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whirlybirdwhat · 5 years ago

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flowers (still blooming)

Ace doesn’t know what his mother looks like. Makino met a woman twelve years ago.

(There are flowers in Rouge's hair.)

Read on AO3 for better quality!

Makino runs a bar – this is common knowledge to anyone who has ever visited Foosha.

She’s always behind the counter or at serving drinks, all with a kind smile and a laugh at hijinks. No one misbehaves, and there’s a shiny new gun behind the counter for any unwanted visitors.

(Rumor has it a pirate taught her how to shoot.)

She a barmaid and a bar tender and a bar owner – anything really. The Party Bar is her pride and joy.

And left over from her mother, a generation previous, it is her information hub as well.

People come in from all sorts of places for the taste of beers delivered directly by Vice Admiral hands and homebrews from the other side of the island. With them they bring stories, and tales, and wanted posters, secrets about criminals Makino has never known and praise for villains she never wants to meet. Alcohol loosens lips, and it’s an easy task to ask the right questions to get the right answers.

Makino’s smart. She knows the power she holds with all the information locked tight in her brain. She sends letters to Garp, sometimes, to warn about an upcoming raid on some poor island, and smiles at the news of the Hero of the Navy saving yet another place.

(She calls Shanks sometimes, to hear his voice, and to tell him that some upstart is planning on challenging him, to tell him that the Marines are planning some ambush but its only rookies, really, to tell him that she misses him and Luffy isn’t in Foosha much now a days, so can’t he come visit?

He doesn’t. But that’s okay.)

Wanted posters find their way onto the Party Bar’s walls, for one reason or another. A nice young man who tipped well, off to becoming a pirate, or a couple of scoundrels smacked down by Garp the Fist himself. Shanks is there, serious faced over a hefty bounty, with the rest of the crew smiling alongside him.

(A spot is reserved on the other wall for the bounty of three young to-be pirates – she can’t wait to see how high their bounties soar.)

It’s not often Makino looks through them, but then she meets Ace, whose face is so similar to one she has known before – one who smiled at her and gave her a hug when her mother didn’t bother paying attention to her.

Makino visit’s Luffy’s brothers, and cries, just a little bit, when she gets home.

Luffy is so happy but someone dear is gone.

Garp keeps secrets when he wants to but Makino knows how to get them out of him. A drop of knowledge here, a drink there, a smile, a private place with no prying ears, and the mention of grandsons is all it takes for the tears to well up in his eyes and for the words to spill out.

Ace, his first grandson’s name is, adopted or not, Portgas D. Ace –

All the information Makino wanted, really, but Garp keeps on talking –

Gol D. Ace, son of the Pirate King –

And Makino’s heart shatters.

(Like any bar, the Party Bar receives its fair share of unruly customers, those with cruel words on their tongues and hatred for people they have never met.

The Son of the King? They say, referring to the only king that ever really mattered. Hope he doesn’t exist! Should kill 'em if he does, sins of the father, right? Drown him at birth, noose around the neck, whatever works! Kid will turn out to be just as bad as his bastard father!)

Ace has demons in his eyes. Makino knows why.

Ace proudly calls himself Portgas D. Ace, so Makino has hope, and she loves this boy because he is Ace, the one who Luffy calls brother and the one who makes Luffy less lonely, and because Ace is a child and deserves love no matter what she thinks.

She works past the lump in her heart, when she gets home from that conversation from Garp, and opens the chest in her room.

(Tears drip from her eyes and the Party Bar is closed for the day, but that doesn’t matter.

Whatever has, in the face of this bloodline?)

Makino was seven when the woman came into town. She was the most beautiful woman Makino had ever seen, gliding into port with hair the color of morning skies and a dash of freckles across her cheek. A flower rose in her hair, vibrant and beautiful, and her smile changed her face into something different, something Makino wished she had. She was pregnant but didn’t stumble under the weight of her still small belly, and instead stood tall and imposing, almost as tall as Garp.

Portgas D. Rouge came into port like a storm and exited like a whisper

“Child,” she had said to the only one at port that day, Makino, playing in the waves. “Where is everyone?”

“At the bar,” Makino told her blindly, because Foosha was small and had no need for anyone to be wary of strangers.

(The era of pirates was beginning today after all.)

“The Pirate King is being executed – everyone’s watching it.”

It was strange, how people’s faces broke at the strangest things.

“My name is Rouge,” the woman introduced herself. “Will you take me to the bar?”

“Sure.” And Makino did.

(She grabbed Makino’s outstretched hand when Makino lead her to the bar, and didn’t let go when they were inside. Makino didn’t mind (her mother never held her hand anymore). Eventually, the woman, Rouge, lifted her up and placed her on her hip, so she could see the Pirate King.

(He looked big, up on that stage. Who could ever kill him?)

They stood in the back of the bar as Roger shouted his last words – You want my treasure? You can have it! I left everything I gathered together in one place. Now you'll just have to find it! – and an era was born with the death of one man.

Rouge cried when it happened, and Makino didn’t know why. She was smiling though, still smiling that beautiful smile she gave Makino, so she figured it was alright even as tears dripped from her face onto Makino’s hair.

She clung tighter to Rouge, hoping to give her some comfort.

(Hoping she could make this woman happy again.)

It worked, as they left the bar where people were cheering, screaming, at the death of a King. Rouge smiled and her tears mixed with the salt spray from the beach, as she and Makino played in the sand.

Rouge stayed for a week, playing with Makino and giving her more attention than anyone else ever did. She left a flower in her hair when she left, whispered secrets of men and women Makino had never known, and kissed her forehead when Makino went to sleep on her shoulder.

Makino loved her, didn’t you know?

(She left, and never came back.)

Makino knows the path to the bandit den like the back of her hand by now. She makes journeys up there in the middle of the week, when the bar is quiet, to give boys a well-cooked meal and some bandits some booze. Its tradition, at this point.

This isn’t her usual day, so it’s a miracle the boys are even at the bandit den (she had heard from an excited Luffy that they were hiding out in a tree house now.) They cheer at her presence and the meal she brought while Dadan gives her a curious look.

They are covered in bruises, a blessing from Garp before he visited Makino, but are still running around, screeching and wrestling in the mud.

Makino doesn’t mind, and in a quiet moment, takes Ace away to talk to him.

“Ace,” She starts, kneeling down to be at his level. “Garp told me about your parents.”

Ace locks up, body freezing as his eyes go wide. There’s terror in them, and Makino feels her heart break. His mouth opens and shuts, words not coming out, but that’s okay.

Makino knows his question.

“I don’t care, Ace, I still love you.”

His eyes well up and he bites his lip, like he can’t bear to believe it. He’s trying to stay strong, and Makino can’t help but wonder at how similar he is to his mother.

(The freckles are a spitting image of Rouge, and Makino can’t help but wonder what he would look like if he had his mother’s hair.)

Ace sniffles and she draws him in. He’s too flustered to fight back, to unused to hugs to hug back, but that’s why Makino drew him away from everyone else.

Her shoulder grows wet from his tears as she gently brushes his hair back. “Shh. It’s okay, Ace. It’s okay.” When he grows quiet, eyes dried up, just a little, she says what she truly came up here to do.

“I have a present for you.”

He lifts his head up, face curious. “More clothes?”

“No, silly.” She laughs and then laughs again at the redness of his face. “Do you know what your mother looked like?”

Ace shakes his head, stilling. “No. Shitty Gramps told me stories though…”

And by the tone in his voice, it’s probably stories of his birth – not the ones Rouge told Makino on Foosha’s beaches twelve years ago. She’s going to have to fix that.

Makino pulls the old and faded paper out of her pocket. “Here”

Ace takes one look at the poster and promptly breaks again

Two weeks after Rouge left Foosha, the News Coos brings another round of papers. Everyone scrambles for one, eager to hear what has happened since the Pirate King fell, but Makino is lucky enough to grab her mother’s copy.

Her reading isn’t the best now, but she likes looking at the wanted posters that come with them. There are so many new pirates now

The wanted poster that falls out is a new one, an updated one, with a face Makino hasn’t seen on a wanted poster before - but has seen in reality, cupped in her hands and counted the freckles of a stranger’s face

‘SEA STORM’ PORTGAS D. ROUGE - WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE: 1.5 BILLION BERRIES

Rouge... the pregnant woman who laughed and dance with Makino as if she was her own child. is wanted? is a pirate? Why?

Makino can’t fathom it and worries for the woman who she had known for a week.

She hopes she’s alive

She hopes she comes back

(She asks Garp about the woman, once, and some strange happenings run across his face, like worry and concern and anger all at once. He curses then interrogates Makino about everything she knows about the woman, which she tells him, trembling. Her mother scolds her for being dishonest but Garp thanks her, tells her she’s keeping her safe. That Rouge will be safe.

Makino is thankful.)

Raids start for the pirate Kings son the next week. Makino stays at home, afraid and hidden as soldiers interrogate every woman on the isle, how long they been there, if any people visited port before the capture of the king.

She hopes Rouge, regnant and tall and bold, escapes it.

Her bounty comes in again with a New Coo a year later, when raids have died down, and Makino is sure she’s alive.

1.7 billion, and she’s smiling.

Rouge survived. Makino can’t wait to see her again.

(That is the last picture she ever gets of Rouge. It’s not put up with the others when Makino takes over the bar at 16. It’s much too precious for that. instead, she hides it in her chest of precious things in her room, taking care to make sure the paper doesn’t crumble or fray. It’s a treasure she doesn’t admit to having, and dream she doesn’t say to the world but keeps close to her heart.)

Makino sees ace and knows Rouge didn’t survive for that woman, who played with her when no one else would, would never abandon her child willingly.

The wanted poster is faded but the picture is still clear through meticulous care. a woman stares out from in, angled away from the camera but with her face fully visible. her hair flows in the morning light of the picture, pink against the sea in the background, and freckles dash across her face. she’s closed mouth but smiling eye amused but with one eyebrow raised. A hibiscus, pink and blooming, is nestled in her hair. Her skin is warm and glowing and she looks like an older Ace.

Its Rouge, queen of the seas.

Its Rouge, Aces mother.

In the wanted poster he takes gently from Makino, he sees his mother for the first time.

“Mom?” he croaks out, voice shaky and so, so hopeful. Makino hums, and settles in, guiding Ace to sit next to her as they stare at the wanted poster.

“Yes. When I was girl she visited this island... you look just like her, you know? I knew it was her the moment I saw you.”

“What... what was she like?” Aces voice is soft and hopeful as he traces the bounty number, so unbelievably high for someone he has never heard of.

Makino smiles. “She was kind, so unbelievably kind, to me at least. Just wandered into Foosha one day and took my hand – I think she was pregnant with you at the time, isn’t that fun?”

Ace gives a tiny smile, eyes wide and big as he stares at her. He hangs onto every word, trying to show that he isn’t lest she decides not to tell it, which she never would, but it’s endearing all the same.

“But to others,” Makino continues, “She was the storm at sea. Sea Storm Rouge, the papers called her, a legend known by the burning flower in her hair. She would appear like a maelstrom at sea, suddenly there before you could blink and taking down ships at a speed no one could rival save for a select few. She would free slaves from nobles in the same breath she took off with all their loot. She took nothing lying down.”

Sabo and Luffy sneak in to their tiny clearing and find their place next to Ace, knowing there’s a story to be told and not willing to miss it. She laughs at their curious expressions, and continues wither her tale of the woman she might have called mother as Ace pulls his brothers in close.

“She told me once of how she stared a sea king the size of an island down because he was bothering her morning meal…”

Rouge leaves in the quiet moments of dawn, when the sun is only barely rising and all is quiet save for the fishermen already out in the waters.

She takes Makino with her, out to the shore, taking her by the hand and leading her out as the girl rubbed sleep from her eyes.

There’s sadness in Rouge, Makino notes as they leave, passing by houses and towards the abandon beach half a mile from Foosha.

She doesn’t like the sadness there, but she senses it’s not her job to get rid of it – it’s the selfish kind of sadness, the kind that comes with loving some great.

(Makino’s young, but all the children of this world know that feeling.)

They watch the sunrise together in front of Rouge’s small ship, and lean into each other. Rouge’s hand braids Makino’s hair as she plays with the sword handle at the woman’s hip.

“Rouge,” She asks, quiet. It’s not the time for loudness. “Why are you leaving?”

Why are you leaving me?

(Makino’s mother runs the Party Bar and doesn’t leave time for anyone else. Her father isn’t around and the closest she has is Garp and Woopslap, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. Not next to this stranger who has told her of legends and let her hold her hand and dance under the stars. It’s not enough to the raging storm of Rouge’s love.)

Rouge smiles, face softening as she finishes tying off Makino’s braid. “I have to, to keep those I love safe. If I fight, I can win, but others won’t. And I won’t hurt them for their selflessness.”

“But what if its selfishness?”

What if I want you here for me?

Rouge rests a hand on her stomach and one on Makino’s head, and the world seems to still. There’s a pressure from Rouge, one that seems to make the light from the sun flicker under the force from it. It relents, after a moment, but Makino feels safe.

Secure.

Rouge loves her.

“Then you must live with that selfishness, like I do mine.” Her voice is soft. Makino takes the words and keeps them in her heart. It’s hers.

The sun is half over the horizon now. Rouge gets up, and lifts Makino from the railing where they sit to put her on the sandy ground. They are both barefoot, now, having run in the sand half an hour before, and their toes sink into sand as water runs over their toes.

It’s a peaceful kind of ending.

Rouge kneels, soaking her pants in the shore to look Makino in her eyes. She pulls the flower out of her hair, still immaculately pristine and beautiful, and places it behind Makino’s ear. “A gift,” she says, and kisses Makino on the forehead, “so you don’t forget me, alright?”

Makino nods and knows she never will.

No one but Makino knows the Maelstrom of the Grand Line was on Dawn Island, but as Rouge sails off into the raising son, one child left behind and one yet to be born, she finds that’s quite alright.

She was there, and that was enough.

(Never, her selfish heart whispers, never enough.)

Ace is the only one still awake by the time Makino tells the last of her few tales. He’s tired, clearly, resting heavily on Sabo as Luffy rests in his lap, but he keeps on blinking his eyes open. The sun is setting now, and Makino must really be going, but she has one last thing to show him.

“Come on,” She says, pulling Ace up and leaving his brothers to collapse on each other. “I have another gift for you.”

Ace looks at the wanted poster still held so gently in his hands, and follows into the woods.

There’s a field on the west side of the island, the cliffside above the shore half a mile from Foosha. Its filled with beautiful hibiscuses the shades of vibrant pink.

Ace had seen it before, on his ventures.

But now, Makino shows him the truth.

“Your mother gave me her flower, one of them at least, that was in that poster. It started wilting after a few days, so I found a way to replant the seeds and pressed the original… they quickly spread over the valley…”

The sun makes them burn like fire, and Makino sees the love of a mother reflected in Ace’s eyes.

Saltwater falls down her cheeks as she sees Ace take a flower like it is the most precious thing in the world (like Makino had treated the flower Rouge gave her) and place it in his hair. It’s just long enough in the step that it nestles gently in his hair, and he smiles, so happily, like she hasn’t seen him do unless he’s with his brothers.

Tears mirror hers on his cheeks and suddenly she’s staring at Rouge on the day she met her.

He gives her a flower next, and they walk under the setting sun to Dadan’s hut with Rouge’s love intertwined in their hair.

Makino is a bartender, which means she keeps information, and it means she inherited the place where she met a woman who changed her life.

She sees Ace off on the same shore she saw Rouge off, and cries and waves with joy in every moment. He sails into the sun, brilliant and bold, as flowers float around the waiting crowd, and she’s so, so happy.

She is a bartender so she gets the wanted posters two months later first: information is key, after all.

The poster is put up on the reserved wall, a place of pride for three two boys.

Fire Fist Ace, it declares, Captain of the Spades Pirates WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE!

The picture on it is a smiling boy on fire, freckled and smiling. His hat has two charms around it and a wreath of beads is around his neck, a gift from his bandit mother. Expected, for a runaway pirate.

Intertwined in the hat and in his hair, however, are brilliant pink hibiscuses – a tribute to a woman forgotten by the world.

(The rumors Makino hears tell of a boy who doesn’t care what you do to him, but if you harm his crew or the flowers on his ship and hat, there will be hell to pay from a boy made of fire.)

Makino thinks Rouge would be proud.

“Rouge? What are you going to name your baby?”

“Ann if it’s a girl. I would name her Makino, but I think the one I know is great enough!”

“Sesesese! And if it’s a boy?”

“Then Ace! That’s the name his father loved – it’s a good name, don’t you think? I love him already.”

“Can I be his big sister?”

“Of course.”

(Makino is a bartender, and that mean Makino has connections.

She asks Shanks to fill Ace’s grave with pink hibiscuses, and for Rayleigh to give Luffy a bouquet of them to give to the cracks in the Earth at Marineford.

It’s not nearly enough, but she will be selfish, just this once, and will cry about it.)

She names her child Ann and calls her my little sea storm, my little flower.

She knows Rouge would be proud.

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toonytoodles · 3 years ago

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Here's another round of "these would be head canons except it's canon" or "random ideas I had and wrote down and I'm posting them to keep track of all my thoughts"

Sofia always gets a little nervous when walking up or down stairs, she's terrified to fall, unfortunately her room is upstairs, and no one knows of this fear

Pond has submechanaphobia (the fear of underwater objects)

Ponds younger sibling Brook has "nicknames" for her and her friends.

"Pon," "Avey," "Memma," "Fia," "Cememine," and the calls both the twins "Anby-n-Anby"

Pond can size shift in a way, being able to be small enough to fit in a glass, or be as big as a lake, she can change her size shape and form under the right conditions, but prefers not to

Andie doesn't swim- it's not that she doesn't know how, she just doesn't like getting wet, and she doesn't like swimsuits

Avery gets bored and thinks about random stuff a lot

The twins have done that cat nose boop to their friends, they were all touched by the sentiment, except for Avery who had to have it explained to her, then she happy-cried about it

Andie and Andy snuggle like actual cats do, often purring as they sleep

Andie is the older and more assertive twin

Every time Andie gets deadnamed Emma looms over the person with an angry look and just says "Her name is Andie." In a dead serious tone. It doesn't happen as often anymore, but I like to think after they run in terror, Emma checks to see if Andie is okay, then needs to be reassured that she's not actually that scary

Sometimes the others can't understand Avery due to her accent, to everyone else it's kinda funny, (though Emma does try REALLY hard to understand), but Avery gets kinda mad, especially if it's important or if she's already upset. Shes especially hard to understand if she's upset/panicking, it kind of sounds like gibberish at that point. That's usually when she gets pancaked by Em.

When Emma first met Sofia she PANICKED cause she had no idea what a dullahan was. Emma just started screaming and panicking, until Clementine and Avery calmed her down and slowly explained that she was fine, that she's supposed to have her head off. Emma didn't completely get it at first, but she's slowly adjusted to it and she understands it now, but then she was so scared. She's really really embarrassed by it, and feels bad about it, and Sofia was scared of her too, so it was just really awkward at first. They're cool now, but at first they wanted to run away from each other upon seeing the other

Avery doesn't like jewelry- it's too much sensory wise, she doesn't like the feel of rings, bracelets, or necklaces, and she can't wear earrings, they won't pierce through her scales

Avery absent mindedly lays on her stomach and is always wearing something that covers her stomach- she doesn't realize it, but it's a survival instinct, as her stomach is one of her biggest weak points. She's almost physically incapable of lying on her back, she can only do it when she's in a safe calm environment where she feels she can't be hurt. But again, this all happens subconsciously, she doesn't notice that she's doing it. Her other huge weak point is her tail, it's important to her balance, and it's directly connected to her spine, so should anything happen to her tail, it could be life or death. This one she is aware of, but there are other reasons she doesn't like people touching her tail in addition to the danger it puts her in. It's uncomfortable for her, it's hers and it's weird to her if you touch it. It's uncomfortable on a couple of levels, it feels uncomfortable and is literally uncomfortable, leave her tail alone. The only exception to this is Emma, and only because it can't always be helped, she might touch her tail some when she sits on her hand. But Emma tries to touch is as little as possible, as she knows how bad it bothers her. (also Avery can lay on her back in Emma's pocket)

Sapphire has a Scottish accent- that's where Avery got it from

Emma and Avery do eventually become a couple, they're just anxious and beat around the bush about it for a while. They're too nervous to tell each other, they're worried about rejection, ruining their friendship, and being good enough for the other. Once they're dating it doesn't change much, except they do call hanging out with each other dates and occasionally do couple things (and Avery does kiss her at one point, which Emma gets all flustered about)

Andie and Andy are identical twins

Andies enchanted flute can implant suggestions into people's minds, and she has the ability to talk to/understand feral animals, this is all she can do because she doesn't want to put in the effort to learning more, and 90% of the time she forgets she can do either

They all have a favorite ice cream flavor!

Avery - Moon berry ice cream with chunks of hot pepper and hot fudge on top

Emma - Chocolate with fudge chunks and chocolate syrup on top

Sofia - Vanilla

Clementine - Coffee flavored ice cream with chocolate syrup and marshmallows

Andie - Neapolitan, preferably in a sundae

Andy - Strawberry with strawberry syrup and when possible, strawberries on top

Andie is secretly scared of balloons

Emma's shoes are slip ons

Andie gets vocal training to sound more feminine, Andy pays for the classes out of his allowance

Emma's house has small platforms and walkways for beans. One of these elevated walk ways leads into Emma's room, where there's a small cubby hole that's a make shift room for beans. Emma set it up for Avery to give her some space when she comes over, she has a big family, and everyone in the family is big, and they all want Averys attention- it can be a bit much. When Avery is in the small room she's officially off limits, with Emma being close by to ward off her siblings. Emma worries about her small friends safety, and sanity, and tries to make accommodations for her, both with her size and her needs.

Averys stims/ticks are: Hand flapping, tail wagging, she has a pressure stim that helps her calm down, her feet claws dig at the ground absent mindedly, her leg bounces when she sits, she pulls on her hair, ocassionally grunts and/or whines, will scream at the top of her lungs when she's pushed past her limit, and rarely, but sometimes she randomly twitches/flinches, and hates when people point it out, like, she's not spasming on purpose, you don't have to be a jerk about it... Emma doesn't stand for it either, so people will shut up about it quickly. Avery doesn't have anything diagnosed, but it's very possible that she has adhd, a sensory processing disorder, an anxiety disorder, and/or is somewhere on the spectrum. I'm not going to officially diagnose her with anything, most of these things are based off myself, and I feel that they also apply to her. These seem very in character, Avery is impulsive, can't sit still, does things without thinking/ not realizing she's doing it, she can't stand certain feelings/sensations/ textures/ tastes, etc., she panics kind of easily, and it escalates quickly, she has several stims/ticks that she uses for basically every emotion, she likes to enclose herself in comfortable small spaces, she has certain people she goes to for comfort, this is all canon already, I've discussed most of it before, I just thought I'd try to list it all out for my own reference

In Averys particular subspecies, there's no way to tell what the sex of the draconic is before it hatches. Her parents debated on a while about various male/female names, but they didn't want to keep referring to the egg as "the egg," or "the baby," as they didn't just think of the egg as an object, so they decided wanted on a gender neutral name for the egg so it could work for either, eventually deciding on Avery

Emma has anxiety about accidentally hurting her small friends, sometimes causing nightmares and makes her want to distance herself from them

Emma doesn't like being upside down (she learned this when she accidentally shrunk herself down to borrower size and Avery accidentally picked her up upside down in a panic)

After buying new clothes, Sofia often sets her head on her bed then does a small fashion show to see how it looks on her- she finds it's one of the few benefits of being a dullahan

Clementine LOVES mind puzzles and being able to problem solve, anything that poses a challenge excites her

Sofia often carries her pet snake on her shoulders, wearing her ball python as a boa

Avery loves sour candy, Emma prefers chocolate, Clementine likes m&ms and small candies that can be eaten while studying, also she considers grass and raisins a candy, something that is a debate amongst her friends, Sofia likes gummies, Andie likes candy bars, and Andy likes hard candies, Pond doesn't eat, so she can't eat candy, but would absolutely love chocolate covered almonds if she could taste them

Pond can do impressions- she often likes to mimic Avery and Andie because she finds accents funny, for some reason? She doesn't really know what it is about them, she just finds them hilarious

Emma is determined to find a way to hug Pond, she will hug water, she'll figure it out someday...

Out of all their friends, Emma only trusts herself to help Avery when she really needs it. It's not that she doesn't trust anyone else, it's just that, well, she doesn't think her friends can handle it. Emma's little brother Aaron has a lot of the same struggles as Avery, so Emma's a little more knowledgeable and understanding than the others. Not to say that the others aren't understanding, but they're often confused or flustered or even scared of Averys behavior sometimes, whereas Emma sees her struggling and attempts to help. The others can't do much most of the time, whereas Emma can help her out by giving her a small squish to help her decompress, put her in her pocket when she needs to be alone, she's scared, upset, tired, etc.,and knows how to talk to her to help her calm down, and she's good at figuring out what it is that she needs/wants when she gets too elevated and is panicking and/or shutting down

#toonytoodlesoc #original character #oc #avery trowbridge #amelia mcconnel #sofia hodges #clementine moores #pond the elemental #andy and andie #andie & andy

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fericita-s · 5 years ago

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There’ll Be Dancing

Another story for the When all is Lost series that @the-spastic-fantastic and I have been torturing each other with. Major thanks to her for helping me get this story to where it is!

This is set before In Vino Veritas, during Agnarr’s 18th birthday celebration. The link to When All is Lost above goes to AO3, where all of the stories are in in order.

***

In the spring of 1843, the arrival of a new ship in the Arendelle harbor did not signify a new shipment of goods. Instead, it heralded the arrival of a new princess or lady or ridiculously wealthy daughter of a foreign merchant on her way to meet the king. Henrik tried to be present in the castle for as many of these visits as possible, dressed in his most fashionable attire with his hair slicked back. “You can’t marry them all, Agnarr, maybe one will see me and decide she can do better anyway!”

Agnarr was glad someone was having fun with this procession of women. His councilors, especially Captain Calder, impressed upon him the need to woo the kingdoms and merchants, if not the women. “It’s a sign of respect to host their eligible women and entertain the notion of marriage alliance and preferred trading status. This is delicate work, renegotiating trade agreements and tariffs,” Captain Calder had told him privately. “You be attentive to them and I will be attentive to the details of our kingdom’s interests.” Agnarr didn’t bother asking if his interests mattered. He knew it was his duty to maintain strong trade partners and forge new defense pacts with kingdoms known for military prowess. Arendelle had recovered well from its dark days following the Northern Expedition, but it remained a small kingdom with its security based on economic growth. Safe only so long as its ships carried goods all over Europe, supplying the continent’s booming population with ice and other essential exports.

Agnarr wasn’t particularly excited about the prospect of marrying someone in order to keep Arendelle strong. But, a marriage could quell worries that a neighboring country would become a hostile country. The Southern Isles were growing more powerful, Weselton always had an eye on expanding its influence, and any number of rich foreigners could bring new business and industry to Arendelle if marriage to the king was the incentive. Lady Wollen had carefully explained to him, while warning not to let it go to his head, that he was considered quite the eligible, young bachelor. In her role as Minister of State, she had been fielding numerous diplomatic match-making inquiries for the past four years. He understood. He was the king.

But every time he took Duchess Alexsandra from Weselton on a riding tour of the coast, or Lady Tunde on a bird watching trip within the castle grounds, or Princess Erzsebet on a walk to visit the new chocolate shop in the village, what filled his mind was visions of Iduna with her bare feet in the grass, picking up a worm and studying it. Iduna climbing a tree to better see the setting sun. Iduna directing where the gardens should be planted and which berries should be collected and which herbs were best for medicinal teas. Iduna, who had also been without a family too young, and who also knew what it was to be lonely and alone.

What he really wanted was to know if Iduna would be his wife. The council might not suggest it outright, but they wouldn’t prevent him from marrying someone of his own choice. A few times he had tried to talk to her about it. Before Princess Erzsebet’s ship arrived, he had asked Iduna to go with him to the chocolate shop to be sure it was suitable for his foreign guest. He had even tried to broach the subject of courtship and marriage, but it had not gone well. He went over the conversation in his mind again, trying to figure out how he could have been more clear about his feelings for her. He was able to communicate well in council meetings and when addressing his people as their King. So why was he always so inept around Iduna when it came to this part of his heart?

He thought he had started off rather chivalrously and very kingly, pulling out a chair for her and buying her several squares of different chocolate to taste. “Thank you for coming here with me. I know how hard it is for you to take time off from the apothecary.”

Iduna had smiled, one of her genuine, happy smiles and answered, “Oh, it’s not as busy as running a kingdom, but it’s nice to take a break! And this chocolate is delicious. I’ve been wanting to try this new shop for some time. It’s really lovely.”

Agnarr had been relieved their time together still felt as easy as it had when they were younger. He too smiled as he spoke. “Oh good, I wanted to be sure Princess Erzebet will be impressed. Captain Calder keeps telling me how important it is for us to maintain a good relationship with The Southern Isles, and if I accidentally poison her when she arrives in a few days, I think he might find a way to fire me.”

Agnarr had expected her to laugh at that, and was surprised when she stopped eating her piece of chocolate, put the remainder on her plate, and wiped her mouth. He continued talking to cover the sudden silence, offering her a piece of his chocolate. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned poison while they were eating. “He’s really been concerned about a good alliance through marriage. I know the kingdom needs heirs and it’s expected of me, but it feels so strange to be sized up like a prize horse. I think, though, if I told him I preferred to decide on my own and wanted to pay formal court to one person, he would drop these scheduled visits. Do you think – “

But Iduna had cut him off, suddenly remembering that Mr. Visser needed her to restock the supplies that day. He had wanted to say that when he thought of what was best for him and what was best for Arendelle, it was her. That if she would have him, he would refuse any more visits from any more eligible ladies, and tell his council to make trade deals and alliances without the promise of marriage muddling it up.

Iduna, while open about so much - what she thought about steam locomotives or crop rotation or the latest novel from Denmark - did not say or even hint what she might be feeling about him. Ever. In his own clumsy way he had tried to ask over the years, but it came out wrong, or not at all, or she quickly changed the conversation. One day, before she had even taken the position at Visser’s Apothecary and was just starting to consider leaving the orphanage they had been having a particularly rousing debate on the benefits of expanding aquaculture versus funding deep sea fishing ventures. He followed her to the courtyard and asked her what her plans were for the future. “Do you think you will stay in Arendelle? I mean, I would like you to stay, and I think it would benefit the kingdom.” He had tried to take her hand, but she backed away, saying “Of course I’ll stay, no need to grab me to keep me here! I don’t think I could bear to leave my garden,” and he was left opening and closing his hand, as if he was just flexing his hand muscles while out for a walk on the grounds.

Now, as his eighteenth birthday was drawing close, the castle was to host a ball in celebration. All of the ladies who had visited previously would be making return trips, with several new ones attending to be presented for the first time. Agnarr had also secured places on the guest list for the graduates of the Royal Academy, Arendelle’s pride and hope for the future. Today Iduna was meeting him in the gardens – her gardens – to help him select the bouquets for the visiting dignitaries and ladies.

He met her at the castle gate and thanked her for coming. She seemed a bit more formal than usual. Perhaps whatever was bothering her the day they spent at the chocolate shop had not been resolved. As they walked the rows, he tried to start one of their easy and lively conversations by saying “Lady Wollen says the ladies should know that I picked the flowers, it makes it more meaningful. “

Instead of making a joke, or telling him the history and husbandry of the roses in the castle garden, Iduna sighed and straightened, putting a hand over her eyes to shield from the sun. He realized how inconsiderate he was being at once.

“Forgive me, you’ve been standing all day and the apothecary, you must be tired. Let’s go sit on the porch and I’ll have Gerda bring us something to drink.”

Iduna nodded, though he noticed it was unenthusiastic. Very well, perhaps something sweet like lemonade would be the remedy. Gerda was quick to see to their needs and soon they were drinking comfortably in the shade.

“I’m glad you plan to come to my birthday ball. Lady Wollen went over the guest list with me this morning.”

Iduna smiled, though it was a guarded one. One that he had seen her use with particularly trying customers, but never with him. “Yes, your majesty, I’m happy to come and celebrate your birthday. Though I’m sure with so many visitors, you won’t have much time for the academy crowd.”

“Of course I will! You’re the only ones who will make it bearable. Besides, even though it’s my birthday, I’ll be giving out gifts that night and I have a special one for you.”

Some of her genuine smile returned. “Oh? And will it be a gold hammer? Or a golden bicycle wheel? What wonderful golden gift did you think of this time?”

He was relieved to have her tease him, to be playful rather than pained in her expression. “I gave you one bad gift, one time!” He laughed and blushed. “Will you ever let me forget that mortar and pestle?’

“That depends. Do you plan on giving me anything worse?” her smile was full now, she was enjoying this.

“Actually, it is gold, at least partly.” She laughed again, and it was like being fourteen again when he could tell her anything. “Iduna, I know what I really want for my birthday. And I know what I’d like to give you. I hope you’ll like it.” She could see that he wasn’t teasing anymore, and had trouble meeting his eyes as he continued. He noticed a flush on her cheeks, and wondered if the sun had been too strong for her while they were in the sunlight of the garden.

“I know it must seem strange that all of these ladies keep coming to the castle, and that I have to spend so much time with them. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even know how to talk to women at all! And what I really want is for your help always, in – “

But before he could continue, Iduna spilled her glass of lemonade, jumped up with apologies, and excused herself to go home. “I’ll see you at the ball. I promise I won’t miss it.”

***

The day of the ball was tortuous, having to try on the different coats and trousers and hats, and each time pinning on the military medals that he hadn’t earned. Captain Calder insisted on that. “It shows that, though young, you are a serious man and should be treated as such. You’ve seen battle.” Agnarr resisted pointing out that he hadn’t seen battle. He had been unconscious. And fourteen. And would have been useless even if he hadn’t been hit on the head immediately during the massacre. But he knew Captain Calder meant well, and he knew this night was more for Arendelle’s alliances to celebrate the strength of their bond than a celebration of his eighteenth birthday. It was fine. It was part of being king.

As he stood at the receiving line, trying to remember the names of each visiting lady and each citizen, he kept looking for Iduna. He had arranged with Maddie and Greet that he would pay for all three of their gowns, as long as they didn’t let Iduna know the money came from him. They were to tell her that their seamstress friend was able to procure fabric and patterns for a fraction of the normal price. Iduna remained mostly indifferent to fashion, and was satisfied to follow her friends’ lead on what to wear. Agnarr had heard reports from Maddie that the dresses were beautiful, and that Iduna looked exquisite in her midnight blue gown.

She did. It took his breath away as he caught sight of her entering the ballroom, in a way both familiar and surprising. She had always seemed to make the air around him feel different. Tonight he ached to look at her. Her hair was swept off of her shoulders, and her bare neck was a revelation. How had he known her for four years and never known her neck to be so beautiful, so smooth, so inviting?

As she came through the line, and took her hand in his, their gloves touched briefly, and then were apart. He remembered how often they had held hands on their explorations of the woods, years ago when she still lived at Eir’s, and how he had mourned the loss of her touch when it stopped. How nice it would be to take her hand whenever he wished, to go through an event like this with her beside him. They could make a game of counting ugly hats, or wager on which duke’s shoes had the highest heel. He had to hold her hand again, and soon. He had dozens of gifts to give out, dozens of women he was assigned to dance with, and dozens of dignitaries left to greet. But if he didn’t hold her hand again, he didn’t think he could do anything else.

He bowed to her. “Will you dance with me?”

Iduna curtsied. “Your majesty, they aren’t playing music yet.”

“They will if we start dancing. It’s my party after all.” He took her hand again, and felt his whole body relax as he did. After a day and evening of adhering to protocol, he felt like he was himself again. Not just figurehead King Agnarr, but Agnarr who liked to explore and learn with his best friend. He understood who he was more deeply when Iduna was with him.

He led her to the dance floor, and when he indicated, the orchestra began to play a waltz. She arranged her skirt and then put her free hand on his shoulder. He liked the sensation of her light touch on his shoulder; it was like she was keeping him steady, keeping him on the ground. He knew from the dance lessons overseen by Lady Wollen that his hand should go on her waist, but it felt strange to hold her there. It was a closer, more intimate touch than they had ever had, and he inhaled sharply as his hand settled there. She too seemed startled, though not unwelcoming, of it, and smiled at him in a way he couldn’t identify. He thought he knew all of her smiles, but this one was new. As they began the easy steps of the waltz, other couples joined them on the dance floor to do the same.

He liked how his mouth was close to her ear, how he could see the individual strands of her hair making up her braided coronet. He had never been this close to her, and as they danced, he felt the weight of unsaid things and unspoken hopes. He gripped her more tightly, and then relaxed his hold, worried she would notice his behavior and find it odd. Lady Wollen had not spent years training him in the etiquette of formal state affairs for him to act like a confused child with his most cherished friend. Usually, Iduna would be the one he told about feeling inadequate to the kingly duty weighing on him, but in this instance, when she was what he was feeling unsure about, he did not know what to do. So instead of speaking, he savored their closeness, the feel of her hand in his, her smile as she caught his eye. As the song drew to a close, he cleared his throat and spoke. “After this, I’ll have to dance with the others. But I wanted to give you your gift. You might want to wear it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I did come wearing something already. Something that I suspect you had something to do with.”

“And if I did?” He didn’t want to admit to anything, not until he knew how she felt about. Would she be grateful? Resentful? He knew how much she hated depending on others for her needs. Back when she started working at Mr. Visser’s, she had begun paying Eir a weekly stipend to pay back the time she had spent in her care.

“If you did, I would say thank you, your majesty. You are a kind and thoughtful king, as I am sure these ladies vying for your attention will soon find out.”

Encouraged by her acceptance of the dress, he led her away from the dance floor and into a small alcove with a balcony, already regretting the loss of his hand at her waist and hers on his shoulder. His hand felt hot through his glove, and he felt like he was fourteen again, worried that she would feel his sweat and drop his hand. He dropped her hand for a moment to reach into his pocket, and hand her the necklace he had ordered made for her. It was an imprint of a fossil they had found out on a skerry, about half an inch long and in the perfect shape of a very small shell, set in gold with a delicate chain. “Is this to your liking?”

He expected a joke about it being gold, or a comment that it wasn’t a good way to preserve a fossil. Instead, she swallowed a few times, blinked twice, and said “It’s lovely. Will you put it on me?”

Iduna turned her back to him so he could fasten the necklace around her neck. It was dizzying standing behind her, with her hair so close to his face, her neck to close to his mouth. He felt like they were still dancing but to music to which he did not know the steps. He clasped the chain, taking several attempts as his gloved hands felt clumsy and uncertain. She touched the medallion and turned. “It’s beautiful. I love it. Thank you.”

It was all the words he wanted to say, but he found he couldn’t. He stared at her, longing to take her hand, and unsure if she would want him to. She met his eyes, and he wasn’t sure what to read into them. “Iduna, I – “

Lady Wollen interrupted. “Oh Iduna, don’t you look lovely! Agnarr, I’m sure you remember you must dance with our guests. I believe Lady Tunde was first on your dance card?” Lady Tunde was with Lady Wollen, and rather unhappily took notice of Iduna’s necklace. He thought he saw her scowling at the crocus pin she wore, the same gift he had given every lady visiting from foreign shores.

“Yes, of course,” Agnarr bowed to Iduna, gave her a smile of apology, and followed Lady Wollen to his assigned partner. He followed his dance card the rest of the night, but did not see Iduna again. Had she left early? Taken a walk in the garden with Maddie and Greet? Did she truly like the necklace?

***

The next morning, a gift appeared outside his bedroom room. A jar of lutefisk, a lumpy package wrapped in paper, and a note in Iduna’s handwriting. “So you will always remember ‘The Incident’ and so you will always remember me.” He unwrapped the paper and found a heavy stone, a fossil sunken in on one side, with the spiraling shape of an ancient sea creature. It was one they had found together, and never figured out exactly what it was called. A thing that had been alive, and left proof all these years later that it had lived and left its mark. He ran his fingers over it, liking the feel of it, but wishing for her hand again.

#when all is lost #king agnarr #iduna #agduna #mama and papa arendelle #royal ball

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aralty · 6 years ago

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Never Doubt It || P. Jimin

Summary: Your friendship with Jimin wasn't that bad, it was full of insults, sarcasm and peculiar meals. The fact that he was a vampire never touched you that much, you trusted him with all your heart. But sometimes instincts got the best of him, especially when you got hurt.

Genre: Supernatural, a bit of Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Y/N x Vampire Jimin

Warnings: Cursing, a tiny bit of blood

Author’s Note: Hi beautiful people🌈

Here you have a request with a Vampire Jimin, hope you like it!

If you want to request something here you can see what I write and for who.

All the love🌹

"Could you please get the fuck out my view? I'm trying to watch something and that sure isn't your nice ass".

Your sour tone brought a smirk on Jimin's lips as he moved away from the TV and placed himself on the couch, beside you. "I know I've got a cute ass, no need to tell me. And by the way, I'm pretty sure you actually enjoy looking at it, don't you."

"Jimin, you're gross." you replied as a chip hit him in his chest, and turned your attention to the movie. He took the chip and threw it back at you with disgust all over his face. "God as long as you eat like this your blood must taste like shit" he said.

"Oh right, well let me make a veggie and healthy meal while you prepare to suck the blood from my veins, what do you think?" you replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Wouldn't taste your blood even if you payed me."

"The girl from last week must have tasted amazing then. Did you pay to have sex with you? You haven't been successful while hitting on a girl for months".

He looked at you in disbelief as you mimed your words "Mic drop baby".

Your relationship with Jimin was nothing out of the ordinary: just two cocky, sarcastic bestfriends that their only way of expressing love was through insults and comebacks. The only thing that diversified your relationship from others' was that Jimin was a vampire.

You had known him since the first year of high school: you thought he was a nice guy, a bit stupid at times (that sure hadn't changed in the next years) but nothing extraordinary.Well, let's just say that after you saw him poking a girl's neck with his fags you never looked at him in the same way. Him being a vampire didn't scare you that much: at first you of course were terrified he would have sucked the soul out of your body, but after he reassured you he would have never hurt you, it didn't bother you anymore.

In years you two had built a strong and beautiful friendship: to other it may have looked like you two couldn't stand each other, but it wasn't true. You joked around a lot, you insulted each other way too frequently, but when one or the other needed help in any way, you were always there to help. You were never one to crave the perfect relationship: all you needed was a couch, something to watch, something to gossip about and a fidelty car of the Japanese restaurant at the corner of your street; apparently it was one of the only places Jimin could get blood without having to hurt anyone, plus the food was amazing so that place was a catch. The first time Jimin had brought you there, you actually thought they killed people to get that blood, but when he saw the terrified expression on your pale face he reassured you that the blood they sold only came from animals.

"There's a difference between human and animal blood?" you asked him once, while he was taking you home. "Human tastes better. Too bad I can't go around the town biting people and then murdering them". "Yeah, probably not the best idea."

"You should really stop eating so much sushi, you're gonna become a huge ball of rice". His annoyed tone came to your ears as you were eating your dinner.

"Did you say something? Sorry, I was busy enjoying my meal." you said to him with a fake smile. He rolled his eyes. "Namjoon is gonna host a party tomorrow night. I know it's Wednesday night, and we never go out during the week but since none of us has to work or go to school the next day, I was thinking we could go." he proposed as he sipped from his cup of "berry smoothie" that the owner had poured in a Pepsi cup, covered with a lid.

"Damn boy, so eager to get laid that you're starting to go to parties during the week" you said wiggling your brows to him as you placed your elbows on the table of the restaurant. "Y/N..." he said with a roll of his eyes."Plus, who the fuck does parties on Wednesdays?!".

"C'mon, it's just for one night. It could be fun, Joon always organizes lit parties.".

"Too bad the boys are always trash" you said with an innocent look as you sipped loudly your drink. He didn't respond, he just began looking at you with those puppy eyes. "Oh no, puppy eyes don't work with me, Park Jimin" you said confident and you continued eating, but the weight of his eyes on your head was getting heavier. You lifted your head so that you were looking into his eyes, but after a few seconds you gave up.

"Okay! You win, we're going" you said defeated, throwing at him a crumpled up paper towel. "YES! I knew you couldn't resist these eyes" he said wiggling his eyebrows and giving you a smirk. "Don't get too confident" you smirked back at him, trying to forget the fact that you actually had a soft spot: and that spot was Jimin.

It was 19.36 of Wednesday, you had less than an hour to get ready and you still didn't know what to wear. Your closet looked empty, even though it was full of clothes: but you weren't one to dress up, so of course you didn't have a dress that was anything near sexy. It's not like you wanted to impress boys: meeting guys at parties was one of the worst choices someone could do, but Jimin was gonna be there and you surely couldn't arrive at the party looking like you just got out of bed. While sighing loudly, you looked through your clothes one last time, realizing you should move your ass or you would have gotten there late.

Jimin was waiting for you outside Namjoon's house: he did already go inside to greet his friends, but when he realized they were all already drunk and you weren't there yet, he decided to wait for you to arrive safely. And as he saw you coming towards him, both of you swore you had never seen someone looking so breathtaking.

Those skinny, black, ripped jeans emphasized those muscular legs of his, and a bit of his arms showed from the rolled up sleeves of his blouse, that wasn't all buttoned up and you could clearly see a portion of his naked chest. But to him, you were looking like a full meal: a black dress that left little to imagination was covering only half of your thighs and it was tight on your chest, leaving your collarbones naked to his sight.

"You look stunning". You blushed at his words, and for the first time in your relationship you couldn't think of any witty comeback to tell him. You just took in his compliment. You two got into the house, and you began greeting all your friends, not so-friends and even people you barely knew. You could feel the hot stares of some boys on you.

"Want me to get you a drink?" Jimin suddenly asked you before you began to walk towards all the people that were dancing. "Yes please, something strong.".

And that's how you began drinking that night. The alchool flew smoothly in your body the more of it you drank, and your dance moves were getting bolder and bolder. You were receiving amused looks from your friends, and Jimin couldn't help but laugh at your state. But his attitude changed when he decided that some unknown boy around you was getting too comfortable with you to his liking. "Okay we gotta go, you drank enough" he said as he pulled your arm gently under the sight of the boy, too drunk to care about you disappearing. You mumbled something as he got you out of the crowd, but he couldn't understand what you were saying: you were definitely drunk.

"Waiiit I have to get my pursee" you whined before you got out of the house, so he let you go get it, but when you came back he saw you with a bottle of beer in your hand. "Not today darling" he said trying to grab it, but you started whining louder and louder. "Nooo let me drink Jimin". He sighed at your stubborn behavior but coudln't help to chuckle: you were cute.

You tried walking, but the black heels weren't helpful and in your state you managed to walk for maximum a minute before stumbling and falling on the ground.

"Jiminieeeee it hurts, can we go to the hospital?" you whined as he helped you to get up.

"Y/N you just scraped your knees, you're not gonna die. Stop being dramatic" he told you with a chuckle, and this time he kept one arm around your hips to prevent you from falling again. You were completely drunk, but he never thought a drunken person could have been so energetic: he could barely keep up to your pace as you detached from his grip and began running back and forth, heels in one hand, beer in the other while yelling such questionable things.

"Oh and by the way, that guy I was talking to befoe, he was so niceee. He told me I was beautiful"

"Yeah, and I bet he only saw your ass as you were dancing" he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Are you sying I've a good ass?" you looked at him with glossy, wide eyes.

"I'm saying that the only reason he complimented you is because he wanted to bang you" he said as those words came out harshly.

"I wouldn't have complained I haven't been with someoe in ages Jiminiee" you said attaching to his arms, your head on his shoulder as you walked.

"I didn't need that information" he replied as he tried to suppress an annoyed tone. You stopped in the middle of the street for a second, making him stop with you. "Fuck, Jiminieee I think I forgot ma keys at home" you said whining even louder as you snuggled his face in his chest. "Jesus Christ Y/N you're a mess.".

The walk to his apartment wasn't too long, and he was relieved he finally could relax and not having to deal with your drunken state in public. As he helped you walking up the stairs, you kept on talking and Jimin swore he had to find a way to make you shut your mouth. Once you both got in, you immediately throw yourself on the soft couch that smelled like him, the heels discarded on the ground, the half full bottle still in your hand. As Jimin opened the fridge to search for a bit of something to drink, he heard a yelp coming from the kitchen. And immediately a delicious, sweet scent came to his senses. He ran to the living room, his senses getting more and more inebriated and he saw you on your scraped knees, surrounded by pieces of shattered glass and blood on the floor, a fresh cut on your arm.

You could see the dark, rough look in his eyes, fixed on the wound. You were beginning to shiver, and suddenly all the drunkenness went away. It was replaced by pure fear. You felt your mind clearing up as you looked into those almost black eyes. The feeling of alchool was now the last thing on your mind. Feeling almost sober because of the adrenaline that run in you, you tried to speak but works seemed stuck in your mouth.

"Jimin". He would have never hurt you, you knew it. But he was still a vampire. Who knew when he fed himself the last time. And the bigger the amounts of blood were, the more difficult it was for him to control himself. He began walking slowly towards you, eyes glued to your arm. The panic began to bloom in your chest: you couldn't move, you were too terrified. You couldn't talk. For a second you thought the one you had in front of you wasn't your Jimin.

As he sit down in front of you, he felt almost like drowning in your sweet, addictive scent. You must have tasted amazing, he thought. Your scent was so strong that he couldn't even smell the fear you had on. He gently grabbed your arm, he felt his fangs coming out and piercing his lips. You couldn't move. He brought your arm closer to his face, but as soon as his tongue tasted you blood, he immediately pushed away. He was scared, you could tell.

His legs were trembling as he got up and ran to the bathroom: now he could only smell the scent of fear in the air.

You were scared of him.

He had promised you he would have never hurt you.

What if he didn't stop himself?

What if he had bit you?

He couldn't imagine hurting the person he cared about the most in the whole world. You were everything to him, maybe even more than a simple friend, and he couldn't think about losing you.

Jimin's breathing had never been heavier as he searched for antiseptic and bandages. When he came back he could see you had tears in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry" he choked as he grabbed your arm again, and began wiping the blood away. You were looking at him: you weren't afraid or hesitant. You felt bad, so bad.

"I'm okay Jim-"

"I could have hurt you, Y/N. I made a promise and I almost broke it because I have no self control" his voice was breathy.

"I said I'm okay. You're controlling yourself now, aren't you?" you said with a giggle as you stroked his cheek. "I guess" he smiled at you, eyes still glossy and a bit red. He continued taking care of the wound, and when he finally finished he placed a soft kiss on the bandage, making you giggle. And for a second he got lost in your beautiful glossy eyes and your red lips.

"I should probably make you go to bed" he said sighing as he got up the floor, and immediately after you felt his strong arms picking you up.

"Jimin I can sleep on the couch". He could still feel the alchool in your voice but you were definitely more sober now: but you needed a good sleep so he would have let you sleep in his bed.

"Shh don't worry. Let me take care of you, princess" he said after placing you on his warm bed. He waited for you to get under the covers.

He made a move to get out of the room when you spoke.

"You never called me that”. He immediately turned around, you had already closed your eyes, but a small smile adorned your lips.

Jimin couldn't resist: he sat on the edge of the bed and placed a small, sweet but passionate peck on your soft lips.

When he pulled away, he felt your hand grabbing his wrist.

"Stay here with me". Your eyes were full of happiness. And his were too. "Okay princess". He placed himself under the covers on the other side of the bed, pulling you closer to him with an arm around your waist.

"Jimin?".

"Yes?".

"Don't stop calling me that, okay?". A soft laugh escaped both of your lips.

"I won't."

And as you both tried to slip into your sleep, you heard him whispering.

"I promise you I'll take care of you, always".

"I have never doubt it, Jimin".

#bts #bts fic #bts supernatural au #bts vampire au #bts jimin #jimin vampire #bts jin #bts suga #bts rm #bts jungguk #bts jhope #bts v #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts request #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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Supersonic; Work Of Art (Shalaska) - shadyqueenie

A/N: Hi honeys! I know I said “see you at the end of November!1!!”, but I’m really getting bored here in Nagano-shi and I suffered a lot the jet-lag.

With this one-shot I went outside my comfort zone for two main reasons – first of all, it’s a Shalaska (💕✨) and second, there’s a small (small, small, extra small) smut scene. (Aaaaand I’m not going to do that again for a long time.) Bla, bla, bla, English is not my first language, bla, bla, bla sorry for grammar mistakes and so on. Kisses! Your Duh, Shady✨

“Work of Art” is part of the Supersonic Collection [Those one-shots are slightly connected with each-other, you can read them here . The common thread is the fact that almost everyone works at Vanguard Magazine, an important fashion magazine.] Alaska is Trinity’s personal assistant. She knows she doesn’t belong at Vanguard Magazine, but she tries her best because if you work there for a year then you can work wherever you want. So she wears pink haute couture dresses and does everything Trinity asks her. But Alaska is lonely at work, and declines every invitation from her colleagues. Because Vanguard’s Alaska is not the real Alaska.

SUPERSONIC – WORK OF ART

“Alaska?” Trinity Taylor’s voice sounded metallic and sassy through the intercom “Can you please come back to my office?” The blonde girl sighed, looking at her lunch box. She longed for her homemade egg fried rice since that morning – and her boss was ruining that precious moment. And why the hell was Trinity calling her through the intercom if the only thing that separated them was a glass wall?! She screamed every day, 24/7, but she had to play the bitch role with her through an intercom. Alaska shrugged, looked at her reflection in the mirror in her desk and checked if her ponytail was still up and tight (and of course it was) and headed towards her boss’s studio. “What is it?” she asked as she approached the door. She put on her face the brightest of her smiles, but something in the way Trinity was looking at her lunch made Alaska think that she’s going to scream in a minute. “I should be the one who asks question – what is it?” she asked, pointing at her bowl. “It’s the acai bowl you asked…?” “I asked for an acai bowl with tropical fruits” she lifted the spoon “Since when a raspberry is a tropical fruit?” Alaska tried her best not to insult her. Mangos, raspberries… who cares? Probably she was going to threw them up within a handful of minutes “The cafeteria run out of tropical fruits and I thought that berries were- “ “Well, my dear Alaska, I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to get me an acai bowl with tropical fruits” Trinity raised an eyebrow resentfully and pushed the bowl away from her sight “I’m done with lunch today” she sentenced. The clicking of Alaska’s heels sounded really loud as she approached Trinity’s desk and took with her the bowl. She dared to raise another smile but Trinity wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. Trinity made Alaska sighing at least twenty times per day. “What a fucking waste” she breathed as she threw the bowl.

Alaska paid a shit-ton of money for the art school and she was regretting it. In her college days she wanted to write about her fashion sense and art and a bunch of shits for a magazine. She didn’t care for what magazine – just an important one with a budget high enough to pay for her journeys. Almost everyone in her class wanted the internship at Vanguard Magazine, but in the end Alaska and her straight A’s won – and she didn’t even ask that place. “It’s a great opportunity, Miss” her professor said pleased “a year in Vanguard Magazine and then the world” she joked. When the internship ended, Trinity was so pleased about Alaska’s work that offered her a place as her personal assistant “My last assistant was dumber than lobster bait and spent her time counting calories. But you are naturally extremely skinny, don’t you?” Trinity smiled at Alaska’s nod “The paycheck is good, and the work room is full of those pastel dresses you like so much that you can have” added Trinity, emphasizing the words ‘pastel dresses’ with a disgusted tone. Alaska smiled as she stretched her dress’s folds. Yes, she wanted to be a journalist. She wanted to write about art and fashion and a bunch of shits. But a bunch of shits don’t pay the rent “All the dresses I want?” she tried. “As long as you don’t raid Bianca’s atelier” it was the first (and apparently last) time that Alaska heard a joke from Trinity “You will always stand by my side. Which means that if you look ugly, I’ll tell you and I will make you change and-” “I’m in” Alaska cut off the conversation. Alaska saw the same pleased smile that her professor had months ago in Trinity’s face. From that moment on, Alaska filled her wardrobe with expensive dresses and her mind with stylists’ names. She was about to finally starting eating when Detox’s assistant showed up “Are you busy tonight?” asked at point-blank range. Alaska looked at her for a full minute before replying. That woman looked bored. Of course she was bored – being the assistant of someone who clearly doesn’t need an assistant must have been stressful. As much as having three x in her own name. “Emh…” whimpered Alaska, trying to buying time “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry – but I already have something scheduled.” Roxxxy sighed while she tucking her hair behind the ears “Ok Alaska, I’ll try to make it clear. * I know you started working here recently, and so you might be a bit intimidated. But you can’t turn down all our invitations. We, all of us, are trying to be your friends” she pointed out “We – the assistants – have to group together, support each other. Otherwise working here will be like working in hell” Alaska looked up – to her, Vanguard was hell already “I know and I’m so, so sorry. But really, I can’t tonight. Maybe next week?” Alaska tried her best to look apologetic, but Roxxxy didn’t seem the kind of woman who takes a pity – especially because Alaska said the same thing a week before. And the week before that. “Sure” she answered before leaving. The blonde breathed a sigh of relief and finally she could focus on her meal. Not that she thought that Roxxxy and her clique were bad people – well, maybe they were, deep down she didn’t even know them. But she wasn’t interested in making new friends. She was well aware of the existence of the ‘assistants’ clique’, in which Roxxxy Andrews played Queen Bee’s role – but to Alaska’s ears sounded like the dumbest thing in the world. They weren’t in high school anymore.

Alaska was really careful not mixing her career life with her private one. Her work at Vanguard Magazine would have lasted for a year, maybe two. She didn’t want to be involved in that world made of excessively expensive dresses and calories reduced at bare minimum. She didn’t want to be subsumed in that crazy world, she was in it enough for her own tastes. So Alaska built up a character – she needed an armor to protect herself. Always dressed in pink tones (which she chose because she knew Trinity absolutely hated that color), always extremely efficient but at the same time extremely lonely. A nerdy Barbie. Alaska often joked with her friends about how that job was more like an acting game to her, but her longtime friend Jinkx could tell Alaska was always stressed as hell, and now and then asked her why she accepted that job in first place. Alaska has never really had a proper answer to her – she didn’t want to reply with the truth. Everything she knew was that she needed that job to be someone in the future. That’s what she was (always) thinking about – the future Alaska. And it didn’t matter if present Alaska has to work for the place she deposited the most, wearing hideous dresses and swallow some bitter pills. The only thing she could (at least) do was being disagreeable, so no one would have talked to her – and she was being successful, apart from the continuous Roxxxy’s invitations.

After leaving work at 6p.m., Alaska stopped at the restaurant in front of her house and bought a takeaway curry udon bowl. For a moment she thought about scolding herself – she was definitely too much into oriental food, but then she remembered one of the reasons Trinity hired her. She was naturally skinny, she can have rice for lunch and udon for dinner and still looking freakishly gorgeous. Or at least freakishly skinny. Suck it, assistants’ clique. With the bowl in her hands she crossed the street and entered her house’s building. She didn’t lie to Roxxxy – she had something scheduled for the night. Even if that meant eating everything she could find in the pantry and watching late night trash TV’s programs. As she put the key in her flat’s door, she heard a feeble meow from the other side “Ehy, Hairspray” Alaska smiled as soon as a little black fur ball came to cuddle against her legs “Are you ready for our night?” She put the udon bowl on the table and picked up the kitten, who replied at her affection by purring. The first thing she did when she entered her bedroom was throwing ungracefully away her shoes and bag (and by doing that gesture she imagined Bianca shouting “They’re MiuMiu, you ungrateful cunt!”) and finally Vanguard Magazine’s Alaska got replaced by the real Alaska. Yes, because Trinity wasn’t the only one who hated the pink color. While Vanguard Alaska loved pink and tight buns, the real Alaska loved the color black and messy big hair. At work she was quiet, polished – almost unremarkable, but deep down Alaska loved attending concerts dressed in nothing but a bra and a cut-off jeans and hopefully flirting with one of the band member (in which she often didn’t succeed, though). She enjoyed drinking cold beers and watching horror movies. And art, of course. She was, basically, an outsider – a freak. The real Alaska was someone the girls at Vanguard could easily made jokes about, like the ‘cool people’ did during her high school years – that’s why she didn’t want them to know her. After all, as she repeated herself every morning before leaving her flat “It’s just a year”

She was watching without putting too much attention a stupid reality on TV while eating her udon bowl. A bit of curry sauce fell into the sofa and Hairspray tried to lick it “No, no, no, no” Alaska scold him. She was going to go back to eat when the phone notified a new message incoming, which made Hairspray hissing “Calm down tiger – it’s just the phone” smiled Alaska, looking at the message. [Jinkxy 🔮✨, 8.12p.m.] Girl. What are you doing tonight? Alaska typed “Chocking to death” but she didn’t want to sound that melodramatic. So she cancelled the message and replaced it with a vague ‘Nothing’. [Jinkxy🔮✨, 8.14p.m.] Ivy and I are going to a vernissage in Williamsburg. Wanna join? She blew air out of her cheeks. She was already in her pajama, but she had a terrible day at work and really wanted to see her Jinkxy again. Alaska looked at her kitten “What would you do in my place, Hairspray?” she asked, hoping for a reply – but the cat just licked his paws “Sure” she rolled her eyes. Her phone rang again. [Jinkxy 🔮✨, 8.17p.m.] Come on, free booze and art… isn’t that so Alaska?!

An hour later Alaska reached for the couple. It didn’t take long for her to get ready – usually she just wore the first things that came out from the wardrobe, and every time she managed to make them work. The taxi left her in front of a former factory. Alaska rolled her eyes – reusing an abandoned factory for a vernissage? How original. At the entrance, the black sing with silver letters featured a single word. Needles. Her mind was elaborating a witty comment about that name’s choice, but her attention got caught by her friend’s voice “Lasky!” Alaska walked towards them with her arm crossed in her chest, the cold breeze made her legs shaking – November in NYC wasn’t suit for short leather skirt. “It’s so intriguing, isn’t it?” asked Ivy with a smile, referring to the event. Ivy was so optimistic and pure and genuine that gave Alaska cavities. Plus, she truly believed Alaska was a really talented art critic – and always asked what her impressions were. Flattering, but annoying. “Let me guess… New Gothic art?” asked ironically Alaska. She didn’t want to sound bored, but since she saw Ivy’s expression falling she added “I think it’s great!” The blonde watched her friends heading towards the building. She despised that kind of art since the day she studied it in her college years. But a lot of her friends thought she was into those gothic arts – wearing black dresses didn’t help that much, though. She sighed and followed them. The room was extremely big – even if the paints were enormous, they kind of disappeared framed to the wall. She instantly grabbed a glass of Prosecco and walked towards the paints. “Weber” she said softly after looking closer at a couple of them. “What?” “Nothing” Alaska shrugged “Those paints remind me of an artist I studied at school” she explained, tossing the glass in her hand. “Easy, girl!” joked Jinkx. “Round two?” Alaska asked ignored her friend. She couldn’t like the paintings, but she could get drunk at the expense of this Needles. Jinkx smiled softly – she always gave Alaska that condescending smile that made her feel very little “Stay. I’ll go” she offered after few seconds. Ivy excused herself soon after “I’m going to powder my nose” she said playfully. And Alaska was left alone. Alaska stayed still in front of a paint. They were all black, or white – some of them had a splash of burgundy paint but that was all. Maybe they weren’t that bad but God, she hated New Goth art so much. As if those artists didn’t have enough creativity to produce something new. “What to you think?” asked a voice behind her. At first Alaska jumped at the voice “Well,” she started with her usual slowness “What can I say? It is clear to me the tribute to Marnie Weber’s collages – even if those ones are darker and more decadent. Maybe a bit too pushed, I’d say. But what concerns me (yes, concerns) is the artist’s name. What kind of stage name is ‘Needles’? it’s pretentious as fuck. I bet if we’d ask him some explanations he’d talk our ear off about Sid Vicious and Sex Pistols. Like, we get it – you’re a punk/Goth/rebel and so on. Relax kid, your name is as anonymous as your works” she threw all those words up as alcohol after a shots’ night. The feminine and high voice behind her laughed out loud “I bet you’re right. I thought I was the only one that saw something about Weber inside there – yet I was wrong.” Alaska turned around and for the first time and saw to whom that voice belonged. She was a woman with extremely harsh features, her hair was half white and half black – like Cruella de Vil. And yet, throughout it all (that dark attitude, her thin figure and that strange hair), Alaska found her extremely beautiful. “Hi” she found herself babbling. “Hi, I’m Sharon” said the other holding out her hand. Her smile reminded a grin. “Alaska” replied the blonde, shaking that thin hand weakly. Trinity scolded her a million times for how Alaska shook hands “a strong shake means confidence” her boss always repeated her – but in that moment Alaska could barely remember how people do shake hands. “So, Alaska – would you like to keep on talking about it?”

Jinkx was coming back with two glasses of Prosecco, when she saw her friend talking with someone she has never seen before. “Who is she?” whispered Ivy in Jinkx’s ear, as curious as her friend. The redhead shrugged “I don’t know” admitted as she and gave Ivy the glass that was meant to be Alaska’s “Hopefully we’ll see Alaska again at the end of the night”

The conversation between Alaska and Sharon went ahead and their constant chat disturbed people in the room whose (in Alaska’s surprised) seemed to really like the paintings. So they moved towards the balcony, not until they got a new glass of Prosecco. Alaska played her fingers on the lip of the glass, waiting for Sharon to speak again. “So, what do you do for living?” Sharon finally asked. For a moment Alaska thought about lying to her. She could set a stupid lie like “I’m a salesgirl at American Apparel” and everyone would have bought it, but eventually she went for the truth “I work at Vanguard Magazine” “The one full of anorexic models?” “Yes, exactly” Alaska gave up defending the magazine month’s ago. Whenever someone made jokes about how skinny and sick their models were Alaska just nodded. She didn’t care. “And you?” Sharon smiled as she took a sip of Prosecco “Let’s say I work in the field of art” “You’re so lucky” said Alaska recklessly looking at the city lights in front of her. “Ehy, your job is about art too” said Sharon quickly as she catches Alaska’s glance “I do really believe that fashion is an art” added. Alaska sighed. Maybe Bianca and her clothes were doing art. Maybe Detox and her team. But booking Trinity’s appointments and bringing her lunch wasn’t so artsy “Today my boss scolded me because in her lunch – an acai bowl, which I find disgusting – there were berries and not tropical fruits. Where’s the artistic part in all of this?!” “Quit your job then” said out of the blue Sharon. It was so obvious to her she couldn’t believe Alaska hasn’t thought about it yet. “A year there and then I can work wherever I want” it was the first time that Alaska repeated her mantra to someone else – someone who wasn’t her kitten Hairspray. Maybe because talking about her problems to a stranger was easier than to Jinkx – that’s why people go to psychologists. Sharon realized she hit a nerve and soften her tones “I’m sure you are full of potential, and that you don’t need to spend a year at Vanguard if this makes you sad. In a way or another you’ll succeed, and you’ll get your dream job” she said, pinching softly one of Alaska’s cheek. “Do you believe it?” the blonde shivered at the gesture, and shivered even more when Sharon’s hand moved from her cheek to her bicep, stroking it gently. It was a new, strange feeling. She couldn’t believe the absurdity of the situation – a stranger was comforting her. A stranger that was definitely turning her on. “I know it” Sharon reassured her “You should have heard yourself talking about Marnie Weber and those works. You’re passionate, brilliant and smart. That’s what you are – you just have to fight for what you really want” Alaska really wanted to believe Sharon and not being scared about her future anymore. Being Alaska wasn’t easy – since the day she entered college her life was focused on finding the perfect job and feeling realized. Few friends, almost no relationships and an inexistent social life – she sacrificed her youth for something she didn’t know yet. But in that moment Alaska couldn’t care less about her future, her job, Vanguard or some stupid acai bowl. If there was something she would have fought for in that moment, then that thing was kissing Sharon’s lips painted in black. Her head was filled with questions – kissing a woman? She has never kissed a woman before… will she answer the kiss? What if she’ll reject her and scream? Screw that, Alaska kissed her. It was, by far, the most awkward kiss she has ever had. Because it took a moment for Sharon to answer the kiss, but when she did it Alaska felt her body relax. Literally – she feel into her arms. Sharon tasted like Prosecco and toasted tobacco, even if she didn’t smoke. While Alaska wrapped her arms around Sharon’s angular shoulders, she wondered if she tasted like Prosecco too. “Come with me” whispered Sharon against her lips, leading her back inside. Alaska followed her dutifully.

Alaska found herself trapped between the sink and Sharon’s body. She didn’t even realize they were in the toilet room until she looked away from Sharon’s body, when the latter turned to lock the door. She couldn’t help but stare at the other woman’s back throughout all the way to the toilet – as if everything around her went blur. As Sharon went back and kissed the blonde deeply, Alaska let out a loud moan. “Quiet” whispered Sharon, closing Alaska’s mouth with her hand “The exhibition is just at the other side of this door” and then she made Alaska sitting on the sink. Sharon didn’t even need to pull Alaska’s dress off, since she wore a ridiculously short leather skirt and no thights (which she thought it was such a brave choice). Without wasting a single moment, Sharon hooked her fingers to Alaska’s panties and pulled them down “Classy” she commented ironically, with Alaska’s pair of red lace panties intertwined in her fingers. The blonde grunted and rested her head against the mirror, breathing heavily as Sharon’s hands moved again towards her thighs, spreading her legs. Usually those kind of things happened on second-rate romantic movies – thought Alaska – the ones in which the protagonist has a one-night stand with a stranger at the very beginning of the film. Those kind of things usually don’t happen to someone like Alaska. She smiled at her own bravado. The last thing Alaska saw before closing her eyes again was Sharon making her way down her body. Sharon was impatient and in a handful of seconds she was licking the other’s girl clit roughly. When she started sucking too, Alaska had to cover her mouth and biting her lips to avoid screaming in pleasure. She was extremely disappointed as she felt Sharon’s mouth pushing away from her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she annoyed by her moans? Alaska opened her eyes and saw Sharon staring back at her, with an evil grin printed on her face. Definitely Sharon was enjoying it as much as Alaska “Relax, ok? You’re strung tight as a violin” she whispered as she could read her mind. Without a further word, Sharon substituted her mouth on Alaska’s clit with her fingers. She kissed and bite and sucked Alaska’s inner thighs, without taking her eyes off the other girl, who was now placing her legs over Sharon’s shoulders. The blonde’s skin burned under Sharon’s touch. Without any doubts she was leaving marks on her. “S-Sharon… I’m-” Alaska couldn’t add anything else because Sharon inserted a finger in her “Is that what you wanted?” asked panting. Alaska’s moan muffled by her hand was the answer Sharon needed to ear, as she putted other two fingers and moved them inside her partner. Alaska’s body was shaking and Sharon knew she was close, so she thrust more quickly. And she was so, so right – Alaska had to bite one of her hands when she came, the other one rested helplessly on Sharon’s head.

Sharon pulled herself away from Alaska’s body and looked at her own reflection in the mirror, trying to fix her lipstick “I think that those ones belongs to you” she said playfully, giving Alaska her panties back. Alaska’s glance was still on the floor while she wore them again. As her bravado faded away, her cheeks were so red she thought that they would catch on fire. She has never done something like that before. She wasn’t that kind of girl. All that embarrassment didn’t allow her to see what Sharon was taking out from her bra. “By the way” started the latter, giving her a black business card “Marnie Weber’s influence is obvious because she’s the artist I grew up with. Artistically speaking, I mean. Black is a stylistic choice. I don’t look for decadence, it just helps building up a character. And seeing your heavy eye-liner line I’d say it works for you too. Oh, and Needles is really my surname – even if I have to admit I really like Sid Vicious and the Sex Pistols.” Sharon said all of that very slowly, as she previously absorbed Alaska’s cadence, and she seemed to enjoy every single word that left her mouth. On the contrary, Alaska felt the ground beneath her fallen away. Needles, the extra pretentious and dark artist wasn’t a man, but the woman with whom she just had a rendezvous. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She tried to get a word in edgewise but Sharon spoke first “I have to go, you know – I was trying to sell some paintings before a certain blonde here focused all my attention. But in the card I gave you there’s my gallery’s address written – come over when you’re feeling like you want to verbally destroying my work again” and after winking she disappeared. For all that time Alaska’s mouth was wide open – as if she got caught in the act. Well, she was really caught in the act. She waited two minutes before exiting the room. “Here you are!” Jinkx reached her out immediately “I saw you with that spooky girl and the next moment you disappeared! Where the hell have you been?” Before replying, Alaska looked around “Sorry,” she whispered still shocked “I didn’t fell well” Jinkx’s glance was painted with concern “Oh sweetheart, your cheeks are so red… Do you feel like you have fever?” asked, touching her forehead. The blonde shook her head “I think it’s just this place… it’s extremely hot in here! I’ll just hail a taxi and go home” “Are you sure?” asked her friend again, stroking softly her cheek. Jinkx knew how to be so sickly sweet. Not even Alaska’s mother has ever given her so many attentions – and Jinkx wasn’t about to give up “Ivy and I are going to a club… are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Alaska nodded. She needed her home, a hot shower and some cuddles from Hairspray.

Alaska spent the night with her face buried in her hands because of her gaffe. As she entered the taxi she put the black business card with address, email and site written in silver letters inside her wallet. Sooner or later she would have to write to Sharon, or come over her gallery, and she would have to say sorry. That situation also confirmed her biggest fear – she wasn’t ready to write about art. She didn’t even know artists’ faces. Next to her, the kitten slept peacefully. Alaska faced him and stroked gently his fur “My dear Hairspray, we’re going to die alone. Alone and at Vanguard”

The next morning, she arrived at her workplace an hour earlier. She put the most hideous pink tulle dress Bianca gave her and rushed towards the cafeteria. Not even her giant white-framed sunglasses could have covered her dark circles. As she went to the cafeteria and opened her wallet for paying her dark coffee, she noticed the black business card among the receipts. She was bored and she had a spare hour – she decided it was the perfect time to look at Sharon’s works. Alaska came back to her desk and turned her computer on. She ignored all the mails and the notifications from social media and typed Sharon’s website link. For every painting that scrolled down she let out a sigh. Unfortunately, Alaska still didn’t like the New Gothic art – though she started appreciating some of its features. “And what’s this?” Alaska didn’t even heard Trinity as she arrived. Why people loved talking behind her?! “it’s nothing, it’s just…” she tried to justify herself, but Trinity – as always – talked over her “Oh my God. One of those paintings could be the perfect gift for my goddaughter’s birthday. You know, she’s in that phase of every teenager’s life in which she’s obsessed with vampires and all those soft porn bullshits” Alaska imagined a little Trinity reading Fifty Shades of Grey, and did her best not to laugh. “Go to the gallery of this… Needles? – well, what a strange name, – and buy the most gothic paint you can find” stated Trinity, giving Alaska’s her wallet “There’s the checkbook inside. Any price will be fine” Alaska gasped “But-” “But what?” “That is not supposed to be my job” replied puffing her cheeks. “You are paid to be my assistant” said Trinity scornfully “If I want one of those paint, then you’re going to buy me one of those paint. Understood?” she threw her bag on Alaska’s desk “Put this in the wardrobe and don’t waste my time anymore” “Breathe, breathe, breathe” Alaska repeated to herself while sit in the back seat of a taxi, heading towards Sharon’s gallery. The taxi driver looked at the blonde dazed, but Alaska was too worried for guarantee her mental stability to a complete stranger. As she got out of the taxi she found herself in front of a gallery as so many others in Williamsburg, with one of the paintings in the window and nothing more showed. Before entering Alaska peeked into the inside – the furniture was black as the walls, the only point of lights were the light bulbs that enlightened every single piece of art and a computer screen that was hiding a girl with orange hair. Alaska breathe with relief. Maybe that was a shared gallery, and she was one of the other artists. Or maybe she was a salesgirl. But that girl wasn’t Sharon for sure. “Welcome!” said the orange head as soon as Alaska crossed the threshold “Oh, did you miss me already?” Alaska was mistaken – for sure “My boss saw me looking through your website and now she wants one of your work for her goddaughter’s birthday” explained rashly (which was unexpected even for herself speaking so fast), looking down at her MiuMiu’s pink satin sandals. She shivered at the thought that she was wearing a pink dress – what would have Sharon thought about her in that moment? Sharon looked up and down the blonde and then smiled “Sure. Please, have a round” she said as she brought her attention back to her computer. Alaska started looking at the paintings as she did the day before. She was glad Sharon didn’t ask her why she was looking at her website. For a moment that seemed last forever, the only sound that could be heard in the room was Alaska’s clicking of heels. Then, Sex Pistol’s Pretty Vacant echoed from the speakers. Definitely not a coincidence. “You look good in pink” started Sharon as she approached Alaska. The blonde smirked “And you in orange” Sharon run her hands through her hair “What can I say? Tonight when I came back home I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to dye my hair” she moved a hand in Alaska’s hip “I couldn’t sleep because I still was so excited” she explained, whispering in her ear. “About that” rushed Alaska, freeing herself from the other’s woman grip “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those mean things about your art. Pretty rude of me” and before Sharon could add anything, she continued “I’ll take this” she said looking the price tag framed next to the paint she chose. Sharon nodded and went back to her computer “Have a sit, I have to write the bill” she pointed at the empty seat at the other side of her desk “Would you like something to drink?” Alaska shook her head “I should come back to Vanguard soon” she said. She sat still and rested her hand on her knees. She has never felt so nervous before, and her posture made it pretty clear. “I hoped you had already quitted your job” breathed Sharon as she wrote the bill “I really meant what I said yesterday” “I’m halfway my goal” said automatically Alaska. She lost the count of how many times she said that line to herself. “Ok” acquiesced Sharon as she pulled the bill out of the pad “Then, that makes 1300 dollars” “But in the price tag…” started Alaska, but Sharon cut her off. “Yeah, the price tag says 1200 dollars. But since you don’t want to want to quit this hideous job, your boss owns you at least a proper lunch” she grabbed her coat, the bag and the keys “Come on. I’ll promise that where we’re going they don’t serve acai bowls” she joked. A grin appeared in Alaska’s face as she wrote the check. She quickly grabbed her bag and reached Sharon, who was keeping the door open for her “And I promise I won’t read your work today” she said playfully as Sharon closed her gallery. “Oh sweetheart” Sharon titled her chin up and brushed her thumb against the blonde lips “with this cute mouth of yours you can do everything you want”

* Yeah sorry guys – I had to.

#shadyqueenie #supersonic #au #cisgirl au #shalaska #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #smut #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au

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berrycakeness · 7 years ago

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It’s the blog post you’ve been waiting for…

So there are a couple of reasons why it’s taken me so long to blog about my birthday:

1) My Birthday celebrations were extended excessively (I still have two more outings planned). I wanted to encapsulate all events into one post.

2) Work has been relentless, and the last thing I’ve had motivation for is to write.

Anyway, ignoring the fact I have a chocolate workshop and a cocktail night to look forward to, I shall start at the best place – the start.

“I turned 30”

I had a nightmare the night before, and slept awfully on my birthday too. Either I was seriously affected by the ageing process or I think too much. I expect the latter, now off to frantically Web M.D the first.

Nothing much else has changed. I’m definitely however less likely to be the youngest person in the room. Bouncers will stop asking for ID and I’ll start drinking tonic water. Slimline obvs. As I have a fair few (older) friends who have long passed through to their 40’s or have recently levelled up, I think everything’s gunna be alright. (Name that tune, not too hard..).

I have developed an awareness of younger people more so than ever. I know for certain I’m that twat who reminds people of our age difference, but since I’ve realised recently that they teach GOOGLE DOCS in schools and not trusty ol’ Microsoft office, I now understand the generation gap. Now off to frantically join the Google learning centre. Oh my, ‘the’ and ‘google’ should never sit side by side in a sentence. Ever.

My first event was a great kick off to the new decade. Annie treated me to a wonderful set of presents. I received my sparkly new ipad case after a day of shopping and a wonderful 9 course dinner with champagne. Yes, 9 courses. Mitz and Nolwenn joined us and we stuffed ourselves with the finest of yum. We didn’t take photos, we were being too sociable for that. Of course that means I don’t have anything to share from the experience other than the memory of fine dining and wanting every dinner to taste amazing forever more. The venue was Eight Club Moorgate, a private club that has opened up it’s doors to us common folk. I recommend it highly, but definitely midweek. We had the best table in the house and were served by very attentive staff. The company was perfect, and I will remember the night for a long time to come. Thank you ladies for a fabulous evening.

A very berry cocktail. Or two.

Next? Hmm. What was next…*checks diary, facebook and whatsapp*

I think it was my actual birthday, which I always try to spend with my parents as y’know, they gave me life and apparently I owe them some of my very valuable time every now and then. Valuable time I must add that I could spend watching shit on Netflix. Ah I’m joking, I’d be asleep instead.

Just before that though, I went to work. I try to go to work on my birthday as otherwise I’d just sit alone doing not much all day. Stevie gave me a traditional Edinburgh breakfast of a bottle of Irn Bru and a chocolate croissant (She’s a posh scot really), and around halfway through the day I was presented with a card and a balloon. Eventually my real present was given to me a few days after the day which was a beer tour! I’ve yet to cash in my vouchers so one of you lucky people will get to come with me. Unless I can go twice…ha.

SCOTLAND!

LAD LAD LAD LAD

My birthday dinner was our traditional family pasta that my dear mother makes so well. It’s a variety of vegetables in tomato sauce with the all important ingredient of bacon. And a side of garlic bread. Home comfort is what I needed the most, and I throughly enjoyed my time. Got some cash from the folks (make it raaaain), a switch game from Tom, Annie had already given me my presents and nothing from Lewis. A promise of a present was given, and I waited patiently (more to come).

My birthday weekend was prebooked many months prior, not particularly for my birthday but I’m counting it. C2C festival!

Yes, I’m a little bit country. Ok, maybe a bit more than a little. Leaky, Lewis (still without present, attempted to make me want a cowboy hat) and I started the weekend with a bit of booze, and a lot of music. My first festival of the year (second was a beer festival), we swayed, bopped and did a bit of a jig in our seats to a few of our favourites and some new favourites. That list includes: Old Dominion, Faith Hill, Tim McGraw, Luke Combs, Little Big Town, Lindsay Ell and Lukas Nelson, who happens to be in a rock band but also happens to be Willie Nelsons son. Leaky almost died of boredom listening to EmmyLou Harris and disappeared to (I assume) cry halfway through.

So that’s the first week of March out of the way, and this post is beginning to become a novel. Still, I shall prevail and continue to make you wait for my birthday party verbiage.

Di, Stevie and I went out midweek and I made Di drink a glass of limes.

Boozing on a weekday

Limey goodness

The party. See, I didn’t make you wait too long.

I didn’t spend too much time with party prep this time, but as tradition dictates I took a day off to bake and to get some posters printed, but mostly enjoyed my day off drinking buckets of coffee. The theme was fancy dress, because I’m annoying like that. The fancy dress theme was musicians, which confused a few people. Apparently musicians write their own music, and so I was limiting the choice to people who were dead or too current. Regardless, I stormed ahead.

There’s not much to write about, so I will leave the pictures to tell their own story. However, it was a fantastic party and I was so glad to have lots of different friends from various walks of live attend.

Yearly photo with the flatmate

Crime busters of the sea..

Slash was supposed be swearing, but peace got in the way.

Mr and Mrs Cash, with their dearest little Ring o’fire

Cowgirl and the Dandy.

Bowiecarter

Bowiecash

Bowietracy

Where’s your Stash, Johnny Cash?

Siblings + Johnny Cash.

Moby no dick?

Midst performance of Believe.

HEY BRITNEY! Madonna ft Britney

Dollybowiecher

Bettecherbowie

Madonnabowiechercarter

Boobs propping up the keys nicely there. Apparently chord playing.

Laughing Cherbowie, pretty June!

Queen Cherbowie

Selfie

Give a girl a headpiece and a boy some boot covers and all of a sudden they’re fashionistas.

BetteMichael

Costumes off, no idea who these people are

Shark attack!

The datties face pull in town.

Dancing in the ring of fire, with a can of Stella.

Even inflatable monkeys need a drink

Beat that drum

I mustache you a question.

Duckface!

You’re a wizard, Harry.

BetteSlash

LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE

A lap dance, with a can of stella.

Dolly Sharkton goes to bed

Alright, I had about 6 different costumes but it was my birthday (month) and I could do what I wanted to do. (Name that tune, adapted to past tense). The intention was to start as Bowie and morph into Cher. Once Cher, I was to change my wigs periodically throughout the night. However, I rushed it and did it throughout the song “Believe” to much comic relief. There are a couple of videos, and as much as I would love to post them I can’t do that to myself. If you’re particularly intrigued and happen to be a friend, get me drunk and I’ll show you from a distance of at least 5 paces.

Leaky and I took the next day slowly recovering by mostly stuffing our faces.

At some point, we had work drinks to celebrate my birth. We ran up a healthy bar tab and got suitably tipsy. I chose the Draft House – Chancery Lane as it’s very close to the office and they have one of my favourite ales on tap. For the life of me, I cannot remember it’s name but I know that it is Australian, and is rather citrus tasting. Diana attacked Matt and he left soon afterwards. I walked Di to Charing Cross as she cannot be trusted to walk alone anymore (I’ve made it a regular excuse to walk more steps of an evening – not that she’s drunk every time..) and got home later than I really should on a Thursday evening.

The reservatation was literal.

Matt attack!

That weekend was pure indulgence. Annie, Mitz, Nolwenn and I spent a weekend in a Spa in the cute town of Stratford upon Avon. Not only was it exactly what I needed, but it left me wanting even more. I need the extravagance of being pampered on a daily basis, but girl got bills to pay. Another fantastic weekend was enjoyed by all, again, thank you ladies!

Timeline wise, we’re now near to the end of March. Let us skip forward a little bit to April where I spent an evening in POTIONS CLASS.

But just before that, on Annies Birthday (8th April) Lewis gave me my present! Some great Rick and Marty merch.

Back to POTIONS CLASS. Yes, Mitz and I were given robes and a wand, and a shit ton of mysterious liquids to make the magic happen. The cynics of you may believe it was simple chemistry but that’s what they want you to believe. #fakenews

Cocktails were made and consumed in a small basement in the middle of the slightly less magical area of London – Dalston. If you’re interested, it’s called the Cauldron and it’s definitely worth a trip. A wonderful birthday present, and I felt like a true Hogwarts student. Just don’t buy their house cocktails, they were terrible. Seriously, the worst I had ever tried, except for their gin concoction and their shooter. Urgh. But otherwise, probably the best thing related to Dalston

Stir potions

From blue to purple!

Brewing with Mitz

Magical booze tree

Smoking shooters

Then, Jackie had been messaging me for weeks trying to get a date in the diary the diary that I kept forgetting about, but mostly being too busy with sleeping to have time for. However, we agreed a date and I made my way to Angel (my favourite part of town) for brunch at Dead Dolls House. As I had not asked Jackie any questions, I was surprised to be asked whether I wanted to start drinking straight away or until she arrived. Yes, bottomless mimosas and a very yummy brunch indeed. After our two hours of boozing, we slipped next door to sing our hearts out at Lucky Voice. I took some convincing (I think Jackie said “Ah come on, let’s do it” and then I had to convince her when we were informed of the cost of hiring “Jacks it’s the same cost of a round of drinks, it’s nothing” Note, I sometimes call her Jacks, but mostly Jackie. It depends on my mood, but I always wonder if she notices…*waves*

Despite our protests, we both walked into the room, shooed away the guy who gives you the microphone and tells you how everything works (being lucky voice, half of it never works) and sang for a good 90 minutes. Walking out at 4pm being now relatively sober and it being sunny was quite disconcerting. Jackie then treated me to some ice cream (I know it’s a bore, its just for my throat. I need a layer of protection) and overall, it was the perfect birthday day I could have hoped for. Jackie knows me well! So thank you ma’am.

And I suppose, that’s about it. Thanks to everyone who took part, you have made it a good one xxx

Every now and then I fall apart It's the blog post you've been waiting for... So there are a couple of reasons why it's taken me so long to blog about my birthday:

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