too. Even if just about you being my mentor.” He urged.
Obi-Wan smiled faintly, “No, that’s quite alright. Anakin, let’s be fair, today you are their hero. You deserve your glorious day with the press and politicians.”
“If you say so,” Anakin shrugged, “I’m guessing Cody is going to be there.”
“And the other Champions most likely,” Obi-Wan conceded, “I’ll likely be branded as a poor sport for not showing, but really, I’ve got a lot of homework to catch up on.”
“Only you would trade a party for homework,” He snorted.
“Do you make a habit out of wasting people’s time?” A smooth yet snarky voice halted Caleb in his steps to yet another of Anakin’s victory conferences. Everyone was rallying around the kid with posters and banners now resembling Gryffindor’s colors rather than Ravenclaw’s and he, like any sane Gryffindor, was determined to be a part of that.
That being said, he most certainly dropped the confetti cannon that he’d just finished loading with red and gold strands of glittery plastic at the sight of Hera Syndulla standing strong with hands on her hips and a furrow to her brow.
“Huh?” He replied dumbly.
“Or have I somehow been unclear?” She considered, stepping closer to him, but not at all looking like she was actually seeking an answer to either of these questions.
All at once, his brain seemed to make a whirring sound inside his skull and he was having a difficult time processing anything other than how lovely her skin shone in the mid-afternoon sun that glinted through the window. Even while clearly miffed with him about… Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, her eyes were like beacons of emerald glittering with emotion.
He suspected he looked pretty pathetic there, standing with a bright tube of confetti at his feet and red and gold paint on his face. He was mentally thankful that he hadn’t been the one to wear the lion’s head this time. Whichever of the Fett twins were given the honor would do so with grace and humor.
After standing through her persistent gaze for a beat longer than necessary, he finally was able to force himself enough to the present.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you aren’t going to Skywalker’s party?” He teased lightly, because that was always an easier approach than to go straight to it.
Hera seemed to disagree, because her frown and subsequent look of disappointment deepened, “And I’m going to go out on a limb and say that wasn’t an invitation.”
Now it was Caleb’s turn to frown, “Well, you don’t need an invitation. Everyone is welcome, regardless of who won the first task.”
“And if that weren’t true?”
“Did someone say it wasn’t true?” He asked immediately, ready to make a serious point to anyone that tried to forbid Hera from attending. “Because it’s basically free food and drinks while Skywalker gives a statement in front of the press. I’ll talk to anyone that says otherwise-”
“-No,” She rolled her eyes, “But if it weren’t , would you have asked me?”
“I wouldn’t go to any event where everyone wasn’t invited,” He said firmly, but was disappointed to see that Hera was not satisfied by this answer. It was what he believed in, of course, and he’d think she would too.
“Yes, that’s great and all, but I’m not asking for nobility right now,” She said, growing more frustrated by the minute, “Look, I’m a very busy girl, as you well know.”
“Yeah, I mean, being a Champion seems like a lot,” He said with a nod, “Not to mention your various other commitments. Your family’s business, Quidditch, model ministry, being Head Girl, prefect duties, homework, being a flying instructor...”
“And do you think I'm foolish if I were to add something else to that list?” She asked.
Caleb felt his mouth go dry. There weren’t any other people around. Most had likely already made their way into the great hall to enjoy the snacks and excitement of increased media attention. It was surprising that Headmaster Yoda had allowed them to come, but rumor had it, the Ministry pushed for it and won in this case.
Most importantly, they were alone.
He thought about what Cody had been saying to him about how Hera seemed interested in him too. That much had been nearly impossible to take then and was still difficult to imagine now. However, the look she was giving him- all hope and brightness thinly veiled by skepticism and caution- were indicative of so much more than he could ever hope.
Surely, she wasn’t asking him out. Or leading up to it. She looked more like she wanted to punch him in the head.
“It depends what that something or someone is,” He said with a soft nervous chuckle, trying not to break the spell between them and willing the universe not to let him down this time. Unless he chose to go against the grain of his house and run in the complete opposite direction, a shift between them was happening. “Whether or not you think they deserve your time.”
“Ah so you aren’t completely dense,” She mock clapped, “You can use deductive reasoning.”
“Sometimes,” He offered, “It’s not exactly my strongest suit all of the time.”
“Well, I thought they were worth it.” She said with a limp shrug, “When we were talking every day and laughing over their dumb jokes. When they were really listening to me and not just spacing out every time I spoke.”
“Hey, not that dumb,” He said weakly. “And I wasn’t spacing out.”
“Oh yeah?” She challenged him.
“I’ve listened to every single thing you’ve said,” He responded with confidence, “I might have been a little reasonably distracted, but it registered… Even if there is a delay. It still resonated one way or another.”
“Is that so?”
“I mean, don’t ask me to list sentences verbatim, but I know your family runs a travel company, your dream is to fly around the entire world and help needy families. I know your favorite color is green, but your favorite to wear is orange. You like the summer for its food and freedom, but prefer winter clothes. Your biggest pet peeve is when people don’t take risks and you have a recurring dream that you’re falling upwards and you can’t tell if it’s a dream or a nightmare.” He released a deep breath, noting that her expression hadn’t changed much.
She was definitely still eyeing him carefully and a bit closer, but all in all kept a steady focus. It wasn’t the colors of disappointment that it had been, but Caleb was realizing even as he listed off some of the key facts about Hera Syndulla, that he was the one who hadn’t taken risks.
“And even though I’ve memorized a lot of this, I clearly hadn’t taken a necessary page,” He sighed, “But I tried to ask you.”
“Really? Because nothing ever really got to me.” She crossed her arms.
“The timing wasn’t right,” He shook his head, “I wanted it to be big, to be perfect. I didn’t want to ask right after you lost either.”
“I didn’t lose. I took second,” She reminded him, “Very narrowly, might I add.”
“True, but I was pretty intimidated by it. I have been since I first met you and thought it was crazy you even chose to talk to me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re you.” He gestured to her, unsure how she wasn’t seeing what he was.
“And you’re you,” She mimicked him.
“So?”
“So, that’s pretty great to me,” She flushed, “And the fact that you can’t see that is making all of this confusion make a lot more sense. I have been patient all semester for you to ask me out and you never do. If I had hair, I’d want to rip it out!”
“The timing was killing me, but I’m realizing that there’s truly never going to be a good time,” He echoed the advice he’d been given, renewed strength flowing through him. “And that part of the problem, was me.”
“Just part of it?”
“Hey, I’m trying to lead up to something here,” He held out a hand and felt his heart stutter as she took it.
“Now would be especially dreadful,” She smiled slowly, if not daringly. Deep in her eyes, despite what her mouth said, she couldn’t look happier at the prospect. This made for the damning undeniable proof that Hera liked him. She liked him .
“Since you’re utterly pissed with my courtship incompetence.” He teased.
“That much can be remedied.” She sniffed, “If you’re up to the task.”
A slow smile spread across his lips, “Hera Syndulla, will you-”
“-Guys, come quick!” Cikatro Vizago came bursting through the great hall doors, his usual cocky demeanor completely gone. He took one moment to survey the situation at hand, offered Caleb a sly and knowing grin, and then waved for them to follow over his shoulder, “Ziro is publicly accusing Hogwarts of stealing Jabba’s son! Everyone’s about to fight!”
Feeling as though sand had filled his lungs at the sheer ludicrousy of this intrusion, Caleb gaped and was about to move to follow Cikatro before a firm hand touched his arm.
“That’s very important,” Hera said tightly, “But before we go, will you agree to go to the Yule Ball with me?”
He looked at the door and then he looked at her. Screw timing.
“Hell yeah,” Was all he could think to say. Judging by Hera’s smile, it was the right thing to say.
Cody had been weighing on whether or not to attend Skywalker’s press junket. It didn’t exactly feel like a pep rally or anything more than a big excuse for the Kenobis to show off that they were adoptive parents of the year. Obi-Wan hadn’t said this much, of course, but considering the direction his friend was heading in, he doubted he ever would. That didn’t mean Cody couldn’t read between the lines on his own.
He just wasn’t sure if he felt like dealing with the politics of this damn tournament right now. He’d just come off a pretty solid workout sans the champion he was supposed to be training and didn’t want any negativity to bring down his day.
Then again, it had felt wrong not to support Skywalker by attending. He just didn’t see why the Kenobis insisted on having so many of these events. Seeing as Dooku had blown up a house in Calvary just that day, it felt like waving the kid around like a piece of meat.
Either way, Cody found his way to the great hall just as it was bustling with enthusiastic outrage, particularly from Hogwarts students. There were plenty of angry students from the other schools as well, but none compared to the host school, which was absolutely volatile in response.
Ziro was on stage, not appearing very affected by this response, though was obviously ignoring both Yoda’s and Windu’s attempts at ushering him off the stage. It was unclear whether or not Skywalker actually got to talk, because the Kenobis had presumably removed the kid from the scene as the press had quickly changed its focus.
It seemed like all three schools were ready to go at each other’s throats and were seconds from doing so until Headmaster Yoda segmented each faction of students under their own bubble, forcing them apart. Everyone was confused for a moment, which provided him the time to be able to amplify his voice above all their cries and shouts.
“Investigate this we will, Headmaster Tiure.” He said, “But tear us apart, we will not allow this. Go back to your dormitories, you all will. Peacefully and efficiently.”
Everyone seemed to debate on how well they were going to comply, especially the students from the other schools, until Headmaster Se nodded encouragingly and Ziro merely huffed in reluctant approval. So, everyone started to slowly dwindle out of the great hall, starting with the paparazzi, who were very disappointed that their time was cut short.
“What’s going on?” Cody asked, pulling Rex to the side.
“It was so sudden,” Rex said, brow furrowed and focused as he tried to look over the larger students that blocked his way, “Ziro is accusing someone from Hogwarts of Hutt-napping Jabba’s son.”
“Based on what?” Cody frowned.
“Apparently, they found his baby blanket in the professor’s corridor today.” Rex said, “Not much else got out beyond that.”
“Sounds fishy to me,” Cody said.
“I heard the blanket smelled fishy too.” He said, “Then someone accused Durmstrang of being salty about Quinlan taking third and they got into an uproar.”
“Beauxbatons has been pretty quiet if you ask me,” Fives said as he came over. Both he and Echo were playing the part of lion mascot today, it seemed, but each looked ferocious in their anger.
“They’re all shady,” Echo agreed.
“Not all of them,” Caleb Dume cut in sharply.
“Yeah, whatever, Romeo.” Fives huffed, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s pretty convenient that Ziro would drop this bombshell during Skywalker’s victory press junket.”
“To be fair, he’s had quite a few of those.” Cody said, “It’s not like this is the first time he’s talked to the press.”
“Who cares? It’s the last time it’ll happen before the next task most likely,” Echo said and turned to Rex, “You should probably catch up with him, mate. Who knows what the killer Kenobis are poisoning his head with?”
Rex scowled, “Why do I feel like you’re just trying to get rid of me so you can talk amongst yourselves?”
Cody palmed Rex’s buzzed head and smirked, “Because you’re pretty smart. Now, go on.”
Rolling his eyes, Rex cut through the swarm of moving children in hopes of finding Anakin. When he was fully submerged into the crowd, Fives and Echo turned to Cody with matching grimaces coloring their identical faces.
“So, what good news do you two have for me?” He snorted.
“We overheard the boys talking. They were pretty pissed you didn’t show today.” Fives said.
“I’m here now,” Cody gestured around them and despite this, no one seemed to really pay any mind, “And no one’s exactly had the bollocks to come up and say anything to my face about it.”
“It’s just this bloody tournament,” Echo sighed heavily, “It’s like they’ve forgotten everything you’ve done for this house through the years.”
“And we aren’t going to stand to hear it,” Fives added as they walked, “We’re brothers first, housemates second, after all.”
“Boys, I appreciate the concern and the loyalty,” Cody had to smile at that too, because if there was anyone that had his back, it was his squad. His original squad. The Fetts stuck together through the thickest of situations and nothing about that was going to change. “However, I don’t want you sticking your necks out for me. I’m out this year. You lot have a few years left, not to mention Rexy having the latter half of his education ahead of him.”
“That’s why we sent him on,” Echo said, “That, and he’d been a little trigger-happy since Krell came back.”
“He’ll be fine,” Cody assured, “If anyone thinks I’m not going to support my best mate through this tournament, they can take that up with me directly.”
“You mean… It doesn’t bother you that some are talking about stripping you of your title?” Fives asked tentatively, not wanting to upset his older brother, but also feeling as though this was something that should be known.
Cody knew his emotions had to be at least slightly transparent, because both sets of eyes watching him saddened a bit, but he took a page from Kenobi’s book and shoved his feelings on the matter in check, “They can try, but Windu would never allow for it.”
“That’s true,” Echo nodded, “It’s not like it’s all of Gryffindor asking for it, anyway.”
“Just some very loud ones,” Fives said, still not including exactly who was saying these things behind Cody’s back.
“Anyone actually from the Quidditch squad?” He asked.
They thought about it and then winced, “I heard Clovis had a thing or two to say about it, but no one of any real importance or shock.”
“Certainly not the starters,” Echo said, “They’d never dream of it.”
“Look, mates, if the people I care about don’t think so low of me, then I can live with that. Anyone else can happily tell themselves whatever stories of treason they want to tell. That’s on them.” Cody said firmly, “I’ve got other things to worry about, like how the hell I’m going to tie a bow tie.”
Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly disappointed that Ventress had turned on her heels upon seeing him approach down the hall, but was rather curious that between the two of them, she was fleeing him . It wasn’t as though he was looking for her anyway. In fact, his true intentions for wandering the castle so late were to do some investigating of his own on this supposed kidnapping. And by investigating, he’d intended on stopping by the Headmaster’s office.
He didn’t quicken his pace, only continued as he went, not enthusiastic in the slightest to catch up, but not retreating either. Though unmistakably downtrodden, he was replaced with a sensation of having very little to lose at this point.
“I’d heard you attended Anakin’s party,” He said plainly, nodding courteously at a passing ghost or two, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to leech off of a different contender now.”
He was being facetious, of course, but even as a joke the concept still sickened him. Ventress was a poisonous knife that Obi-Wan was more than willing to take for Anakin, amongst many other threats. As it were, many were pointing out that he didn’t need such protection from him.
He didn’t give off any discomfort, lest she discover leverage to hold over him. Instead, she turned, rolling her eyes as she did so and crossing her arms over her torso.
“And what, exactly, else was I to do?” She asked, her voice icy and unforgiving.
He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, “Doesn’t really speak of loyalty to your betrothed.”
She narrowed cobalt eyes until they were thin slits, her frown deep and contemplative at what his move here was. In all fairness, he went against the grain of his house in this regard, because he didn’t have one. He just knew he was angry and that it was very easy to be callous to Ventress, who would never be a victim to anyone.
“You’ve not exactly given me much to work with,” She turned her pointed nose up.
“I believe I could say the same,” Obi-Wan commented snarkily, “Your cynicism and cruelty is hardly an endearing trait.”
“Good,” She said, “I’d much prefer fear to admiration from the likes of you. You wouldn’t know true esteem if it smacked you in the face.”
He disagreed, but changed course, “So, it’s fearsome to throw yourself at the mercy of the press all in order to gain status and popularity.”
“Do not even try to pretend you are superior than I am in that regard,” She seethed.
“I am not posting myself in front of the cameras for all to gawk at.” He said and then added, “Not willingly, anyway.”
“You’re wallowing and saving face, just as they want you to,” She laughed, “Do you truly believe you’ve been acting in anything but their own accordance? You may run, but you haven’t escaped that squeaky wheel.”
“I made it clear I wasn’t going to,” He said.
“No, no, I heard,” She smirked, “So sad to hear it all come down in flames and not have a proper audience to watch.”
“You’re foul,” He said.
“Maybe, but I’m tradition,” She said, “And true to tradition, I am following the direction of the family. Seeing as you couldn’t be bothered to lift yourself from your own self-pity, you wouldn’t know that.”
She turned back, continuing towards what he assumed was the Slytherin common room and their steps, though far apart in distance, were in perfect synchronization. He couldn’t see up close, but the tension in her shoulders insinuated that this was grating on her.
“Is that so?” He asked. “Because last year, you tried to kill Anakin all in the name of a dark crusade that I can and never will support so long as I live. And now, you’re riding his coattails like a pathetic harpy? If anyone has my pity, it’s you.”
She turned again, pointing a sharp finger at him. If they were standing closer, he was sure she’d have slapped him, “You go right ahead and stand on your pillar of righteousness, but do not come crying to me when the only way off of it is by the noose that’s already wrapped around your neck.”
“And who placed it there?” He asked coldly.
“Not me,” She said. “You’ve lost. Now grow up and get over it.”
“I don’t care about losing this tournament,” He said firmly, “I care about Anakin’s safety.”
“I wasn’t talking about the tournament,” She smiled and it wasn’t comforting nor was it intended to be. Instead, it served as a chilling reminder of what was to come. He didn’t think it was possible to dislike her any more, but had achieved new heights just then. All the same, it was his self-loathing that truly increased.
“Is this what awaits us?” He voiced his own woes for a moment, the anger deflating from him all at once.
“Don’t you worry, dear,” She bore her teeth as she said it, meaning it was just as loathsome to say as it was to hear coming from her, “Come the Yule Ball, I will be back on your arm like the ball and chain I am designed to be. And we will be on the next news cycle as intended.”
“I don’t recall asking you.” He said.
“I don’t recall you having any other choice.”
With tensions running high throughout the school surrounding Ziro’s accusation, Anakin was largely left unattended. Press when it could sneak its way in was now harassing professors and the various headmasters who had little more to say on the matter then that it was under investigation. Anakin, however, was a man of opportunity.
Windu was off busy dealing with the investigators most days which left plenty of opportunity for Anakin to resume an activity he hadn’t had the chance to in awhile. Sneaking about the castle. The tunnels, while most had been closed the previous year, the ones within the walls of the castle were starting to lose the charms that had been placed on them. Hogwarts castle was practically a living thing after all and it certainly hadn’t authorized a facelift. The tunnels to outside the grounds remained fiercely closed much to his disappointment, but he supposed he wasn’t trying to break into Hogsmeade these days.
“Check this out,” Anakin boasted to Rex as he tapped his wand on a few stones watching as the wall melted away, “This tunnel’s nearly completely reformed!”
“And this one leads...?” Rex was standing by writing on a bit of parchment from the light of his wand tip.
“To just inside the Great Hall!” Anakin exclaimed gleefully.
“Wait,” Rex frowned, “There wasn’t a tunnel to the Great Hall before.”
Anakin shrugged, “It decided to change,” He said as though it were obvious, but he was still reeling over the tunnel that now led into the lake instead of Slytherin’s common room. He had learned that one the hard way and was still trying to get the fishy smell out of his cloak.
“Alright and we’re exploring this one why?” Rex prompted as he joined Anakin inside. Anakin glanced behind him at the very technical non-magical map that Rex was sketching along the way. It would certainly do to keep track of such things. The primitive one Obi-Wan and Satine had made a few years ago hadn't been updated to such things.
“Well it's important that we know the lay of the land,” Anakin started before smirking and dropping all pretenses, “I have a plan!”
“Of course you do,” Rex rolled his eyes as they both slid down a section of tunnel that was more of a slide than anything else. He made a note on the parchment to learn a spell about creating stairs before they tried to climb up it.
“The Yule Ball is going to be mad boring,” Anakin grimaced, “No one in our year gets to go which seems really unfair, so I thought at least we should sneak you in,” Anakin pushed on the wall in front of them and it melted away instantly. They both stepped out and gazed around.
“Won’t they notice pretty quickly that I’m there?” Rex pointed out, “I don’t see us getting very far with it.”
“Well I’m sort of hoping once you’re already there, they’ll realize how cool you are and make an exception,” Anakin shrugged as he approached the teachers table on top of the stage.
“That’s some real wishful thinking there mate,” Rex pointed out, raising an eyebrow, “I think it’s more likely that we’ll both be in detention for life.”
“It’s worth a try and who knows!” Anakin giggled as he noticed the tiny ladder attached to the headmasters podium, Yoda sure was short, “Maybe they’ll realize that we should all get a chance for these sorts of things, not just the older students.”
“I’m thinking it would be the former,” Anakin froze and both him and Rex turned to see Professor Windu standing in the entryway with his arms crossed, “Be lucky I caught you when I did or you would be in much bigger trouble.”
“We were just going to practice a few speeches for the Ball!” Anakin immediately lied, “I figured practicing in the right venue would be better than rehearsing in my room.”
“There are no speeches for the Yule Ball,” Windu pointed out as he started approaching. There was no use running so Anakin just doubled down.
“Not officially, but hey I was thinking about giving one, rally the schools and all that. Wizarding togetherness!” He’d heard Padmé and Satine talk about how that was supposed to be the point of this competition, but he didn’t think Windu would buy it.
“Nice try Skywalker,” He shook his head, “I’ll see you and Fett in detention tomorrow night for being out of bed past curfew.”
Rex swore under his breath and Anakin winced.
“Well if that’s all, we’ll be going!” Anakin tried to make a run for it, but Windu caught his shoulder.
“Fett, you can go on ahead. Skywalker, a word.”
Rex scurried out of the room with nothing more than a backwards glance at Anakin who hissed, “Traitor!” after him.
“I can see you’re not taking the Yule Ball seriously,” Windu started and Anakin rolled his eyes.
“It’s not supposed to be serious! It’s supposed to be fun, it’s just a dance,” He debated.
Windu pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “It’s a ceremony first and foremost and you’ll be there representing Hogwarts. How will we look as a school with you plotting and scheming?”
“Better than Ziro’s making Durmstrang look-”
“Since you’ve given me evidence of shenanigans I have no choice, but to ban you from participating in the event-”
“That’s not fair!” Anakin cut it with a scowl, “I have to be there as a champion!”
“Oh you’ll be there” Windu nodded, “But under more watchful eyes.”
“But you just said I won’t be participating,” Anakin looked up at him confused, “Don’t tell me you’re finally going mad Professor Windu.”
Electing to ignore his last statement, Windu continued, “You can join the other champions in the first dance as it’s part of the ceremony, after that you can help our kitchen staff with serving food and drink-”
“You mean I have to work this thing?!” Anakin demanded, “No way, in that case I won’t go at all!”
“If you want to continue being a part of this tournament you will be there,” his professor gave him a long steely look, “Otherwise they’ll pull you from the second and possibly third tasks.”
“That’s not fair!” Anakin crossed his arms tightly, “Why don’t I ever get to have any fun?”
“Life isn’t fair,” Windu sighed, “Perhaps if you didn’t see it fit to scheme at every turn, you would have had some fun. Now get to bed before I see you for a few days more detention.”
Knowing when to quit, Anakin stomped from the hall. Once he was out of earshot he hissed quietly, “Windu wouldn’t know fun if it bit him on the arse!”
In her short time of knowing him, Ventress hadn’t known Quinlan Vos to be quite so stoic or serious, but as he passed her by with a crinkle between his thick brows and little regard to his surroundings, it seemed to be that he was in rare form. At first, she’d assumed he hadn’t noticed her, because the idiot could hardly resist making a comment as he passed her. Never were they explicit or rude, exactly, but smug all the same.
However, at the last second, she caught the way his eyes flickered at the page he held before averting back to what he was reading.
“The rules of peek-a-boo don’t exactly work on me,” She drawled, unimpressed.
“I’m not hiding,” He said gruffly, “But I am busy.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to be disturbing you,” She said archly, “Not like you’ve had any issue with being a nuisance to me in the past.”
“If I was truly unwanted, you would have made that clearer than sharp glares and petty eye rolls.” He said without looking up, “You’ve not hesitated in turning people to stone for less.”
Ventress scowled, hating the plainness in his voice and how irritatingly unfazed he was by the weight of them. Ventress, despite her own failures, had played a major part of instilling fear into not only the school, but the surrounding community as well. Yes, she’d utilized Maul’s escape as well, but that maniac hadn’t possessed enough tact to do what she did. Yet Vos said it with confidence that she wouldn’t do anything like that to him.
She was certainly tempted at the moment.
Then again, it angered her more how easy it was for him to get the best of her. He wasn’t even trying and hardly paid her any mind, but here she was, eager for the opportunity to snap at him. It had become a strangely comfortable dynamic and it was unnerving that somehow she had become the gadfly.
“What’s the matter with you? Stumble upon a word you can’t read? I’m guessing Durmstrang hasn’t gotten beyond teaching multisyllabic words.” She placed her hands on her hips.
He didn’t take the bait, only shaking his head, “Just going to do some studying with friends. If you’re looking for Kenobi, I think he’s with Cody across the library.”
She grimaced at the thought of her supposed fiance, “Believe me, I am not looking for him.”
“I’d ask if there was trouble in paradise, but that would require paradise to have existed on some level,” He said pointedly, folding up the parchment in his hands and placing it in his breast pocket.
“Paradise doesn’t exist,” She said, “We’ve only got what we can make here.”
“And are you happy with what you’re making?” He asked.
She narrowed her eyes at him, “I will be.”
“Then do it,” He said, “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
Her mouth hung open for a minute. The audacity of this moron, for thinking that she’d ever believed she had. “I know that.”
“Good.” He said shortly. “I guess all I can do is wish you the best,” He said with a shrug, “You wanna be the ice queen? Go for it.”
“And you don’t have some smart ass comment for me?” She taunted, “It’s hardly like you to hold your thoughts.”
“Well, you’ve made it clear that we don’t really know each other and that you’ve got even less interest in knowing anyone that doesn’t give you public gain.” He said, “So I’m done chasing you around and trying to make you into something that you’re not. That one was on me and I apologize.”
“You’re apologizing.” She said in befuddlement. “To me?”
“And to myself,” He said, “I’d say I’ll see you around, but I’d really rather not at this point. I doubt my date would like it very much if I continued this conversation.”
“You’ve got a date?” She asked.
“I asked them.” He said with a shrug, “And believe it or not, I didn’t even need to blackmail or hold them emotionally hostage. We all have our own system though.”
“You’re a bastard.” She spat.
“And you’re alone.” He retorted before going along his way, “And I feel sorry for you.”
“That’s it, Windu has gone too far this time.” Anakin groaned as he took a seat across from Obi-Wan and Cody in the library. Both seventh years were studying avidly for an upcoming Transfiguration exam, though Anakin didn’t seem remotely concerned about this and was taken back by their lack of interest.
“What’d you get for number five?” Cody murmured.
“For the last time, we have different variations of the practice exam.” Obi-Wan sighed, but it was no secret that the guy was more distracted than usual when it came to studying.
“Um, hello?” Anakin waved a hand in front of their faces. “Aren’t you at least a little bit interested in the cruel and unusual punishment Windu has put me through?”
“No, not really.” Cody said, “Because I’m much more interested in the fact that I’m definitely going to fail this exam.”
“What is it, Anakin?” Obi-Wan begrudgingly took the bait, much to Cody’s annoyance. He had a soft spot for the kid too, but not enough to sacrifice his future for him.
“Well,” Anakin leaned forward, happy to finally have an audience, “He’s out to get me, as we all know.”
“Not at all.” Cody said while Obi-Wan simultaneously made an unsure sound in the back of his throat. At least they were on the same page about that.
The third year still continued as though he didn’t hear them, “He’s determined to make this tournament completely un-fun for me as punishment. I’m not allowed to go to the Yule Ball! And for no reason at all!”
Cody only snorted at that, finding it very hard to believe that this punishment was unwarranted. A little birdy had mentioned to him certain shenanigans that involved planning to sneak the youngest member of the Fett clan into the ball. It was definitely an idea that Cody could get behind in theory, but not at Skywalker’s steed, not when he had a penance for getting caught.
“How is that going to work?” Obi-Wan asked. “You’re necessary at minimum for the opening dance.”
“Yeah, I know,” He said pointedly, as though he were the brains of the operation, “But when I kindly mentioned that, he said I could go, but as a busboy . I have to spend the entire night cleaning up after and serving you guys.”
“Can you start this servitude early by heeding my order to leave so I don’t fail out?” Cody asked.
Obi-Wan placed a firm hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Relax. We’ll study through the night and you’ll be right as rain. When Satine joins, I’m sure she’ll be happy to help too.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.” Anakin snorted and kicked his feet back on the table. Cody was envious at how little concern the kid had.
This immediately captured Obi-Wan’s attention with a quiet alarm that made Cody want to look elsewhere. There was a level of focus in his eyes that neither had seen under any other pretense except in urgency.
“Why do you say that?” He asked slowly.
Anakin shared a look with Cody, as if to say “You didn’t tell him?!” to which Cody simply buried his nose further into the textbook in front of him. He may have been struggling in Transfiguration, but he was no dummy. Sure, leaving Anakin to explain this one might have been a tad cruel to the bloke, but he had to learn somehow.
It was evident that the third year did not quite understand the tumultuous battlefield that was teenage romance nor did he grasp the pitfalls that came with it.
“She’s across the library with some Durmstrang and Beaubaxton kids.” Anakin frowned. “I always sort of knew I didn’t have her in my fanbase for the competition, but to think she’d totally jump ship and go for another school is-”
“-She’s what?” Obi-Wan cut him off. “W-Why is she with them?”
“You should probably be asking her that, considering I don’t mingle with traitors. Not to worry, mate, I’m team Kenobi. Well, not for the tournament. I’m team Skywalker for that of-”
“-That’s a little melodramatic.” Cody added, “Nowhere is it written that Satine can’t study with other schools.”
“Maybe not physically written, but there’s definitely a code.” Anakin paused, “Though come to think of it, you never officially got dibs, Obi-Wan.”
“I am not having this conversation with you right now, but in short, you cannot call ‘dibs’ on a person.” Obi-Wan said. He leaned his whole body to the side to try and peek around the bookcase to their right. He was almost completely out of his chair but had clearly caught sight of Satine sitting across from a bunch of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, including his opposing champions. Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to look away, despite the hurt that flashed across his face.
“What could she have to talk to them about?” He asked as he resumed normal rim-rod-straight posture, “She knows Cody’s struggling with transfiguration.”
Cody resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because obviously Obi-Wan’s irritation had nothing to do with grades, at least not deep down. Had that been the case, they would actually be studying instead of talking about who Satine was electing to spend her time with.
“You’re better at explaining most of this stuff anyway.” He said with a shrug, because truly, he was not hurt that their friend decided to sit with someone else for once. In fact, after what happened at Diagon Alley, he was surprised it hadn’t gone farther than that.
“Do you think they’re discussing the tournament?” Anakin asked, “Because word on the street is that Vos already figured out the next challenge.”
Cody really wanted to wallop the kid for his tendency of making matters far worse.
“She wouldn’t do that.” Obi-Wan said. “She’d never betray… The school like that.”
“You also thought she’d always study here but- Ow!” Anakin exclaimed off Cody’s insistent kick from under the table.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, mate.” Cody placed a hand on his shoulder. “She just needs some time to cool off.”
Obi-Wan looked unsure but nodded nonetheless and moved to continue the practice worksheets he’d developed for them. It was highly likely that he didn’t develop them alone, because some of the handwriting didn’t resemble the rigidity of Obi-Wan’s and had sleek loops to the lowercase y’s and g’s, some of which his friend was clearly getting caught up over.
“You’re looking pretty starry-eyed there, Dume,” Ryder Azadi teased, raising a blond eyebrow as they dove into their respective lunches.
“He’s been that way ever since Hera Syndulla asked him to the ball,” Fenn Rau explained.
“And I suspect he’ll be that way for a while thereafter as well,” Saw Gerrara added before taking a big bite into the sandwich he’d concocted for himself. It was rather large with several different layers of meats and cheeses that Caleb couldn’t name. The one plus to having the two other schools around was all the different food options they were introduced to.
Unsurprisingly, Durmstrang was big on protein.
“Honestly, I’m pretty surprised no one’s talking about it like that.” Ryder said, “I mean, you’re dating a champion! Guys were lining up to ask Hera to the ball!”
“Yeah, and every girl is fuming over the recent news that Vos is off the market.” Rau agreed, “Not to mention the constant buzz that is Kenobi’s minefield of a love life.”
One that ever so briefly, Fenn Rau had found himself trapped in the midst of. He’d emerged fairly unscathed and was taking one of Padmé Amidala’s friends, Rabé. As far as Caleb could tell, they were more or less going as friends, but he was glad Rau wasn’t flying solo.
“To be fair, we’re not dating yet,” He said, “Not officially, but I don’t intend on it being that way for long.”
“Oh no? Grown some courage, eh?” Ryder asked.
“Considering she asked him to the dance, I think he owes it to her and himself to show he’s not a little baby,” Saw said.
“Harsh, mate,” Caleb grumbled, “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“You say that like I’m wrong,” He wiped his mouth, which previously had been smeared with mustard from how aggressively he tore into that sandwich, “But you know I’m right. Everyone else here asked someone to the ball. You got asked.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Caleb asked, “I’m a modern man.”
“I like a girl that takes initiative,” Rau offered sagely.
“Yeah, okay,” He rolled his eyes, “But just so we’re clear, you’re damn lucky to be considered a coward rather than a traitor.”
Caleb frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Yeah, Saw? What are you on about now? Ryder asked.
In all fairness, Saw Gerrara was known amongst Hogwarts to be a little… Intense. It was one of the reasons he never made the cut for the Quidditch team. There was competition and then there was Saw, who treated everything like an active war zone where there were no rules, only the right side and the wrong side. If you ever crossed that line, you were dead to him.
Caleb couldn’t imagine seeing the world so plainly, but Saw obviously did. He liked the guy, of course, but it meant that you had to avoid any topics like politics, religion, or philosophy around him.
“I’m talking about the fact that you’re basically messing with the enemy,” Saw said casually, “Now that it looks like Anakin can really win this thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turn some heads at the ball.”
“Does anyone actually really care who I date?” Caleb complained, “I’m no celebrity around here. And you didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”
“That was before this missing Hutt nonsense,” He sniffed, face furrowed into deep contemplation that seemed to cast a shadow over him, “Someone is trying to turn the schools against each other and if that happens, you better know what side you’re on.”
Caleb looked at all of them. Ryder and Rau had gone silent, unreadable in the looks they exchanged.
“Er yeah, I do,” Caleb said slowly, “The side where we all don’t turn on each other.”
“I’m just saying, first it was Cody with his unyielding support of Ravenclaw,” Saw shook his head, clearly bothered by that still, “But that’s at least on our turf. That’ll be forgiven in a war amongst the three major wizarding schools.”
“In Europe,” Fenn Rau added rather weakly, “Because… There are others. I doubt they’d care much though.”
“I barely do,” Ryder sighed and looked at Saw wearily, “You Gryffindor’s and your rivalries. Must you always be so intense?”
“I second that,” Rau added.
“Who cares if Cody is friends with Obi-Wan? That’s how it’s always been.” Caleb laughed incredulously, “I’d be happy for him if he won too. That doesn’t make me support Skywalker any less or want a Gryffindor win any less. I can separate my priorities.”
“But do you have them in proper order?” Saw needled, his azure eyes sharp in contrast to his smooth dark skin.
“I’m beginning to think of the two of us, I’m the only one who does,” Caleb shook his head.
“Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean it isn’t going to happen,” Saw sighed, “And I highly doubt those pompous Beauxbatons kids are going to want you on their side. They’re smart and savvy.”
“And they trust Hera.” Caleb said, “As well as her judgment of character. Just like how you should trust Cody or me.”
“I do trust you, Dume,” He said, “I’m just trying to prepare you for it.”
“And Cody?”
“Cody needs to figure out exactly where he stands. He can’t keep teetering in the middle forever.”
Seeing as the Quidditch field wasn’t getting any other use this year (much to his chagrin), Cody did end up meeting Satine near the field. It was her turn to patrol the exterior of the school as prefect and he figured he could use the fresh air. He’d always argued that she and Obi-Wan could simply relegate this duty to an underclassman, but neither ever did.
Obi-Wan had to write a personal letter to the Daily Prophet regarding his thoughts and feelings about the upcoming Yule Ball. With how intricate his letters could get, it would take time. It gave him a good opportunity to catch up with her.
Besides, he loved how the Quidditch field looked when adorned with pillows of snow coating the once evergreen plains. Satine’s cheeks and nose were pink from the cold in contrast to her pale white skin.
“This is actually Obi-Wan’s shift.” She said stiffly when he’d once again brought up the possibility. “I accepted it before… Well, I’d agreed a couple weeks ago.”
“That was nice of you.” He said tensely. He had really wanted to keep off the subject of Obi-Wan, but knew it was inevitable since he really hadn’t spoken with Satine about this in full. “How are you?”
She frowned, “It’s not as though someone died, Cody. I’m fine.”
“Right, yeah, I know, but you’ve certainly been distant lately.”
“Can you blame me?” She asked incredulously.
“Honestly, no.” He said and they continued walking in silence for a little while, “I would just like to know if you’ll be getting me on weekends-only or if you’ll be using a transitioning system. I’ve been through the divorced parents thing once and I’m quite good at it.”
She relaxed a little, “I’m sorry you’ve been yanked into the middle of all this. It’s truly not fair to you.”
“I’m used to it.” He smiled, but this did not ease the frown on her face, “Really, I’d just like you both to be happy. I used to always think that the logical step was for you two to just get it over with and get together, but now…”
She turned to him with concern written on her features, “What?”
“I’m not so sure.” He shrugged.
“Me neither,” She said and then groaned, “Everything made a whole lot more sense when we were 12 and tossing snowballs in this very field. No life or death situations, no tournament, no stupid feelings.”
“You beamed Kenobi so hard in the face that you knocked those prescription glasses off his head.”
She laughed. “I forgot about those. His parents were so insistent that he needed them when he has absolutely perfect eyesight.”
She seemed to grow a little sad at that, even as she chuckled and stared off somewhere in the open distance. The past was fickle and it was easy to lose oneself in wishing for it to return, but Cody had to admit that life was easier when their problems were solved with a butterbeer at Three Broomsticks.
“I really thought we could save him from all that.” She said, “But he doesn’t want to save himself.”
Cody had a hard time arguing with that. “You know it’s not easy, Satine.”
“Of course it isn’t, but the fact of the matter is there’s a reason he wouldn’t ask me at Madam Malkin’s and it’s not them, or him, but who I am at the end of the day and even if I wanted to change who I am or where I came from, I can’t. And he shouldn’t want me to. So, I’ve found an alternative that wanted me enough to ask- politics be damned.”
“I knew I should have brought my invisible ink decoder ring,” Anakin complained as he and Rex hunched over the dim candlelight afforded to them so late at night in the shrouded alcove of Anakin’s four poster bed. If they spoke too loud, they’d wake the other boys, and any time that happened, Anakin knew they were essentially asking for eels in their slippers.
Rex gave him a bewildered look over his shoulder, “How do you possess one of those? There’s only a record of three in the entire existence of history!”
Anakin smirked, “You gotta know which cereal box to pick from, Rex.”
Rex did not know what that meant in the slightest, but packed that line of conversation for later. He wasn’t sure where Anakin had been shopping for cereal his whole life, but wizarding boxes typically contained a stupid cheap plastic gag in them that was fun for approximately two minutes.
“Well, your theory that it was written with glow-in-the-dark ink is disproven,” He said after some time of staring at a blank page. “Makes sense, though. I heard from my brother, Hevy, that getting those glow worms to write is pretty difficult.”
“So is commandeering a dragon and that was possible!” Anakin whispered as he flopped backwards onto his bed. “I’ve got to be the first one to figure out this scroll, Rex.”
“You weren’t the first to solve the last riddle and you still won the first task,” Rex reminded him.
“Last time we at least had a riddle to work with,” Anakin said, staring up at the photographs and newspaper articles tacked to the ceiling of his bed. Most would have expected them to all be in regards to Anakin’s various victories and triumphs through the past couple of years, or even weeks. Instead, they consisted of what little-reported information they had on his mother’s disappearance.
Rex’s heart twanged. Yes, despite the zest for danger and excitement that his friend tended to have, he needed to remind himself what the reason was for. Behind closed curtains, Anakin looked pretty tired. There was still that unyielding sense of purpose in his gaze, but physically, he was still so young.
Chosen one or not, the hand that was dealt to him was grossly unfair. Rex knew about the letters Anakin kept sending to the Auror’s office. A flair of rage sparked at the thought of how careless they were about responding. Sure, they were likely busy with Dooku, even if the Daily Prophet had chosen not to report much on it. However, to completely ignore a young boy’s cry for help was callous beyond belief.
Though only 13, Rex was starting to understand his father’s distaste for the Ministry and how they operated.
“Hey,” Rex reached out and squeezed Anakin’s ankle as some form of reassurance. His eyes were droopy, but alert as he looked down to where Rex was perched at the end of the bed. “You’re going to win.”
Anakin scoffed, a display of humility to show how much he trusted Rex not to tell anyone that he was afraid. When he thought he was going to argue Rex’s assertion, he didn’t. At least, not plainly.
“Do you think she’s watching me?” He asked quietly, “From where ever she is? In the tournament, I mean.”
Rex wasn’t sure how to answer that correctly, or if there even was a correct answer to give. Saying that his mother was watching him perform insinuated that she had the freedom to do so and was actively avoiding reuniting with him. If he said he didn’t believe she was watching him, that would imply something horrible had happened or was currently happening to her. Neither seemed particularly comforting nor did the long stretch of silence that fell between them.
Instead, Rex sighed, “I believe that when you’re reunited, she’ll be really proud of you.”
“I think the Kenobis think she’s dead,” Anakin said thickly.
“Is that what they said?” Rex asked.
“Not exactly,” He shifted so he was sitting up, his blue eyes bright with worry, “It’s just how they’ve been talking to me lately. They’re still nice, of course, but they keep brushing by the subject when I bring it up. I feel like they know something that they don’t want to tell me.”
“Have you asked them about it?”
“I don’t exactly get a lot of personal time. They didn’t want me to talk about her during that conference, you know, the one that got interrupted by Ziro,” He went on, “Mr. Kenobi said that I should focus on my own success and push my image first and foremost.”
“That’s all you’ve been doing this entire time,” Rex groaned, frustrated, “You’ve won a bloody task! What else can you do?”
“Win the whole tournament, I guess,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, “Meanwhile, Dooku is still out there wrecking communities and hurting people. Why the news junkets aren’t turning their focus on him, I don’t know, but it’s only making me wonder if my mother was ever found…”
He trailed off, staring hard at some imaginable possible reality ahead of him before coming up with what he was trying to say, “I wonder if I would even be allowed to know about it.”
“You would,” Rex reflexively insisted and when Anakin shot him an unsure look, he shrugged, “I don’t see how they’d be able to keep it a secret.”
“Yeah, but we’re kids.” He said almost bitterly, “And nobody tells kids anything.”
That much was absolutely true, but Rex had to let the parchment that was set on the bedspread between them be the only emptiness present.
“Maybe not,” He said and met his eyes, “But we won’t be kids forever. And even with that in mind, I’ve never known you to be the type to lay down and accept what’s given to you.”
Anakin nodded firmly, “I’ll find her.”
“Yes, you will,” Rex assured him, “But not tonight. It’s late and you still need to get your suit for the yule ball.”
“The Kenobis sent me something,” He groaned, “It’s way too big though. I need to get it tailored.”
“You’re really going ahead with being a butler all night?” Rex chuckled.
“Oh, yes,” Rex was relieved to see Anakin go from sullen to mischievous in the span of seconds. This was the version of Anakin that shined truest and brightest. Every star dimmed at times, but Rex would always be around to ensure that he never went out completely.
Despite passing his transfiguration exam (narrowly, he might add), any traces of elation had vanished from Cody’s disposition when he noticed Obi-Wan sitting at lunch not alone and not with Satine, but with Ventress . Worst of all, it didn’t appear to be on any official business. Sure, his friend didn’t appear to be having a very pleasant time, but he didn’t make any move to leave. He had half a mind to go ahead and join Satine, who sat with Bail Organa, Aayla Secura, Stass Allie, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, and Quinlan Vos. Not only did that table feel incredibly full as was, but leaving Obi-Wan to the sharks felt wrong.
He made eye contact with Satine as he moved across the room, hoping to convey a neutral message as he did so. As sick as he was of this back and forth between them, he definitely preferred it when they were fighting. At least he didn’t feel as though he had to be split in two back then.
Luckily, when Ventress caught Cody’s eye as he walked over, she delivered some final scathing remark before gathering her things and getting up, being sure to shove past him despite there being plenty of room for her to walk.
“It’s not Halloween. Why was that she-demon walking about?” He quipped as he took her seat, not caring much if she heard him or not. The witch froze his best friend and his little brother last year in stone. Hurt feelings really didn’t concern Cody.
Obi-Wan was looking especially downcast, playing with his food as opposed to eating it. It reminded Cody a great deal of when they were first years. He took the moment to observe how easily things could change yet stay the same.
“You know, you could try apologizing. That might fix some things.” He offered.
He sighed, running a hand through meticulous auburn hair that by Obi-Wan’s neat and tidy standards, likely needed a trim. “I haven’t exactly had a moment alone with her since it happened.”
Cody took a bite of his burger. “You have Charms together next, right? It’s not like she can switch seats. Just be thankful your names are so close together in the alphabet.”
“That’s oversimplifying things a bit, wouldn’t you say?” He asked.
“Maybe, but I’d say you need that since you feel the need to translate everything to some complicated riddle in your head. I’m getting a little tired of feeling like the kid whose parents just split.”
Guilt swarmed into Obi-Wan’s dark blue eyes and Cody regretted it as soon as he’d said it, even if he’d hoped to layer it with the faint tones of a joke. Satine hadn’t taken kindly to that joke either and seemed just as guilty. Why had he picked the two most intense Ravenclaws as best friends?
“But beyond anything, mate, I’m tired of seeing you so sullen.”
“I accepted Ventress’ offer to go to the ball.” Obi-Wan said abruptly, not meeting Cody’s eyes likely out of fear of what he would see. Well, Ravenclaws were notorious for being wise beyond measure. Even if he had just done something incredibly stupid.
“You what ?” Cody snapped, disregarding the heads that had turned his way near them. “Are you mental?”
Truly, he must have been. Of all the stupid self-sacrificial stunts that Obi-Wan had pulled over the years to appease the tightening metaphorical noose around his neck, this had to be top of the list- even above entering in the Triwizard tournament. Even above what had happened at Madam Malkin’s, though Cody had a funny feeling that this was undoubtedly related.
“I need a date for the ball and it’s in a little over a week.” He said dejectedly, “She’s made the accurate point that I haven’t got much of another option. Unless you’d like to see me be the first champion to dance with one of the ghosts.”
And that was counting on them showing up. The ghosts made it clear on many occasions that they really did not care what happened in the living plain of existence.
“I’d say it’s got to be better than taking some stranger, but that would really be underselling the life-saving possibilities of going with someone who’s not Ventress.” He said. “Does Satine know?”
Obi-Wan frowned, “What’s it matter if she does or not? She evidently had a date in her back pocket this entire time.”
Oh, now he was just being an absolute moron.
“I suppose you’re both really going for the jugular, huh? So much for an easy divorce.” Cody muttered.
“I’ll be in and out, hopefully. The dance is the very first portion of the ball, luckily. After that, I can feign illness or something.”
“Since you’re going with Ventress, I don’t think you’ll need to be faking sick.” He said. “She might poison you.”
“Doubtful,” Obi-Wan didn’t sound like he was optimistic in the slightest, though, “She needs me if she wants to walk down the aisle so terribly.”
That did not make Cody feel any better.
“Have the Aurors found anything yet?” Windu asked Yoda after closing the door behind him to the Headmaster’s office.
“Found, no traces have been.” Yoda said mournfully.
“And the child?”
“No sign,” Yoda confirmed just as downtrodden, “Hoping for the best, I am.”
“And we’ve no clue how this would appear in the professor’s wing overnight?” Windu asked, “Or how Ziro of all people found out?”
“Have free reign of the castle, Nala Se and Ziro do.” He grimaced, “Have nothing to hide, we should.”
“Unless it truly was one of our own.”
How they continued to arrive back in this same spot, Yoda didn’t know, but he definitely didn’t trust that they were receiving anything remotely like the full story. Any calculated criminal capable of stealing Jabba’s son would have been smarter than to leave such an obvious trail. Why keep the blanket in the first place, after all?
“Have my suspicions, I do,” Yoda confirmed once looking up at Mace’s deep concern. If anyone should remain in the loop, it was Gryffindor’s head of house.
Answering his thoughts, Windu straightened, “Skywalker told us that Gunray was supposedly on his side now.”
“But not Obi-Wan’s,” Yoda said thoughtfully. If what they were suggesting was true, then it was quite possible there was a very dark and sinister plan going on behind the scenes. Even worse, was the implication of Ministry involvement.
“I kept my eyes on Gunray and Ziro the entire time,” Windu said, “Neither were remotely involved with the second task. If anything happened, it had to have been pre-planned.”
“Go through the Ministry, the tasks did,” Yoda said darkly, “Pre-placed, the shark could not have been.”
“It came from nowhere,” He paced, “And what is the possible motive?”
“Suspect two plots, I do.” Yoda said, “Separate, but related.”
They’d been skirting around each other all week, but the fight that Cody felt brimming under the surface had finally come just a couple of days before the actual ball. According to Obi-Wan, Satine had been icing him out during class and arriving just on time so as not to have time to talk before class started. However, they had a shared patrol that neither could get out of and Cody had been lucky enough to witness all of it.
And by lucky , he meant completely cursed.
He wasn’t supposed to be there at all, but was scheduled to meet with his own head of house in order to discuss his prospects of being recruited on a professional Quidditch team. This was hard to do when there wasn’t a Quidditch season to be scouted at, so he really needed to weigh his options.
While walking there, he ran into Satine first and was about to greet her when Obi-Wan also walked up. Instantly, the wide space of the large corridor already seemed to heat up with an intensity that was ready to explode.
“Hello.” Obi-Wan said as they stood aimlessly outside Professor Tahl’s office. She’d been the new Head of Ravenclaw house and while she hadn’t taken over Qui-Gon’s classroom, it did feel strange to Cody that the office no longer had “Professor Jinn” scribed on the outside plaque.
“Hi.” She said without daring to look over at him.
There was a pregnant pause that went on long enough where Cody might have been able to slip away unscathed, but Obi-Wan decided to dive in anyway. “So, about that day at Malkin’s-”
“-It’s water under the bridge.” She cut him off. “Would you like to go left while I go right and meet in the center?”
“Oh.” He said and it seemed to take the air out of him. Every facet of stability at his tenure at Hogwarts was crumbling to the ground. Eating together, studying together, going to class together, performing patrol together. Cody wondered if it occurred to Obi-Wan that this was how Satine likely felt when he’d been inadvertently ignoring her with Triwizard activities.
“Alright, I guess I’ll go left.” She said when it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer, “And you, as always, can take the path laid out for you.”
“Excuse me?” He rounded up on her before she could walk away from him. “And if I wanted to go left?”
“Then you would do it.” She said through gritted teeth, “Instead of waiting for someone to grant you access to it.”
“You’re the one so dead on going left that you refuse to even look to the right.” He said.
Cody had a feeling this wasn’t really about who was going to go which way, but decided to settle the disagreement at hand.
“Why don’t we flip a coin?”
Both ignored him, already getting red-faced at their burgeoning disagreement. “I have been taking your shifts, because you’re too busy being the champion to perform your duties. I’m surprised you even still know how to patrol at all.”
“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t taken this mystery date along for patrol, because God knows the entire school can’t seem to stop talking about him.”
“I’ll spare you the investigation,” She said sardonically. “It’s Quinlan Vos.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re- How can you go with Vos?”
“Well, you see, he asked me.” She said, “And I said yes. Easy as that. Because frankly, that’s the way it should be. I’m sure it was just as easy for you to ask Ventress.”
Obi-Wan gaped like a fish out of water, making that two points of information he didn’t know. It almost seemed to strike harder than the knowledge that she was going with Quinlan Vos, who everyone in school was utterly obsessed with.
“At least I was decent enough not to toss that in your face.”
“Ah yes, you’re a saint. Thank you so much for letting me hear about it from Anakin instead. It was truly a pleasure.”
He winced at that, because Obi-Wan had clearly never intended on the news getting around. However, he really needed to reconsider who he confided in if that were the case.
“Satine, he’s my opponent in the competition- the same competition where we’ve established subterfuge against me.”
“Oh please, we both know Quinlan isn’t involved in any of that. You were defending him just a couple weeks ago!”
“Nothing is off the table!” His voice cracked at the end, which sadly took some of the heat out of his argument.
“Some things are .” She returned with equal fire.
“I know you’re upset with me, but that doesn’t mean you need to go off isolating yourself. Cody almost failed transfiguration.”
Oh God, not that again. Cody sighed, not even bothering to step a toe forward this time. Really, they needed to get it out of their system before this only burned deeper. Did he really ever wish for them to start fighting again?
“Upset? What’s there to be upset about? Nothing’s changed. You have certainly seen to that.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.” He said sadly, but it fell flat as the two of them stared at each other in heated stand-off for a moment longer before moving away from each other. “We’re friends, right?”
“Of course,” Though Satine purposely didn’t meet his eyes.
“Okay,” He said, looking a little helpless as he stood and faced her, searching for any shred of a sign that they’d really be okay.
“If you want the left route so terribly,” Satine said after a long pause, “You can have it.”
“And then what?” Obi-Wan asked, looking more lost than he’d ever had.
She shrugged, “Then, I’ll see you both Saturday. Don’t be dolts. Remember to bring your dates corsages.”
Cody and Obi-Wan watched as she walked away and Cody waited until she got out of earshot to ask, “This might not be the right time, but what’s a corsage?”
The day of the Yule Ball perfectly encapsulated any typical excitement that surrounded the holiday season, coupled with a fresh sense of anticipation for the elegant extravaganza that was promised to them, which made for a very enthusiastic batch of upperclassmen students. All around her, in Gryffindor’s common room, Padmé could feel the palpable joy that radiated off each girl as they went to work at applying makeup, twisting and twirling hair, and making any last minute modifications to their grand ball gowns.
Since all obligations or meetings were promptly cancelled for both the event and the holiday, and no one had classes or homework to worry them for the time being, the girls essentially woke up and began getting ready. Each seemed keen on helping the other, especially the seventh years, who held a stronger weight of responsibility for how this ball went.
Not only that, but Gryffindor currently housed the leading Champion of the tournament, which meant that expectations would be high for a promising outcome. All throughout the dormitory, girls raced and weaved amongst one another, bearing ribbons, haircare products, and makeup.
For some, it was their first time venturing into the world of grand fashion, which was all the more exciting for Padmé’s friends, who’d devoted their entire lives to this sort of thing. Being so close with a royal heir, they’d developed a certain knack for it over the years. In fact, should Padmé ever rise to the ranks of Queen, she intended on bringing her battalion of fair maidens along with her.
There was Yané, obviously, who actually sewed and designed dresses in her spare time and lived for creating new and extravagant patterns that best suited whoever deigned to wear them. She was presently helping a fellow fourth year girl with a shaw that would drape elegantly around her shoulders. Padmé had seen Yané do wonderful things, but never quite so fast or exuberantly. She suspected this might have something to do with the glances she kept making at Saché, who was equally as bright and happy to help those around her.
Saché, being the youngest of their crew, had always been a bit of the gopher in the sense that she could do many things very quickly at the drop of a hat. Currently, she was fetching pins and thread and dabbing moist faces for anyone that needed it. She worked best in an environment that anyone else would be completely overwhelmed by. She, too, still managed moments of revel at her own date.
Rabé, despite being in Slytherin house, still came over early to help Gryffindor. Padmé wondered how her housemates felt about that, but her friend hadn’t seemed concerned. Though not initially as keen on the idea as she’d become, she handled makeup for girls who had never used it before. Padmé, herself, wouldn’t have been as experienced with the stuff, if she hadn’t essentially been taught from birth to preserve a certain formal image. She didn’t have to do that at Hogwarts, of course, but during her summers, she’d spent a decent amount of time with various palettes and brushes.
Eirtaé, along with Yané, assisted in the clothing department, often alongside her, but was more focused on efficiency and necessary alterations. Unlike Yané, who always felt that utilizing magic to perform such a feat would lessen the richness of its desired effect, Eirtaé whipped her wand around like it was nobody’s business.
Padmé, after years of practicing on herself, knew a thing or two what to do with hair. This inadvertently made her the default expert on the subject, especially since her friends allowed her to practice on them daily. This, of course, afforded her the opportunity to focus on different textures and types of hair.
And then, naturally, there was Sabé, who was arguably Padmé’s best friend in life. Often having received the impression of being her “shadow”, Sabé was family and possessed all of these talents and then some. She always claimed to be the queen of second best, and even said as much without a drop of malice. It was an accepted place in life that Padmé disagreed with on principle and in general.
Sabé, was, without a doubt, the best support a person could have. Though she didn’t see it as a true talent, Padmé watched with vested interest as she calmly spoke to Teckla, who was quite nervous about impressing her date.
“First of all,” Sabé spoke with that firm confidence that most had to strive for, “You look absolutely beautiful. If Typho isn’t impressed, then I can only assume that his other eye is also going bad.”
Padmé snorted. It was a little mean, yes, but Gregar Typho’s missing eye due to an ill-fated attempt at changing his eye color in their first year, had become a bit of an ongoing joke amongst everyone, especially Typho.
“And secondly,” Sabé continued just as strongly when she noticed a small smile had broken way across Teckla’s face, “This isn’t about him. This is about you. Tonight is a party, that’s all. Yeah, everyone is dressed to the nines, but that’s the only difference. That, and it might be a little crowded in there.”
Teckla frowned, “But what if I trip while dancing or choke on a jalapeno puff or-”
“-And what if a meteor comes crashing down and obliterates us all?” Sabé sighed, “You can’t harp on the what if’s. You have to focus on your main objective.”
The fair skinned girl thought about that for a moment, her green eyes suddenly thoughtful as she pondered this.
Sabé, thankfully, put her out of her misery and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to Sabé’s stern face, “Your objective is to have fun , Teckla.”
“Oh!” She laughed a bit nervously, “Right.”
��And if you don’t,” Sabé added wryly, “We will see that you do. Rabé is quite the dancer.”
“No, I’m not!” Rabé barked.
“Fenn Rau thinks that you are!” Saché teased mischievously, a bobby pin in between her teeth as she said it.
“And if he tries anything, he’s going to lose a hand,” Rabé added without breaking contact from where she lightly dusted blush on Peppi Bow’s already pink face.
Eirtaé laughed, “As if you have any room to talk, Sabé! You’re the one with a boyfriend .”
Many of the other girls in the room, despite their claims of higher maturity than the corresponding boys of their age, couldn’t help but divulge into various ooooh’s to make Sabé’s ears go bright red. Even Teckla had jumped in on the bandwagon, much to Sabé’s obvious feeling of betrayal.
She scowled, “And why is that so scandalous when all of you have dates too?”
“I’m going with Fenn Rau as a friend,” Shrugged Rabé, “And Eirtaé is going with Hogan Tinmar, but I don’t think any of us actually believe he is… Er… Interested .”
They all had to concede on that front, but when or if Hogan came to such a revelation, they would all be equally supportive. He was a nice guy and Eirtaé would surely have a fun time with him regardless.
“Okay, well, Yané and Saché are girlfriends and no one’s teasing them.” Sabé pointed out.
“Well, they’re cute and soft,” Explained Eirtaé, “And you’re like a little jagged rock that we are all surprised has the mushy kind of feelings.”
“I do not have mushy feelings,” Sabé retorted.
“They looked pretty mushy to me when Tonra asked you with that little cake,” Padmé added carefully, “But rest assured, the teasing comes from a place of love.”
“Rest assured, I am feeling the love,'' muttered Sabé with crossed arms and then looked crossly at Padmé, “You know, you could have had a date too. Rush Clovis asked you and you turned him down!”
A few girls in the room gasped and Padmé glared at Sabé, who suddenly flushed apologetically at revealing that fact to many who didn’t know of such a thing. It would get out eventually, she figured, but that didn’t mean Padmé wanted to be gossipped about all night. Luckily, she was fairly certain there were bigger stakes of gossip for the harpies to grasp at.
“I didn’t want a date,” She said pointedly, “I just want to hang out with my friends.”
“Well, you’re lucky Skywalker is banned from asking anyone.” Rabé said tactly.
“You think so? I figured after last year, he’d call it quits.” Eirtaé offered, but nodded at Padmé, “You did keep the necklace though.”
“He’s my friend,” She insisted, though she did spare a glance to the jewelry box that was locked within the trunk in front of her bed. Inside of it, Anakin’s handmade trinket would be found. She was quite touched by the gesture and maybe, if she didn’t believe accepting an offer would lead him on, she would have accepted his hand to the ball, had he been able to ask.
“He’s our waiter too, apparently,” Sabé said as she moved over to help Padmé with her own dress. Just because they were helping everyone else, didn’t mean they couldn’t multi-task. “The champion of our house is going to be serving us horderves on a silver platter.”
“Something tells me if it’s Anakin, there’s going to be a catch,” Padmé couldn’t help but smile, “Can you zip me up?”
For the first time all day, she regarded herself in the mirror, a buoyant sense of pride and thrill bubbling inside of her. Like her other friends, she’d had hers designed and made by the joint efforts of Yané and Eirtaé. She’d paid them for their efforts of course, as well as for the efforts of the other girls’ dresses, but felt in that moment that she hadn’t paid enough. She’d worn many gowns over the years. In fact, Padmé remembered skirts and gowns before ever wearing pants or shorts. It was like a second set of skin, it was so comfortable.
And this dress, with its smooth and sheer quality, and the elegant swirling white pattern at the bottom that emulated snow, with a chic halter at the top, made her look like a princess.
She wasn’t the type to be full of herself, but with hair curled and half up and half down, clasped with a small bough of holly in favor of the holiday, and a face full of defining makeup and glitter, she was a princess.
“Well, he’s most certainly going to be sorry you said no,” Sabé murmured quietly as she joined Padmé in looking at the large mirror before them.
“Tonight is about fun, just like you said,” She smiled, “Though I do wonder how the boys are making out.”
“Please, boys don’t lose their minds over stuff like this.” Sabé chuckled. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
“HOW THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU WORK THIS THING?” Caleb Dume floundered, rolling around the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory floor as he quite literally wrestled with the bowtie around his neck.
None of the other boys exactly leapt at the opportunity to help Dume. Partly because it was funny to see the sixth year boy squirm and wiggle while trying to think of a charm to get the tie just right… But mostly because no one present exactly had a good answer or solution to offer him. It was much easier to just watch and laugh while pretending to know what they were doing with their own suits.
Besides, it wasn’t like anyone else was doing much better. For a group of blokes that had to wear ties every day, they were all hopeless when it came to dress robes.
“Fives, get out of my vest!” Echo complained over the loud raucous that was already erupting from the dormitory. Hell, the girls had to be faring better than them and likely laughing at the sound that was coming from the boys’ side.
“This isn’t your vest, it’s my vest!” Fives insisted. “Ann and I are wearing red.”
“You’re not going with Ann!” Growled Echo, “You’re going with Tann! I’m going with Ann!”
“Oh no you’re not! You’re going with Tann,” Fives pointed to the peach vest that was discarded on a nearby bunk. “You two are wearing orange.”
“No, you were there when we talked about this!” Echo huffed, ready to go on a long-winded explanation as to why he was assigned to Ann Gella and Fives was to go with Tann Gella, “You asked Tann and I asked Ann.”
“No, I asked Ann. ”
“Boys, boys, boys, please shut the hell up.” Cody could only take so much of this madness, as it didn’t help that not only did the twin Twi’Leks look exactly the same save for a slight variation in lekku length (one that Hera had to point out for him to notice), but their names and personalities were very similar either. So much so, that he was starting to get a headache.
Did his twin brothers have to pick the other set of identical twins to take as their respective dates to the ball? And why didn’t they just save themselves the trouble by getting the same color suits? Maybe the girls wanted to be differentiated from each other, but Fives and Echo had been stuck matching for most of their lives and didn’t seem to mind.
“Not until Fives admits that I asked Ann and he asked Tann!”
“What’s the difference?” Cody asked, “They both look the same!”
“You’re joking, right?” Fives snorted, “Why, they couldn’t be any more different! Ann likes sports and plays pranks and Tann is an artist and a dancer.”
“I mean, neither sounds like a particularly bad option,” Cody pointed out.
“No, not at all, but it’s the principle of the thing!” Echo said. “I asked Ann first and then Fives thought it was a good idea to task Tann!”
“You’re lying through your teeth, you ugly bastard!”
“We share the same face, you arse!”
“Okay, okay !” Cody pinched his nose, “There’s only one fair way to solve this as far as I’m concerned.”
“Cody, this better not have anything to do with Quidditch.” Echo sighed.
“Nonsense, there’s not enough time for a match.” Cody waved him off, “But we are going to flip a sickle.”
“You can’t decide who our date to the Yule Ball is going to be with a coin!” Fives objected.
“And why not? Afraid you can’t cheat that too?” Echo crossed his arms, “I call heads.”
“Fine,” Huffed Fives, “Tails.”
“Not like you had another option there, mate,” Cody snorted, “Heads, Echo takes Ann, and tails, Fives takes Ann.”
So, he flipped the coin into the air, watching it turn rapidly several times before snatching it mid-air and slapping it on the back of his other hand.
“Tails!” He announced, much to Echo’s chagrin and Fives’ excitement.
“Told ya!” Fives said gleefully as he finished buttoning up the vest he’d already gone to the trouble of putting on. Echo, while irritated, still went through with grabbing the peach vest off the bed and the corresponding bowtie.
“You’ll have fun either way,” Cody said.
“Guys, really! I can’t breathe!” Caleb gasped and finally Ackbar took mercy on him and waved his wand to free him from the confines of his tie.
“Word of advice, don’t use a spell to tie your tie, unless you intend on it being permanent,” Ackbar said sagely. Nobody really wanted any elaboration on how he figured such a dark thing out, so they moved on.
“Just get a clip on like the rest of us hopeless idiots,” Jan Dodonna smirked as he helped Caleb back up to his feet.
“You couldn’t catch me dead in a clip on,” Frowned Rush Clovis, who after some struggles of his own to get his hair tamed, was faring better than most.
“Not all of us are bonafide royalty,” Fives threw back, referring to Clovis being somewhere in the wayside in relation to the royal family.
“Class is not hereditary, boys,” He scoffed.
The issue with the boys was that they’d naturally all waited until the very last minute to get ready. In theory, it should have been simple. They put on pants and button-up shirts every single day of their lives. An extensive line for the shower and a fight for any and all mirror space, coupled with some rather unfortunate blemishes and hair scenarios had sent them all into a frenzy. And all of it was basically centered around the very real fear that their dates were going to kill them.
“Wait, I thought Zam told you she was wearing lavender.” Echo said as he cuffed his own sleeves.
“She did,” Cody grimaced as he pulled out his very blue vest from the wrapping. While he most likely would have been able to shrug it off if it were another shade of purple, it was very clear that he would not be matching his date this evening. Cody didn’t know much in the ways of dating or dances, but he did know that wearing a blatantly different color would likely draw the wrong statement.
“What the bloody hell happened, then?” Echo asked.
He paused and thought back to that fateful day when they’d all gone shopping for their dress robes. After the Kenobi’s had stormed in and effectively ruined the spirit of the day, Cody had been left to his own devices in terms of picking out his suit. It wasn’t exactly top of his list in things to do, especially alone, so when Jar Jar asked if he simply wanted it shipped to him, Cody happily agreed.
That, of course, had been his mistake.
“I told that blasted Gungan that it had to be purple!” He said.
“Lavender.” Corrected Hogan Tinman, who was really the only boy of the bunch with any sense of how to prepare for an elegant ball. Because of this, the other rampant barn animals were practically clawing at him for help.
“Same thing,” Cody waved off, “Blast, she’s not going to be happy about this.”
“You shouldn’t be happy about it either,” Rush Clovis, who’d just finished getting ready after hogging the wash room for over an hour, “You look like a bloody Ravenclaw.”
“I doubt that’s an accident,” Saw sneered as he straightened his own tie.
“You got something to say to me, mate?” Cody asked. He was already pissed off enough that he was going to look like the odd man out, so he really didn’t have the stomach to take anymore of Saw or any other daft Gryffindor’s nonsense.
“No, by all means, Fett, go forth and prosper with your wannabe Ravenclaw self.” He snorted, shaking his head in disgust, “While the rest of us go out and represent our true champion.”
“I bleed red just like the rest of us,” Which would have been a more poignant statement if all blood wasn’t red, but he continued on, “So take that bullshit and shove it back up your arse, mate.”
“I’m not your mate,” Saw said, “Any friend of mine would show up and support their house instead of tending to the losing side’s wounds.”
“I’m not the only one with friends in Ravenclaw,” He laughed bitterly, “And if I was such a traitor, why did Kenobi lose the first task, huh? I’ve never spewed secrets before and I won’t start now.”
“And how do we know you aren’t all talk?” Saw fired.
“Anakin doesn’t see Cody as a cheat and neither should you,” Rex stepped in, which to Cody felt a bit like a head rush, having his youngest brother take up his defense. He couldn’t tell if he was proud or not at the timing of it. “Speaking of which, where the hell is Anakin?”
“I’ve got to be missing something obvious here,” Anakin’s face was stony as he stared at the blank parchment laid out on the desk in front of him, “We already tried to see if it was glow in the dark or revealed itself under a black light, although we couldn’t get our hands on a real one unfortunately...” He trailed off. His eyes were starting to burn from staring at the thing so long.
“Does this have to be done now, Anakin?” Professor Palpatine was already dressed in a very lowkey set of dress robes and a heavy wool cloak that faded from black to green at the very bottom. He was also giving an appraising look at the blank parchment, but had seemed a tad more irritated than usual. Anakin had to guess it was because the old man wouldn’t be able to go to sleep as early as he usually did, “You should go and enjoy the ball! I’m sure you’ll figure this out in no time.”
“That’s just it professor,” Anakin sighed, “I don’t want to be the last one to figure it out. I have to figure it out by the ball, that way if anyone asks me I can tell them I’ve done it!”
“I see,” the Slytherin sighed and knitted his fingers together, “Well what is it we could possibly be missing here? I already tried a spell as you suggested.” That was true and had thrown Anakin through an awful loop. He was sure that it must be some sort of revealing spell.
“It’s like a riddle,” Anakin set his head down on the desk just centimeters away from it, “And I’ve never been very good at those.”
“Riddles just take a little bit of flexibility from the mind,” Palpatine smiled, “Some are born with such a skill, but we can always develop them within ourselves,” He raised his wand and flicked it, Anakin’s bowtie adjusted itself to sit straighter. He was lucky he had the foresight to get dressed before coming here, it seemed like he may have to head straight to the ball.
Anakin sighed deeply before his eyebrows furrowed and he raised his head, “Did you spill a potion in here?”
“No,” Palpatine shook his head, “Any potions that may have been spilled have certainly been cleaned up immediately. Why do you ask, my boy?”
Anakin sniffed the air, nothing. Before in a flurry of motion he yanked the parchment off the desk and gave it a whiff. It was a light scent and a little tangy, but he recognized it quickly.
“Lemons...” He stared at the sheet for a moment more before a lightbulb went off in his head and he was on his feet, “Lemons!” He slammed the parchment back on the table, “Professor I need a lemon right now!”
“A… lemon,” Palpatine looked much too concerned as he warily stood across from him.
“Trust me! I saw this once in a movie!” Anakin ignored the look his professor was surely giving him, but Palpatine simply waved his wand and a jar with a dead newt in it was transfigured and set before him. He eagerly dumped out the lemon and didn’t wait for a knife. He raised his wand and shouted, “Diffindo!”
Magic split the thing in two and also carved a large dent in Palpatine’s ancient desk. He’d definitely put too much power behind it. After shooting a quick apology that he really didn’t mean, he grabbed both halves of lemon and smeared them all over the paper. He didn’t step back until it was practically soaking.
Silence strung out as they both stared at the paper and waited. Anakin picked up the thing, but all it did was drip quietly on the floor. He frowned.
“It was a good try, Anakin,” Palpatine stepped around his desk to put a hand to Anakin’s shoulder.
“I don’t get it,” Anakin frowned, “I was sure that’s what they did, maybe I missed a step.”
“Or perhaps it’s something else,” He reasoned, using a simple cleaning spell to dry up most of the excess lemon juice, “I’m not sure muggle movies would really come into play in a wizards game, but everything is worth trying to achieve glory.”
“I dunno,” Anakin seemed suspicious, but tucked away the parchment into the inside pocket of his dress robes, “Why else would the parchment smell of lemons?”
“I’m sure there will be much more time to reflect on the possibilities,” Palpatine shooed him out with a wave and a glance at the clock, “We must get you to the Great Hall in time for the champions waltz, it wouldn’t be right without the winner of the first task.”
“Windu says it’s not about that sort of thing here,” Anakin shot a glance up at the professor and Palpatine shook his head with a knowing smile.
“Not outwardly,” He agreed, “But this is a tournament let’s not forget, every step you take this year is one that will hopefully place you on top in the end.”
“It’s a lot of politics,” Anakin hummed as they walked through the empty halls, “I hadn’t expected all that.”
“Everything is politics in the end,” Palpatine gave him a tired shrug, “When you’ve lived as long as I have, it’s hard not to pick up on it.”
“Well you’ve had a really long time to figure that stuff out I guess,” Anakin shrugged, “Hopefully your mind doesn’t go anytime soon or you’ll have to start over again.”
“I assure you Anakin,” Palpatine chuckled, “My mind is as sharp as always.”
“Not to brag, but this is one of those moments where I’m glad I don’t have hair,” Aayla Secura chirped as she checked herself out in the floor length mirror that rested against Stass’ bedpost. It was beyond factual that the girl looked lovely, as every passing Ravenclaw did as they provided the final touches on their Yule Ball outfits.
Aayla had gone for a light blue, form-fitting, strapless gown that seemed to shimmer when the light caught it properly. She’d gone for a more traditionalist headpiece to make up for her aforementioned lack of hair that gently wrapped around the length of her lekku like a silver waterfall. Her makeup had been more accented with deep shades of brown, so as to better emphasize her sharp cheekbones. Completing the look, was a milky pearl clasped at the center of her chest.
The beauty of her friend almost seemed effortless.
However, to say that hair styling had been a struggle for most of the girls would be an understatement. For being some of the smartest witches in the school, they could be daft sometimes. Crinus Muto was a useful spell, yes, but it required a lot of focus to get the exact style desired.
It hadn’t helped that most of the girls hadn’t known exactly what they’d wanted.
Satine had done her hair the normal way, as she’d done for most of her life save for the days where she truly didn’t have the time. She did assist the other girls in maintaining their hair, of course, and advised others maybe not to choose tonight to try any experimental hair colors.
Especially those like Bultar Swan, who was going through a rather rough breakup from Roth-Del Masona, who was with Beauxbatons and opted to go with someone from his own school. Bultar wasn’t going dateless thanks to Joclad Danva, a sixth year Slytherin, nor was she the sort to really sit around and cry about her worries, but everyone knew that being emotionally charged like this was breeding grounds for dramatic style choices.
For example, the girl had pondered shaving her head and dying it orange. Satine suggested she sleep on it instead. While hair growth and stylings were not as permanent in the wizarding world, the pictures and memories from this event very well will be.
“It is something less to have to think about,” Stass chimed in as she smoothed out the fabric of her own dress. Stass, of course, looked like a knockout too and although she’d downplayed her acceptance of Coleman Kcaj’s invitation, was taking extra care to ensure that her deep brown skin was flushed with exuberance and definition to bring out her mysterious violet eyes. In fact, her deep purple dress matched the very color of her eyes somehow, and was beautifully adorned with ruffles at the end. She looked like a true princess and the small tiara she wore in favor of her usual headband solidified this look.
“Yes, congratulations to you both,” Bultar grunted as Satine finished braiding her smooth black hair into a low bun at the nape of her neck.
“I’m not pulling your hair, am I?” Satine asked.
“No, you’re doing great, actually. My mother was never this gentle,” Bultar huffed out a laugh, “If I wasn’t feeling the pulls and the tugs, it wasn’t getting done.”
“Ah, I see,” Satine snorted at that, thinking back briefly to how negatively Bo-Katan responded whenever their mother did her hair. Though Satine knew from experience that their mother was quite careful not to catch the brush through any snags, Bo moved around with such defiance that it surely felt like torture. Satine, on the other hand, would have loved to have her mother here right now just to brush her hair.
And maybe provide some historically sage and helpful motherly advice.
“I’m not stopping you from getting ready, am I?” Bultar asked suddenly, flicking her dark eyes up to Satine.
Satine shook her head, “All I’ve got to do is throw my dress on and I’ll be all set.”
It was true. Satine had learned from experience that it was best to save the dress for last in terms of getting ready. She’d already maneuvered her hair into a low-twisted ballerina bun, which had been possible thanks to magic, since her hair was the shortest it had ever been. She’d return it back to its short length after the ball, but longer hair did make for more to work with.
“I like your new haircut.”
“Really?”
“It suits you.”
She stiffened, feeling every muscle in her body tighten for a minute, responding to the immediate influx of emotions that tried to give way. She hated the lump that started to rise in her throat on instinct and rejected it as much as she could manage.
Perhaps, she should leave it long.
She scowled. No, that was ridiculous. She liked her hair short, even if Bo-Katan had been the one to make such a call earlier in the year. She intended to follow her own interests even if they happened to align with someone else’s.
Presently, she hated that they did.
“Satine?” Stass’s face had fallen from the anticipatory smile that had clung to her face all day. She was watching her with quiet concern that upon second glance, matched Aayla’s and even Bultar’s. “Are you alright?”
Satine cleared her throat, “Of course. I just thought I forgot something, that's all.”
“As far as I can tell, it looks good,” Bultar said, observing her hair and how it was coming along. Thankfully, most of the other girls had already cleared out.
“Probably just homework,” Satine said lamely. “Transfiguration is quite challenging this year.”
Nobody bought it, but since there was no tangible proof that she had been lying, everyone left it alone. She was grateful for that, but knew she wouldn’t be able to dodge the explanation for long. The whole ordeal felt incredibly humiliating to Satine, who felt quite like the town fool to have her hopes publicly quashed. Stass and Aayla hadn’t told anyone, but word still got around fast, leading to an increase in those stupid “Team Ventress” shirts and more infuriatingly, sympathetic looks from people she hardly knew!
Not to mention the very personal apologies from those that she did. She’d hardly seen Cody and as much as she loved the boy, did not want the reminder that there had been change afoot.
She knew eventually, they’d have to develop a different dynamic, but she wasn’t quite ready to face that at the moment. Maybe tonight, in the swell of tradition and jubilation, she’d find the courage to do just that.
In fact, she was resolved to do such a thing.
She wasn’t a hapless widow to be pitied. After all, nothing, in the grand scheme of things, had changed from an external point of view. Satine hadn’t gotten what she wanted, but that didn’t always happen and that was life. She still had her friends, her health, her education, and just about every other tangible thing in her life.
Hell, she still had him as a friend, even if she didn’t know quite how to be that at the moment. A part of her, perhaps the foolish part, still wanted to be. She still wanted him to be safe, still wanted him to be happy, but also needed to look out for her own wants and needs.
Most importantly, she had herself. And while it was the determination to be hopeful that replaced the actual hope and anticipation that had once been there, it felt tangible, and it felt powerful. She might not feel exactly the same as she had before, but she would feel good again. She will feel good tonight . At least for a little while.
Tonight would be the beginning of a new Satine and of a new outlook on life. Maybe she was just riding from the high of being dressed up and beautiful. It certainly gave her a confidence boost that she regrettably needed at the moment. She hadn’t even put the dress on yet, instead being wrapped in a soft pink robe, and just catching glimpses of her hair and face was enough to increase her spirits.
She looked older somehow, than she did even days before, because in a way, she was.
“Satine,” Muttered Bultar, reaching a tentative hand up to touch her head, “You’re pulling.”
Looking forward back at the mirror in front of them to see the poor girl biting her lip from crying out in pain, Satine immediately relented.
“Oh I am so sorry!” She winced, undoing the last bits and redoing them much gentler and less tight. She didn’t want Bultar to be walking around with a migraine all night.
No, she would not be thinking about the moment Obi-Wan had come into her room with a migraine. No, that would not be happening. Otherwise, Bultar might go bald.
At this rate, it would be Satine with the migraine.
“You’re all finished anyway,” She said after hastily pinning up the last strands, “And you look lovely.”
“Thank you,” She smiled, patting her head a little bit to test the durability and hold of the updo. For good measure, Satine performed a strengthening bond on her hair to ensure it would remain fit for a night full of dancing. “Much better than an orange shaved head. I reckon I would have looked like a pumpkin head.”
Satine laughed, “Yes, well, maybe next Halloween.”
“I think not,” Bultar chuckled, “The Ministry wouldn’t go for that.”
“I didn’t know you were going to work for the Ministry of Magic,” Satine commented.
“Oh, actually, I’ll be moving to France to work at their Ministry,” When she received a look from Stass and Aayla, she frowned, “I made this decision last year.”
“We didn’t say anything,” Aayla held up her hands in defense.
“Not every decision I make is fueled by breakup brain,” Bultar said and straightened her shoulders back, “I honestly don’t care if I ever see him ever again.”
“Well, if you do, you’ll be glad you aren’t walking around like a basketball,” Satine said.
That earned her a confused glance from all three girls and she sighed, “It’s a sport.”
“Can we get a move on now?” Aayla whined, opting to change the subject.
“Why? Excited to see if Koth traded in a jersey for dress robes?” Satine retorted.
“Please, if Cody Fett can find dress robes, then anyone can.”
That was absolutely a fair point and though Satine hadn’t been around to see what Cody’s final verdict on picking out a set was, she figured he had to land on something. He did ask her earlier how one can make a corsage, to which she reminded him that he could, in fact, use magic.
“Besides, Bultar isn’t the only one who needs to sweep some idiot boy off his feet to show him what he’s missing.” Aayla added on, watching Satine through a carefully masked gaze.
Satine knew it wasn’t meant to be the kind of comment that left a sting, but seeing as she was very close to defending Obi-Wan for a second there, it did. She did her best not to let it show, not wanting her friend to feel guilty. Her heart was in the right place of course.
“It’s not the same,” She said with a shrug, “It’s not like we broke up or anything.”
You can’t break up what was never really there, after all.
This earned her another one of those infuriating sympathetic looks from her friends.
“Right, but it’s still okay if it hurts,” Aayla said sagely.
Satine knew this on principle. In fact, if either of her friends had been in a… Situation-ship… as she had been, she’d likely deliver the same mantra of advice. However, hearing that she was allowed to hurt made her want to do anything but that.
“I’m fine,” She said, “We’re going to go to this ball, we’re going to dance a load, eat a ton, and lose our voices. Boys be damned. Besides, I’ve got a date and a hot dress that I got solely for my own intents and purposes.”
A partial lie, seeing as there had been a tad of spite in the purchase, but she knew neither girl was going to object to this battle cry.
“Well, let’s get this show on the road then,” Stass said, “Get dressed, because we have pictures to take! And yours, I’m sure, will be the talk of the whole school.”
It was in the Kenobi spirit to be amongst the first ready for any formal occasion. Being on time, to his parents, was being late, unless they felt the event was beneath them. In which case, being late was an honor in and of itself, since they’d deigned to show up at all. Obi-Wan had never subscribed to that logic, always hating the concept of anyone waiting on him.
However, he’d be remiss to say that he wasn’t dragging his feet when getting ready for the Yule Ball. Expectedly, the Ravenclaw boys’ dormitory had been quite a burst of chaos in terms of scrambling around to figure out what corsages were or why bow ties had to be so complicated or why their parents sent them vintage and frilly dress robes.
It had been a nervous energy, but not without eagerness of their own merit.
Obi-Wan had been a little surprised his mother hadn’t opted for something so traditionalist. However, Kenobi formal wear was always sleek and modern, as it encapsulated most of their wardrobe. Because of this, as well as the obvious pressure that was representing Ravenclaw house, she sent him a sleek navy set so dark that it only showed blue in lighting.
As it were, he was the last left in Ravenclaw’s common room and this was to his own preference. He’d moved through the halls today with a robotic numbness that blocked out the growing dread in the pit of his stomach. If it weren’t such an important event, and namely one where he was supposed to be a centerpiece, he might have feigned ill after all and opted out of attending.
But he couldn’t hide within the confines of his four poster bed forever. One day, and one day increasingly soon, the drapes would be yanked open and he would be forced to face the morning day that had been cultivated for him. He’d be standing at the end of an aisle, watching with likely a similar self-preserving numbness, as the end of his freedom approached nearer and nearer.
He swallowed a lump in his throat as he combed his hair back so it was slicked as most of the men in his family wore it. Since he was alone, he could silently admit to hating the look, as it reminded him of his family, who he could not help but resent for all of this.
They didn’t care, of course. His mother spoke with the same resentment for her parents and likely the list went on, building a chain of acrimony that was tightening around Obi-Wan’s neck. His father was so inscrutable when he wasn’t angry, so it was hard to tell how he felt about how his life had turned out. He was certainly not afraid of admitting shame to having such a failure of a son.
And maybe Obi-Wan would have been okay with it all, if he’d remained trapped in the bubble set for him. However, he’d been sorted into Ravenclaw and plopped in an environment different to the one he was raised in. He made friends, who were brilliant and showed him glimpses of what life should be and how acceptance felt. He made his own name and accomplished his own feats, even if they would always go unacknowledged by his family.
He fell so hard and so strongly for a girl that now had every reason to hate him.
And he was losing her, at least romantically, so as to protect her. He had to remind himself that, just in case his own selfishness came to the brink and tried to move him in a direction that would only yield disaster.
He would do it for her.
He clenched his teeth as he looked at himself in the mirror, hating what he saw: a perfect rendition of all things Kenobi, save for the blue robe.
He couldn’t solely blame them, of course. He’d made his choices and though they cut deep like a knife, to watch his friends go on and enjoy life without him, to stand aside and fulfil expectations and destiny that he didn’t approve nor want, he stood by them. He was growing up, after all, he needed to stand by his own decisions and take whatever consequences came his way.
Even if it felt a bit like his chest was being hollowed out in the process.
“She’ll be happier without you anyway,” He said quietly.
After all, Satine would have the opportunity to thrive within the Ministry, safely, he might add, and get to pursue her dreams. She’d bridge the gap between muggles and wizards once and for all and would verbally assault anyone who stood in her way. She was resilient and beautiful and powerful and everything he wished he could be for her in return.
And Quinlan Vos, somehow, could be that person, as bitter as that felt.
What kind of person did that make Obi-Wan? To all but send her off with someone else and then to feel recoil when she went and found herself another option. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have options. He knew this last year, and thought back to how different things would have been if he’d been able to croak out his feelings to her.
Would they have made it through this turmoil? Or would he have been unable to refuse after having been so close to the sun?
He thought about Qui-Gon, and how disappointed he likely would have been with this outcome. However, the wise professor would have told him that thinking back on “what if’s” was nothing but a waste of time. Not if there wasn’t anything to glean from them or learn going forward. All Obi-Wan was doing was causing himself misery.
The only comfort was the idea that she would be happy one day, even if it ached him right now. As her friend, of which he hoped he would always be, that was all he could hope for her.
Or at least, that’s what he wanted to want.
Because he was still angry! He was still angry she found someone that fast and that it was Quinlan Vos. It felt like she wanted it to hurt him a bit, which he knew was probably fair, but didn’t aid the undercurrent of remorse.
Moreover, he was angry with himself for feeling this way.
It was insanely hypocritical and narcissistic and it made him feel ugly inside. So much so that he feared it would bleed outwards.
But he never could act on such anger. That wasn’t him. His parents and their friends encouraged the practice of utilizing fear and anger and turning it into power, but Obi-Wan never liked the feeling of lashing out. It was not his nature and it never would be.
He would move on from this. He just had to get through this night.
And from the inside, Obi-Wan would still find a way to make the world a better place, even if his couldn’t be.
For now, he needed to focus on what he could control. He’d survive this tournament, ensure Anakin did the same, and maybe figure out who was shoving their nose into the tasks.
It had to be a flaw that he was the one being sabotaged. He was no chosen one.
As he forced himself to look away from his own self pity, his eyes fell on the new watch his parents had sent him through the mail. It was everything decorative and impressive as expected. It felt foreign even in his hands, like it didn’t belong to him. Or maybe, it was because just like the family wand that he’d broken in the first task, he didn’t belong to it.
He stared so hard at the watch and raised his wrist to look at the one already neatly clasped, simple and perfect in just about every way. Tentatively, he undid the watch for the first time in almost two years (save for when he took it off for the first task), and held it in the palm of his other hand. Even during the Halloween party and every press junket, he’d kept it latched, even if tucked under his sleeves.
Though he’d already made his choice, this felt a bit like a final transformation in a sense. An end without sight. In his left hand, he held a beautiful gift, made with love and care that had scarcely graced his life prior. And in his right, he held expectation, requirement, duty.
He ran his thumb gently over the glass of the homemade watch, admiring the engraving on the inside of the band with his name on it. It was written in Satine’s hand, he could tell, and not just because he had a knack for deciphering such things. His eyes roved lovingly over the smooth swoops of her letters and how she wrote “Ben” as opposed to “Obi-Wan” like the watch his parents gave him.
In a way, it felt like he was holding the duality of Ben vs Obi-Wan. He was both, he knew that much logically, but one side was who he wanted to be, and the other was who he was expected to be. It was all very dramatic and he knew that any outside viewer would think he was absolutely insane. Nothing changed the reality that he was going to this dance with Ventress. He could not cling to fantasy or hopeful dreams any longer.
Though both were quite light, they felt heavy in his hands, so much so that he feared he might drop them. With an overwhelming sense of change rattling through his body, along with a taste of what had to be heartache, he put on the watch and took a deep breath before departing out the door to fetch his date, not looking back.
#obitine#anidala#Anakin Skywalker#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Satine Kryze#tcw#the clone wars#magical forces au#hpau#star wars
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy birthday, I love you.
Content: best friends to lovers, fluff.
Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem bodied reader.
Word count: 1.7 k
Summary: It’s Levi’s birthday, and you give him the best present ever.
as always, reblogs and opinions are appreciated <3
art for the fic by the amazing Jo <3
It’s the 25th of December, and it’s snowing outside.
Levi’s sitting on a chair inside your bathroom, arms folded over the top rail and legs spreaded over the wooden seat, you’re facing his broad shoulders and toned back. He’s relaxed, completely absorbed by the moment with no worries wandering around his mind, unlike usual. Your fingers feel a little cold as you glide them over his nape, removing the remaining of fallen hairs while you keep shaving the lower part of his head, handling the razor with caution, making sure to be precise.
You’ve done Levi’s hair for years, you were the one to ask him to take care of it the first time, and from that moment on it had just become a habit. Perhaps he’ll never tell you directly, and he’ll never be honest about how the gesture makes him feel, but he’s thankful for you and he could never imagine doing it by himself without experiencing the devotion your careful hands transmit, so you better surrender to the fact that you’ll just have to do his hair every time he needs to.
You’re no fool, knowing Levi for a big part of your life has made you realize that although he might leave some things - some of his emotions - unspoken, they always find a way to rise to the surface, in the form of practical, every day gestures, or in the form of truthful gray eyes looking back at you with all the fondness they can convey. Furthermore, you consider yourself lucky for having the possibility of knowing different sides of him - a lot in fact, if not all. You had been his best friend for a long time, getting to become familiar with what he likes, what he dislikes, his hobbies and his ambitions. Making jokes, laughing in the lightness of an afternoon spent together watching movies he never actually enjoyed, but he’d never tell you for the sake of seeing you smile.
Then, as of now, you get the chance to know him as a lover, and become acquainted with the darkest and less easy part of him. He swears he’ll never forget the way his heart widened in his chest when you told him that yes, you wanted more too.
Anyhow, once you’re finished fixing his undercut, you put the razor away and grab a towel to get rid of the little hairs sticking to his neck, which you’re certain feel annoying. You take your time even then, caressing his skin after you’re done and the flannel is discarded, and running your fingers through his hair to make sure you’ve done a good job.
“It looks great.” you smile proudly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.
Levi scoffs, turning around on the chair to be able to finally face you, “You sure you’re not saying it because you want to convince yourself?”
The scowl on your features makes it hard for him to keep a grin from appearing on his, and he can’t help but tug you down by the chin and leave a chaste kiss on your pout, to which you immediately give in. It’s light and gentle, his fingers sweetly cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, the affection growing inside you feels so deep and genuine you’re amazed you’re even capable of experiencing such an emotion, words could never truly describe it. You’ve always felt this way towards Levi, or else you would have never accepted his proposal to commit to a serious relationship that could have possibly put your friendship at risk if you weren’t sure of your feelings, but right now? Right now, for some reasons, it seems to weigh down on you even more, the desire of just speaking your mind and making him aware.
“I love you.” it comes out as a whisper, you’re still slightly bent down to reach his height.
You don’t know if you imagined it, but you’re almost certain his eyes widened at your confession, breath getting stuck in his throat while he looks at you attentively, as if searching for ways to confirm that what he heard was right. You’ve been together - as in “boyfriend and girlfriend” together - for some months now, but thus far, none of you had ever let out these words. Levi’s been in love with you for years at this point, but the likelihood of speaking such an important admission and putting pressure on you scared him too much, and waiting was something he was willing to deal with if it meant being with you. The day he understood what the unwavering emotion that seemed to swallow him whenever he was around you - or whenever he would do just as much as think about you - was, and could finally name it accordingly, he thought he was going to crawl back in his cowardice and push you away for good, to avoid the chance of you rejecting him or the eventuality of getting hurt, or worse, hurting and losing you.
But how could he ignore the way you looked sweetly at him with concern, or joy, or affection or kindness each time he met your gaze in specific circumstances? It felt impossible, it was impossible, and he didn’t want to live without you. He still doesn’t want to, and now he’s more sure than ever. He remains faithful to you and your heart and your dedication, he can’t let you slip away from his fingers, not when you make him this happy, not when you shape him into a better man.
So he rests his hands on your waist, before finally standing up to meet your height, this time, “What did you say?” the question comes out in a low tone, holding softness and disbelief.
If you were to trust your fears and succumb to the apprehension that bubbles up at the thought of losing him and the prospect of this going wrong, you would keep your mouth shut and just pretend as though you never said anything, but you’re sick and tired of playing hide and seek and letting your pride and mind win over your heart, so you don’t hesitate a minute longer.
“I love you.” the words slip past your lips easily, much more confident and loud than before, still holding the same emotion.
He pulls you closer instinctively, chest rising and falling almost heavily, “Say it again.”
A smile emerges on your face, your lips crave his rosy ones, “Happy birthday, I love you.” one of your hands bunches the collar of his shirt, while the other grips his nape as you nuzzle his nose.
He loses himself in your scent, in your sincerity and in you, he honestly doesn’t think there will ever be a moment in his life when he’ll get to be as truly happy as he is now. Actually, he thinks he’s just never been this happy. But that’s what you do, isn’t it? You bring such colors and delight in his life, Levi feels like a kid all over again. No, not even that, he couldn’t experience this giddiness as a kid, but with you right now everything seems possible and god - he’s going to marry you, he has to. He’ll never be capable of expressing what he’s feeling right now, putting it into words appears impossible for such strong and visceral emotions, so he draws you in for a kiss and pulls you back, until your shoulders come in contact with the walls behind you and his palms are caging your face to keep you close to him, tongue sliding into your mouth to taste yours.
It’s slow but hungry at the same time, and you feel like you’re both pouring out your entire being in this kiss, for the other to drink and get lost in.
It’s intimate, it’s an unspoken promise and it’s beautiful, utter and profound. You break the kiss only when you’re both running out of breath, your chest pressing against his and you swear you can feel his heart beating along with yours. He rests his forehead on yours for a while, eyes closed as he indulges in the moment, trying to realize this is actually happening to him, he’s not dreaming.
“I have a gift for you.” you inform him, leaning into his touch as his warm hand caresses your cheek, your fingers resting upon it.
He looks at you fondly, the intensity of his gaze almost makes you shiver, “This is my gift,” his affirmation is serious, his eyes digs into yours as though willing to carve the forthcoming words in your brain, so you’ll never forget, “and it’s the best one I could ever ask for.”
Levi’s a lot of things, that you’re aware of - and it’s exactly what you love about him - but he’s not a liar, that’s why you will never doubt what comes out of his mouth, for his honesty it’s what you appreciate the most. His honesty, and the way he’s capable of valuing you and making you feel as if you’re the only person worthy of his time and his underlying softness, of his affection, your heart swells with so much..devotion, you’ll never be able to keep it to yourself. You don’t want to, the man in front of you deserves it all.
“I love you, so so much.” and it’s the last thing you register before your lips are avidly back on his, and you’re holding him so close it seems like you’re afraid he’s going to drift away.
But he never will, and you never will, and the way he chants my girl, my gorgeous girl in your ear, every time you give him the chance to take in some oxygen and refill his lungs, it’s enough for you to be sure that he’ll stay by your side until the very end, until one of his birthdays will be the last and you’ll get tired of gifting him with a fresh set of teacups every year.
SAKURASHELL © 2021. All content belongs to SAKURASHELL. Do not copy, modify, or repost my work. Do not share any of my Tumblr content on another platform without permission.
taglist: @crybabyddl , @the-princess-button , @erentoes , @simpxxslutxx (if you’re here it’s cause you asked to be tagged for every character, if you wish to be removed please message me, or update the google form <3)
#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x y/n#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman fic#levi x y/n#levi x reader#levi x you#levi x reader fluff#levi fluff#attack on titan levi#aot levi#shingeki no kyoujin levi#snk levi#aot fluff#aot fic#snk fic#snk fluff#attack on titan fluff#levi aot#levi snk
808 notes
·
View notes
Text
losing you | yoon jeonghan
° pairing: jeonghan x f!reader, jun x f!reader
° genre: soulmate!au, bittersweet angst
° summary: losing me is better than losing you.
° word count: 1.5k
° warnings: implied death but details aren’t explicit! i promise the fic itself isn’t bad ><
° a/n: TEEHEE @vibecheckvernon SURPRISE I’M UR TCT SECRET SANTA !!!! 😌 posted this a little later for prime angst reading times :D I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS!!! p.s. pls don’t sue me i love you <3
inspired by: @95boysbe ‘s fic, ‘when you love someone’ (tysm for all of you for helping me find this again! 💓 pls go check out their work as well!) + wonho’s song ‘losing you’
masterlist!
jeonghan has no intentions of going to his family’s christmas party. at least not this early. looking into his appearance in the mirror, he wraps the red checkered scarf around his neck so the ends nicely drape over his white long sleeve shirt tucked under his matching sweater vest. a festive look to hide away his disinterest buried in his “enthusiasm”.
“daddy, are you not coming with us?” jeonghan jolts by the sudden tugging of his sweater from his side, looking over, forcing his eyes to meet with his daughter’s watery orbs.
he crouches down to one knee so he’s completely eye level, tucking in the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “not yet sweetheart. daddy’s gotta pick up a few things for the party.” he opens his arms wide for the tiny human to bury herself in a bear-like embrace.
“stay by mommy’s side at all times, okay?” the little girl steps back to face her father, her hands gripping onto jeonghan’s index finger. “promise?” he continues to persist until she sniffles a series of nods. a small melancholy smile creeps onto jeonghan’s face as he wiggles himself out of her powerful grasp and cups her cheeks, creating small circles on her soft cheekbones with his thumbs.
“good girl. i’ll be back before you notice i’m gone.”
the walk there is shorter than jeonghan was expecting and it almost makes him sick to his stomach. he wants the anticipation to subside by the time he gets there, yet at this rate, he would arrive with nothing but the swell of guilt weighing down inside of him.
the winter chill makes him shiver, hiding his balled fists in his pockets. the farther he walks, this once familiar street slowly turns into the abyss as the fog erases his footsteps along with the glimmery lights surrounding him. but jeonghan is only focused on the dark pathway ahead of him. weeks after hearing the news, and an additional few months of “recovery”, his imagination has conditioned him for far worser environments than some cold weather.
the field of clean cut grass beside him is now closed off, barred by a wired fence painted white indicating he was getting close. it was a foolish thing really. this entire time, from the moment jeonghan left the house until now, he’s been trying to find the right words to say to you. what he would say to you if you were willing to hear him out. question he desperately wants answered. jeonghan lowers his head, scoffing under his breath knowing you probably would have. even though he knew himself that he didn’t deserve it. and neither did you.
he comes to a pause at the entrance, reaching out to maneuver the chains that lock the gateway. taking a slow deep breath in, jeonghan looks up before entering the place of the dead, only to see that you already had company.
the hint of discomfort causes jeonghan’s body to stiffen - the sight of an tall, unfamiliar man here with you triggering his fight or flight response, his instincts urging for the first rather than late. why would he be at a place like this? and on christmas no doubt.
jeonghan takes his time walking towards you both, eyeing his physique up and down from afar. as he got closer, he examines the man’s notable facial features. the longer he stares, the more confused jeonghan gets causing him to crease his eyebrows. neither of you know him. jeonghan shakes the thought away- no, he doesn’t know him. maybe within the time you were away, the two might have met. jeonghan keeps his mind neutral, accepting all the possibilities.
the mysterious man dressed down in this cold december, notices jeonghan walking this way before he could stop in his tracks to presenting himself in front of you. chuckling at the grimace look on jeonghan’s face.
as respectful as he could possibly mutter, jeonghan opens his mouth to speak, “who-”
“so you must be yoon jeonghan,” he’s quick to cut him off, knowing exactly what might be running through his mind right now. he nods his head towards him, acknowledging the new, delighted presence that fills the air. “my name’s jun.” he watches as the imaginary fumes streaming from the top of jeonghan’s head start to dissipate. “a friend of hers back in america,” he lied, not that jeonghan would ever know anyways. “she talked a lot about you. it almost got annoying.
just like how jeonghan did, jun studies him in his entirety. a smirk forming on his lips finding that he looked exactly how you described. as well as his own description: a good for nothing low life with faltering loyalty. jun scowls at the ring wrapped around jeonghan’s finger. “talk about that red string of fate, huh,” his words protrude the thick musk that wavers around them, finally breaking jeonghan’s walls. “don’t mind me though. i’m just here to pay my respects as a friend,”jun says, his words laced with sarcasm.
jeonghan freezes in his spot, feeling only a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes as the flood of memories of the two of you replay in the back of his mind. the entirety of your childhood, including your teenage and what was there for your college years. until the dreaded day you decided to leave. “so, you knew?” he whispers more so for his curiosity rather than looking for an actual answer.
and from the look on jeonghan’s face, jun could tell. “yeah,” he says just enough for jeonghan to hear. “i knew a lot.” he averts his eyes away from the soft hearted gaze that now appears on jeonghan’s face.
jun may not have known you the same amount of time as jeonghan did. but the way you wore your heart on your sleeve despite being so vulnerable even after the fact, jun can pluck out things even jeonghan probably never noticed. how jeonghan could ever leave his soulmate for someone else, jun will never fathom at the thought.
but jun knew your side of the story, how you felt watching your soulmate drew you guys apart. no, he wasn’t your friend per say, not in his official title anyway. when you were admitted into the hospital, jun was only there as a volunteer. he had a responsibility to look after all his assigned patients as comfort companions through their clinical care, including you.
you were the hospital’s one exception. at the point of your critical condition, doctors truly didn’t know when the time would pass. knowing no one else in the states aside from your family, jun soon became your side by side as hospital bed buddies. and hated every moment of it.
he hated the way you smiled so brightly for him every day despite how sick you were. but stare blankly at your food whenever it came to you and end up not eating. he hated how you easily created friendships with the nurses and other caretakers at hospital, including himself. but refused to take your medication. he hated how fondly you talked about love when you weren’t feeling it. he hated hearing the sniffles that came from your room every morning after he clocked in. he hated it so much that you still smiled saying your soulmate's name even though he was doing the same thing for someone else. in the end, jun was too late to tell you all that.
fate, being the sick bastard that it is, has jun meeting the one person he actually came to hate. and he’ll do one better. just like how jeonghan never got to know about your true feelings and conditions, jun will never tell him how much he truly cared for you. how he was entirely convinced he, a person who wasn’t even destined to have a soulmate, could fill the void that jeonghan had left.
the longer jun stands there, the small pit of anger quietly begins to boil and that was his cue to leave. he avoids eye contact as he stirs away from the flowers he left you and tries to make his exits, stopping at his tracks when jeonghan speaks once again.
“then can i ask you something? your opinion as her friend. since you know,” he hiccups, the words coming out a beat too late. his voice also shaky, not knowing if it was due to the cold or the rise of his nerves.
jun leans on one leg, stuffing his hands in the side pockets of his leathered coat. he almost says no. he wants to say no. “shoot,” sounding unbothered.
“do you think she’d still want to be my soulmate in a different life?”
jeonghan’s heart churns at his own question, as does jun’s. he could have asked any other question, but out of the hundreds he accumulated in the mile walk here, jeonghan figured this was the one that jun could at least give some thought.
jun takes a sharp inhale in, his nails forming small crescent moons into his palm. with a heavy sigh, he turns back around and scoffs at the sight of jeonghan tearing up in front of you. and with gritted teeth, he responds.
“of course she would.”
#seventeen#yoon jeonghan#caratwritersclub#seventeen angst#jeonghan angst#wen junhui#junhui angst#seventeen scenario#jeonghan scenario#junhui scenario#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#jeonghan x reader#junhui x reader
196 notes
·
View notes
Link
December 1814
“Hush, darling,” Eliza whispered. “It’s all right.”
Angelica curled up further on the bed beside Eliza with a soft whimper. At least she was resting, finally, after hours of panic about invisible demons reaching out from the walls to take her away. Eliza had had to push the bed away from the walls before she’d been able to convince her daughter to lie down.
Eliza closed her eyes, the press of the day weighing on her already. Servants were bustling through the halls just outside the door, heaving trunks from little Eliza and Phil’s rooms. They were all bound for New York at first light tomorrow to celebrate Johnny’s wedding to his dear Maria. A joyous occasion to be sure, especially as she anticipated having their children together for the first time in years: William was meant to be coming down from West Point, and Alex and Jamie had secured time away from their posts, as well. Joyous, yes, even as it hurt that so much of her family wouldn’t be there, with Angelica and Peggy both gone, her parents, and Philip…. She swallowed around a lump in her throat at the thought of her eldest.
Her younger daughter shrieked suddenly from down the hall. “Give it back! Now!”
“I’m using it!” Phil yelled back.
“It’s mine!”
Eliza sighed, easing herself from Angelica’s bed to go see what all the fuss was about. Phil and little Eliza were engaged in an all out tug of war over a bit of ribbon in the hallway between their rooms. She watched silently for a moment, frowning, her arms crossed, waiting for them to notice her displeasure.
Phil noticed her first and abruptly let go of the ribbon. Little Eliza stumbled backwards, landing hard on her bottom. She yelped, glared up at her brother, and aimed a swift kick at his ankles.
“What are you two doing?” she demanded.
“She started it,” Phil said, jumping hastily out of the line of fire.
“He stole my best ribbon and he was using it to hang toy soldiers out the window.”
“I was going to give it back.”
“It’s got dirt all over it and you got it all wrinkled.” She held the ribbon up to show her mother. “See? I wanted to wear it to Johnny’s wedding.”
Phil stuck his tongue out at his sister. When she noticed, she aimed another kick at his ankles. He jumped back again, shouting, “Stop it!”
“What is all the yelling about?” Alexander asked as he slowly wheeled himself around the corner, to their collective surprise.
Despite the gathering dark outside the hall window, she was shocked to see him home; she’d hardly seen hide nor hair of him in the past days as they prepared to leave for their extended trip home. Both the children went quiet at his unexpected arrival, and little Eliza bounced up to her feet.
“Sorry Papa,” they both mumbled quickly.
“We seem to be having quite the disagreement over a bit of ribbon,” Eliza supplied when they failed to offer further explanation.
Alexander looked at her with a hint of a smile. “Want me to send them to help dig out the new latrine by the camp? That’s what I do with the men who mouth off. Very effective punishment.”
They both paled considerably, sending her matching pleading looks.
She made a show of considering for a long beat before smiling as well. “I think we can give them one more chance before we put them to hard labor.”
“We’ll be good,” Phil promised solemnly.
“I expect so.” Alexander tilted his head to the side to dismiss them. “Off you go. Stop making your mother’s life difficult.”
If only he’d take his own advice, she thought fondly.
They scampered off down the hall, both giving their father an affectionate peck on the cheek as they passed. He shook his head as he watched them go, then looked back at her, the laugh lines in his cheeks creasing. “Imps.”
“Well, we did complain the house was too quiet without them,” Eliza said. Indeed, when Alexander had sent them off to stay with family over the summer for their safety, the house had felt empty without their constant bickering and antics. She paced over to him and leaned down to kiss him, as well. “It’s good to have you home finally. You missed dinner again.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been much help getting ready for our trip. I’ve been in endless meetings. When I at one point raised the concern about the endless meetings, one of Jemmy’s secretaries quite unironically asked if I would like him to schedule a meeting to discuss it.”
She laughed.
He grinned at her, but his eyes turned serious when he glanced towards the door to Angelica’s room. “How’s Geli today?”
Eliza sobered as she, too, glanced back at her daughter’s door. “She’s been having a bad day.”
He sighed. “She’s been having a lot of bad days, lately. I heard her whimpering and muttering when I got home late last night. She was wide awake when I peeked in at her. I doubt she got much rest.”
Eliza hardly needed reminding, having been up much of the night with her. “She’s resting now, finally.”
“That’s something, I suppose.”
His hands fidgeted on the wheels of his chair. She watched him a moment, sensing he had something else to tell her. The expression twisting his face usually signaled some sort of indigestion. When he failed to say anything more, she asked, “What is it?”
“Well,” he started, his hand going up to scratch at his neck uncomfortably.
Anxiety started to build up at his continued reluctance to speak. “If you say you can’t come to New York for your own son’s wedding—”
“No, no, it’s not that.” He sighed, resting his hands on the wheels of his chair once more, as though contemplating an escape even as he spoke. “It’s just, I need to meet with some people before I leave. And the only time they would both be available was tonight. So, I may have suggested they stop by the house before we leave. They’re on their way over now, actually. For tea.”
She felt her own expression twisting to match his, heartburn flaring in her chest as a suspicion about his guest list occurred to her. “Who?”
“Burr,” he said.
“Burr,” she repeated, disbelief in her tone even though that’s exactly the name she’d expected to hear. “You expect me to serve tea to Aaron Burr?”
“Well,” he started again.
“You promised me. You promised, when you suggested him for his position, that I wouldn’t need to be alone with him.”
“I said not just the three of us.” He fidgeted in his chair again, clearly not relishing delivering his next bit of news. “Someone else is coming, too.”
He seemed somehow more reluctant to tell her the next guest. How could it possibly get worse? “Who else?”
He gritted his teeth, hesitating again before saying, “Monroe.”
A wave of cold fury washed over her. “Monroe!”
“Shh,” he hushed, pointing towards Angelica’s room behind them.
Her nostrils flared as she forced a deep breath, jerking her head to indicate he should follow her down the hall before moving around him towards his office. He liked to praise her as an endless fountain of love and patience, she thought, but much as she might try, she simply wasn’t. Her nerves were already frayed from sleepless nights and managing ornery children and overseeing the packing and planning for their journey. Now he wanted her to cap off her night by serving tea to two of the most loathsome men on earth.
He rolled in to the office behind her, and she snapped the door closed.
“No,” she said firmly.
“Eliza—”
“No, Alexander. No. You ask too much, sometimes.”
He smiled softly, highlighting the dimples in his cheeks, and reached out for her hand. “You’d send me into the viper’s nest without my trusty mongoose for protection?”
“You can’t charm your way out of this,” she hissed.
“Betsey,” he sighed, expression turning serious. “It can’t be helped.”
“They’re not welcome here. Not in my home. Neither of them.”
“You know I try to keep them away as much as possible. I know how you feel.”
“Do you? Because sometimes, the way you act, especially around Burr—”
“I understand. I do. But I need to see them before I go. It’s important.”
“What’s so important?”
“Campbell submitted his budget, just before he conveniently resigned to see to his health. He estimated an appropriation of $25 million would be needed, which is far, far beyond the expected tax revenue of $11 million, and all that’s before factoring in the cost of rebuilding the capital.”
She sank into the chair near his desk, sensing a lengthy conversation. “Go on.”
“Then there’s this…this treasonous…convention.” She could hear the quotes around the last word as he spit it out. “Otis has called a meeting of Federalists all across New England to propose a radical change in our national compact. Because what we need in the middle of a war, apparently, is a new constitutional convention intent on gutting the Federal government.”
“Were you invited?”
He snorted. “As if I’d stoop to attending such a farcical proceeding.”
She smiled a little. She knew he’d have gloried in attending, monopolizing the conversation until his voice went hoarse telling them exactly why they were all idiots and cowards, had he been given the opportunity. “So no?”
He shot her a glare, but then smirked, caught red-handed by her knowing look. “I think they knew what my answer would be.”
She threaded her fingers between his. “I know how stressed you are about the war and fate of the country, sweetheart. But I don’t see what a meeting with those two—” she paused, hunting for a word, and, finding none, continued with only the empty space to define them, “—helps accomplish.”
“Monroe is acting Secretary of War, and, with Campbell gone, probably acting Secretary of the Treasury as well at this point. I need him to call on Congress to establish a new national bank, which in turn will help fund additional men. At least 100,000 to start.”
“And I’m sure he’ll take your direction with great enthusiasm.”
“Not with enthusiasm, perhaps, but he’ll take my direction, once I explain the need.”
“And Burr?”
“The Hartford Convention needs to be minimized. We need a shot of patriotism in that part of the country, a call to arms to rally flagging spirits. Since the Northern theater quieted, they’ve been shouldering the financial burden with none of the chance for glory. Meanwhile, the enemy is starting to gather with an eye towards New Orleans. If we can start mustering troops in New England, threaten an invasion of Canada, we might be able to press England into peace and herd New England back into the fold at the same time.”
“And you want Burr to head the effort,” she said, intuiting his plan now. Once Monroe agreed to call upon Congress to fund new troops, Burr would ride north to start mustering a force to take on Canada again.
“Exactly.” His eyes bore into hers. “And it needs to happen now. Immediately. Congress can’t be frightened into cutting back on the army, or we’ll be a British colony again by New Year’s.”
She squeezed his hand.
“So?” he pressed.
She held his gaze. “I suppose I’ll let them in when they knock. I won’t agree to more than that.”
He leaned over in his chair to catch her lips. “That’s all I need from you.”
**
That she managed to bring in the tea service without pouring the scalding water over either of their two unwanted guests ought to have qualified her sainthood, in her opinion. She didn’t stay in the room with them, didn’t even mutter a greeting. She did stay near the door, however, listening, while Alexander laid out his plan. She couldn’t quite bring herself to abandon him, even when he’d invited the viper’s nest upon himself.
“I wasn’t a particular supporter of your bank the first time around, Mr. Hamilton,” Monroe said. “Why should I call on Congress to re-charter it now?”
“How else are you going to pay for more troops, Mr. Secretary?”
Monroe answered in a measured tone. “We’re mere weeks away from a peace treaty, according to my intelligence in Ghent. Once that’s signed, there won’t be a need for more troops. We can cut back, limit spending to match our more limited revenue stream temporarily, until imports duties return to their pre-war levels.”
“You don’t think the British are also gathering intelligence?” Burr asked. “They’ll be watchfully waiting for our new budget proposals. If we’re seen dismantling the army before the war is over, why would they ever agree to a peace deal? Might as well take us for their own again.”
Monroe scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’ve practically already signed. And I think we’ve proven far too troublesome to bother with as a colony again.”
“Too troublesome thirty years ago,” Burr pointed out. “And we were lucrative. If we can’t mount a solid defense, no reason not to give it another try.”
Alexander added, “You need to get the dissent in New England under control. And you need funding. Even without the additional expense of more troops, rebuilding the capital will be an expensive endeavor. You need to do this.”
“I don’t like the bank,” Monroe said sourly.
Alexander laughter bitterly. “It’s me you don’t like, Mr. Secretary. And that’s quite all right. I assure you the feeling is mutual. But you have to do this. Don’t make me go over your head to Jemmy to force you into action. It will only waste time.”
There was a long silence, tension palpable. “Fine. I’ll propose re-chartering the bank and adding funding for more troops. But I can’t promise it will pass.”
“Oh, I think you’ll find the votes, Mr. Secretary,” Alexander insisted. “Necessity is a great motivator.”
Sensing the meeting was coming to a close, Eliza moved to summon the servants to bring the hats and coats. She didn’t want them lingering in the front room any longer than necessary. In the moments she’d stepped away, however, something must have happened, because she suddenly heard raised voices coming from the office. She hurried back, opening the door to the office to find Burr standing in between Monroe and Alexander.
Monroe was all but shouting, “You think just because you’ve blinded Jemmy with nostalgic appeals to a long-dead friendship that you can always have your way, just as you did with Washington. I’ll not be so easily taken in, Mr. Hamilton, I promise you that.”
Burr placed a hand on Monroe’s shoulder, trying to ease him away from Alexander.
Alexander looked blithely unconcerned, all but smirking at Monroe as he said, “I’ll remind you there is no guaranteed succession in this country, Mr. Monroe, however many hats you acquire during this administration. I wouldn’t be so assured of victory in the next election, if I were you.”
Color rose in Monroe’s face as he pushed around Burr, holding a finger out in Alexander’s direction. “Enjoy your influence while you have it. Your days are numbered.”
“That’s quite enough,” Eliza said, voice deadly quiet, fury taking wing in her chest at the implied threat.
Monroe spun around to face her. “Mrs. Hamilton—”
“You have nothing to say to me, Mr. Monroe.”
“I apologize for raising my voice,” he continued, bowing his head slightly.
“No. No. If you mean to offer anything other than a full and sincere apology, not only for the unforgivable words you just uttered, but also for all the slanders and stories you circulated against my husband in the past, I have no interest in hearing it.”
Monroe frowned. “If you mean…the business with the Reynolds papers was hardly my doing. Your husband—”
“What my husband did was a matter we have long since settled between us. But that the rest of the world was involved was very much your doing. He has earned my forgiveness. You’ve never even bothered to ask it.”
“Mrs. Hamilton—”
“And you now have the…the gall to come into my home, drink my refreshments, and then threaten the person I hold dearest in the world. Please leave, Mr. Monroe. Now.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Burr patted at his shoulder, encouraging him forward. Just before Burr himself stepped out, though, he glanced back at her husband. “You’re a real pain in the ass, Ham. You know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” Alexander had the nerve to look fond as he addressed Burr.
“Out,” she insisted.
Burr at least had the decency to avert his eyes as he passed her, collecting their coats and urging Monroe out the front door without another word.
When the door had closed, she looked back at Alexander, still sitting in the middle of the room. He gave her plaintive look. “I’m so sorry, Betsey. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand. Or for you to be pulled into the middle of it.”
She pointed in the direction the two men had just disappeared, her hand shaking slightly from rush of rage and fear that coursed through her. “That man is never, ever setting foot in my home again.”
“Of course. Never again.”
Promises, promises—how he could make them. Her heart was still beating in her throat. He rolled forward and took her hand, placing a kiss to the back of her fingers.
She softened as she looked back at him, calming somewhat with his easy agreement and solid feeling of his hand in hers. The reason for his insistence on the meeting in the first place re-occurred to her, and she felt a niggle of concern despite herself. “Do you think he’ll still put forward the proposal to Congress?”
“Yes.” He sounded completely confident. “He doesn’t have a choice. Jemmy will back me if it comes to a contest, and he knows it. I just don’t want to lose time on the argument when every minute counts. We’re too close, balanced on the edge of a precipice. I’ll not let our experiment fail over pigheadedness and pride.”
She considered the exchanged she’d walked in on again, eyes locked on her husband. “You said that to him, didn’t you? You goaded him into shouting at you.”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “I do so enjoy winding him up with impotent rage.”
She wanted to be angry with him, but amusement was quickly outpacing the sensation. Damn him, his charm, and his sweet smile, she thought. She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head at him. Relief washed over his face.
“I really didn’t mean to drag you into it, though, my dearest.” He kissed her hand again, looking more relaxed. “Though I confess I enjoyed watching you kick him to the curb. My darling mongoose.”
His darling mongoose, indeed, she huffed internally.
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
#5 The Magical Time of Year (Mark Tuan x you)
Fifth day of Christmas
The Magical Time of Year (Mark Tuan x you)
I do not own the pictures, but I own the stories :) hope you enjoy this
Who decides to say that December is the magical time of the year, must be amazingly great in predicting things. You never think that December is a special month, you usually just enjoy it because it has Christmas and New Year’s Eve which means you close another page of a year and open a new one. You got new chances, new blank pages, and 365 more days to achieve your goals.
It is only two days to the last day of the year and sitting back on your sofa in the small studio you rented in Seoul, you think about the things you’ve achieved this year. You finished your second year of college, met a lot of nice friends, had a great summer with that new friend from Hong Kong (Jackson) and the LA guy (Mark Tuan) who surprisingly is super quiet. Come to think of it, you did not know how the loud guy from Hong Kong can be good friend with that mysterious LA. Fall also ended nicely with Jackson introducing you to Jinyoung, who sings beautifully. This Christmas however you do not go home to your hometown mostly because your Winter break is short, and you went home last summer already.
Your mind brings you back to the mysterious LA guy, Mark Tuan is a transfer student from LA, and your first impression was not good at all. He was walking while talking to Jackson mindlessly while bringing a cup of ice americano. Yes he spilled a cup of coffee accidentally, but he did not ask for an apology. You really think even if his Korean is not good, muttering a sorry is not hard right? He was frozen, Jackson was the one panicking when he saw your white shirt stained black right now.
You cannot erase that bitter memory and since then, Mark Tuan has been listed under the name of the people you hate. You were surprised when Jackson brought him to the summer trip you planned with him and Jinyoung. His reason was because Mark didn’t have any friend to spend the summer with and he think that it is a good way for you to get closer with him. That did not happen. Though you did enjoy the summer thanks to Jinyoung and Jackson, Mark and you had your own cold war. Maybe more like you were ignoring him, he didn’t bother you though. He tried to talk with you but everything ended up in vain when the holiday ended and you still cannot really get along with him.
Your phone suddenly rings when you’re deep in thought, carelessly you pick it up without really looking the owner of the number.
���(y/n)??” the hoarse voice lets you know who is calling you.
“Yes Jackson?” you glance at your calendar and clock. He’s supposed to be in Hong Kong already, why is he calling you out of the blue.
“You’re in Seoul right?” he sounds rushed.
You nod your head though he cannot see, “yep why? You left something??’
“No. Jinyoung is back to his hometown too and I am in Hong Kong,” his voice is the same one he always uses when he needs you to do something.
You sense something bad is about to happen and bulls’ eye, Jackson dropped the bomb.
“Well, you’re the last one in Seoul with a shelter, and the weather happens to be bad in Seoul’s way to Japan.”
You don’t like how he is beating around the bush and your gut says something bad will happen.
“Cut it short, why are you calling me?”
Jackson exhales from the other end of the line, “Fine. Mark’s flight got cancelled.”
You stay silent for a while, waiting for Jackson to tell the point of him telling you this.
“Mark can’t go back to the apartment because we ended our contract and the new apartment, we share will be available when we return to Seoul.”
“So what? You want me to take care of him?” you sound supper annoyed but you also feel bad for him. After all it’s not his fault his flight got cancelled, you also imagine if you are in his shoes, you’ll be so desperate since you cannot go back to your family and have no where to stay.
“Tell him to wait, I’ll take my car.” You reluctantly stand up to change your comfortable warm pyjamas to proper clothes.
“Thank you so much! You’re the best, Mark was afraid to call you. I know you’re a nice friend, I’ll make it up to you when I’m back. Thank you so much!!!’ Jackson sends you a kiss from the phone and you just hang up.
Though you don’t have any special bond with Mark, you still feel like you’ll be inhumane if you let him wander alone in the cold winter night.
When you step into your car, your phone lights up this time it’s from Mark.
“Hey (y/n), um sorry to be a burden Jackson told me everything. I was about to call you but he was faster. Your line got busy when I reached out.” He sounds nervous.
You want to tell him to just calm down, you’re not going to bite him though. It also hurts you seeing him super afraid of being with you, when you’re actually just shy enough to let your heart open to him because you’re afraid you will love him and ended up broken hearted because he’s not interested in you.
Yes you shall admit his persona is different from the other two. He’s quiet but in his silent smile, you feel a special emotion bubbling inside you. The way Mark just sit back and see Jackson bickers with Jinyoung, enjoying the two fights you always remember how his eyes spark with love and adoration. You were being distant to him because you were afraid you’ll end up getting hurt if you fall too deep into his mysterious persona. You lied by saying you hate him from your first encounter, seriously that is a silly meaningless thing, but you used that to lie.
“Hey Mark, don’t be too nervous. Just wait I’m driving to you. Text me where you will be waiting, I’ll pick you up there.” You end the call to focus on the road and arrive safely.
He was standing on the appointed place and you open up your trunk to help him with his luggage.
You go down to greet him, “Flight got cancelled?” you open with a small talk.
He nods, “Bummer, sorry I disturb you this late, and even intrudes to your house.”
You smirk, “Well even though we might not be close with one another, it’s Christmas and New Year’s eve holiday. I know how hard it is to find a flight and a hotel. Plus I cannot let you freeze to death by yourself in the best time of the year, so please come with me.” You chuckle and he laughs suddenly he’s warm and not so cold to you and you feel your heart beating faster.
“Let me drive, you sit next to me. As a thank you for picking me up and offering me a place.” He kindly offers you to drive and you shrug your shoulder, “Won’t say no.”
He smiles and takes the driver’s place; you sit next to him and he smiles when he feels the warm and toasty air in your car. “Whoop this is warmer than the café I sat earlier. Now lead the way.” He starts the car and the two of you go back to the heart of the town.
“I didn’t expect you will allow me to stay over.” Mark abruptly confesses, you stare away from the window to look at him.
“Well I guess I need to end the cold war between us before the year ends, also I imagine what it’s like to be you and I guess if I am in your position I’d hope anyone wants to accept me in their house.”
Mark nods, “Thank you for thinking about me, I actually did not know why we cannot be close. I think it’s because of our first encounter, right? Sorry I spilled coffee and I was super nervous I forgot to ask apology.” He looks into your eyes.
You blush, suddenly feeling shy for making that a big deal and making him think you really hate him for that. You shake your head, “That was not a good memory, but it’s okay. I mean I can forgive you. I’ve forgiven you for that.”
He relaxes, “So, tell me what scares you from me?”
You bite your lip, is this a great time to tell him the truth?
“Just be open to me, I want to know you more. I see how you can be so close to Jackson and Jinyoung And it just hurts me when I feel so left out.”
You gasp, not realizing he felt left out, but you didn’t mean it at all. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out.” You take a breath, “Here’s the truth, don’t freak out and don’t hate me for this.”
He looks to you and nods, “I promise I won’t be mad.”
You look into the window, afraid that you’ll chicken out if you see his perfectly sculptured face.
“I was afraid if I open up to you, I’ll love you and get hurt.”
You expect him to be very quiet or suddenly feel super awkward, but his response is totally what you never expect.
“Oh, may I know why you think you will get hurt?” his voice is different, more calm, deep, and sweet.
You sigh, time to let all the secret out you will be staying with this guy until god knows when.
“You’re a heartthrob Mark, everyone looks at you like you’re a perfect ideal boyfriend! You’re the talk of the town. I mean at least the friends I knew were always talking about winning your heart. I just feel like I didn’t stand a chance.” You admit finally, letting the stone that is weighing your heart, crumble.
Mark calmly answers you, “And didn’t you know you’re also the talk of the town? You’re always kind and friendly. Always the first one to reach out a hand when someone needs help. I feel like I am not that friendly and you wouldn’t want to befriend me.”
You blush, is he flattering you or is this the truth.
“You’re too much there.” You laugh and he shakes his head, “I am dead serious. Look even now, no matter how awkward we were, you chose to help me! If you didn’t answer Jackson yes, maybe I’ll still be in the airport finding a hotel to stay.”
“You’re kind, you’re the warmest person I know! I watched how you can befriend Jackson and Jinyoung easily and I thought you were just never interested in a cold awkward guy like me. I tried to accept it, tried to talk to you but you were pushing me away.”
“Sorry Mark, I didn’t mean to push you away.” You wipe a tear that falls from your eye.
“Hey don’t cry. It’s okay now, I’ve heard the truth. You were afraid of hurting your heart and I respect that decision you made. However, before the year ends, I want to tell you.” He pauses and hits the brake when the light is red.
You look into him, he looks into your eyes, “I want to tell you, don’t be afraid, you won’t break your heart. The chance is yours and if you can read my heartbeat now, you’ll panic at how fast it is beating.” He nervously chuckles.
You also nervously giggle, “Did you just openly flirt and tell me you’re giving me a chance to be your special one?”
His shy persona was suddenly changed with his mysterious one million dollars smirk everyone in campus envied, “What I am telling you is, your chance of getting into my heart is more than 99%. You made me wait this long and after knowing this, I’ll say the wait is worth it.”
You shake your head, “I can’t believe this! How can you just confess your feelings to me inside a car, in a red light stop. This is not romantic Mark and you are labelled as the romantic guy!”
He runs a hair over his hair, “Guess I’ll repeat everything in the house later, or tomorrow when I bring you out for brunch.”
You can’t believe the surprises this man has in his soul. This is a totally new side of Mark Tuan. A side no one witnessed before and a side you got to see in private.
“We’re here.” He unbuckles the seatbelt and turns off the engine. He takes out his suitcases and you open up the door for him to enter. You unlock the door and step inside, “This is it, home sweet home.” You inhale the air and turn on the lights and heater. Mark steps inside too and directly loves the way you décor the small room to feel homey.
“Sorry if it’s small, but please treat yourself.” You smile to him.
“Thank you! I already love this place, why didn’t you bring us over? Not even once!” he was totally different from the last time you met.
You were always meeting the cold awkward mysterious side of him, that is why you’re surprised when you finally see his talkative side.
“You’re actually talkative right?” you cross your arms and judge him from head to toe.
Mark shrugs his shoulder as he examines your pictures you put on over your bed.
“Well, how else would I befriend Jackson and Jinyoung if I am quiet. I even live with them, there is no way they accept me if I am boring like whenever we meet.”
Now that explains the curiosity you always had in your head. You always wonder how can three of them share a house?! Turns out Mark was an unopened shell to you and strangers, but to Jackson and Jinyoung he was another joker.
“I guess I’ll see more new side of you as we spend the New Year’s Eve and new year together.” You shrug your shoulder.
Mark walks to your side and pulls you into a warm hug, “I know you’ll be alone this December; fate must have sent me here to protect you from loneliness.”
You punch his shoulder playfully, “Look at you, being a totally different man in one snap.”
He smirks and pulls you closer to his chest, “Did you know how hard was it for me to never pull you away from Jackson when he has you in his arms and always hugging your shoulder? I like you okay since like the first time I spilled coffee, but you seem so comfortable with him that I thought I didn’t have a chance.”
You laugh, “Two idiots thinking they both do not get a chance when in reality we’re madly insane over each other.”
Mark laughs and that is the warmest laugh you ever hear from his lips, “It’s going to be one of my best New Year’s Eve. Thank you for letting me in both to your heart and to your house.”
You close your eyes and inhale the scent of his shoulder, “You’re welcome. Want to go and do the countdown in the big park tomorrow?”
He nods his head, “Can we stay like this for a while? You just fit in my arm perfectly and I miss this warm feeling.”
You nod your head, “Make yourself feel at home Mark,” you close your eyes and sink deeper into his embrace.
You don’t bother how hard your heart is beating right now, you really can die from bursting your heart but who cares when you can finally hug the man you secretly love for a year?
“Hey (y/n)!” Jackson called you one day; you take the call while walking to sit beside Mark. He raises his brow wanting to know who calls you.
“Hey Jackson,” you reply, sitting beside mark as he pulls a blanket over both of you as the TV shows some boring holiday TV shows.
“I’m back in Seoul tomorrow, where do you want me to bring you to? You’ve taken care of Mark and I promised I’d make it up to you right.”
You giggle, “No need Jackson, just be back here safe and come to my house. I have a great story to tell. Oh, and if you can bring Jinyoung, that would be better.”
Jackson was dead curious of the story, but you insist it will be a surprise.
So, when the two men stand Infront of your door the next day, you were more than delighted to welcome them inside and they can’t close their jaw when they see Mark comfortably lounging over your house looking like he just woke up.
“What is this?” Jackson closes the door quickly and drags you to sit on the sofa.
He sits beside you and Jinyoung took the other side next to you.
You chuckle when Mark calmly yells from the pantry, “Easy boys, you’ll hurt my love,”
Jackson and Jinyoung hung their jaw and you can just shrug your shoulder.
“December is the magical time of the year, right?”
see you tomorrow! the year is coming to an end... what will you write in the last page of your book’s chapter?
Christmas masterlist
#12 days of christmas#cosmic 12 days of christmas#mark tuan x you#mark tuan x y/n#mark tuan x reader#mark tuan#mark tuan scenarios#mark tuan fluff#mark tuan fanfic#mark tuan smut#mark tuan imagines#got7 imagines#got7 fanfic#got7 fluff#got7 mark#got7 mark scenarios#got7 mark imagines#got7 jinyoung#got7 jackson
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pre-serum Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes | Let your heart be light
fandom: Marvel Univers
characters: Pre-serum Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes
summary: Where Steve and his mom spend Christmas Eve’s at the Barnes’s, Bucky takes a nap and Steve draws him.
word count: 1.7k
writing a christmas one shot in february isn’t too late, right? i missed 30s steve and buck so of course i had to write some fluff <3
New York City, Christmas 1935
When the two boys slid their shivering frames through the doorway, shaking off the snowflakes caught in their hair and coats as they took the latter off, the first thing to welcome them was the delicious waft of food which had enveloped the entire apartment, the perky jingling of cutlery that emanated from the kitchen accounting for the fact that an active cooking activity was indeed taking place in there. Their cheeks rosy from the piercing cold and their breath short from having spent the afternoon out in the snow, they untied their shoes, leaving them in the corridor, and proceeded to the living room, where the warmth radiating off the crackling fireplace eased the prickling of their skin at once.
“Mom, we’re back!” Bucky announced, heading for the kitchen, Steve in his wake. “How are you? It smells so good in here!”
“We were wondering when you boys would come back and give us a hand,” Mrs Barnes gave them a smile, shaking her head. “It’s all fine. We should always make joined Christmas dinners, it’s a lot less exhausting than doing it yourself for the whole family,” she added gratefully, glancing at Sarah, who nodded in approval.
“Are you okay darling?” The blond woman caringly asked Steve, who reassured her with a light-hearted nod.
“If there’s anything we can do, we’ll be glad to help,” he then assured voluntarily, earning an affectionate look from the two women.
“Actually, I have a feeling you’ll cause more trouble than anything…” One of Bucky’s sisters retorted humorously.
“That may not be wrong…,” the brunet boy conceded sheepishly, eyeing all the culinary supplies suspiciously.
“Maybe you could dress the table, how about that?” Mrs Barnes proposed an alternative. “It’s a little too early now, but we’ll call you when it’s the right time. For the time being, why don’t you go put some records on?”
“Sure!”
“Steve, stay close to the fireplace!” The other boy’s mom called after her son as Bucky and Steve took off, shaking her head fondly as the blond promised that she didn’t have to worry (although he had barely recovered from a cold). “Kids…” Sarah muttered, sharing a knowing glance with Winnifred, who could only chuckle. “But at least they look after one another.”
“Thank God,” the brunette woman laughed, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder whether that causes less or more trouble.”
Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky set to complete the task that they had been asked to undertake. Rummaging through the music collection of the Barnes with great care, Steve selected a record which Bucky then placed upon the turntable, sparking up the soft whirring of the record player while he was cautiously manipulating the needle. A few seconds later, the merry tune of a Christmas song erupted from the device, taking over the far-off clattering and voices coming from the kitchen with smooth notes of jazz that swirled through the room.
“There we go,” a satisfied smile played upon Bucky’s lips, the young man letting himself tumble on the nearby couch with a deep sigh. “I feel like I could take a nap just now…,” he breathed out, lazily stretching out his arms while letting his head fall backwards against the backrest.
“Tired already?” Steve raised a daring eyebrow, teasing his friend with his usual playfulness.
“Shut up,” without even looking, Bucky grabbed a pillow and threw it toward the other boy’s voice, but missed the target. “How the hell do you still have energy?”
“I don’t, I just pretend,” the blond actually confessed, shrugging as he laughed. He never had to play pretend with Bucky, who always accepted him the way he was, no matter whether he caught Steve on a painful day of suffering from sickness, had to come to his rescue in a fight or simply met with him to hang out. Plus, his best friend had seen him in dire straits one too many times to unnecessarily play tough. “Alright, you take a nap, I’ll get my sketchbook.”
“Wake me up if I happen to actually drift off,” Bucky mumbled, momentarily straightening up just so he could cuddle up to the cushion set in the corner where the armrest and the backrest formed an angle. Through half-closed eyelids, he noticed Steve taking a seat on the floor and flick through the pages of his sketchbook, the flames happily waltzing in the chimney behind him sending glimmering beams across the young man’s shirt and skin, their reflection playing in the golden strands of hair that brushed his forehead as he craned his neck, concentrated on his sketch.
Lulled by the gay rhythm of the music and the regular, soft sound of his friend’s pen scraping a piece of paper, Bucky feared that he in truth might just doze off, the both peaceful and jolly atmosphere of the room exacerbating his body’s will to rest. However, there was no way he was going to leave Steve alone on Christmas evening, especially since they spent it together this year, so Bucky fought sleepiness back by trying to keep his mind awake. Just a few minutes, he told himself, I’ll rest for a little bit, then I’ll be ready to celebrate.
Since the early December evening had already dawned, the room would’ve been bathed in darkness if not for the chirping chimney and the bright lights that had been turned on, making it easier for Bucky not to let his thoughts succumb to the strain of his body. He wondered whether his family would like the gifts he got them, but especially if Steve would — since Bucky had more money, he always tried to get his friend a present that he would be particularly fond of for Christmas, and he knew that Steve would also do his best to offer him something nice in return, though with more limited means. But most importantly, Bucky was merely glad and excited to spend the 24th of December surrounded by everyone he loved most, especially since Steve and his mother were joining them around the table this year. In the end, gifts mattered little.
“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?” Running a hand over his face, Bucky groaned while blinking several times, struggling to adjust his clouded sight to the lighting of the living room. It turned out that keeping oneself awake was quite a difficult task, even when one might tell themselves that their lively thoughts would keep their distracted from the lure of slumber. “What time is it?”
“Don’t worry Buck, it’s only been fifteen minutes,” Steve reassured him distractedly, still hunched over his drawing. “It’s nearly seven.”
Pushing himself away from the armrest of the couch, Bucky’s fingers tangled in his hair as he tried to make it sit properly, pushing loose brown strands off his forehead. Only fifteen minutes, that was acceptable. He yawned into the back of his hand, stretching his back, then swung his legs onto the floor and bent forward, trying to get a glimpse of Steve’s doodles — his gaze landed on the outline of a sofa, on which he recognised his own silhouette.
“You know I’m gonna become famous too if you do, right? I’m your number one drawing reference, at this point.” He joked, but the soft glow of his eyes, from either remnants of sleepiness or fondness, made it seem like he was actually both touched and impressed.
“It’s not my fault if you fall asleep on my watch. What do you want me to do? For once, something stays still while I’m sketching, I gotta make most of it.”
It took Steve another few minutes to come to end of his sketch of a sleepy Bucky, fixing the shadows playing in the folds of his friend’s clothes as his pencil adroitly glided across the paper. Bucky, still towering over the blond, kept on watching him draw above Steve’s shoulder, having always been fasciated by the way his friend could so beautifully make images come to life out of nothingness — no matter how much the other boy would get frustrated over a doodle that he struggled with, Bucky knew that it would still be infinitely better than anything most people could come up with. Seeing the curves and edges of his own body forming such meticulous shapes under Steve’s fingertips, the brunet felt like he had caught his own self plunged in a slumber; as if time had turned back to just minutes ago, and he could witness his reflection laying on the couch.
“Alright.” After one last stroke of a pen, Steve held the sketchbook up, analysing the outcome. Bucky could tell that he wasn’t disappointed with the result as the young man put it back down, not getting another hold of his pencil either. “You’re not still sleepy, are you?” He then turned around to give Bucky a quick smile, emerging out of the state of concentration that had taken over him while he was drawing.
“No, I’m not. It’s time for celebration now!” His friend retorted energetically, alluding to the festive Christmas tree that had been set in a corner of the room, the few colourful decorations tangled up in its branches and the golden star at its top gleaming as light ricocheted off them.
With a brief glance at the window, Bucky noticed that the snowfall had grown even stronger, thick and fluffy snowflakes coating the entire street and delicate flowers of frost already starting to spring upon the panes, adorning them with whimsical motives.
“Boys!”
Before Steve and Bucky had time to do anything else, Mrs Barnes’s voice reached them from the kitchen, rising above the music that had continued playing.
“Boys, come and set the table!”
“On it!” Her son shouted back, not a single trouble weighing his heart down as the only think he could focus on was this special night, full of the joy and warmth of sharing it with all the people dearest to him. “Shall we?” He took a look at Steve, unable to suppress a wholesome smile that he just couldn’t contain. And he didn’t want to.
“We shall,” his friend agreed, smiling back. “First to get to the kitchen wins?” and, before Bucky could answer, the blond was off.
“Steve, you have asthma!” was all that Bucky could yell after him, laughing as he trailed behind, however catching up fast.
“But I’m winning!”
A very merry Christmas indeed.
#steve rogers fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel one shot#steve rogers#bucky barnes#preserum steve#preserum steve fanfiction#30s stevebucky#stevebucky#stucky#stevebucky fanfiction#stucky fanfiction#stevebucky fluff#stucky fluff#marvel fluff#mcu fluff#marvel oneshot#mcu oneshot#steve rogers one shot#bucky barnes one shot#writing#christmas
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tracked down a classic
The Waist Lines
Tuesday, 30 December 2014
A Fattening Study
This one's inspired by a real-life actual overeating experiment.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAQr77QMJiw
However, I changed it up so that the participants had to gain way more weight in a longer period of time.
“First of all I want to thank you all for coming. We realize that we are asking for quite a bit of sacrifice on your part, but we want to ensure you that it’s going towards a great study. When I call your name please take your binder. It will contain nutrition guidelines and general information you need to follow for the next nine months.” Said a slender grad student in a lab coat. He’s trying to calm anyone down with cold feet meanwhile the only thing keeping me in this building is the money. “Get paid to eat” that was the subject line of the email my roommate sent me for the application to be apart of this study. Little did I know that it was a study on obesity and that applicants have to agree to gain weight every month in order to get the paycheck. Not only that but I have to be poked and prodded by doctors checking my overall health. But living in the city is expensive and working as a barista paid jack squat. “Thomas?” The grad student called my name. I walked up to the Doctor McDreamy wannabe and received a binder with my name on it. Inside were some general guidelines on nutrition so participants wouldn’t need a coronary bypass, a credit card with our monthly allowance for groceries, and also some rules for the study. For my body type I needed to eat at least 3000 calories a day, just to start off with! I skipped to the back of the binder and was horrified to see by month eight I wouldn’t be allowed to eat less than 9000 calories a day. “I’m going to have to buy maternity clothes.” I muttered under my breath. A man beside me laughed. He must have heard me. I tried not to blush with embarrassment as his name was being called, “Axl?”
“That’s me.” He lightly replied. Axl was slender, as were all the participants for the study. One of the requirements was to be no higher than 11% body fat if you were a man and no higher than 18% body fat if you were a woman. All twenty participants had the same slender frame, including myself. My beer loving roommate Joey wanted to earn some extra cash doing these crazy experiments, but his gut got him rejected from this one, so of course he sends it to me. I looked down at my flat stomach, “I’m going to get a gut like Joey’s aren’t I?” I thought to myself. It sent a shiver down my spine. Axl comes back with his binder, “Hey, I’m Axl. You look nervous.”
“Oh… maybe a little. I really need the money, but I’ve always watched what I’ve ate, y’know?” I replied.
Axl smiled, “It’s alright. The way I see it, even if they kick you out half way that’s still a lot of money. And how hard can it be to shed a few pounds?”
“So what’s your reason for doing this?” I asked.
“I’m a little short for cash too, but also I just broke up with my gym freak of a boyfriend. I need to let go a little. Despite what he thinks my life shouldn’t revolve around my six pack.”
The grad student gave out the last binder to a tiny woman with the narrowest face I have ever seen. “Alright that’s everyone! Thanks so much again. You’ll notice that your monthly allowance for food is probably higher than you expected, but trust me you will go through it quickly. I hope your appetites are good because your nine month journey starts now.” With that, the participants started leaving the building. Some lifted up their shirts, jokingly saying goodbye to their abs. Do people think this is funny? “I think you need to lighten up.” Axl said to me as we leave the building. “It’s going to be a little disturbing, but it’s just getting fat. Is that really a big deal?”
“I guess not.” I replied, unsure of myself.
“Let’s go grocery shopping together, shake off some of the nerves and I’ll give you a ride home.” Sure beats taking the bus, I thought.
“That actually sounds great. Thank you.”
That afternoon Axl and I got our own grocery carts and filled them to the brim with what we had to eat. Our guidelines suggested chicken breasts and coconut milk, but Axl filled his cart with donuts and pastries. I threw in some butter tarts into my cart too, a secret indulgence of mine, but now I was free to eat the entire box. Axl dropped me off in front of my apartment. My arms weighed down by the bags upon bags of high calorie food I needed to eat that week. I squeezed my way through to the front door, my roommate Joey waiting for me. “So how was your first day man?! You look fatter already.”
“I haven’t started yet you knob.” I laughed, “I have to eat all this by next Monday.” Joey took a glimpse upon the mountain of food I was storing away in our kitchen.
“Aw man, I can’t wait to compare beer guts with you!”
I made tortellini that night with the heaviest cream sauce I could find at the grocery store. I had to eat the entire pot to make my quota for that day. As I shoved the last morsel into my mouth I could see Joey staring at me with the utmost delight. He thought this was hilarious. His skinny roommate Thomas was going to get as fat he was. I put my hand over my bloated stomach and tried not to think too much of it.
One week into the experiment and I could feel a difference. I could not remember what it was like to not be bloated. In order to meet my daily calorie intake, I had to gorge myself with a huge breakfast of pancakes and sausage immediately followed by my shifts at the café. Joey all the while laughing everyday at the feasts I have to prepare for myself as he sits on the couch drinking beer. I know for a fact he’s sneaking into my groceries, picking out bacon and pastries for himself. After my shift at work I went down to the grocery store to restock. “Hi there stranger.” It was Axl. “Need to stock up again eh?”
“I do. I didn’t think it was possible, but I ate everything in my cart last week.” I looked up at Axl. His face was fuller. You could even see button down shirt straining on his build. “Wow you’re really taking this seriously, you’ve filled out a little since I last saw you.”
“Ha!” He replied, “Believe me it wasn’t easy. Listen, you don’t have to stock up at the grocery store every week, there’s more than enough money in our allowance to eat out.”
“Is it allowed?”
“Of course silly! Me and a few other participants from the study are getting pizza and beer tonight, you should join us. Getting down those last few bites is a lot easier with help.”
“That sounds amazing, I could really use a break from my roommate.”
That night I met Axl and few of the other participants at a bar downtown. Everyone seemed to have a story about their first week. One guy named Andrew said he ate so much the first day he puked. Another girl named Jessie was doing this to get back at her ex who said she wasn’t curvy enough. It seemed the one thing in common with everyone is that they were enjoying this gluttonous time. The beer felt bottomless and it felt like our group ordered one of everything off the menu. I scarfed down as much pizza as I could, but I was bloated beyond belief from the beer. Axl and Andrew looked at me and then looked at my final slice. They immediately ran over to me. Andrew held my bloated stomach and Axl lifted the pizza off the plate. “C’mon you can do it.” yelled Axl. “We believe in you!” joked Andrew. It might have been the fact I was piss drunk, but I was excited for this help. I slowly but surely swallowed bite by bite of the pizza Axl fed me as the rest of the group cheered on. After the last bite there was a loud “huzzah” from the group and I rest my hands on my stomach. My face was red and sweaty from the endeavor. I just ate an entire large pizza by myself. “Thomas just doubled his quota today everybody!” screamed a drunken Jessie. Another loud “huzzah” came from our group. Double? I thought. If I keep to my quota I should already be gaining quite of bit of weight. I unbuttoned my jeans and looked forward to the next month.
A month goes by and I meet up with the rest of the group at the research building to get our monthly checkup. Joey insisted he come with me to my first weigh in. Axl finally got to meet him today after a month of me ranting about my drunken roommate. I change into skintight boxer-briefs for the weigh in and body fat test. I walk into the room and Joey’s face lights up with a horrible grin. “What?” I ask.
“Dude look at that!” he points to my stomach. It had been protruding more and more over the past month, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I started to pat my newfound gut, shaking it up and down. “As least it’s not as big as yours.” I lifted up Joey’s shirt his furry beer belly flopped down over the waist of his jeans. “You’ve been stealing my food haven’t you? You’ve definitely gotten chubbier too.” Axl then walks in, just finished with his checkup. “Are we comparing bellies?” Axl lifted up the front his shirt revealing a soft paunch. The outlines of a six pack were faded and his pecs were softer too. “I gained 21 pounds this month. Doctor says that’s the highest of all the participants so far.”
“My god!” I exclaimed. “Is that normal?”
“The first month is supposed to be a little extreme. And it looks like you’re not far behind me buddy.” Axl patted the top of my belly and watched it jiggle. The doctor walked and Axl, Joey and I pull down our shirts. “Alright Thomas, first thing I’m going to do is weigh you. You’re friends can stay as long as you don’t mind the company.”
“No way I’m missing this.” Replied Joey. The doctor and I both look at him. “They can stay. I don’t mind.”
I hopped on the scale and I could sense the doctor observing my paunch and my ass for signs of weight distribution. “At the beginning of the experiment you were 160 pounds, today you are… 179. Very interesting.” Joey and Axl burst out laughing. “I’ve gained almost twenty pounds? In a month…” I responded. “Yes.” The doctor replied, “You and another young lad are tied for second for rapid weight gain.”
“Number one being me.” Axl boasted patting his stomach.
“You realize that you will have to increase your daily calorie intake…” The doctor exclaimed as he began to measure my waist, “both of you.” Pointing to me and Axl. “As for you.” Looking at Joey, “You should consider switching to light beer.”
The three of us walked to the lobby to pick up our paychecks. Joey left leaving Axl and I waiting in line with the other participants who had just gotten out of their examinations. “My boobs have gotten so big.” One girl exclaimed. “I can’t even button my slacks.” Said another guy. I picked up my check and I’m immediately bombarded with invites to go out and eat. I couldn’t resist the company of these people and Axl was buying.
For my second examination, I had to schedule the day after everyone else’s due to a work emergency. I didn’t get to see Axl or the rest of the expanding gang. This month I was forced to eat no less than 4000 calories a day. Apparently I had no trouble because I managed to get up to 193 pounds. I had gained over 30 pounds since the experiment started and I wasn’t even halfway done. A portion of this month’s paycheck had to go into buying new clothes. None of my pants could button and the black polo I wore to work was riding up. If I wasn’t wearing an apron people would see the underside of my gut. When it comes to any humiliating aspect of this process, naturally Joey wants to come along. Joey took the doctor’s advice to heart this month. He switched to light beer. He’s just as drunk, but not getting any fatter. Good for Joey… I guess. I squeezed my ass into a pair of 34’s lifting up my paunch in order to get better a view of the button. Joey waited outside the changing room with his devilish smirk, holding my bags of medium to large shirts and enjoying himself a little too much. “Did you say those are 34’s?” asked Joey.
“Yeah.” I replied, “But there a little snug, I think I’ll go up a size, maybe some room to grow.”
“That’s kinda funny.” Joey smirked, “Because 34’s are what I wear buddy. You’re just as big as me!”
“There’s no way.” I replied.
“Wanna bet?” Joey pulled me to the change room mirror. He lifted up his shirt and gestured for me to lift up mine. Low and behold, my gut was almost as big as Joey’s beer belly. His was remarkably more furry, but the size was undeniably close. “You’re still a little bigger.” I exclaimed.
“Yeah maybe, but you’re catching up pretty quick tubby.” He replied patting my gut.
After I got home, I quickly changed into my comfortable size clothes and headed to the grocery store. I found it harder and harder to follow the nutrition plan while still consuming enough calories. I had to resort to donuts and bacon and other super fatty, sugary goods on top of the chicken breasts and potatoes just to make the quota. I pushed my overloaded cart to the checkout aisle when a familiar face walked up to me. “Hey man I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.” Axl was behind me with his cart. He gut protruded a little more, but he didn’t look much bigger. “How was your checkup? Any big changes?” I asked.
“I only gained 11 pounds this month. I had a little bit of a cold. Slowed down my eating. But look at you, you’ve got a proper gut there!”
I could feel myself blushing, “Yeah I know. I had to buy new clothes today.”
“Oh my god. I need to get some new jeans stat.” Axl lifted the front part of his shirt to reveal that his jeans were only done up to the second button. The rest strained to support his belly. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Listen, you should come by my place. I’ll cook dinner and we can catch up.”
I took up on Axl’s offer and went over to his apartment for what I imagine to be a feast of a dinner. The second I walked in the door he threw me a beer. Axl laid out a platter of meat and cheese and told me to dive in while he was cooking the pasta. I stuffed myself with almost every bite of the fettuccini. “I feel like I’m going to burst. I can’t possibly eat anymore.” I exclaimed. Axl, put down his fork finishing off his meal. Axl’s pants had become completely unbuttoned during the meal to make room for his bloated stomach. “C’mon, we’re almost at our quota. Here, let me help you.” Axl hoisted himself out of his seat and waddled towards me. He bent down and unbuttoned my new jeans. “There. Now you have some room.” I felt the zipper sliding down from the pressure of my bloated gut. Axl then grabbed the last forkful of pasta and lifted it up to my mouth. With a great amount of strength I swallowed the last morsel and sighed with relief. Axl and I sat on his couch watching TV burping and letting the meal settle. I headed home around midnight that night. When I got through the front door I turned on the light and to my surprise Joey was sitting on the couch. “Oh hey.” He says with a muffled tone, “I thought you were spending the night at Axl’s.” Joey was shirtless his mouth, chest, and beer gut covered in crumbs and smears of chocolate. “You’re eating my food? Joey, the reason I bought this stuff is because it’s all super high in calories in fat. I need it for my diet.”
“I dunno. It seems like you’re doing pretty well without it.” He responded pointing and my unbuttoned jeans.
“Yes. Axl stuffed me with pasta tonight. Now move over.” I collapsed on the couch beside Joey, my medium black t-shirt riding up over my navel. I took an éclair out of the box and started scarfing it down. “I thought you said you were stuffed?” asked Joey. “I said I was stuffed… about an hour ago. I’m hungry all the time now.” Joey looked at his gut and than looked at mine. For the first time since the experiment started, Joey’s smirk faded away. “Dang dude. You’re… you’re going to get fat.”
“I know.” I swallowed the last bite of the éclair and immediately grabbed another from the box, “believe me dude I know.”
Third month’s examination was more intense than the first two. Blood tests and fitness tests were included. I had to wear track shorts and an under armor shirt I hadn’t worn since the experiment began. I wheezed running on the treadmill as the doctor waited eagerly to check my vitals. He could not stop staring at my belly, which hung on my waist, the underside exposed by the tight shirt. After being poked and prodded I was given a towel and was told I could wait in the lobby for my paycheck. Joey was waiting outside wearing the same sweatpants for the past week. A lot of his pants barely close ever since I started letting him eat from my groceries. He handed me a hoodie to cover up my protruding belly, but it gets swiped away from Axl who just got out of his physical. “Hold on there buddy don’t cover up just yet, I haven’t got a chance to look at you yet!” Axl pushed my shirt up towards my softening pecs to expose my gut fully. He cupped the bottom and started chuckling. “Great process buddy! Where are you at now?”
“I broke 200. Doc says I’m overweight now.” I replied.
“Ha! I broke 200 last month, but good for you it means you’re still qualified for the money! A couple girls and one guy dropped out. Couldn’t handle embracing the lack of vanity I guess.” All the participants were getting just as fat as I was. Girls’ breasts and hips were bulging out of their sides, stomachs protruding out of their shirts, while the guys’ paunches were turning into solid beer guts. “Just gotta keep thinking about that paycheck I guess.” I exclaimed.
“Yeah the money’s great, but I’m loving this.” Axl lifted his sweatshirt to reveal his belly, pushing it out to emphasize its roundness. It hung over his the waistband of his tight sweatpants. This month I spent a lot of time with Axl. I would go over to his place for meals or he would come visit mine. We go out to eat with the other participants or sometimes just with each other. No matter what, however, Axl would always end up feeding me after I felt like I was going to pop. I never had to do the same for him. Axl had a ferocious appetite and it was rubbing off on me.
Two months later into the experiment and even though I had to buy bigger clothes again, I was really enjoying my time with Axl. My weight gain had steadied putting me at around 215 pounds at my last examination. Axl who was a couple inches taller than me weighed in at 234 pounds. No matter how many times we compared guts his was always bigger. It felt like I was never going to catch up. Joey and I got to the examination early. It was evident that we both had gotten noticeably bigger as we squeezed through the turnstile doors. I changed into my boxer briefs and waited for the doctor to arrive. I sat in the chair and let my belly sit on my lap. Joey sat across from me, eyes glaring. “See something you like?” I asked.
“Dude, you’re really fat now. Like… it’s not even the gut anymore. Your face is rounder and by God your thighs are getting enormous. I think you’re bigger than me now.”
“Joey, I let you eat my food. You must have gained 20 pounds since I started.” I got up and felt my gut shake. I pointed to my protruding belly. “This is a desperate attempt to get some cash. This however…” I lifted up Joey’s shirt. “This is from being a total pig.”
“Vent all you want dude.” Joey replied pulling his shirt down over his furry beer gut, “That’s not going to change the fact that we are the same height, but I weigh only 215 pounds when you clearly weight more than that.” The doctor walked in with his morning coffee. “Hello Thomas. You’re making quite some progress. It’s not a race you know.” I looked down and my swollen pudge hanging over the waistband of my boxerbriefs and laughed uncomfortably. Joey smirked as I got on the scale. “229 pounds.” Said the doctor. “Told ya you were bigger than me.” Joey exclaimed. I had gained almost 70 pounds since this experiment had started. I changed into my sweat pants and a large hoodie and was about to leave when Axl popped his head into the doctor’s office door, “Hey! Sorry are you done, I was little late to my physical today.” I smiled and nodded as I let Axl into the room.
“You can stay if you like.” Axl said as he started stripping into his underwear. “I’m not shy.” Axl stood in the doctor’s office with nothing but skin-tight boxer briefs. He must’ve had them when the experiment started because they barely covered his ass.. The doctor gestured him to hop on the scale. “230 pounds.” Everyone’s expression dropped. “I lost weight?” Axl asked.
“It appears so.” The Doctor replied, “Have you been consuming enough calories?”
“And then some.” Axl responded, “Just ask Thomas.”
“Believe me he’s been eating just as much as me.” I replied.
“This happens a lot, especially with young men. Your metabolism has kicked into overdrive and it makes it harder to put on weight. Unfortunately, this is an overeating and obesity experiment and it requires all participants to gain a steady amount of weight for nine months. If you plateau we’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“C’mon doc!” I exclaimed. “Look at him. Feel the size of his gut, look how big his ass has gotten and his second chin is coming in. He’s gained a ton of weight and now you’re kicking him out ‘cause he had bad month?”
“Axl has been on our watch for the most rapid body fat percentage increase… If he gains weight this month… we can keep him in the experiment.” Axl and I sighed with relief. There’s no way I could continue on without my encourager. “Thanks buddy.” said Axl as he put his jeans and t-shirt on. “Don’t mention it. And don’t worry we’re going to help each other. I going to get you busting out of those jeans before this month is over.” That night Axl came over to my apartment. We ordered a mountain of thai food and then I stuffed him full of donuts that I swiped out of Joey’s hands. There was one more donut left. “Thanks Thomas, but I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”
I bent down and unbuttoned Axl’s jeans and watched the force of his swollen gut push down the fly. “There. Now you have more room.” We both smiled as I lifted the last donut to his mouth. That night Joey, Axl and I passed out on my futon.
A month of almost daily encouragement later, I took Axl out for a large, heavy breakfast before our weigh in, just to be safe. The diner beside the research building had great pancakes and waffles. We ate like pigs, but I made a special effort to stuff Axl. The button on his jeans haven’t been able to close for the past week, as I had promised. As we were about to leave we bumped into Andrew and Jessie, “Hey guys! We haven’t seen you in a while. You got… big” They said as they were getting up from their table. They both had gotten noticeably fatter, Jessie with her wide hips and double chin and Andrew with his ball belly, but it was true, no one could compare to Axl and I. We walked into the research building together. Joey was waiting on bench outside the doctor’s office. “Where were you guys? I’ve been waiting.”
“Sorry Joey, we got breakfast for one final stuffing session.” I replied.
“And you didn’t invite me?” He asked.
“I don’t think you need any more big breakfasts pal.” I poked Joey’s beer belly that was pushing out of his extra large plaid shirt. “You’re not even getting paid.” Joey sucked in his gut the best he could and tried to adjust his shirt out of embarrassment. Andrew, Jessie, Axl, and I decided we would do our weigh ins together this time. Even Joey wanted in on the action. We walked into the doctor’s office and stripped. A big “woof” came from everyone when I took of my shirt. I did a quick truffle shuffle, my newest and now most common party trick. The doctor walked in slightly shocked by the small group of half naked fat people in his office. Axl was the first to get up on the scale. Everyone gave his gut a slap for good luck. “248 pounds.” Said the doctor. Axl cheered and immediately gave me a hug. I our bellies pressed together and I could feel my breakfast coming up so I pushed him aside so we could get to my turn. “251 pounds.” Said the doctor. For the first time in six months I was heavier than Axl..Joey walked over to me like a proud father. “Look at that monster! I remember when this one freaked out when we had the same size jeans. Now look.” He shoved his gut up against mine. Mine was definitely larger and I got love handles and a bigger ass to boot. After everyone was done getting examined – Joey weighed in at 230 pounds – I changed into my jeans. They were a stretched out size 38. I squeezed the button close and let my belly flop over the waist. I looked at myself in the mirror. I grabbed my gut and shook it up and down. I was able to lift the entire thing with my hands. I turned to look at my love handles that had become more prominent as well as my beefier thighs and ass. Axl stepped beside me and started to do similar things. “Yep, They’re real.” He joked. He gave my gut a good slap and left the doctor’s office. I put my sweater on and looked at myself in the mirror again. When I pictured myself fat and I imagined something more horrifying than what I saw in front of me. I thought it was going to be gross, but I liked my larger frame. I like how soft my man boobs felt, I liked the way my gut protruded out of everything I owned. I walked into the lobby letting my gut relax, showing off what I had accomplished in the past 6 months. I was surprised to see a mountain of pizza boxes. The researchers decided to give us a little extra thanks this month. For the next two hours I watched 15 overfed, overstuffed participants pig out on pizza. I was forced to unbutton my jeans and have everyone come up to me asking if they could feel my gut.
The final three months of the experiment were not easy. Axl and I had to eat up to 10,000 calories a day. Luckily we had each other to help. Joey grew out a scraggly beard, went back to regular beer and took up the same eating habits I had. He was constantly trying to best Axl in eating contests, but would always lose. The pigging out really impacted is waistline. Joey was fatter than ever and he didn’t even get paid for it. For the final examination the participants were encouraged to wear the clothes they wore on the first day. I waddled into the building jeans unbuttoned and below my ass. The shirt I wore on my first day barely covered my navel and would roll up underneath my supple man boobs. Joey was behind me wearing track pants and a t-shirt that barely covered his huge, furry gut. “Let me take a look you… one last time.” He told me.
“I’m not going to be able to lose the weight over night Joey. You’re going to be seeing this for quite a while.” Joey grabbed my gut and started rubbing it.
“I know dude, but I just feels like yesterday that this monster was just a little guy and now look at it!”
I lifted Joey’s shirt. “Yours isn’t bad either pal.” Joey looked down and started lifting his beer belly up and down, feeling the weight. Axl then walked in wearing the same jeans that were not completely unbuttoned and rided below his ass. He also wore a button down shirt that only buttoned in the middle exposing his massive gut. All the participants wore similar things, exposing all the places they gained weight. It was clear everyone was obese as the experiment entailed. Axl came up to me, gave me a kiss, and immediately started lifting my gut up and down. “You’re looking good Thomas. Still nervous?”
“Nah. You look good too buddy.”
“Hey lover boys!” yelled Joey from the doctor’s office. “Research guy is waiting for ya.” I hopped on the scale. While I waited for the numbers to adjust I noticed the grad student who handed me my binder on the first day was weighing me. His face was fuller though and he had a small gut protruding out of his button down shirt. “Gained a little weight too eh?” I asked jokingly.
“Yeah, a little. You folks have been rubbing off on me.” The numbers finally stopped.
“Thomas your final weight is, 304 pounds.”
“I broke 300?!”
“First one today. You proud of yourself?” The grad student asked.
I smiled and hopped off the scale. After some more tests I found out I had tripled my body fat percentage as well. I looked at myself in the mirror as I pulled up my impossibly tight jeans. I had become a genuine fat ass. It was Axl’s turn to get on the scale.”Axl your final weight is 315 pounds.”
“I put on 150 pounds?”
“Yep. Heaviest so far.” Exclaimed the grad student.
Axl started to chuckle, his belly shaking simultaneously. Afterwards everyone moved into the lobby for a few photos. Everyone was laughing and comparing bellies. The grad student got up and started to make a speech. “I want to thank everyone here again. I’m so glad you were able to treat this entire process with a great sense of humor. And to show my support I will confess that I’ve gained 20 pounds as well.” The grad student lifted his shirt to show off his paunch and the entire group cheered. He pulled down his shirt and continued to speak. “I also have some good news for anyone who is interested. I know some of you are eager to hit the gym and to shed these extra pounds, but the lab is offering an extended research participant contract to anyone in this study who is obese, which luckily is all of you.” Everyone looked at each other puzzled. “You would continue to get paid and all you would have to do is maintain or gain weight for the next year. Any takers?” Axl’s hand shot straight up. Mine quickly followed.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
December 12 - Part 4
Guys this part is ridiculously long and I am so sorry. I never meant to drag this out for this long and I just wanted to get it done. It’s important to the plot but I will be glad to get back to soft fluff. Anyway, hope you can enjoy this long ass read!
The spirits must have been on their side that day, for the impact of the Slime didn’t kill them outright. There was time to cut them free, and then he could hopefully use a warp totem to get them all out before the mine came crashing down upon their heads.
‘Just stay calm. You’ve trained with Marlon, you can do this.’
He held his sword aloft before him, then dashed in and cleaved the slime in two. Thus divided, it split into two smaller but still large slimes—Sam and Abigail were trapped in one, Sebastian in the other.
From the split also came several much smaller blobs, which eagerly latched onto Ashe’s legs in their fervent attempts to hug him. The more he cut the big one, the more smaller ones popped out and clung to him. In seconds, he had dozens of them weighing down his limbs; he couldn’t even move.
“No, please—let go!” He was begging, desperate, and he didn’t care. “Please!!!”
His friends were just one cut away from freedom, and they were just out of his reach. The quaking was unbelievable, and with the weight of the little slimes on his body he lost his balance and fell to his hands and knees.
And then came forth dozens of monsters from deeper within the mine; it was seconds that felt like minutes later that he was deafened by the sound of the ceiling and walls collapsing from where the monsters had fled.
A piece of the rocky walls dislodged and struck him on the back, knocking him flat down to the earth and pinning him there. The wind was knocked from his lungs, and his sword tumbled from his grip.
‘Is this it?’
It was impossible to get his breath back. The rock on his back crushed his chest more each time he tried. The larger slimes carrying his friends danced in a panic just out of his reach as more chunks of the walls and ceiling came crashing down around them.
‘I really just got us all killed by slimes... It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have ever brought them here with me.’ His head drooped, his cheek resting against the uncomfortably warm earth. For a brief moment, he could smell the forest. ‘I’m sorry guys… I’m sorry Shane... I'm sorry Mom… and Grandpa… Am I… gonna be reincarnated as a slime…?’
####
The world had gone dark, but now was swimming back into view. A clinical white ceiling greeted Ashe as he forced his heavy eyes open; his eyelids felt bruised. Actually, his entire body felt like it was just one massive bruise.
‘I’m… at the clinic?’
Gingerly, he sat up and looked around. The other beds in the recovery room bore Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail—all breathing. All alive. He sighed, relieved.
“…and that’s how I found them. Just like that.”
He heard Marlon speaking beyond the curtain dividers, and could faintly make out his silhouette along with Maru’s through them. They both spoke in hushed voices; Marlon was as composed and calm as ever, while Maru seemed to be borderline panicking.
“Thank Yoba that you did!” She wrung her hands anxiously. “Of course this happens on the one day Harvey’s not here.”
“Strange, that. He’s not one to leave town.”
“I know. But there’s a seminar being held in Zuzu City that he said he couldn’t miss.” The wringing intensified. “This is a worst-case scenario.”
“Were their injuries that severe?”
“No, somehow—bumps, cuts, scrapes, bruises, and Sebastian managed to break his foot. But I’m not—I’m only an assistant. I’m not qualified to administer any aid without Harvey present.”
“A bit late to worry about that now. Besides, you seemed to know what you were doing to me.”
“I mean—I have a basic understanding of first aid, but like I said, I’m not allowed to perform it without Harvey being here.”
Ashe’s shoulders slumped as he looked down at his lap. He’d gotten so many people involved in this mess. Gotten his friends hurt, and almost killed. Put Maru at risk of losing her job.
The curtains abruptly were tugged open, and he jumped a little.
“Oh—you’re awake!” Maru sounded relieved, though still anxious. “Thank Yoba. How do you feel?”
“Uh—f-fine,” he fibbed with a meek smile, “just fine.”
He looked to Marlon, and the smile faded. The old swordsman’s face was as stoic as it ever was, but he could see the disappointment in his eyes.
“Never thought you’d lose to a slime, of all things. I suppose there’s a first time for everything, though.”
Ouch. That stung.
Across from his bed, Sebastian began to stir, and Maru quickly rushed to her half-brother’s side. “Sebastian…?”
“Ugh…” He groaned and lightly pushed her face away. “Give me a little space, would you?”
“Oh, Sebastian!”
Without warning she flung her arms around him in a tight hug. “I was so scared! I thought you were going to die!”
“Fuck’s sake—why does everyone try to choke me—” He tried in vain to pry her off of him. “Why the hell do you care, anyway?”
“What do you mean, why do I care?!” She pulled back, an angry expression on her tearful face. “You’re my big brother, of course I’m going to care about what happens to you!”
A flicker of guilt flashed across Sebastian’s face, and he looked away. “… Half brother.”
“Oh my Y—like that matters! Geez! You could at least apologize for scaring me and mom half to death!”
“I didn’t ask you to worry ab—” He stopped mid sentence. “You told mom?”
“Well, yeah!” She curled into herself a bit. “I kinda panicked and… maybe called Jodi too. And Caroline.”
“Yoba damnit,” he rubbed his forehead, “it’s not Mom’s business what I do. It’s not any of our mom’s business.”
Maru poked her fingers together. “I know. Look, I’m sorry, but I just—panicked, like I said. Harvey’s not here, and I didn’t know what to do. Besides, they were going to find out eventually, and they’d be even more upset then.”
“Shit, our moms are gonna finish the job for the slimes.” Sam had been awake for a minute at that point, just lying there listening to things play out as he came to.
Same for Abigail, who pushed herself to sit. “Well, fat lot of good putting fake names in the logbook did,” she said in a deadpan voice. “It’s been nice knowing you guys. Any second now they’re going to come bursting in through the door.”
“Er, actually… they’re in the waiting room.”
“Great.” She looked to Sebastian and Sam. “Might as well get it over with.”
Looking somewhat apologetic, Maru stepped out to fetch their mothers. There was a heavy air hanging in the room. It was awful.
“… How did you know we were in trouble?” Ashe asked of Marlon, who was still standing off to the side.
“Rasmodius reached out to me. Apparently the Junimos asked him to help you, and he in turn asked me.”
To say it was surprising was an understatement. Ashe didn’t think that the little spirits cared all that much for him, especially not since he hadn’t done much to fulfill their requests yet—
Once again the curtains were yanked abruptly open. There stood Robin, and Jodi, and Caroline, all wearing the look of mother bears on the rampage in search of their cubs. Terrifying didn’t even begin to describe the aura radiating from them.
“What were you thinking—”
“You nearly got yourselves killed—”
“How many times have I told you how dangerous those mines are—”
Their voices all overlapped in their attempts to admonish their children. There was no doubt that they were relieved to see them alive and well—the fact that they were so incensed was proof of that.
The heavy ball of guilt weighing down Ashe’s stomach compelled him to speak above them. “It’s not their fault.” In that instant, all their heads snapped to look at him instead of their children, and memories of such reprimands by his own mother flashed in his minds’ eye. “It’s mine,” he continued, somehow managing to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “I’m the one who brought them into the mines with me.”
“Wh—it is not your fault, Ashe,” Sam insisted emphatically.
Sebastian nodded. “We’re the ones who asked to come along.”
“And I’m the one who got us into that situation,” added Abigail. “You told us that it was dangerous.”
There was a long moment of silence—awkward, heavy, painful silence. It was broken by the sound of Harvey all but skidding into the recovery room, looking mightily disheveled and thoroughly winded.
“Dr. Harvey!” Maru was relieved, and quickly sought shelter behind him.
“Ladies—” Hastily he attempted to straighten his lopsided tie and glasses, “I understand that you are concerned for their wellbeing, but I cannot allow you to stress my patients out. Much less before I’ve been able to examine them myself.”
“How can you expect us to be calm about all of this?” Robin gestured angrily towards her son, who was lying there with a look that begged to be put out of his misery. “We’ve told them countless times how dangerous those mines are, and they still went in!”
Harvey chose his words carefully. “With all due respect… they may be your children, but they are no longer children. At some point, you have to allow them to make their own decisions. Even if they still live under your roof. If you don’t, then they will be pressured into doing things like this behind your back.” He cleared his throat. “Now, please. I need to be able to examine them myself. Maru, could you bring them back to the waiting room?”
His tone left no room for arguments, and they reluctantly followed Maru out of the recovery area and back to reception. The four in the beds were stunned.
“Uh… Thanks for sticking up for us like that,” Sam said as the doctor pulled his wheely stool over to Sebastian’s bed.
“Hm? Oh, there’s no need to thank me for that. I only did what I felt was in your best interests as my patients.” With a faint smile curling up the ends of his mustache Harvey started to examine Sebastian. “I only got a little bit of the story over the phone with Maru—what exactly happened?”
Ashe swallowed guiltily, and began to recount the misadventure to him before the others could. Harvey just listened and nodded his head, moving from examining Sebastian to setting his broken foot in a cast. For a mercy, it was a brief summary. “… and Marlon brought us here,” he finished in a soft voice, picking at the thin white blanket covering his legs. “That’s pretty much it.”
“Well,” Harvey scooted over to Sam, “we can thank Yoba that things weren’t any worse. They could very well have been.”
Ashe cast his eyes back down to his lap. “I’m sorry…”
“I didn’t say it to guilt you.” He smiled again. “Rather the opposite; there’s no need to dwell on what might have been. You’re all alive and safe now, and that’s what matters. That being said,” he swiveled around to Abigail’s bed, “it might be a good idea to stay out of the mines for the time being.”
“That won’t be an issue.” Marlon finally spoke again. “There was a massive collapse in the lower levels. Joja will want to close the mines to the public indefinitely.”
“Well there we go then.”
After a minute, it was Ashe’s turn, and he sullenly allowed Harvey to give him a thorough once-over. All he’d wanted was to fix up the community center; he didn’t want to put anyone in danger.
‘But that’s not really true. What I really wanted was something to distract myself from thinking.’ The community center was just a means to an end, an excuse. And maybe, just maybe… maybe he’d hoped something like this would have happened. Maybe he’d really hoped that one of these times he wouldn’t end up coming out of the mines.
As soon as that thought came into his mind, he physically shook it away, earning himself quite a look from Harvey. ‘That’s not true! Not even a little! I’m only thinking like this because I feel so guilty.’ He looked down at his hands resting on his lap. Abby had been right; he couldn’t keep carrying on like this. It was tearing him apart.
After a few more minutes, Harvey was satisfied that Sebastian’s broken foot was the most severe injury among the four. He still needed to set the man up with a pair of crutches and show him how to use them, but was content to let the rest filter out of the recovery area and towards reception.
“Ugh, I’m not looking forward to getting home…” Sam’s voice dripped with dread. “Even if Mom listens to what Harvey said, it’s still gonna be awkward as hell. She’s probably gonna want me to pay for my bill.”
Abigail’s face fell at the thought. “Ugh, tell me about it. And we didn’t even get to bring back anything from the mines so we don’t have anything we can sell.”
Well, there was something that Ashe could do to start repairing the damage he’d caused. With the both of them lulling behind him, he pushed the swinging doors to reception open.
The mothers’ heads popped up at the sound, and the conversation they’d been having ceased at once. There was a sort of muted look on each of their faces, and Caroline and Jodi rose to give their kids what was a much-needed hug.
“Harvey’s helping Sebastian with crutches,” Ashe said to Robin, who had gone a bit pale when she saw that her son was not among them. “And, um… I’d like to pay for everyone’s medical bills.”
Surprise flickered across the faces of everyone in the room. He could see that Sam and Abby were opening their mouths to protest his offer, and so he hastily added, “It’s the least I can do.”
“Honey, the thought is appreciated,” Caroline put her hand on his shoulder, “but the bills are already taken care of. Just please, be more careful next time.” She turned to her daughter. “Let’s go, Abigail. We have a lot we need to talk about…”
One by one Ashe watched his friends file out of the clinic with their mothers. He did his best to put on a smile and wave them off; after all, they were able to leave on their own two feet (well, Sebastian on one). That was worth smiling about, wasn’t it?
“Are you gonna be okay?” Maru asked as he turned to pay for his own bill. “To walk home, I mean.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, still managing to smile, “I’ll be fine—”
No sooner had the door swung closed behind Jodi did it swing back open. “Ashe?” panted Shane, his face red from exertion and the cold of the evening air. He was still in his Joja uniform, which was disheveled from his haste to get to the clinic from the mart.
“Shane?” Ashe’s eyes widened in surprise as he turned to face him. They only widened further as the man strode forward and folded him into a gentle hug.
“Thank fuck…” he whispered in between breaths. He was shaking. “Maru made it sound like you were on your deathbed.”
“Oh, er—” Behind the counter, Maru fidgeted guiltily. “Sorry.”
A new lump formed in Ashe’s throat, taking the place of his voice so he couldn’t speak. It hit him in that moment just how differently things could have turned out, and how happy he was to see Shane again.
“I-I…” His chin quivered, and tears began to well up in his eyes as he brought his arms up to squeeze Shane back. “I-I’m sorry…!”
####
It was a slow walk back to the farm. Shane insisted on it, wanting Ashe to take it easy despite his insistence that he was just a little sore.
“Easy, easy does it,” the older man coaxed, helping Ashe up the front stairs—it was at that point that the pain really was catching up to him, and it showed. “I’ve got you.”
“Th-thanks…”
The stairs cleared, Shane held the door open for him. It was pleasantly warm inside the farmhouse, a welcome change from the bitter cold. Mr. Blue jumped over the back of the couch to greet them as they stepped inside, wending his way through both of their legs with audible purrs.
“I think he was worried about you.” Shane carefully nudged the orange cat out from around their feet so they could make it over to the couch. “Where do you keep your medicine and shit?”
With a wince Ashe let himself be lowered onto the cushions, the pain easing up just a touch when he did. “Uh… in the kitchen. Top left drawer next to the sink.”
“Okay. Sit tight.”
Ashe watched him root around in the drawer. “What are you looking for?”
“What do you think, dweeb? I’m looking for pain killers.” Shane looked at him. “You’re hurting pretty good, and don’t even try to deny it.” His fingers closed around what he was looking for, and he brought two small tablets back to Ashe along with a glass of water. “Here.”
“Oh, uh—thank you…” Ashe popped them into his mouth and took a sip of the water to help them down. “… I, um… I’m sorry.” He mumbled into the glass.
“You already said that, you know. Three times. On the way here.” Shane sighed and shook his head. “Seriously, what am I gonna do with you?”
“… I don’t know.” Setting the glass on the end table to his left, Ashe tugged his knees up against his chest and buried his face into them.
After a moment, Shane took the cushion next to him. “Ashe, what’s really going on here?” He asked. “There’s obviously something bothering you and making you not act like yourself.”
Silence. Then, “I miss her…”
“Your mom?” He wrapped an arm around Ashe’s shoulders as the farmer gave a tiny nod of his head. “I had a feeling. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I-I do, b-but… I-I’m scared that it’s gonna mess up your recovery somehow…”
“Bud, that’s not—those two things have nothing to do with each other. Seriously. And even if they did,” he gave a gentle squeeze, mindful of Ashe’s soreness, “I’m in a place now where I can handle it. And that’s got a lot to do with you. I’m not gonna force you to talk about it if you really don’t want to, but I’m here for you. You can lean on me for this.”
More silence. “I don’t remember what that’s like…” He sniffled, trying his hardest not to start bawling again. “I-I was taking care of Mom for so long that I forgot how to rely on others.”
“She was sick, right?”
“Y-Yeah. Cancer. I ended up taking her place at Joja so she could stay on their insurance.” There was another pause as he drew a deep shuddering breath. “I-I didn’t even get to attend her funeral. My b-boss wouldn’t give me the day off for it. It was the worst way to start the year.”
“Wait, this happened on New Years? This year?”
Ashe nodded again. “I-I didn’t really… y’know, have a chance to process any of it. Work, work work. And then I remembered Grandpa’s envelope, and… I came here. It was nice, having so much to do and people to distract me from… everything. But I can’t ignore winter no matter how hard I try…”
His voice broke, and the tears that he’d been trying so hard to hold back burst forth. “I-It’s not fair! She was all I had! I was all she had! A-And I was working so much that I couldn’t even be there for her most of the time! I had to watch her waste away from a distance! And now Joja wants to take even more way from me! It’s not fair! It’s not fair!!!!”
The room became filled with his anguished sobs, and Shane gently pulled him into another hug. “It’s not, you’re right. It never is.”
For what felt like forever, Ashe cried. He cried out the feelings that he’d kept pent up over the year. And when he had no more tears left to shed, he rested against Shane, completely spent.
“Did that help at all?” Shane’s voice was low and soothing as he brushed the bangs from Ashe’s face.
“… I don’t know…”
“That’s fine. It takes time.” He held him close. “Look, if you feel like you need to cry, come and cry on me. Okay? Doesn’t matter when or where it is.”
It took a moment, but Ashe nodded. He wondered if this was what Shane felt like when he was looking out at those cliffs on that rainy day…
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv fanfiction#stardew valley fanfiction#stardew fanfiction#sdv fanfic#stardew valley fanfic#stardew fanfic#sdv fic#stardew valley fic#stardew fic#sdv shane#stardew valley shane#stardew shane#sdv farmer#stardew valley farmer#stardew farmer#tw mourning#tw grief#remind me never to write a day this long again
10 notes
·
View notes
Photo
December 1st December 2nd December 3rd December 4th
December 5th December 6th December 7th December 8th
December 9th
The streets were busy so it was fairly easy for Graham to follow Donna and the youngest Doctor without being noticed. He managed to get close enough to be able to make out their conversation. Graham had to admit, he was more curious about learning about the Doctor's past, than he was about figuring out what had brought them all here. It wasn’t exactly like they were in any immediate danger.
“So where do you want to start?“ Donna asked, watching the Doctor scanning their surroundings with his sonic.
“Can’t even get any useful readings.“ He huffed, giving his sonic a shake.
“Maybe it’s broken, why don’t you check with your wife if she has a spare.“ Donna smirked, finding great amusement in the whole situation. The Doctor glared at her. “What? It’s not every day you find out your best mate is married.“
“I mean, I knew she would be something to me one day but who could have guessed that?“ He retorted coming to a halt while fumbling with his screwdriver.
“Me and everyone else in that Library.“ Donna had to point out, it had been painfully obvious to everyone there that there was chemistry between them.
“Shut up.“ The Doctor groaned.
“The way you were bickering, those stolen glances and the whispers…“ Donna had a great time with this as she recalled how they had acted around each other. She had never seen the Doctor as off balance with anyone as he had been with River. Having seen her interact with the Doctor’s older selves who appeared well and truly in love with her, it all made a lot more sense now.
“Wasn’t the way they’re looking at her though.“ The Doctor mumbled as he stopped rewiring the screwdriver’s circuits. He didn’t look at Donna, he hated being vulnerable in front of people, but she was his best friend and he had to air his worries.
“Well, that’s the way you will be looking at her.“ Donna retorted more softly, realising how uncomfortable he felt about the whole thing.
“When we met her at the Library… it was so strange, she knew my name, Donna, she knew everything about me.“ He sighed looking at her now, needing to have this conversation. To his relief, there was no teasing or amusement on Donna’s part, just understanding and compassion for her best friend.
“She’s your wife, she should know those things. And she’s from your future. This is a good thing, other people would give their right arm to know they have a soul mate out there. I get that knowledge is unsettling but you’ll get there. You’ve had a sneak peek.“ She pointed out with a kind smile, then changed back to her usual loud mouthed self: “I don’t know what you’re whinging about, she’s a catch, more than you deserve.“ The Doctor couldn’t help but laugh, shaking off the gloom.
“She’s quite hot isn’t she.“ He smirked.
“I’m not the person to have that conversation with!“ Donna shut him down immediately. “You can talk to her other husbands about that. I bet they’ll be able to give you some spoilers!“
“Uhm…“ The Doctor didn’t know what to respond to that or how he felt about that idea.
“I bet they know her a lot better in so many ways…“ Donna smirked, never passing up an opportunity of winding him up. “You can stop feeling guilty now, she’s alive.“ She pointed out on a more serious note.
“Yeah she is…“ He mused, weighing her words. “After all this time… I got her out, I got it right.“ He thought back to saving her mind to the Library. How victorious he had felt and how content he had been with the solution. He had never even considered what it had meant for him. How terrible a situation it had been, for River in particular. And how lacking his great safe had really been. “At the time I saved her but I didn’t think twice about it, not until now. I never even said goodbye…“ Only upon seeing his future selves, seeing them with River, had he started really contemplating how River must have felt to see him. When he hadn’t recognised her. He had seen the flash of sorrow in her eyes when she had realised he didn’t know her. But he hadn’t really thought about it. Hadn’t considered the full weight of it until now. “She died, Donna, my wife died in front of me, and I couldn’t even tell her I loved her.“
“You didn’t know at the time.“ Donna reached out and took his hand. She had rarely seen him so vulnerable.
“But I did know, I knew it deep down, who she was, who she would become…“ He admitted, struggling with his conscience.
“I think you will make up for that a few times over, don’t you?“ Donna gave his hand a squeeze.
“Yes… for me, yes, I had all that to come, but for her… I was the last face she saw until now.“ He took a deep breath. “Can’t blame her for turning the other way…“
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, I’m sure she loves you just as much as the others…“ She chuckled and he gave a sigh, accepting that there was no point in beating himself up over it now. “I mean you are the same person so she must do… God, this is complicated, can we get going? My feet are freezing and you insisted we find out what’s going on with this place.“ Donna went on, sensing he was getting himself together. “If this keeps bothering you so much, why don’t you talk to her? Tell her that you understand now. Might make you feel better.“ She offered.
“I’ll end up forgetting about it.“ The Doctor huffed.
“She won’t though and that’s what matters.“ Donna pointed out.
“I don’t like it when you’re right.“ He grumbled.
“I’m always right.“ Donna smirked.
“No you’re not.“ The Doctor gave her shoulder a playful shove. She looped her arm into his and they carried on on their way surveying their surroundings. “Now why is this thing not working right? Almost like something is interfering with it…“ He mused scanning with his sonic again.
Graham remained rooted to the spot for a moment, working through what he had heard. His heart sank for his friend. What a terrible thing to live with. The knowledge of how someone would eventually die while you kept meeting and falling in love with them... It was no wonder the Doctor never spoke of River Song. He imagined it was too painful for her. It was also no wonder she didn't jump at the opportunity to jump at her. Having lived with such pain for so long probably made it hard to trust this slither of hope, this dream come true…
#Doctor Who#advent calendar#River x ten#yowzah#space wives#river song#tenth doctor#donna noble#fanfiction#christmas#christmas special#home for chirstmas#thirteenth doctor#fluff
10 notes
·
View notes
Photo
* 𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 / priya daly
location: laura sutton’s office
timeline: december 12th –– all day
triggers: n/a
PREMISE: Priya Daly receives instructions to steal back an old belonging of the Black Dahlia’s. The only catch is it currently lives in President Sutton’s office.
So, this kind of feels like a load of bullshit. For almost three months, Priya has been waiting to hear back from the Dahlias, wondering just how intense this whole sisterhood was going to be. She’s been anticipating the next step after feeling this big suspense from that very first meeting. Maybe they’d have her try to solve a mystery, or break herself out of some escape room. The note that finds her in the middle of December isn’t what she’s expecting at all.
The note explains she has to find some weird old spell book from the Dahlias’ older days, though technically not spells, the book just contains information on herbs and poisons.
To secure your place in the group, retrieve the book in the next 24 hours, and secure The Dahlia’s handed down knowledge.
Are they really witches? is Priya’s first thought, and then quickly her brain realizes that if in 1998, the book was confiscated by the school’s then-current president, then the only place it should be now is Laura Sutton’s office, which is followed by a resounding: Shit…
For all of Priya’s recent irresponsible behavior, she hasn’t actually strayed too far into committing any crimes, and thus, doesn’t exactly have a background in stealing things, especially not from the office of a woman who most certainly knows better than maybe everyone in the building. Maybe this task would have been better suited to a Navigation major, or Covert Operations, or anyone who actually knew what they were doing when it came to breaking and entering. If they had asked her to solve a medical emergency, perhaps she’d be better suited to it. But nevertheless, she’s going to have to try.
Priya only has twenty-four hours, and so she knows she’s not going to be able to learn how to pick a lock (most likely a super-mega-lock) in the allotted time. So, breaking in is certainly out of the question. It would be better, she thinks, to be invited in.
“Do you have a minute, Madam President?” she asks with a smile when Laura Sutton opens the door to her office.
“Oh, please, don’t call me ‘madam’. But, what can I do for you, Miss Daly?”
Priya explains that she’d like some help in learning about her mother, conceding that she’d already tried the library, but due to being a first year, can’t really access any material that might help, and that she felt Laura Sutton might have a good grasp on history or alum at Gallagher.
“I’m not trying to say you’re old, because you look great,” Priya goes on. “You just… sort of seem like an institution yourself. I figured you might know better than anyone.”
President Sutton raises a brow at her, but opens her door wider all the same. “Come in.”
When she steps inside, Priya’s immediately looking around, though she doesn’t think that makes her look suspicious, because getting a first-time look into the President’s quarters is on it’s own, pretty wild, she thinks. Pretty quickly, she spots Laura’s tall shelf, lined with rows and rows of books. Yay.
“So, you said you had some questions about your legacy?” Laura asks, settling into her desk chair.
Priya realizes this was probably not the best route to go, because, well, actually she does want to know more about her mom, and it’s a litter easier than she’d like to tear her attention away from scanning the lines of book titles, and bring it to the kind gaze of Laura Sutton.
“Um… Yeah. I don’t… I don’t suppose you happened to know my mom?” Priya asks as she takes a seat on the other side of the desk.
The president lets out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “I’m afraid I didn’t, and while I do appreciate you thinking I am somehow all-knowing, Im afraid I don’t know quite as much about every legacy family as you might think. But I’m positive I can find a good starting place. If that’s what you’re after, of course.”
She glances one more time at the bookshelf, weighing her options, before turning back to President Sutton with a small nod, her eyes eager. Maybe this is buying time, but as they keep discussing it, Priya feels the clock ticking on her, and she’s not sure how best to proceed. She doesn’t know how to be a spy in this regard.
One thing Priya surprisingly does know is the way some of these Gallagher girls were brought up. And considering there’s a whole floor with her last name on it, Priya can only assume President Sutton fully grew up in this world. She knows how to be a spy, an agent, a trained and calculative mind. But, she also must know the makings of a fine young lady.
“Do you have any tea?” she asks, voice innocent as it can be. “Earl Grey, maybe?”
“Oh– How rude of me, I should have asked. Do you take it with sugar?” Laura responds, quickly rising from the desk, and it’s the only thing Priya could have really predicted out of this whole night.
“No, ma’am,” she answers, eerily and easily falling back into the mannerisms of the girl she used to be, her legs even moving to sit proper in the plush chair opposite the desk.
As soon as Laura’s out of the room, having excused herself to a small kitchenette just a door away, Priya is– rather conspicuously– already up out of her chair and scanning the bookshelf to her left. There are, annoyingly, a lot of books to sort through, and Priya spends most of her time reading title after title, none of which look at all like some sort of spell-book.
Until, that is, her fingers pass by a worn brown spine, the dark lettering on the side hard to make out until she slides the book out of the shelf, and in Priya’s hands, she holds a tome titled The Dahlia’s Book of Shadows.
“Finally,” she whispers with a wide smile, and that’s exactly when another voice speaks up.
“Miss Daly, can I help you with that?”
When she spins back around, Priya notices first that she hadn’t even heard her reenter the room, even though Laura Sutton stands with a silver tray in her hands, loaded with ceramic plates, cups, and spoons, all balancing with the steaming teakettle, her face giving away nothing but calm and composure. Poise, Priya would do well to remember, is needed of both a spy and a lady.
She would have tried to hide the book if it wasn’t obvious enough already, so Priya does her best to appear perfectly normal, an easy grin on her face.
“I’m all good, I was just looking around,” she responds quick.
Laura sets down the tray, her voice sounding both respectably apologetic and effortlessly authoritative. “I hate to say it, but a lot of those volumes are off-limits. Would you mind leaving that where you found it?”
“You don’t check some of them out like the library?” the student jokes, albeit an admittedly lame one.
The president only pours two cups, never losing focus. “Unfortunately not,” she says, then walks over to the younger girl with a perfectly balanced teacup. “If you’d like, we can discuss the contents of this old notebook,” she starts, taking the dusty book from Priya’s hands and placing it back on the shelf before replacing it with another. “Or, I think I’ve found the right place to start when it comes to your mother’s time here.”
Laura Sutton’s face is serene and considerate, not at all accusatory, as she looks at Priya Daly with those same kind eyes. All she wants to do is help this lost girl, who she seems to know would rather learn about the woman she used to love than get caught up in whatever other nonsense is currently plaguing her.
To her credit, she’s right, though Priya takes her time in looking between the two books before ultimately knowing what she’ll choose.
Screw your stupid spell-book, she thinks, then takes the steaming cup from Laura Sutton’s hand, a hopeful grin on her face. She’s too cool for them anyway.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweater Weather
(AO3 link 2676 words, general audiences)
Written for the @holidaymixtape and featuring adorable art by @bs-acorns!
“They’re looking for a barista at the dog park,” Sam had said, a combination of words so nonsensical that Dean asked him if he’d hit his head.
Sam rolled his eyes. “I told you I’ve been taking Phoebe to the park.”
When Sam finally reached the point where he could get a dog, he’d gone right for a Great Dane, like he was making up for all his dogless years with the biggest one he could find. Next to most people, Great Danes seemed like miniature ponies, but Dean couldn’t deny that Phoebe looked perfectly proportional striding along his oversized, long-legged brother. Despite her size, she was the world’s biggest couch potato, sometimes sitting down on the sidewalk to declare herself done in the middle of walks. As it was nearly impossible to convince one hundred and twenty-five pounds of stubborn dog to do anything, Sam began exploring other options. In doing so, he discovered that taking her to a park resulted in her loping around, sniffing and peeing in a nearly infinite loop, getting some much-needed exercise without Sam needing to cajole her for blocks at a time.
Dean pretended like he wasn’t quite sure. “You mean the one where Eileen goes?”
Sam blushed and Dean smiled smugly, happy to see his big brother intuition hadn’t failed him. He’d been “casually mentioning” Eileen and her service dog with telling frequency.
That’s when Sam explained that there was a coffee shop on site at the park.
Before Dean applied for the job, he’d never considered the logic of a coffee shop/dog park combo, but the more he learned, the more sense it made. Dog people, it turned out, loved to socialize with other dog people, and they would stay at the same location for hours on end if their dogs were happy. If they could capitalize on that by selling hot drinks to cold people, then really, it was a win-win. And while Dean might not have been a dog person, he could chat up customers and make drinks like nobody’s business.
That had been a year ago. Now Sam and Eileen were making plans to move in together, and whereas Dean started out barely able to tell a bichon from a beagle, he was currently familiar with at least a half-dozen types of terrier. And while he’ll never admit it to anyone, one time he’d accurately identified a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, leaving him with the same self-congratulatory rush he imagined birders got when they added to their life lists.
Not only had Dean gotten familiar with the dogs, he’d gotten to know a number of the owners as well. Dean didn’t quite buy the theory that dogs and their owners started to resemble each other, but he couldn’t deny the perfect pairing of Garth with his tall, skinny whippet or Mildred, whose old poodle mix shared her grey curls and slow, stiff gait.
Then there was Cas.
He was tall and broad-shouldered with strong runner’s legs. He had wild dark hair that looked like he’d walked through a windstorm no matter the weather, and his eyes were an almost unearthly blue. Dean could see him with a husky maybe, or a chocolate lab that could run alongside him, its tongue hanging out as it easily kept pace.
Whatever Dean expected, it wasn’t a small and sturdy pug. The first time he’d shown up, Dean knelt down to greet the pup, and he’d asked--like he always did--the dog’s name. He made a point of trying to remember them because that was just good customer service.
Dean let the dog sniff his hand before running his palm over her short, smooth coat. Excited by the attention, the dog’s eyes bulged and it snorted through its pushed-in nose. Dean felt his own eyes widen in response and he used the opportunity to glance back up at the handsome owner. “What’s your dog’s name?”
The man took a moment to answer as he was busy gazing fondly at the snorting creature. “Zeus.”
Dean looked back at the dog who couldn’t weigh more than about twelve pounds, and laughed. “That’s hilarious.”
The man looked apologetic. “I didn’t name her.”
“No?” Dean tried not to think about the fact that he probably had an equally gorgeous girlfriend who’d bestowed the name.
“I acquired her from a rather unscrupulous breeder. It seemed wrong to change her name when everything else had been taken from her.” His brow furrowed in such a sorrowful way that suddenly a pug seemed like his perfect companion.
Dean got back to his feet. “Oh, wow. That’s great. That you rescued her, I mean.”
“Thank you,” he said with a sincerity that had Dean biting back a smile.
“Welcome to Pups and Cups.” Dean held out his hand. “I’m Dean.”
“Cas.”
Dean liked a lot of things about Cas. Like the way he kept close to Zeus in the park. Plenty of owners unclipped their dogs from the leash and settled down on a bench, but Cas moved slowly around the park with her, like he was worried the bigger dogs might get a little too rough. He liked the way Cas seemed oblivious to exactly good-looking he was, either missing out on (or not interested in) the way both men and women tried to strike up conversations with him. He liked that Cas had an earnestness about him that was oddly endearing, an almost shy formality that made each smile Dean got out of him extremely gratifying. It generally involved greeting Zeus, so Dean made a habit of addressing her and pretending to take her order before getting his. Maybe it was the predictability of the interaction, but Cas seemed to genuinely enjoy the joke. He’d give Dean that full-on smile, the real one where his eyes crinkled.
“Ask him out,” Charlie told him after he’d gone through this routine one day.
“I dunno.”
“Dean. You spent the last forty-five minutes with one eye on the door waiting for him to show up.”
“Keeping an eye out for new customers is an important part of the job.”
“You elbowed me out of the way to take his order.”
“I did not,” he insisted as she sadly rubbed her upper arm. “Wait, did I really?”
“Of course you didn’t.” She grinned, validated. “But clearly you didn’t consider it out of the realm of possibility. Oh hey, here he comes again.”
“Shut up,” he hissed at her as Cas made his way back into the coffee shop. “What’s up, Cas? Does Zeus need extra whip?” He ignored the soft groan Charlie made.
“Actually, Dean, I just wanted to let someone know that the poop bag dispenser is empty.”
“I’m on it. Thanks for letting me know.” Cas’s cheeks were pink from the cold December day. So were the tips of his ears. Something about it made his eyes look extra blue. Dean didn’t realize they were still standing and staring until he felt something whap him in the arm.
“Here you go, buddy. Why don’t you go take care of that right now?” Charlie gave him a faux innocent look and Dean looked down to find the package of refills in his hands. “I’ll watch the front.”
Charlie was the best friend Dean had ever had, and she was practically bouncing on her toes when he came back inside. “Well? Did you ask him?”
Dean shook his head. “Charlie, I’m the guy who makes him coffee and replaces the poop bags. I’m not a guy he’s looking to go out with.”
“Dean--” Charlie began, a soft look on her face that was worse than if she’d yelled at him.
“It’s fine.” He was saved from any further discussion when a group of people and dogs came in through the door.
***
As December progressed, Charlie continued encouraging him to ask Cas out and Dean continued to refuse. He was fine for dumb jokes and he knew he made a damn good latte, but Cas had a real job doing...something important. From time to time Dean overheard him take a work call on his cell phone and it was all I’ll get you the files and Let me run the numbers and other fancy shit that reminded Dean that Cas was out of his league.
It was all good. Dean could continue to look forward to the few moments when Cas had those blue eyes focused on him, he could take satisfaction in making him smile and presenting him with a hot drink on a cold day. He didn’t need more.
One afternoon, he was crouched down in front of the counter giving a handsome Shepherd mix named Otto his puppacino. Otto’s overly large dark ears perked up when Zeus bounded over to say hello. It was well past the time Cas usually showed, so Dean had assumed he wasn’t coming, but from the looks of her, today was clearly a special occasion. She was dressed in a red and green Christmas sweater, adorned with a dog wearing sparkly green slippers and a candy-striped elf hat.
“Well, look at you!” Dean said, as she pushed her snout into his waiting hand. He got to his feet, laughing in delight when he realized Cas was wearing a matching sweater. “You guys been to an ugly sweater party or what?”
The familiar smile didn’t cross Cas’s face. If anything he looked more serious, his head tipping to the side. “Why do you ask?”
“Uh,” Dean said, praying for the floor to open beneath him. Or for the espresso maker to explode and vaporize him where he stood. Anything.
“Oh,” Cas said, as if it suddenly all made sense, and Dean thought maybe he’d be able to breathe again. He pointed to his sweater. “Maybe you didn’t realize that this is a pug.”
Dean looked more closely. It was indeed a pug. A pug, wearing an elf hat adorned with sparkly pom poms perched on a shiny red and green striped present. If that weren’t gaudy enough, green and red satin bows were scattered across the sweater.
Cas smoothed his hand over his chest in a most distracting way. “It’s even a girl! See?”
“A tutu,” Dean said, not sure if he was going to laugh or cry. “She’s...wearing a tutu.” And she was indeed, made of bright red netting.
“It’s our first Christmas together.” His eyes were shining.
Charlie, who had apparently witnessed this entire debacle, came to his rescue. “Dean, could you please. Get that thing. From the back.”
Gratefully Dean nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” In the back he stood with his forehead against the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator, trying to let it soothe the embarrassment that heated his face.
A few minutes later, Charlie poked her head through the door. “The coast is clear.”
Dean thumped his head once against the fridge before straightening up. Charlie watched him, concern in her eyes as he came back out. “What do I do?”
“I...don’t think he’s upset?” Charlie glanced out the window to where Cas was doing his normal route following Zeus around the park.
“Yeah, but he thought I was making fun of him.”
“That’s because you were.”
“What was I supposed to think?” The embarrassment was making him defensive, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Who would wear a sweater like that sincerely?” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I fucked this up.”
“I have an idea,” Charlie said.
***
The next day she arrived with a large shopping bag. They were still thirty minutes from opening and she pulled him into the back.
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
She nodded decisively. “I’m absolutely positive that it won’t make things worse.”
“That’s not exactly...reassuring.”
“Look, Dean. If you don’t want him to think you were making fun of him, then you have to put your money where your mouth is.” She reached into the bag. “Speaking of, you owe me $24.99.”
“He won’t be in until this afternoon. Can’t I put it on then?”
“No way. For this to work, you need to wear it unironically all day.”
Dean pulled off his outer layer and took a deep breath before pulling the sweater over his head. ”Not a word.”
In a flash, Charlie had her phone out to snap a picture. “You’re a hero.” She moved closer to show him. The bright red sweater was dominated by a large Christmas tree made from those sequins that changed color when flipped over. Next to the Christmas tree was a pug wearing a Christmas sweater of its own. In large letters under the tree it said BAH HUM PUG.
Dean took in a long, slow breath through his nose.
“He’s gonna love it,” Charlie said, using two fingers to flip the sequins.
He pushed her hand away. “Consent is a thing. I gotta get to work.”
All morning long Dean dealt with amused looks and a variety of snarky comments.
“You lose a bet?” he muttered as sarcastically as possible with his back turned to the counter after hearing it for the umpteenth time. The more people gave him shit--little joking comments that shouldn’t have meant anything but that built up over time until he was ready to substitute decaf in all their fucking high maintenance orders--the more defensive he got, going from shrugging apologetically and trying to laugh along, to glaring, his chest puffed out like a soldier. Why the fuck shouldn’t he be able to wear whatever he wanted without people making disparaging comments? It was an object lesson in...what did Sam call them? Microaggressions. He was making a mental note to text his brother and let him know he finally understood when Cas and Zeus came in.
Now the shyness that he’d started his shift with washed over him again. What if Cas didn’t notice, or what if he thought Dean was making fun of him. Again. He heard Charlie murmur “Here we go,” as she moved into place to take over the customer ahead of Cas.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. “Did you get a new sweater?”
“Heya, Cas. I did.” Dean knew this was the whole point, but he felt self-conscious and couldn’t seem to keep from rushing to take his order. “You want your usual?”
But Cas was still staring at his chest and a small smile had crossed his face. As Dean watched, he disappeared out of view, popping up a moment later with Zeus in his arms. “Look, baby,” he practically cooed in his rough, deep voice. “It’s a pug just like you.”
Dean stood a little taller, tugging at the front of his sweater like it would help her see better.
“May I?” Cas asked, nodding toward Dean.
“Uh, sure?” Dean wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing to, but cradling the dog in one arm, Cas reached out and smoothed a hand over the sequins on his chest. Dean’s mouth went suddenly dry. Cas’s hand was a firm presence, warm even through the sweater. He stroked up and down, evidently delighted. Zeus snorted and pressed her nose under Cas’s chin.
It was now or never.
“Would you like to go out some time?” It came out in a rush, Dean almost breathless with nerves and Cas’s palm on his chest.
Cas went still but he didn’t drop his hand. His blue eyes widened in surprise. “I would love to.”
“Cool,” Dean said. “Cool. Ok. We’ll do that.” They stood and smiled at each other until the customer behind Cas cleared his throat. “Let me get your coffee.” This time Dean carefully wrote his number on the cup.
***
A few months later, Cas and Zeus showed up in matching red sweaters. Each one had a shiny satin pink heart with an applique of a pug in the center. In big letters were the words Pugs and Kisses. “It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” he explained to Charlie, after giving Dean a quick kiss.
Dean was already wearing his.
#deancas#destiel#ugly holiday sweaters#cas + dogs#coffee shop au#2019 spn holiday mixtape#my writing
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
November Favorites 2020!
Hello!
So as you may have seen I have been uploading a bunch of art all of November, not every week because of my crippling job at the moment taking away my sanity.lol. But i did try my best to update whenever I can. I do have so much more to complete so please look out this December for more digital art being pumped out
How are you all doing? I'm holding up decently, I'm trying to avoid talking about covid since that's all i've been hearing from work and home and it's really making me anxious since i'm not able to work from home due to the nature of my job. I hope you all are holding up hope and taking care of your selves, let's all remember that there is a time after this and we will get through this.
with that being said I will have a lot more time to spend on my art after January since my work term is going to end and I don't plan to stay for an extension, so maybe then I'll catch up on all of my previous art that I was supposed to upload, a.k.a my hero academia ones.lol
also I'm still chugging along reading more manhwa (web toons ) from korean and chinese artists, i'm so disappointed in myself for not discovering these sooner, these stories are really good and so much effort was put into the art panels, as I have said all I've read was manga so i'm used to just seeing black and white panels, so i never really dove into web toons though I have appreciated the work put into it, now that I'm down the rabbit hole I am discovering really good story lines that are different from the manga I've read thus far and I'm really enjoying it!
so i'm excited to share my thoughts on everything I've been liking
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Manhwa/Manga/Webtoon
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
so previously in last months recommendations I have talked about a few of the manhwa I've been reading so I'll briefly list those below since they are all still ongoing
1) who's baby is it
2) to be or no to be
3) social temperature
4) salad days
all of them are still ongoing and i'm still in the process of reading them so I can't give a full review till it's completed but so far I am still enjoying them, that's definitely a good sign since i tend to just drop something after I don''t find it interesting anymore at some point in the story. If you have not read my October favorites journal please do so for my initial thoughts on these manhwas. Now i'm actually going to talk about some of the ones that are completed , so you can definitely read all of them without waiting for the an update from translators, lol
this is in no particular order, just fyi
1) Path to you
"When almost college dropout Jensen attempts to drink away his problems, unemployed Nathaniel( Neil ) suddenly pukes on him and ruins his night. As an apology, Nathaniel offers to help Jensen with his studies. Despite Jensen's difficulties in getting along with people, the two become friends and something deeper begins to grow between them...”
this is the summary from one of the manga websites I was able to find, it does not even describes the emotional plot line that goes along with this later, this is ones of my absolute favorites! I love this manhwa so much, its a great depiction of a coming of age story for collage students going through their life journey and slowly getting though life's difficulties and challenges, one character is going though emotional trauma and trying to over come it for years and another character is going through anti social disorder and discovering his sexuality, it's a plot line that portrayed human aspects in life quite well. I love the relationship between the two main character and how their relationship developed over time from being friends to being a couple. there is a lot of relationship building and minimal drama, which is really refreshing from mangas that I've read, so if you are just starting to delve into BL webtoons, please read this first! you will not be disappointed
with that being said, I love Neil, so much.... you don't even know. lol. He's so precious, literally like an actual cinnamon roll. LOL. i'm exposing myself ...so i'll leave it at that, i’m also wondering why his name is neil instead of nathan or nate...? lol.
2) Here U Are
"Orientation of the newcomers is a task for YuYang, and he ends up helping the unsociable and towering LiHuan, the kind of person that does everything to be disliked. But after better knowing each other, he discovers that the giant isn’t that bad of a person at all...”
I really wish I could find better summaries, lol. but it's to the point without giving away too much so i'll take it. This is one of the most popular series and I can totally see why after reading it, this story has every possible human aspect and relationship building between the two main leads, I actually teared in some parts of this manhwa and I've never done that before! such a good story and plot line, if I were to pick any series in a web toon to be animated then I would choose this series hands down. There's also sub plots between different characters as well and how they deal with their interpersonal relationships and relationships between the two main leads, I love it! This is everything I want in a story, so please check this one out
also yuyang looks a lot like miyuki Kazuya from Daiya no ace and that just made me drawn to him.I really liked his personality and in the manhwa he has girls and guys in love with him and dude...I get it.
3) BJ Alex
"Every night at 10, Dong-gyun locks himself up in his room, grabs a box of tissues, and watches a live cam boy show hosted by Alex, a BJ (broadcast jockey). Timid Dong-gyun admires not only Alex’s ripped body, but his candor in sharing his sexual experiences with viewers. One night, Dong-gyun downs too many drinks at a school networking event and passes out. When he wakes up, he’s in bed staring up at a shirtless hunk. A hunk who looks an awful lot like...Alex.”
so um...this is more yaoi than shounen ai cause of all the graphic scenes in the manhwa, if you are veteran you may have already read this one cause its really popular. It also has a lot of comedic elements to it too so it's not too serious, but the relationship developed between the two characters later on is really sweet despite the infinite amount of sex scenes. Not much else to say about this story, it's easy to follow and the only abuse in here is the emotional kind
I'm not really entirely sure how i felt about it in the beginning but the end is really good
4) No way, vampires don't exist
"Four college housemates — Juwon, Eunho, Seongjae, and Gyumin — are in desperate need of a fifth person to fill a vacant room in their place. But their main concern isn’t about paying rent: they’re ravenous vampires, dying to sink their teeth into a fresh, live human! So they can’t believe their luck when Dongha, who grew up isolated from society, eagerly moves in with no idea of what awaits him. To the vampires’ dismay, however, Dongha doesn’t weigh enough for them to suck his blood! As they shower their unsuspecting new housemate with food and attention to fatten him up, have they gotten too attached to their would-be prey? And is there more to sweet, naive Dongha than meets the hungry vampires’ eyes?”
I have to preface by saying that ever since my twilight phase, I didn't consume anything that had to do with vampires for a very long time, for obvious reasons, but this one I just came across after reading path to you and thought I would at least check it out. It started off really comedic and I was like...what am i reading? but it gets really light hearted and wholesome later on in the story. What I like about this is the character juwon, If you look at him he's that type of character that would look like the stoic a-hole of the story and those characters never appeal to me. But turns out he's the sweetest person most decent person of this story, it makes you want to route for him and another thing I like about this story is that it looks like a harem but you can tell that there’s only one person the main character doungha treats differently from the rest and how the two are compatible with one another. in these kind of stories, it’s always treated as every character is a possible route that leads to their own story but in here....there's only one...let's be real. This is one that is an odd ball cause it's technically completed but the translations are not...so i had to read the rest in korean, which makes it a good practice for me since i'm learning korean at the moment, it’s a good exercise...lol
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anime/ Drama
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Not going to lie this department is lacking...lol. I have only been watching Heavens official blessing as mentioned in the last journal
but I have just found out that there is a remake of Shaman king in the making....and my little girl heart is screaming cause I loved shaman king when i was younger...so I can't wait for that
as for dramas, I've tried watching Start Up but I didn't like it so I dropped it, I might try watching crash landing on you since my best friend was obsessed with it, I watched a little of it but I left it since I was busy so i may get back to watching it from the beginning
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Music
--------------------------------------------------------------------
i'll put together a play list for you when you read these manga/manhwa...lol. cause that's what i've been doing
Playlist
Crush- No words
Sam kim - Breathe
Crush - let us go
Kim feel - falling
Paul kim - Dream
Kim feel - Hallelujah
Davichi - please don't cry
Yoo mirae - say
taeyeon - a poem called you
baek yerin- Here I am again
I wish tumblr has a way to play music on your page, without copy right..lol. I would share all of these songs cause they are so good
------------------------------------------------------------------------
so that's it for the month of November, lets' see what i get up to for December, I will be updating as frequently as possible so please look out for more art from me and follow me on my social media , I will see you all next time
bye!
Sheena
---------------------------------------------
Social media
Devianatart: she-be.deviantart.com
Instagram: shinb_art
Tumblr: shinahbee
#monthly favorites#november favorites#anime and manga#manhwa#manga favorites#journal#kpop music#kdrama#path to you#here u are#bj alex#no way vampires don't exist
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Four Times (and the Lucky One) Chapter 5: The Lucky One
At the fifth and final attempt, provided for by the Universe itself, Adrien finally gets his lucky break.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Thank you all for reading! Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
My Ko-fi
It took a lot to drag himself out of bed. These last few days had been an absolute slough to get through and not just because of his overbearing workload. Which was unsurprising since early December was always the busiest time of the year for him. The simple fact that he wouldn’t be able to try again with Marinette for six more weeks weighed more heavily on him than the photoshoots, the fencing practices, the Chinese lessons, and all his schoolwork. But he had to persevere, if only so he could reach that point again.
While he was eating breakfast alone in the dining room, Nathalie entered with her tablet in hand. She walked over to him without her eyes ever leaving the screen until she was standing right next to him, at which point she looked down at him impassively.
“Your photoshoot for the afternoon has been cancelled.” She held up a hand to forestall his question. “In addition, Monsieur D’Argencourt has reported that he is ill and will be cancelling classes for at least the next few days.”
He waited patiently for her to say what would be replacing these activities, but instead of explaining further she began to walk back out of the room.
“Wait!” Nathalie turned back around. “Does that mean… I have the day off?”
There was a pause. “Yes. Will that be a problem? If so I can-”
“No! No, that’s… that’s fine. I’m sure I can find something to do on my own. Thank you.”
Nathalie raised an eyebrow but nodded and left.
During his trip to school, the faint embers of hope were slowly being stoked as he scrolled through his social media. He didn’t want to get too optimistic, though - he still needed to get Marinette alone and that had proven his downfall time and time again.
Something caught his eye as he was scrolling. There was an outdoor movie event at the park tonight. He felt confident that she liked movies - she’d mentioned it as Ladybug once or twice, he was sure. If he threw in a dinner, then that would be romantic enough, right? It wasn’t far off from his last semi-successful attempt, but he had to try.
The car came to a stop and Adrien absentmindedly got out. He was here early enough that Nino wasn’t waiting for him - in fact, not many people seemed to be around. For a moment he considered waiting outside for Marinette, but quickly decided that he’d rather sit down in the classroom. In the meantime, he could figure out a plan for talking to Marinette without anyone else around. He stepped into the classroom.
There she was. At her desk. Semi-tired, working on some assignment at the last minute. In shock and disbelief he looked around the room.
Empty.
Completely, blessedly empty.
Except for the two of them.
Not wanting to scare her, he made sure that his footfalls were audible as he stepped towards his desk to set down his bag before crouching down next to her. Despite all his preparations, she was so out of it, and so focused on what she was doing that she was still startled when he spoke.
“Hello, Marinette.” He spoke with the sweetest, most pleasant voice he could manage. The effect was immediate - a faint blush dusted her cheeks, and made her freckles stand out all the more. How could one person be so adorable?
“Oh! H-hey, Adrien. What’s up? How are you?”
Without anything else to hide behind, she was feeling nervous again. Even he tell sense that as she only barely stopped herself from babbling.
“Pretty good. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He rested his chin on the arm he had set down on her desk, forcing him to look up to meet her eyes.
“R-really? What do you, um, what did you want to t-talk about?” Her hands were in her lap and despite how she tried to hide it, he could see how they were clenched and shaking.
“I was just-” He coughed, finding his tongue to have dried. “My schedule was suddenly clear for today. And I guess- Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner and movies with me...?”
He saw her freeze for a long moment before melting again. “Oh, that sounds cool! I’ll ask Alya and Nino-”
"No, Mari.” He rolled forward on his knees, rising enough that he was eye level with her as he softly grabbed her shoulders. “Just you and me. I want to go on a date. With you, if that's okay. You're really special to me and... just please? This is very literally my fifth attempt. You're a wonderful-Mari?" She went boneless under his hands and he just barely caught her before she went tumbling. “Marinette, are you okay?!”
“Y-yeah. Just… just peachy.” She straightens herself out, but still has a dazed look on her face. A deep blush spread across her entire face and started to touch her neck. “So you… want to go out… on a date… with me…?”
There was no hesitation as Adrien nodded. His stomach fluttered, but he forced himself to be as confident as possible. The hard part, he assumed, was over. “Absolutely. If you’ll have me, of course.” Some uncertainty intruded into his mind. “I mean, you can say no if you want-”
“NO!”
Adrien reeled and made to remove his hands. “I… I see.”
Before he could move them more than a few centimeters, Marinette had quickly placed her hands over his, keeping them in place. Words fired out of her mouth as rapid speeds. “Wait, no, sorry, that came out wrong. I meant, there is no way I’d say no. I’ve just been waiting on this for a while now and I never thought- I always thought I’d have to be the one to make the first move. I’m just so surprised that you asked and please please please don’t be sad I didn’t mean it, I want to go out with you, honestly.”
Adrien took a moment to look to the side and process what she had said.
“So…” he said tentatively, “Is that a… yes?”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he slipped his arms around her waist and returned the hug.
-----------------
They spent the rest of the day stealing glances at each other, blushing wildly, and doing poorly in terms of actual classwork. But neither of them could care much about that when they knew what was waiting for them after school was let out.
The last bell freed them and they walked out together. There were no words between them as they went down the stairs, but Adrien knew that there would be plenty of time for talking when they met up later for their date.
Their date… Still hard to believe that he’d finally managed it.
The car was waiting for him and he noticed the subtle changes to the Gorilla’s expression when he saw them together. Adrien wasn’t sure if it was just him imagining it, but he could almost swear that there was a faint smile on his bodyguard’s face.
“So… you haven’t changed your mind, right?” Marinette struggled to meet his eye.
“I definitely haven’t,” Adrien replied confidently. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
“A-awesome! I’ll… I’ll see you later, then. Tonight. Later tonight! For our… for our date. That we are having. Our… romantic, not-platonic, date. Between just us two.” She wrung her hands as she looked at him, looking dazed. “Right?”
Adrien chuckled. “Yes. As romantic a date as I can pull off with such short notice.”
“Great. Awesome. I’ll just… go get ready for it then. Our date.”
Adrien watched her run across the street before getting into the car. It was excruciating to part from her, even if it was only for a couple hours. It was like she said though; they needed to get ready for their date. And it would be a while before the movie night started. Even if they got there early to get the best spot, it was still hours out.
“Well, well,” Plagg began, “Looks like you finally got your date. We could’ve been here plenty sooner if you just- mrph!” He was cut off when Adrien silenced him with a wedge of camembert.
Adrien wanted to bask in this victory for just a little while longer.
-----------------
Marinette looked at herself in the mirror. Her pastel yellow sundress, embroidered with her signature flowers. Her hair let loose. And so very, very nervous.
“Girl, it’s going to be alright!” Alya’s hand rested on her shoulders as she appeared next to her. “This dress is way cute - you’re gonna make the boy wish he’d asked you out sooner.”
Her reflection showed her the nervous smile she gave Alya. “I just- this might be my one chance! What if it was just on a whim and I blow it and he never wants anything to do with me ever again?!”
Alya raised her eyebrow. “M, this is definitely not just a whim. I can promise that.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Call it reporter’s intuition.”
“That’s what you say when you know something I don’t.”
“Precisely.” Alya smiled sweetly. “So take it on faith that I know what I’m talking about. Now get your cute little butt downstairs. I can hear Adrien talking with your parents.” Alya held up Marinette’s purse.
Marinette let out a startled squeak as she snagged her purse. She hurried down the stairs, chased by Alya’s laughter. Her confidence grew as she thought over her best friend’s words, but so did her curiosity. What did Alya know that she didn’t?
Those thoughts were put to the side as she entered the living room where Adrien stood prim and proper in front of her parents. The moment she appeared at the doorway, Adrien was turning towards her and her heart skipped a beat. His outfit wasn’t anything that would grace the covers of his father’s magazines, but his baseball tee hugged his body much better than his usual designer t-shirt, as did the dark wash jeans that made his appearance just on the cusp of being formal.
Or, to be more accurate to what she was thinking at the moment: Oh God - he's somehow even HOTTER.
“Hey, Marinette-”
It was gratifying to see the way his eyes widened and he became slack jawed as he looked her over. Ever the gentleman, his gaze immediately snapped back to her face as he schooled his face into a polite smile. Even then, she could see the way his cheeks were blushing furiously. It felt nice for him to finally be in the same boat as her.
“Hello, Adrien,” she smiled up at him and they spent a few good long moments staring into each other’s eyes before her father cleared his throat.
“Well, you two have a nice time, alright? And don’t stay out too late.”
“Of course, Mr. Dupain!”
“Just call me Tom, son,” her dad said with a chuckle. “I get the feeling we’ll be seeing lots more of each other soon.”
“I certainly hope so,” Adrien replied earnestly as he waved and left, Marinette at his side.
They were quiet as they left and entered the car waiting outside. The appearance of two soft looking blankets surprised her for a moment, but she shrugged it off. Maybe it had been for a photoshoot? She kept her hands on her knees and eyes forward. Her confidence was wavering and she didn’t know what to do to lighten her mood. Adrien seemed about as scared as she was, despite this being his idea.
“So… My parents didn’t give you too much trouble, did they?” She risked a glance towards him before quickly returning her eyes forward again. “You know how nosy they can be…”
“No, no!” He quickly reassured her. “They were great, very welcoming.” The silence returned. “They seem nice.”
“Yeah. They are.”
She swallowed heavily as the car parked. Before she could do anything, Adrien had practically leapt out of the car, leaving her blinking at his empty spot. She jumped when her car door opened. Had he really just run around just to open it for her? She wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or touched by that, so she settled for a small smile as she slid out of her seat.
The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, which helped put her mind at ease some. She’d been afraid that he’d go all out trying to impress her, and that her simple sundress wouldn’t be near good enough.
“Table for two, please,” Adrien said and they were quickly guided to their seats, where he was quick to scoot out her chair for her. They ordered food and sat in silence for a couple minutes, Adrien fiddling with his ring and Marinette casting glances around the room.
“I like your dress.” Startled, Marinette looked up at Adrien. “Did you make it yourself?”
“Y-yes!” Marinette smoothed it down, feeling proud and a little self conscious about it. “How did you know?”
“You mean besides the high quality?” He smirked and Marinette’s heart fluttered. “I recognize that flower pattern from that shirt you wear a lot.”
“Th-thank you! And yes, the flower means a lot to me. It’s like a connection to my heritage, you know? I like to put it in my designs, along with my name.” She hesitated. “Is it conceited to have two signatures on a work?”
“Not necessarily. If I made pieces that good, I’d definitely want people to know who made them.” He took a sip of water. “What other projects are you working on? I know you’re always drawing in your sketchbook, so I’m sure you’ve got something in the works.”
“Yes! I’m always working on something. It’s where most of the money I earn helping out at the bakery goes,” she laughed ruefully. “Sometimes its just something for my own closet, but a lot of the time I’m making a gift for someone or working on a commission.”
“Do you get a lot of those?”
“Ever since I did those commissions for Jagged Stone, I’ve had a trickle of projects come my way. Like this one time…”
Marinette got swept up talking about herself throughout dinner. It was a risk when someone got her started with her passions, but she wasn’t entirely to blame. Adrien was a very attentive listener, always asking relevant questions and seemed very interested in everything she had to say about herself. Every time she would think she was done, he’d ask just the right thing to get her locked into another tangent and before long Adrien was paying for the dinner and they were out of the restaurant.
The sun was just about to begin sinking below the horizon, leaving them plenty of time to get to the park. What Marinette had failed to remember was that this was late fall - the daytime might have been comfortably warm, but the night was going to be chilly. And all she had was a sundress.
“Something the matter, Marinette?” Adrien asked as he opened the car door for her.
“Oh! Um, no, I’m fine. Just kicking myself for not dressing warmer is all.”
Adrien chuckled. “I get what you mean. I should’ve brought a jacket so at least one of us could be warm. Thankfully, that’s why I brought these along,” Adrien patted the stack of two blankets between them. A smile graced Marinette’s face. He’d put a lot of planning into something that had been so last minute.
Once they arrived, he had a few words with the Gorilla, who grunted and drove off.
“What was that about?” Marinette asked as he took her hand in his.
“I told him we’d be here for a while and we were close to your place, so I’d just have him meet me there after we’re done.”
“R-right. Okay.” She might have said something else, but chose instead to enjoy the moment and relish the feeling of holding hands with Adrien. Which made it all the more surprising when he suddenly stopped.
“What about here? We can lean against this tree, and we’re just far enough away from the screen that we won’t be surrounded by people.”
“Sounds great!” She squeaked out. They sat down close to each other, but not too close. Adrien passed her one of the blankets, which she gratefully draped over herself. Unfortunately, this was only barely managing to keep out the chill. It only got worse as the sun dipped below the horizon. Marinette started rubbing her arms to get some warmth.
"Whoa, are you cold?" She glanced over to see Adrien’s vibrant green eyes filled with concern.
"No! No, I'm fine,” she replied, trying to put on a brave face.
"Mari.” His tone was flat, and a touch reproachful. “You're shivering."
"This dress is just a little thin is all, but the blanket is great! I'll be fine-” Her eyes widened as he began shifting. “What are you doing?"
"Scooting closer. I will not have my lovely date shivering when I have a perfectly arm. Now please get under it," he lifted his arm with his blanket still on it.
"Adrien you really don't have to-"
"Yeah, because snuggling in the park with a gorgeous, intelligent girl is SUCH a hardship.” He rolled his eyes and shot her an oddly familiar grin. “C'mon. I hear guys are great space heaters anyway."
Hesitantly, as if moving too quickly would make her wake up from this dream, she crawled under Adrien’s blanket and felt his arm wrap around her shoulders. She squeaked when he pulled her a little closer, so that their bodies were flush together. By the time the movie began, she’d relaxed a little and rested her head against his chest.
The cold didn’t bother her for the rest of the night.
---------------------
“I had a wonderful time, Adrien.”
They were standing on the doorstep to her house, the last few moments that they had left for their night together. Neither of them wanted to end it, but there was nothing left for them to do except say goodbye.
“It’s been the best night I’ve had in a long time, Mari.” He looked down at her and hoped that she could see just how much love was in his eyes. He had high hopes - unlike at the start of their date, she wasn’t looking away any more. “I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”
Her breathing hitched. “Does that mean…?”
“That I’d like another date? Of course. Finding a time will be hard, but…” He winked. “I’m more than willing to wait.”
A blush spread across her cheeks. Not the biggest he’d teased from her that night, but beautiful all the same.
“Good night, Marinette.” He took her hand and dipped down to kiss it. When he looked back up, the redness had spread and she’d averted her eyes. A grin split his face. “Something the matter-”
He was interrupted, and his grin wiped clean, when she put her hands on either side of his face, leaned forward on her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It didn’t last long, but he was left wide eyed and dazed on her doorstep as she quickly opened the door.
“GoodnightAdrienIloveyou!” She blurted out as she slammed the door shut behind her.
Quick heartbeats passed before he touched his lips with two fingers and glanced up at her balcony, his heart pounding as he turned back around. He slipped into the backseat of the car and was startled to hear a slow clap from the front seat. From the rearview mirror he could see a faint smile on the Gorilla’s face. Adrien blushed more deeply.
Once he was back home, Adrien fell onto his bed and spread out, grinning at the ceiling like a dope. Plagg floated cross legged beside him.
“Well, well, well. Lover boy finally managed to do it.” He clapped his paws together, a toothy smile on his tiny face. “Congrats, kid. And I mean it. But aren’t you forgetting something?”
Adrien propped himself up on his elbows and tilted his head at his kwami.
“You forgot to hint about you being Chat Noir!” Plagg cackled. Adrien let himself fall back against the bed, but his frustration quickly melted away.
After all, there would be plenty more opportunities to come.
#Miraculous Ladybug#Adrien Agreste#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Adrienette#Plagg#Alya Cesaire#ml fanfiction#my writing#Four Times (and the Lucky One)#The Lucky One series
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
personal
I’ve been able to sleep until six the last few days. I’ve been on this miserable eight to four sleep schedule. I ordered a silent vortex coffee grinder specifically to be less annoying in this regard. Even if I could literally just grind the coffee the night before. I also bought a rug cleaner for the first time in my life. It’s amazing the things you don’t realize you need for a home let alone an office. Last night I received an email from LinkedIn asking me to weigh in on a conversation about higher education. The only public facing social networking site I really use actively I pay for. They bought a service called Linda.com years ago. It was probably the most important site to me for instructional videos. These days it is included on the platform so I spend a fair amount of time keeping my job skills plausible. I learned pretty hard the last six months that my professional network had all but evaporated. A hard thing to face when you worked with your friends for over twenty years. But people have to move on. I sometimes make decisions that seem smarter in retrospect. You could even mistake it for premonition but I just call it good judgement. I made the decision to start the process of becoming a LLC. It was pretty easy to do once you paid the four hundred dollars. There’s services out there online that will do the legal part for you. I chose VS consulting as the name which becomes real around mid December if the Secretary of State accepts it. They asked me to cut the ribbon virtually. I congratulated myself in silence but this is pretty much the first place I’ve shared the news with. My mom didn’t quite understand what I had done and my dad is an accountant. I haven’t told him yet either. I got the idea seeing some of the people who still work at my old job starting their own side businesses. Crazy to see people still employed having extra jobs in this economy. But for the most part I don’t really compare my experience to anyone’s anymore. So I just look forward. There are a lot of ways I generate income. Some of them aren’t very lucrative. I released another ep Monday. Three of my friends from across the world I never really talk to bought it immediately. It makes sense because my music is how they know me. So that’s how they keep up with me. From there, Bandcamp revenue share Friday passed with little or no fanfare. It still doesn’t change the fact I owe taxes on the income above a certain amount if I report it. We all know how the rich hate paying those taxes. And the whole world now knows that I work for a LLC on the premier professional social networking site. It’s a win win for me because I can still look for a job but I appear employed. It’s also a nice buffer in these times for your resume. In retrospect, every article I read says the end of December is a perfect time to start your own business. Mostly because January 1st allows you to start with a fresh balance sheet and good accounting. So if anything my New Year’s resolution is to be cleaner and more concise about everything. Even if the rest of society’s ethics and accountability gets muddier as COVID-19 and the election process drags on. The only things I really have to worry about this next year are documenting my spending, opening up a business checking account, and deducting business expenses. Sounds like a job to me.
There are tools you need for a job. I bought a year long subscription to Creative Cloud. I had it for free for years. I worked in a visual communications department for ten years. I saw the most amazing work every morning hung up outside my office. It inspired me to learn about print making and screen printing. I even owned Adobe stock at one point because I realized Microsoft Office wasn’t doing my resume much justice. I shudder to think how many jokes were cracked by the Workday staff over my Chanel submission. Truth is nobody called back for interviews at any of the places I applied. And this doesn’t really stop me from keeping my eyes out for a position anywhere. But if we are talking about generating income, I can do that all by myself. I can also hire people and deduct more business expenses if I felt that was an option. Which starts to get into the meat of why the job market and economy is so fucked up in America. A lot of people didn’t fall in line on a balance sheet when COVID-19 came crashing down last February. And when the fiscal year came time to start fresh, they thinned their liabilities. Companies are now thinking in quarters rather than years at this point. And small businesses like myself also have to think the same because I now owe the IRS money every three months. The accounting side of it doesn’t really bore me. I’ve done every IT role in the business pretty much over twenty years. I guess that’s why LinkedIn calls on me to offer an opinion. I’ve never had to be this hardcore about the finances. Another great reason why I spend so much time in spreadsheets aside from writing on the internet. It’s much easier to approach a professional consultant with twenty years of experience with an invoice than it is to tether them to your payroll with benefits. I’m always having to think six months ahead myself. This has an advantage to it insofar that I don’t often look back. You pay your taxes and you move on. There are many things I could do to generate income. I could make a zine and sell it quarterly on bandcamp along with shirts. I could post flyers around the neighborhood offering after christmas tech support. I could scour the net for opportunities to audit galvanized IT departments. I could do all this with more confidence if I could say I am employed. I could also hire someone to help me. But I could do none of this and deduct expenses without applying for a sole proprietorship. And truth be told I already have to claim this for the New York Stock Exchange. So if you had to put a label on what I do now it isn’t really that much different from any other business. The state’s richest men started as LLCs. They’re also the biggest pricks who pay the least taxes. Trickle down economics is a funny concept. Businesses offer jobs they deduct from their income therefore paying less to the pool. This would be fine for small income generating businesses. But Ken Griffin would say otherwise as he and other rich people benefit from this structure. They say the American Dream is owning your own business. So welcome to my personal nightmare. I hope you don’t mind me taking the itemized deductions after how I’ve been treated.
I don’t actually know how it’s going to work out. I just know I don’t want to appear unemployed while corporate America expects me to wink and make them more money. There are investments that have worked out for me as volatile as they might be. One Chinese company I invested in has made the CEO twelve times richer. I own four hundred and twenty shares of that company in a brokerage. My intent is to hold on to them for the long term possibly making someone richer at my own risk. I could short the entire next year to my heart’s content. My credit scores have gone through the roof. Nobody has had any answers for me on what to do. Nobody has coached me. I read. I think. I come up with solutions to my problems. And I put money in the right places. That doesn’t mean anything is a sure thing. Especially when my government finds it more advantageous to punish other countries while forgetting about it’s own people. I am absolutely in the dark about everything. Everything except running my own business in America. I already have income I have to report over the next three years due the CARES act. So that is income I will deduct. This is how it works here in America. You seize the means of production and you go to work. If it seems backward for me, you wouldn’t know the half. My life is so fucked up in terms of how hazy and confusing other people have made it. People invaded my life on pretenses that I can’t even begin to explain. And part of being a strong, responsible adult is engineering your way out of these problems. And for the most part, I’ve engineered myself into a fort that overlooks the CTA train. And a small portion of that fort can be written off as an office. Which in some ways if you do the math makes rent and utilities cheaper in the long run. I don’t make the rules. This is how America works. A LLC gets a tax id number. It allows you better options for retirement savings with a SEP IRA. You can apply for business accounts and waive taxes on business purchases. Even the family dollar around the corner has a sign in the window reminding me I can apply for tax free status. Maybe they’re mostly to blame for planting the idea in my head. I’m the one who made the call to apply. Nobody held my hand. You could also get audited by the IRS. And I’m sure the IRS would have to figure out how I got into this situation in the first place. Maybe they’d offer me a job. There’s other fantasies in my life I could imagine happening more than that waking nightmare. Like actually having money to retire. I could be travelling around the world cleaning up the mess mark to market accounting has left on big business. The scars on economies the rich have pock marked on the middle class. Or I could just keep generating income and be my own boss here in my kitchen. The one thing I do know is that is sexier to be confident enough to move ahead with your own plan slowly than to short a bunch of stocks disruptively and brag about it on the internet. You could call it my three year plan. Don’t ask me how bonds factor in that equation. I’m not a spy. What I am is a guy that is trying to be the solution and not the victim. And that guy doesn’t ever want to be a burden on the people I love. So that guy is going to keep doing what he does. And I’m not going to lie that you inspire me to do so. As sexy and confident as I’m born to be. <3 Tim
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
j2rkt
BUSKER MAIN
the-writer-blog-posts-blog
R.E.Penhaligon
ocrime577
Ocrime
pubolulalev
Untitled
ask-baby-miles
Ask Baby Miles