#inspired by me recently having had to reach out to customer support for another thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fenheart87 · 3 years

Text

The Dress

For @bloody-no-kissu, you're art is always amazing and inspirational! I love you bloody!

It was a rare day that Marinette was fully rested, had no events to attend and the bakery wasn't busy enough for her parents to ask for her help. Feeling inspired but not able to pick up a recent project without being hypercritical of her work, the young designer decided picking up something different might help. Grabbing a blue folder with various doodles and stickers, she spread the sketches one by one on her desk.

"Oh, these look great!" Tikki chimed, flying closer to examine the handwritten notes.

"I know but I can't choose! I want to do them all, eventually but where do I start?" Marinette huffed, eyeing the designs with a playful pout.

"Hm, why not choose randomly? You could number the designs and put matching numbers on slips of paper to pick the one to start with!"

"Tikki, that's a great idea!" Marinette cupped the floating ladybug gently in her hands and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before scribbling on a scratch paper. Tearing the numbers apart, she put them in a hat and let Tikki do the honors.

"Here we go!" Tikki dropped in the hat and shook the pieces around before flying back out with one piece between her paws. Twirling in excitement, she opened the paper and held it up like a sign. "Lucky number four!"

"Okay so four is," the designer stacked the extra papers and pulled out the fourth design page, "this one. Huh, I don't have one color scheme for this, I made two. Oh wait, this started out as a design for Rose but I made something else for her. I can finish this dress for me though, time to go fabric shopping!"

"Oh can you get some crushed velvet? It makes a wonderful bed." Tikki asked, hovering by the trapdoor as her holder ran around the room to gather her things.

"Sure! Any color requests?" Marinette paused to let the kwami zip into her purse, handing Tikki the list.

"Blue or green, maybe aquamarine!" They shared a giggle before the designer made her way downstairs to let her parents know about her trip into town.

"Maman, Papa, I'm going to the fabric shop. I've got so much creativity I feel like I'm going to explode!"

"Well we don't want that, then we couldn't possibly have family bear hugs!" Tom shouted, scooping up his wife and daughter who giggled and snuggled in for the hug. "Please be safe and call if you need help or eat somewhere else for lunch."

"Of course Papa!" Marinette withdrew from the hug and grabbed her personalized tote bag that she used for trips like these. With one last wave goodbye, she set off to her favorite shop. A ten minute bus ride and quick shortcut through the plaza, she arrived in front of The Special Thread. The bell rang merrily as the younger design held the door open for an elderly lady before beelining towards the crushed velvets. It was the backrest left corner and after a glance around, Marinette popped open her purse to let Tikki out to be able to help pick out the right color.

"Okay here are all the cool colors of the crushed velvet and then here’s the penne velvet too. What did I need and who did I need it for? Oh wait, the list!” Marinette knew the shop owner and many of the regular customers were used to the young designer talking to herself as they tended to indulge in the habit as well. Actually checking the list after fighting the urge to ruffle through the soft velvets, “I need a burgundy color to accent Marc’s and a peachy tone for Nathaniel, more princess tulle for Rose and some black lace for Juleka… Oh that’s perfect!”

“Marinette, I like both of these colors but can't choose…” Tikki chimed, respectfully waiting until Marinette’s attention was back from her creative mindset.

“It’s on sale, why not get both and I can make a matching pillow or something? I have a coupon too and those colors are gorgeous, the blue reminds me of Luka.” She may have not noticed the dopey grin on her face as she grabbed the selected velvets and moved to another fabric wall but Tikki could see it clearly and cheered internally. “Let’s get a couple yards of each and then I saw the perfect shades for Marc and Nathaniel but Ms. Cribler might have more in the back so I can get a little extra, just to be on the safe side.”

“Hello, Marinette, you looked especially inspired.” The shop owner smiled as she spotted Marinette, sorting through some bolts of fabrics to be put away from previous customers. Today she was sporting her favorite cardigan, the plum on bottom faded into lilac near the collar and the different embroidered designs and patches were still like new and matched her skirt that had vines and flowers blooming all over in a field of wildflowers. The addition of several animals made Marinette smile, it was the elder woman’s way of supporting the superheroes that protect their fair city.

“Hello Ms. Cribler, I am feeling very inspired and had to even get creative in choosing what to make next! How has the shop been today, need me to return anything? I’m passing through the solids and plundering the lace next.” The young designer placed her chosen bolts of fabric on the counter, eyeing the rather large pile that was being sorted.

“Oh things have been busy, it seems the creativity is floating in the air! I can hold these until you’re ready of course, if you can run this pile,” Ms. Cribler patted a pile with about ten bolts of various creams and browns, “they need to be put away. I have gotten everything I need from those. Is there anything in particular I can check the back for?”

“Ah yes, I need some more of this burgundy shade and if you have more peach colors, something more pale orange and less pink peach color that would be perfect. I’ll take these with me and see what I can find in the lace bolts.” Marinette picked up the pile with ease and marched carefully to the proper section and began putting them away. Tikki joined her, zipping back and forth to help quickly find the right spots she needed. Once those were completely put away, the duo weaved through the aisles and found the lace bolts. With a soft hum, the young designer pulled several options down. Marinette set them down on the return cart that was nearby, carefully unrolling them just enough to see a clear picture of the lace.

“What part of the dress is going to be lace?” The kwami inquired, floating at the top of the pink bag.

“Mid back up to my shoulders, just along the back side.”

“Oh, then this one would be so pretty!” Tikki flew up and showed off her choice, wrapping it around her tiny body like a toga.

“Super stylish Tikki!” Marinette giggled and returned the other options back to their proper places. Picking up the one she wanted to purchase and making sure Tikki was in her bag once more, she weaved her way back to the solids for another look and didn’t have anything that spoke to her. Continuing on, Marinette returned to the front cutting table where Ms. Cribel was helping out a familiar face but not a familiar face to see in the shop. Tikki giggled and ducked completely out of sight, closing the clasp of the purse.

“Found the lace alright Marinette?”

“Yes ma’am, take you time Luka, I still have to check out these other colors.” The girl smiled brighter as the other customer turned around, his typical and slightly goofy Luka smile in place.

“Hey Marinette, look like you have quite the haul.” Luka teased, shifting to talk to her.

“Yeah, I just had this moment of inspiration but now that I think about it the dress I’m making would be ideal first date material… I could tweak it for Rose and embellish it a bit for an anniversary vibe…”

“Is the dress for you?”

“Yeah it was originally, I just don’t think I’m going to have a date to wear it for soon.” Marinette scrunched her nose slightly, it felt weird to talk about dating in front of Ms. Cribel. Finding a salmon color that would be fantastic, she moved the bolt to her purchase pile and scooted it closer to the register where Luka had a thoughtful frown on his face.

“Well why don’t you change that? Isn’t the dance coming up?”

“Yeah, in a couple months.” The designer giggled as a light pink dusted his cheeks, sometimes she wished she liked Luka first. That thought struck her like lightning and decided right then and there she was going to be true to herself and no longer be pressured by the Girl Squad for her change of heart. “Hey Luka, are you, uh well, are you busy later? The weather is really nice and Maman made the best dumplings and the park doesn’t have a big photoshoot or news report or meeting going on today…”

“Yea- no, I mean no but I mean yes.” Luka clenched his jaw while taking a deep breath to calm down, eyes wide with hope before continuing, “I have no plans unless you wanna have plans later?”

“Yeah, it’s a date… I just have to finish my dress first and I can text you?”

“Yeah, anytime. Ever. Yes.” The musician clench his jaw again, making Marinette laugh in sheer joy. He was just as nervous as her but they would work it out on their date.

“Okay, well I think you’re good to go and I still need my materials cut. Uh did you- nevermind.”

“Can I walk you home? I can carry some of your stuff, these are good for other things than playing guitar.” Luka playfully flexed his arm, seeming to forget he had his jacket on and she couldn't see his muscles.

“Oh you will and you had better let him or you’re banned from my shop.”

“What? Ms. Cribel-”

“Marinette, you have a boyfriend now. Call me Ana as a thank you for giving you a discount to celebrate. Now, how many of what do you need today dear? You need to hurry and get home!” The shop owner punctuated her words with a few snips of her scissors, reaching for the lace first.

“Ah, the lace I need four yards, six of the salmon and burgundy and since the velvet is half off..” Marinette dropped into thought and with a glance at the boy beside her made a decision, “let’s do ten of each. And my special order too, if you have it in.”

“I sure do! Let me finish this right up and I’ll grab it for you.” Ana swiftly unfolded the bolts and made precise, clean and quick cuts, working through the small stack in under a minute. The musician seemed a bit shocked but Marinette knew she could move faster and still have the same pinpoint accuracy. Folding all the cut lengths and wrapping the bolts once more to set them aside, the shop keeper tucked the purchases into a bag and threw in some extra thread. Leaning down to reach under the counter, she put another bag that had a receipt attached onto the counter as well.

“Did you have everything?” The young designer asked, rolling and tucking that big into the bigger one.

“Of course! You are my favorite customer, anytime you call I make sure I have everything or get it delivered before you show up. It brings me joy that you create so many beautiful things when these hands are not quite steady enough anymore, it makes me happy to see you thrive.” The younger was touched and the awe showed in her face, causing the older woman to smile.

“She is pretty amazing.” Luka’s soft voice drew their attention, Marinette blushing while Ana had a knowing smile.

“Total today is one week of fresh croissants and details of today’s date.”

“What? No, i couldn’t possibly take all this for free-”

“Marinette. I am trading you, your parents food and you story for my measly fabrics. I will simply kick you out of my shop if you refuse.”

“Okay but two weeks at least and I can come help you put things away.”

“Deal, now go finish your dress and knock his socks off!” Ana winked playfully, both teens were blushing as they left.

“She isn’t usually like that but thank you for helping me.” Marinette grinned shyly, Luka had taken the bag of fabrics before she could and left no room for protest.

“Seems like she knows you well. And of course Marinette,” the soft way he spoke her name was going to give her heart problems if it kept skipping every time he said it, “anything to spend more time with a beautiful girl.”

The girl in question just blushed and ignored him, not that Luka seemed to mind as he escorted her home in silence. It was a comfortable and breathable bubble they were in and not even when he had to catch her when she tripped boarding the bus that would take them to her house. In a smooth and thoughtful move, Luka managed to hold her hand without her noticing until the end of the bus ride, only smiling in his sweet way at her blush.

“Well thank you for walking me home, now I can finish the last piece and then we can go on our date.”

"Yeah, no problem. Now I know where to pick you up too." He grinned crookedly, her blushing was too cute.

"Yeah now you know… Um, I haven’t done this before and I know you’ve been there for you through a lot and i appreciate it so much but like I don"t want you to think I'm going on this date as like a rebound or something stupid to deal with Adrien when its not.”

“Marinette.” Luka met her eyes dead on, a growing smile on his lips. “You have never and would never lead anyone on like that. I have always respected your feelings, even when you decided to gift them to someone other than me. My feelings for you haven't changed at all, you’re still the song in my head.” This boy was too much for Marinette, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and Luka calmly looped around her and gently guided her into movement again with a gentle press of a hand.

“You are something else.”

“A good something else?”

“Depends how nice our date is later!” With that teasing remark, Marinette used the last of her courage to press a kiss on Luka’s cheek before dashing inside and up to her room. Carefully the designer set down her purchases on her desk before jumping up and down and squealing in happiness.

“Great job Marinette!” Tikki giggled and flew in a few loops to show her excitement as well.

“Oh my gosh, Maman! I need your help, if you’re not busy!” Marinette stumbled a bit on her way down but caught herself before she fell. She knew this would be one of her best creations yet.

#lukanette endgame #fenwrites #fen's plunny corner #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fluffy #Luka loses his cool #but its okay #he recovers

73 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Idle Chat with Kiro

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Gavin / Lucien / Shaw / Victor

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: We can visit that dessert shop today! Because I. Don’t! Have! To! Work! Overtime!

Kiro: Although we’re separated by the screen, I can sense Miss Chip’s happiness~

Kiro: Since this is the case, our challenge today will be to--

Kiro: Wipe! The! Dessert! Shop! Clean!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Went to work feeling muddle-headed today, which left me with a stack of incomplete work. Sigh, I might have to work overtime today.

Kiro: Did you spend too much time watching dramas last night?

Kiro: Next time, you have to stick to a regular sleeping timing.

Kiro: Also, isn’t the male lead by your side?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The market hasn’t been good lately, so the income I received has also gone down. I feel like I’ve left everyone down...

Kiro: Back then, MC went through such difficult times.

Kiro: I think these little twists and turns don’t account for much!

Kiro: Because you’re always producing miracles!

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve received my pay~ I even have a bonus this month! Aren’t I incredible?

Kiro: As expected of Miss Chips!

Kiro: As a reward, I’ll give you a present.

Kiro: Want to know what it is?

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I have no idea why, but I haven’t been interested in anything I do. Could it be because it’s a long time till payday?

Kiro: Mm... want to consider changing occupations and becoming my assistant?

Kiro: You’ll be paid daily.

Kiro: Also, there will be an additional, exclusive Kiro hug every day.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Working overtime again and again and again and again! There’s even a rainstorm outside! The most enraging thing is that I didn’t bring an umbrella!

Kiro: I checked the weather forecast beforehand

Kiro: So I knew there’d be a rainstorm

Kiro: Give me five minutes - I’ll be there soon!

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Do you still remember the collaborative program I mentioned before? We plan to invite a mystery guest. Want to guess who he is?

Kiro: I’m guessing he is -- Kiro!

Kiro: If Miss Chips doesn’t invite me,

Kiro: I’ll be very hurt.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The reaction from the other party regarding this collaborative program seems bland. Actually, I also find the content a little boring. I have no inspiration at all...

Kiro: In my eyes, everything Miss Chips does is very interesting.

Kiro: But if you really have no inspiration,

Kiro: Need me to help you grab it back?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’ve already made over thirty amendments to the proposal for this collaborative program. What more does the other party want?! What do they mean by a “vibrant black”??

Kiro: Oo... a vibrant black...

Kiro: It does sound like a difficult operation.

Kiro: Maybe it’s the same thing as how Apple Box’s jet-black eyes are bright even at night?

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The program I’ve been working on for months has finally gotten approved! If I were to continue doing it, I’d probably have gone bald... Should I place an order for hair-growth shampoo?

Kiro: Instead of hair-growth shampoo, I think what you need more is sufficient sleep.

Kiro: Or a limited-edition Kiro hug?

Kiro: I’ll decide on both of them on your behalf~

2. Mood: Upset

MC: My daily self-reflection -- Has the program been approved? Not yet :(

Kiro: My daily self-reflection -- Do I think about Miss Chips?

Kiro: Always.

Kiro: Miss Chips, do your best!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Good news. The program I’ve been painstakingly working on for several months has been rejected. :)

Kiro: Whenever my albums get delayed, I’ll take Apple Box out for a walk.

Kiro: Since Apple Box doesn’t have a slot recently,

Kiro: Why don’t I take you out for a walk instead?

🌻

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I've reached my ideal weight! I’m really happy~ I can finally toss away the salad that even Apple Box dislikes.

Kiro: Although I didn’t think you were fat before,

Kiro: What’s most important is that Miss Chips is happy!

Kiro: P.S. You’ve stopped eating snacks recently - Apple Box and I are both very upset.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: A sincere question - If your weight remained the same after dieting and exercising for a week, would you choose to feast ferociously on crayfish or barbecue?

Kiro: Since your weight is so disobedient,

Kiro: Let’s punish it fiercely!

Kiro: Why don’t we have barbecue along with crayfish!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why is it that every time I indulge in extravagant eating and drinking, I always scroll to a page showing models with incredible figures?! I’m once again putting up a flag to lose weight!!

Kiro: Promise me that you won’t go on a diet to lose weight.

Kiro: Effective exercise and a reasonable work-life balance is the correct way to do it.

Kiro: But will our weekly dessert day continue?

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Burp-- I had a buffet this afternoon, and I’m so full now. Let me secretly tell you that I had to support myself on the wall to get out.

Kiro: Hahaha, I’m also the same after a photoshoot,

Kiro: Wanting to stuff myself to the brim.

Kiro: Next time, let’s compete to see who is the true buffet killer!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve entered a special bottleneck period - What should I have for lunch? What should I have for dinner?

Kiro: Mm... this is indeed a big problem which frequently stumps me.

Kiro: Want to watch a documentary on delicacies?

Kiro: You might be able to find some “inspiration” on what to eat.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I was seized by a whim and did some cooking. When I changed the seasoning just slightly, I ended up creating a mysterious, indescribable taste...

Kiro: Mm... has your cooking magic lost its touch temporarily?

Kiro: That’s all right

Kiro: Tomorrow, we’ll try again together.

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I came across a picture book today, and readers can use their fingers to make a dot in the book grow bigger or smaller~ It’s very adorable!

Kiro: I really wish Miss Chips were that little dot.

Kiro: That way, I can make you really tiny

Kiro: And store you in my pocket.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: There’s a book wasteland... Why can’t I find a single good book...

Kiro: Someone said that the most interesting book is a person’s life.

Kiro: Could the reason you’re unable to find a good book

Kiro: Be because your life is already very interesting?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’ve been keeping up with a web series, but the author said that he decided to go on a hiatus today after receiving negative comments. My spiritual nourishment is gone...

Kiro: Negative comments truly make people upset

Kiro: Want to leave an encouraging comment to the author?

Kiro: Tell him that there are many readers who like his work!

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Ding-- Dear respected customer, your gaming partner has found another interesting game. If you wish to know the name of the game, kindly reply with a ‘1′

Kiro: Rejected.

Kiro: Hahahaha, I’m just teasing you.

Kiro: 11111!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Help... I’m stuck at the fifth stage of this riddle game. What do I have to do so the squirrel would release its hold on the key?

Kiro: There’s actually such a mean squirrel?

Kiro: Let me handle it!

Kiro: If it doesn’t work, I’ll let Cello catch it!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: My hand slipped when I was playing a game today, causing the entire game to restart :) Don’t stop me - I’m going to chop off this troublemaking hand!!

Kiro: An urgent appeal to spare your hand!

Kiro: Think on the positive side,

Kiro: We now have another thing we can complete together~

🌻

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I've prepared a studying schedule, and am filled with confidence for this new life of studying! Kiro, please supervise me from time to time!

Kiro: Understood!

Kiro: If you get lazy--

Kiro: Heheh, there’ll be punishment.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve been staring at my book for an hour in a daze. Why do I understand the words in isolation, but not when they are strung together?

Kiro: Mm... from a certain perspective, isn’t knowledge a series of code?

Kiro: Read them as though you’re playing a riddle game.

Kiro: Perhaps you’ll find a way to pass the stage!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why does my brain function so slowly the moment I start studying? Isn’t it very amazing when I play games?!

Kiro: I’d like to correct two mistakes Miss Chips made--

Kiro: Number One, whenever you get stuck in a game, you’d let me take over;

Kiro: Number Two, your brain isn’t functioning slowly. It’s just time to take a break.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Because I remembered the reward you mentioned, I finished my homework really quickly today! What’s the reward, what’s the reward?

Kiro: I already said that you could definitely do it!

Kiro: As for the reward,

Kiro: Come closer, and I’ll tell you.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Whenever I do homework, it seems that aside from the homework, I become curious about everything else. Oh yes, do you think a dog sees itself as a dog?

Kiro: Miss Chips, concentrate!

Kiro: But for your question, I’ve asked Apple Box about it

Kiro: It responded and said...

Kiro: Bark!

3. Mood: Angry

MC: A sincere question - can homework be done in stages? I really can’t finish it ahhh!

Kiro: Take your time, I’ll accompany you.

Kiro: Although I don’t know if homework can be done in stages,

Kiro: But my care for you is a fixed asset.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is coming up soon. It’s a good thing you supervised me and ensured that I studied seriously. The scope of the exam was also very clearly detailed by the teacher!

Kiro: I think you forgot the most important thing--

Kiro: Miss Chips’ own diligence and hard work.

Kiro: Miss Chips, all the best for your exam!

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Memorising the examinable points is really difficult. It feels as though the moment I memorise a sentence, I forget the earlier one. How do you memorise the lines in your script?

Kiro: I have my exclusive Kiro memorisation technique of course!

Kiro: It’s exceptionally effective!

Kiro: If you want know about it, bring a bag of chips over to me~

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When the teacher was pointing out the important segments, he said the first three chapters are the foundation, the following three chapters are important, and the final three chapters are examinable. Doesn’t this mean I have to revise the entire book!

Kiro: It takes a long time to revise the entire book.

Kiro: Do you need a Kiro exam buddy?

Kiro: It comes with a massage, milk tea delivery, and hugs.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is over~ After comparing answers, there doesn’t seem to be any big issues! Kiro, who supervised me in my revision, is the best!

Kiro: Congratulations Miss Chips!

Kiro: Since I’ve rendered outstanding service, as a reward,

Kiro: Give all your post-examination resting time to me~

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The exam is finally over... I actually don’t feel very happy... Could it be because the final question was simply incomprehensible?

Kiro: Hasn’t Miss Chips been looking forward to this day for a very long time?

Kiro: In that case, I have to find a way to cheer you up.

Kiro: Let’s laze on the sofa and watch your favourite movie. How’s that?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I messed it up... I gave up on the last two questions... I think I’ve definitely messed it up...

Kiro: Maybe all the questions in front were correct!

Kiro: Also, one exam doesn’t mean much

Kiro: You’ll always be the smartest Miss Chips in my heart!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro #more! love! for! our! little! sunbeam!

59 notes · View notes

chocojjk · 4 years

Text

For A Moment

summary: If you knew from the start that there is no forever, will you still choose to love?

words: 8.6k

a/n: Hello friends, long time no see :( ... This is long overdue and I’m not even gonna make up any excuses because honestly I just had no time and no motivation to find time. However, with the recent events, I was finally able to finish this au and I am excited for you guys to read it!

I tried to edit it as much as possible but my head started hurting lol

Also, this was inspired by the movie Hello, Love, Goodbye

one.

You were a busy person. Your life a constant battle between yourself and your phone alarm, ordering you of your next tasks at hand. In your world, time is important. Time is gold. But when you met him, for a moment, time just stopped.

“Hi,” he says, giving you a sweet smile.

“Welcome to the Timebeam, what can I get you?” you reply, your customer service voice barely there, seeming as this time of the night everyone is either too drunk to notice or too happy to even care. No one comes here for a good conversation anyway, everyones only here for 3 things: get drunk, have fun, and get laid.

Timebeam was a very popular bar in your city that you so happened to work in. Don’t get me wrong, you could care less about the alcohol that surrounds you but the job pays well and the tip is insanely crazy - people tend to be rash when they’re drunk and well, you needed the money.

“Well, I- uhm, was hoping I could get your number,” he replies, the smile still on his face.

“No,” you shot back as quickly as his question left his mouth.

“Why not?” he asked, confusion evidently laced in his voice. You can tell that the boy in front of you wasn’t used to someone rejecting him. Typical. But if he wanted someone so bad, then he shouldn't be asking the most sober person in the room.

“What would you need my number for?” you retorted.

“I wanted to get to know you better, maybe take you out on a date,” he replied, this time a smirk playing on his lips. He knew you had to be the slightest bit interested if you were still talking to him. He was sure you were going to give in eventually. Besides, like a typical boy, he enjoyed a challenge.

“I'm a very busy person “Mr.-” “Bang, Bang Chan,” he chimed in, reaching his hand out to shake yours in which you gladly accepted. I mean come on, you are still clocked in and the number one rule in customer service is to always keep your customers satisfied.

“Nice to meet you sir, like I said, I'm a very busy person, I don't have time to get to know people, let alone go on dates with them. So I suggest you order something or find a different conquest for the night because all you're getting from me is a glass of alcohol of your choice,” you declared, finishing it off with a small smile.

He was about to reply to you when suddenly a man came slurring in, pushing him out of the way.

“8 sh-shots of uh.. your b-best vodka,”

“Yes sir, which table are you in?”

“Table number…uh...9 i think, i don't know just look for me,”

“Alright sir, coming right up,” you said as you busied yourself behind the counter preparing the drinks, completely forgetting about the boy that had asked for your number. You never did find any of those interesting, always telling yourself that they're too drunk to even remember their actions and 99.9% of the time, you were right.

He observed the way you treated the customers, finding it absolutely cute how you kept a smile on your face, your voice keeping that high, cheery customer service voice. However, your eyes seem to tell a different story. A one that he wanted to know. But tonight wasn’t the night and so he made his way back to his friends.

“So did you get her number?” Minho asked, a smirk on his lips

“Nope,” he replies honestly, a huge smile on his face.

“So why are you smiling?” Jisung asked, clearly confused as to why his best friend is plastering a huge smile on his face when he has just gotten rejected.

“Wow, for the first time in history, someone dared to reject our brother??! I can't believe it!,” Changbin added, a little too loudly if one may ask. Clearly the boy was way too gone and so was the rest of them as they all bursted out in laughter, even Chan himself chuckled as he swigged the glass of beer, his eyes never leaving your figure.

Their loud ruckus, however, caused you to turn in the group's direction, locking eyes with the man himself, as he nods his drink towards you, taking a sip, and giving you the same small smile that he has been giving you all night.

two.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Another day, another dollar,” as spongebob would say.

You get up for the day, shutting off the little death machine that kills you a little bit inside every time it opens its mouth. You honestly should get used to that loud, damn thing as it screams at you 5 times a day, each ring signaling your next task at hand.

Being a part time college student and also working two jobs isn't as easy as people make it seem to be. On top of that, your family relies on you for financial support. Their business crashing has laid a huge weight on top of your shoulders. Before you only used to worry about paying for your education but now there’s just piles and piles of loans being thrown at you.

You really didn't have any other time to sneak in a date here or there - maybe after your shift in the bar but even that doesn’t end until 1 in the morning and by that time you're way too exhausted to do anything.

Besides, with your family relying on you, it's not like you can just drop everything. At least not until for the next 5 months, when you will finally be relocated to Canada to start your on the job training, working as a [insert your dream job.] The job that you actually desired. The job that you’ve been working so hard for and the job that pays so well that it will finally get your family out of the debt you owe. When that time comes you will finally be able to leave this hellhole of a place that you’ve been calling your home for the past 2 years.

In 5 months, you’ll finally live the way you want. The way you dreamed.

You just gotta get through another day until that day finally comes.

I’m sure you don't want to keep hearing about how much work you have to get done so let's fast forward, shall we?

“Hi,” he says, giving you a sweet smile.

“It’s you again,” you deadpanned, not having any time for the games he came here to play.

At this he let out a small laugh before cheerfully replying with, “what happened to ‘Welcome to Timebeam, what can I get you?’” mocking your voice from the night before, clearly teasing you.

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes before letting out a, “Welcome to Timebeam, what can I get you?” as you plastered the fakest smile you could ever give. He clearly found this amusing as his laughter rang loudly around the room, you swear it was even louder than the music that everyone was dancing to. Unexpectedly, you found yourself laughing along with him, causing him to stop and stare at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“Have a drink with me?” he pleaded

“Can’t drink on the job,” you replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Technically...you're not on the job anymore… it's 1 pm,” he points out, flashing you a smile

“And how would YOU know that?” you questioned, one eyebrow going up, hands crossed against your chest.

“Believe it or not i'm a very observant person, I noticed how you left right when the clock struck 1 last night,” he states proudly

“Oh so you're stalking me,” you challenged him, this time a smirk making its way onto your face making him laugh.

“Have a drink with me.” he ordered, obviously not asking anymore.

“Will you finally leave me alone if I do?”

And maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way that you’ve been missing the feeling of another body against yours but the next thing you know you find yourself walking into a motel room, your hands tangled in his hair, the taste of the bitter whiskey that you guys drowned evident on his plumped lips that were working its way against yours, pieces of clothing disappearing all over the room.

As things continue to get heated, you start tracing kisses from his neck, making your way down. However, in the midst of it all, before you got too lost in the feeling that he was giving you, you broke down. Chan stares at the wall ahead, the romantic mood in the air quickly disappearing as soon as he hears your cries. Honestly, he has no idea what to do. This was definitely one of the most awkward hookups he has ever encountered. Was he supposed to hug you? comfort you? Because let's be real here, he definitely did not come for that. As you regain your composure, you utter a soft, “sorry,” before putting your shirt back on and running out of there ashamed, leaving Chan half naked and confused to the scene that unfolded before him.

After a couple of minutes of composing himself, he walks back out into the busy city of Seoul, not expecting to see you sitting on the bench outside of the building, looking out at the lake that surrounds it. For a second, the city seemed to stop, the sound of the bustling cars and busy people all being drawn out as he takes a good look at you, your features being etched onto his mind.

What was it about you?

He can't seem to figure it out but he did know that you looked sad, and he never leaves a hook up without the girl feeling satisfied. So maybe it wasn't in the way he intended, but he will make you feel good.

three.

“So tell me, did I smell THAT bad that it led you to cry?” he jokes, trying to get you to laugh yet all he received was a stoic stare.

You felt him take a seat beside you, the cold air slightly getting warmer. “You know the drill right? None of the things that happened back there was real. It was just a spur of the moment thing and we’ll both go back to living our lives th-”

“Wait, wait, wait, what exactly happened back there?” he says his eyebrows raised, a cheeky smile on his lips

“I'm just saying that none of those feelings were real.”

“Trust me, I didn't have feelings there…but you..you seemed to have a lot,” he says teasingly, obviously hinting at the way you just cried and ran. You ignored it though, not really in the mood to talk about the scene that just took place as you were embarrassed enough and so you put on your strong front like you always do.

“Good. Because I’m telling you now that I’m not interested. And whatever happened will never happen again. So you can leave me alone now and move on to your next girl.”

“W-ow,” he says, holding a hand to his heart before letting out a laugh. “So this is how it feels…” he pondered out loud.

You give him a look, seeming to say, ‘how does what feel?’

“You see, I’ve just never been on this side before. I’m usually the one who pushes the girls away, the one who breaks it off. You know...this actually hurts a bit.” he states.

‘Psh of course he was,’ you thought to yourself. The boy's cocky behavior was evident from the start so of course his pride would hurt a bit now that he has been rejected but you remained from making any comments. You let the silence wash over the two of you, the only sound coming were from the small waves the lake was creating. For some reason, him just sitting next to you made you feel a little less lonely and so you basked in this moment of peace before it ended.

“You know...if you want...you can talk to me about it,” he says, finally breaking off the silence.

“What makes you think I would talk about my feelings to a complete stranger?” you shot back, really not understanding what the boy had in mind.

“Well you see, that's the beauty of it,” he says like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sensing that you still weren't convinced, he continued, “i’m a complete stranger, right?”

“Right.” you deadpanly replied

“Which means at the end of the day, my thoughts and my opinions don't matter to you... which also means you can open up to me because, well...one, i wont judge and two, even if i did, why would you even care what i think?... since i'm a stranger and all,” he explains, urging you to start sharing.

You stare at him for a bit, thinking to yourself if it was a smart idea to go along with what the boy has said.

“...or you can just keep staring at me like that, i don't mind it at all,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face as he turns to you. However you didn't look away, instead you examined his face even more, noticing the dimples that were coming out to play and the way that his eyes seem to smile along with his lips. He was definitely the type of man you’d fall for and if things weren’t how they were now, then maybe you would allow yourself to fall. Finally, straying your eyes off of him, you look back into the ocean.

“I’m just so tired..i-i want to have control. For once in my life, I want to live my life for myself and not for anyone else,” you mumbled.

He had a point. He is no one to you, just a stranger - a stranger that you would never have to talk to again. So why should you care how you look, why should you care enough to act strong?

And so you exploded, “I'm tired of always acting strong for everyone. I’m tired of pretending I’m fine with what's happening in my life. I’m tired of being compared to the people around me, reminding me that I’m not even nowhere close to where I want to be...i just..i just want to be happy,” all the feelings that you’ve kept to yourself finally tumbling out. Your tears flowing freely down your cheeks but you could care less. It felt good to finally say those words out loud. It might seem silly but just saying it out loud felt like a huge weight was taken off your shoulders.

He listens to your rant, wondering to himself how this broken girl in front of him still seems to be the most beautiful one he’s seen. The way your tears started falling, making your eyes glassy and your nose starting to get that hint of the color red… it was all beautiful to him. But the most beautiful of all were your words and the way you spoke. Out of all the strangers out there, he was the one lucky enough to be given the chance to meet you. The real you. No fake smiles, no cheery voice, just the painful words that finally matched the eyes he first met with.

After your long awaited confessions, he let the silence take over for a second before saying, “I want to have my own music studio,” he says, looking out at the ocean. “I want people to look at me and take me seriously…I want to show my dad how successful I can be without his help and his money,” he continues.

You realize now that opening up to him was one of the best things you could do. Because just like what he said, he didn’t judge you, hell, he didn’t even state his opinion. He just let you say what you were feeling...nothing more, nothing less.

He then stood up, standing on the ledge that separates him and the lake, raising his arms up like he was about to fly, he yelled out a loud, “I want to be happy!!!” and you swear the whole entire city could hear him but you could not have cared any less as your feet started making their way towards him, joining him on the ledge, as both of you started yelling out your wishes.

“Let’s work towards our dreams, yeah?” he says, turning to look at you, his eyes beady yet beautiful. It was like looking at the skies filled with twinkling stars, and his smile - wide and evident and all you could do was nod and mirror his expression.

four.

After some time, you guys finally got tired of screaming into the cold air. Sitting side by side on the ledge, you start a new conversation with him. After all, you guys are just strangers, it wouldn’t hurt you to know a little more about the guy in front of you.

“Have you ever been in love, Chan?” you ask, catching him off guard. He wasn’t expecting you to ask him any questions, hell, he wasn’t even expecting you to say goodbye. He thought you were just gonna get up, leave, and continue your life without acknowledging the scene that just happened.

“Why do you ask?” he replies, curious as to why you were suddenly interested in him.

“You just don’t seem like the type,” you answered honestly. Chan scoffs at this and you suddenly feel bad for asking but before you could apologize, he replied, “of course i’ve been in love, i am still human after all”

“What happened?” you ask. In a way, you're not quite sure why you kept asking him questions you're not that interested in knowing the answers to. All you know is that you don't want this night to end quite yet.

“I told her I loved her,” he expressed, his eyes immediately finding interest in his jeans as his fingers started to fiddle with the watch that seemed to be made specifically for his wrist.

“and then what happened?” you wondered what could possibly happen to turn Chan into the playboy that he seemed to be.

“Thats what happened,” he countered “I told her i loved her and she got scared and left, told me that she wasn’t expecting that to happen…i-i didn't know that that's how easy it was to scare a girl away, but now I do,” he says snickering.

“It's my party trick now, if i know i'm not interested, all i have to say is ‘i love you’,” he concluded, finishing his rambling.

“I love you.” you replied quickly, hoping that this will finally make him walk away and end this night because you couldn't find the courage to do so.

Upon hearing your words, he lets out a small giggle, “I’m sorry but…I don’t love you. I'm staying right here.”

five.

It’s been two weeks since that night and you haven’t seen the stranger that made such an impact on you. In the two weeks that have gone, you sometimes find yourself walking home through the path that passes the bench, hoping to even get the smallest glance of him. However, much to your dismay, you were always greeted with an empty bench, cold air nipping at your skin and the boy nowhere to be seen.

His friends were here though. Seated at their usual table, you go up to them as soon as you clock out, “Hi, I was wondering if you guys have seen Chan around?”

They all snicker at the sound of his name stumbling out of your lips and you immediately regret even asking in the first place until a voice coming from behind you breaks your thoughts, “hey stranger,” he says, his soft honey voice filling your ears and calming you down, the same way they did two weeks ago. As you turn to face him, you notice the same dimpled smile he was wearing, something that you didn’t realize you've missed seeing until now. You utter out a small, “hi,” as you slowly walk towards him.

He notices that you were out of your work clothes, your jacket in hand, “you wanna get out of here?” he asks quietly, for only the two of you to hear. All you could do was let out a small nod as he took his hands in yours. Pulling the two of you out of the bar, he waves to his group of friends to signal that he was leaving as his friends' cheers slowly diminished with every step. Chan never told them what happened that night so they assumed that you were just back for a second round with Mr. Bang, as they like to call him when he’s out doing his thing.

You guys ended up at a ramen place a couple of blocks down the bar. This part of Seoul is always alive so it didn’t take long for the two of you to find a place to settle in.

“So… why were you looking for me?”

He asked the question that you hoped you didn’t have to answer because frankly, you don’t even know the answer either.

The reason why you opened up to him in the first place was because he was a stranger to you. You never expected to be here, at 1:30 in the morning, eating a bowl of noodles and ruining your schedule for the brown-eyed, curly-headed man seated in front of you. If you were to be completely honest with yourself at this moment, you would say it was worth it. Instead however, you inhaled the ramen in front of you, choosing not to answer the question he laid out.

Chan, on the other hand, couldn’t help but let out a small smile. He could feel how flustered you were with him catching you red handed, asking his friends about him. Though you chose to ignore his question, he couldn’t be happier that he was given another moment to be with you and so he ate his ramen in silence, only the sounds of the busy streets can be heard around the two of you.

“I realized I never got the chance to thank you,” you say as soon as the last bit of noodle disappeared into your mouth.

“Thank me for what?” he says, eyebrows raised.

“Well, two weeks ago, a boy went up to me at the bar expecting to score but instead had to listen to me talk about all my problems,” you say, smiling sheepishly. “I want to thank that boy for letting me express my thoughts and not judging me for a single one,” you continue, your eyes avoiding contact with his. You aren’t the type to be so upfront with your feelings, usually choosing to bottle it all up, so saying all these things out loud were quite hard for you.

“I think the boy would say you’re welcome and that if you ever need another night like that then all you need to do is exchange numbers with him so you can easily reach him whenever you want,” he says, his small smile coming out to play.

“Is that your way of asking me for my number?” you teased

“maybe,” he replies, letting out a small smirk as he hands you his phone.

After inputting your number into his phone, you looked up at him, “i love you,” you say jokingly.

Chan, quickly remembering what you are referring to, replied with a “sorry, i still don't love you,” and all you could do was let out a laugh.

He quickly joins you, your guys’ laughter mixing in with the sound of the busy streets and Chan swears that he’s never heard anything more beautiful.

six.

‘Where are you right now?’

A text on your phone read, coming from the one and only Bang Chan.

‘At home, why?’

‘I got you coffee :)’

Your heart stops a beat. Something that you find has been frequently happening ever since Chan stopped being a stranger. Ever since that night, you and Chan have been texting non-stop. However, you’re very much aware that this could never develop into something more than it is now as the days you had left in this city were starting to diminish and Chan knew that as well. You told him about it through text one night. Explaining to him that once you’re done with school, you would be making your way to Canada to finally start the life that you’ve been dreaming of.

At first, Chan was angry at the world for letting him meet you just to take you away a couple months after. However, he never let it be known to you as he acted nonchalant, like the information you spread out to him didn’t just hurt him. He contemplated whether or not he should allow himself to get more attached, but after a day of not talking to you he realized that he already was. Which brings us to now with Chan standing outside of your apartment, choosing to sacrifice his whole heart out on the line just so he can still be with you. After all, you guys don't have forever.

Quickly glancing out your apartment window, there he was, a black beanie on his head paired with his regular black hoodie and jeans, your cup of coffee sitting right in between his hands, the only thing that's providing him any source of warmth in the cold air. You made your way out of your room as quickly as possible so that you could finally let him in.

“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” you say as you take a sip from the cup of coffee that he handed to you.

“Still stressed about the big test, huh?” he commented, taking a seat on your bed that was right next to your study table.

“Yeah, I just can't seem to understand this topic,” you replied, letting out a frustrated sigh, “like, I’ve read it over and over again and it's just so… so complicated!... my professor never went over this in class so i don't understand why it's even on the test to begin with,” you cursed, a frown making its way upon your face.

“Let me take a look at it,” Chan extends his hands out, reaching for your notebook as you give him a questioning look.

“Ok y/n, im smarter than I look,” he scoffs as you put your hands up in defense, “i didn't say anything!”

“You didn’t have to, your face says it all,” he bickered as you uttered out a soft sorry and slumped down on your chair, choosing to focus on the coffee cup instead while Chan read your notes.

“Oh this is easy! I could teach you!” he exclaimed as your eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

“Are you serious!? Chan please tell me you're not joking, you're literally my last hope!” you say dramatically, quickly rushing to his side so that he can finally start explaining to you the topic that you've been trying to make sense of for the past 3 hours.

1 hr later

“... and that’s how you do it,” he declared.

“holy shit, you’re amazing,” you say excitedly, “i cannot believe i've spent so much time on this for it to be that simple! ugh! I love you!,” you continue, the buzz from the coffee and the happiness from finally understanding something that has left you puzzled for hours letting you feel like you're on cloud nine.

Too caught up in your feelings of accomplishment, you didn’t even notice the way Chan didn't retort with his famous, “i don't love you,” line but instead was looking at you like you held all the stars in the world in your fingertips.

seven.

“You’re texting y/n again huh?” Felix chimes in as he walks into the apartment that he shared with Chan and Minho.

“How’d you know?” Chan asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“You’re literally grinning like a child on christmas day,” Minho teases, the smirk on his lips getting wider with every second.

“Man, you’re whipped,” Felix jokes as he and Minho erupted into a series of laughter, never expecting this day to come especially with the reputation that Chan had.

“But bro, let me remind you that y/n is leaving soon,” Minho points out, his responsible side kicking in. They’re very much aware of the situation at hand and he knows that once you leave then they’ll be the ones to have to pick up the pieces. That was something that none of the boys were looking forward to. They’ve all seen Chan at his worst, all experiencing the day Chan fell in love for the first time and was left broken hearted, morphing into the playboy that he is, or was, until he met you. It felt like a repeat of history to them. As much as they wanted to like you they couldn’t allow themselves to get attached to you the way that Chan already has. However, they still supported the two of you and whatever the hell your guys’ relationship was. The both of you chose not to put any type of label on it as there would honestly be no use since you were eventually going to leave.

“What if...what if I can show her that she doesn’t need to move away to be successful?” Chan wondered. Actually he’s been thinking about it for a few days now.

“And how exactly are you gonna do that?” Felix questioned curiosity getting the best of him. As much as possible he wants to help his friend, who is practically like a brother to him. If there was any way to get you to stay then he would very much contribute to the plan.

On the other hand, Minho was more of a realist, “She’s been wanting to leave years before she even met you, you think a boy would change that decision for her?”

See, in this whole situation Felix and Minho were like the devil and angel on Chan’s shoulders. One was always a ray of light, allowing him to have hope while the other was always harsh and truthful, reminding him of reality. You can choose who’s playing the part.

“I just- maybe...maybe if i show her that she can have everything that she's been dreaming of here, then she’ll stay,” Chan continues, “I can make things easier for her like bringing her food when she needs it, i’ll help her find a better job so she doesn’t have to strain herself all the time, hell, if that’s not enough, I’ll even reach out to my dad if I have to.”

Chan and his father’s relationship was an iffy one. They used to be close until Chan decided that he would be pursuing music instead of the law career that his dad has been trying to implement on him ever since he was young. Obviously, it didn’t end well for the pair. His dad’s pride was crushed as he was always gloating about how his eldest son would be taking over the firm soon. Eventually the atmosphere in the house became so thick that Chan decided to move out, only meeting up with them during the holidays.

But for you, he’s willing to move past that. He was willing to give up his dignity if it meant a forever with you was possible. He felt like he finally found the missing piece in his life and the thought of having to let it go without even putting up a fight just doesn’t sit right with him. Chan was desperate and as soon as the other boys heard his proposition, they immediately knew how important you actually were to him.

“I think it could work,” Felix exclaims, cracking a smile out of Chan however it was short lived as Minho followed shortly after, “but is that what she wants?”

eight.

2 months. That’s the remaining time he had with you. Chan felt like he was in the fourth stage of the Kubler-Ross grief cycle even though he hasn’t even lost you. From the day you met at the bar to now, the past 3 months of his life have been the most thrilling and heart racing moments he has ever had. Laughing with you, eating with you, just being with you is always the best part of his day.

Lately it’s been harder for the two of you to meet up though as Chan was busy with his music career. After multiple days of you ordering the DJ in Timebeam to play Chan’s music, a producer finally took interest in the music he has been making and gave him a chance to work with them.

Even though this meant taking up the time that you two had together, you couldn’t be prouder. After countless nights of deep talks with him, you knew that this was his dream. You supported him from a distance and listened to him talk about the experience every night, his voice becoming your daily lullaby. For Chan, it was a sign from the universe. Something that was telling him that if he really lands this as his permanent job then he will be able to help you financially, meaning that you didn’t have to go.

You were staying in his apartment for the night as you missed the presence of the boy so you decided to just do all your studying there. What was that phrase? Killing two birds with one stone.

“Dinners ready,” he says, popping his head in calmly so as to not disrupt you. “Ok, i'll be there in a sec,” you acknowledged as you finish the last bit of your essay. Honestly, you thought that you were just going to end netflix and chilling with Chan so you pat yourself in the back, feeling proud that you actually accomplished the assignment that you had to do.

Eventually you take the seat in front of Chan, ready to dig into the spaghetti that he has prepared but before you could even transfer some to your plate, he stops you, “nu-uh wait,” he says, lightly smacking your hand away from the plate, leaving you with a pout. He laughs at you before placing a soft kiss upon your rosy lips, giving you a feeling that you just can’t seem to get over and then heading to the fridge to grab the bottle of wine that he was cooling. It was just you and Chan tonight, the other boys going out to Timebeam, as usual.

“What's up with the fancy wine?” you say teasingly, “are you trying to get into my pants because i'm pretty sure that already happened,” you conclude, emitting a laugh from the both of you.

“Well…I got the job and I wanted to celebrate a little,” he beamed, his smile widening with every second.

“oh my god?!! That's amazing!!” you cheered, immediately jumping up to give him the biggest hug your tiny frame could muster.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he expressed as you kissed him all over, your heart bursting of happiness for the boy in front of you. He did it. He is finally going to be able to live out his dream.

“We should probably eat now before the spaghetti gets cold,” he says in chuckles as you kiss him once more on the lips before going back to your seats. The two of you talk about your days as you guys ate, really savoring this heartfelt moment.

“So I was thinking,” Chan hesitated, “what if you don’t move to Canada?”

And with that one small sentence, the light hearted air suddenly turned thick. Slowly placing your fork down, you stare at the black shirt Chan was wearing, trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth.

“wh-what?” you say, your voice faltering.

“I did it y/n… I got the job, i-i can help you and your family, i-”

“When did I say yes to that?” you ask sternly. The cheerful mood completely diminishing into thin air.

“Well, you don’t have to say yes, I’ll do it for you in a heartbeat-” the boy says, his heart completely filled with pure intentions but you were furious.

“You don’t get to decide things for me, Chan.”

“please, y/n,” he begged as he cautiously reached out for your hand however you removed it off the table as soon as you noticed, your eyes still refusing his gaze.

“y/n I love you, I did all this for us,” Chan continues, noticing that he is now speaking to the girl that he met that night. He was not going to let you shut all your emotions down. You, on the other hand, recognizes the effect that the boy had in you and you knew that once you stared at those brown eyes of his then you were done for - you’d give up everything and you could not be that weak. Not after everything you’ve gone through to get to where you are.

“If you love me then why are you making me choose?” you questioned, unsure of how to feel at the moment.

“y/n please.. if you love me then choosing wouldn’t be so hard!” he retaliated, the tears he has been desperately trying to hold back finally falling.

“I never said I did.” you gulped, regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth.

nine.

It’s been a week since that dreadful conversation yet nothing can get Chan to leave the couch. Sitting there dumbfoundedly, your words felt like a gunshot to his heart and he can’t believe he let himself fall in love again after swearing it off the first time. He needed a drink. Anything to stop the words that just seem to keep replaying in his head. Staggering over to the kitchen, he easily spots the last bottle of beer in the back of the fridge but before he could take a nice long swig, it was being taken away from him.

“Dude what the fuck?!”

“How long are you gonna do this for?” deadpanned Minho as Chan let out a frustrated groan, “Can’t you just leave me alone? You don’t understand how I feel Minho, you’ve never been in love!” he scoffed, yanking the bottle out of Minho's grip.

Minho didn’t let this get to him. Unlike Felix, Minho wasn’t afraid of Chan and had no problem with putting Chan back into his place, so he grabbed the bottle of beer and smashed it down the ground.

“Dude are you fucking serious right now?! That was the last one!” Chan yells frustratingly before pushing Minho away from his sight, a lot rougher than he would if he soberly knew what he was doing.

“Am I serious?? Am I fucking serious?!” Minho snaps, finally reaching his breaking point.

“It’s 10:30 in the morning Chan! You’ve been drinking all week! You haven’t showed up to any of your meetings and we’ve all been making excuses for you!! You already lost the girl are you gonna fucking lose your dream job too!” Minho fumed. He hated the fact that it has come to this but he hated seeing his best friend lose himself more.

So yeah, he’ll play the villain in Chan’s eyes for a while but that's only because he truly cares for him.

“You really thought she was just gonna drop everything for you, huh,” he scoffs, “Wake up call Chan! you knew from the beginning she wasn't that type of girl so stop acting pathetic because we don’t feel bad for you.”

“You’ll move on. You’ve done it before. Just don’t take too long this time before you lose everything else,” he finishes before storming out of the apartment, the door slamming loudly as Chan finds himself back into what seemed to be his favorite place of the week - the couch.

“He’s right you know,” Felix says softly after hearing the commotion through his room. Picking up the pieces of glass that have shattered across the floor and cleaning up the mess that his older brothers have created, Chan sighs, a headache starting to form “Felix, I don’t need this from you right now too.”

“Hyung, i'm just saying...you did know the situation at hand before you even entered it,” Felix mumbled as carefully as possible.

“What do you think I should do?” Chan muttered, finally giving into the words that were being said.

“Honestly, I think you should talk to y/n” Felix admitted. With the mention of your name, Chan sits up, his attention solely focused on the younger boy in front of him, “you love her, right?” Felix questions.

“Yeah, but that's not the problem-”

“Hyung, let me talk first,” Felix sheepishly smiles, lowkey scared that Chan would burst again if he pushed his limits.

“S-sorry, yeah… go on,” Chan nodded, urging for him to speak.

“Well, how I see it, you took the risk of loving her even though you knew there was a timer that was going to go off as soon as these 5 months are over. You’ve already made it to the fourth month. What's one month more?” Felix reckoned.

“So you’re saying, I should go back to her?” Chan questioned, confused as to why Felix would suggest it when he thought that they wanted him to move on from her.

“Not go back to her but maybe fix it, she only has one month left, and you’ve created this out to be the perfect relationship… you don’t want to look back at this moment and think what could have happened in the last month,” Felix states, giving Chan a small smile before wiping off the spilled beer and making his way back into his room, leaving Chan to himself.

After a couple of minutes of just thinking to himself, Chan finally gains the courage to pick up his phone and text you.

‘Meet me at the place I first met you tonight after your shift... please.’

ten.

The place he first met you. You figured it was at the Timebeam and so you waited, keeping an eye on his usual table so that you could easily notice once he made his way here.

After waiting 30 minutes, the boy is nowhere to be seen, leading you to wonder if this was all some sort of sick joke. A way to get back at you for hurting him the way you did but that part of you that loves him won’t let you think of him in such a malicious way and so with your head drooped down, you ventured out of the crowdy club and into the streets of Seoul, pushing away all the thoughts of the curly-headed boy.

You were starting to have doubts. Seoul was what you were familiar with and in 30 days time you’re gonna have to leave the place you’ve grown accustomed to.

Who am I kidding?

You’ve been waiting to leave this place as soon as you got here. You were having these second thoughts because you wished for a different ending. One where Chan doesn’t hate your guts. Maybe one that ends as perfectly as it started.

And then it hits you. The place he first met you.

You ran. You ran as fast as your legs could take you and there he was - sitting on the same bench, looking out at the shining lake, his hands being kept warm by the pockets of his hoodie. Suddenly the busy streets of Seoul didn’t seem to be as busy anymore.

You walk towards him slowly, engraving his features into your mind, taking a mental picture. Chan was a sight to see and you didn’t want to forget it when you’re 5,000 miles away. Carefully, you take the seat beside him, he doesn’t spare you a glance and you were too ashamed to look at him but you do hear the sigh that comes out of his lips.

Chan finally lets out the breath he’s been holding as soon as he felt your warm body take the seat next to him. After waiting for almost an hour, he was terrified that you were never going to show up and that he wouldn't have a chance to fix the mess he has created. But now he was anxious because he didn’t really think of what he was going to say and you’re here, sitting beside him, the smell of your perfume intoxicating him with every second that passes. Instead of accidentally blurting out something stupid, he stays still, not even sparing you a glance in order to compose his thoughts until you broke them.

“I love you,” you confessed.

Chan chuckles, still looking out at the lake, “are you saying that because you want the bench all to yourself?” he jokes, trying to lighten the air but you weren’t in the mood for any jokes. Facing him, you gather all the confidence that you could muster up, “No. I love you,” you confessed for the second time and Chan couldn’t help but let a tear fall from his eyes as he smiled a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” he says sniffling, finally facing you as you slowly wipe his tears away.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I don't know why I said it...i-,” you blabbered, trying to comfort him.

“That’s okay,” Chan says, cutting you off, “I know why,” he says, a sad tone laced within his voice, “it’s for your dream,” he finishes, shooting you a warm smile. You mirror his expression, glad that he knows that you didn’t actually mean what you said that night.

“I actually have to be the one saying sorry,” he starts, “it wasn’t fair of me to ask you to choose...im sorry y/n,” he says apologetically and all you wanted to do was bury yourself into the crook of his neck and never let go.

Instead you grabbed his hand, lacing it with yours. The feeling of his hands enveloping yours like before felt like home.

“I’m scared,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Chan grips onto your hand tighter, letting you know that he was there and he will always be there for as long as you let him.

eleven.

Waking up to the sounds of the birds chirping instead of your alarm blaring was truly a phenomenal feeling. It’s your last week and having just resigned from your jobs, you had all the time to yourself. Well…yourself and Chan. You promised him that you were all his this week, something that he asked from you a week before.

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to propose to you,” he says one night as he was walking you home from work.

“Hmm, what is it?”

Getting down on one knee, your eyes widen in shock but quickly regain your composure when you see him pulling nothing but a finger heart from his pocket, “Will you spend your last week in Seoul with me?”

As you think back to that night you never noticed how fast the time came. That fear in the back of your head tends to resurface time and time again however you always had Chan to remind you that you were strong enough for the journey that lies ahead. It’s crazy to think that you won't have that luxury a week from now.

“hmm, what are you thinking about?” a groggily Chan asks from right next to you,

“Just how much I love waking up with you next to me,” you say teasingly.

A smile immediately emerges upon his face as he grabs you close to him, settling his face on the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you.

“I have a lot planned for this week,” he mutters, badly trying to shake the sleep away but with you right beside him, he couldn’t help but fall into a deeper slumber.

“I can’t wait,” you yawned, following him shortly after.

twelve.

Namsan Seoul Tower - the last place on Chan’s list.

Two days before your flight.

This week was just filled with Chan taking you to places you have never been before and you realized how beautiful South Korea was when it didn’t deal with you having to take care of drunk people and/or arguing with your professors.

You’ve gained so much more love for this country in the short amount of time you were with Chan than the two years you’ve actually stayed here. It sucked that you never got the chance to explore the place earlier but you were glad that Chan was the one to be able to show you the wonders that it truly holds.

“Baby which lock color do you want?” he asks as you guys find a lock to purchase.

“The black one is nice,” you say, “we could write on it using white marker, I think it’ll stand out more,” you added as Chan immediately picked up the items and paid for them.

As you guys make your way to where the bridge was, you noticed how many couples there were at this place. Everyone has a hand to hold on to, different laughters filling the air and you love the way that Chan and you seem to fit right into the equation. With his fingers in between yours, you look up at him, memorizing every detail.

“We’re here,” he says as you grab the lock from his hand, writing out the words:

“C + (y.in) forever”

Ironic, the word forever.

But who knows? maybe somewhere down the road, forever is for the two of you.

Chan wraps his arms from behind you as you both look at the scenic view ahead. “I’ll always love you,” you say for only him to hear and he muffles back a tear before mimicking your words.

“I’ll always love you too.”

thirteen.

“Chan, thank you,” you say as you guys sat on your favorite bench, enjoying the last night you had together.

“For what?” he says, his thumb slowly grazing over your hands providing the comfort that you were so used to.

“For letting me live my dream.”

fourteen.

Chan dropped you off at the airport. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing you could do, clinging onto him and inhaling every memory of him with you.

Nonetheless, as soon as they called your flight, you left - not even sparing a single glance back. Chan didn’t expect any less though, in fact he hoped that you won’t look back because if you did then he probably would have never let you go.

Chan will always be etched into your mind as the boy who loved you and let you be you and you can’t thank him enough.

fifteen.

3 years later

Looking back at your life in Seoul, you don't even remember the blaring alarms and the loud drunks that you had to deal with on the daily. Instead, memories that include holding a hand and sharing a laugh - memories that lasted only for a moment, were the ones that you remember most.

(a/n): If you’re reading this then thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope you guys had as much fun reading it than i did writing it. feedback are always welcomed!!! i might not respond to all of them but i do see all the comments and they always make me smile :)

(the only reason i don’t respond is because my main tumblr blog shows up and shes kinda ugly lolol - but you guys can drop stuff off in my asks and ill make sure to reply there)

again, thank you for reading!!! <3

128 notes · View notes

reeesea · 4 years

Text

Something Sweet: Part Six

~something sweet?~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mild language

words: 4k ish

summary: Is this a date? Minho didn't know, and he had a feeling Jisung didn't really know either.

a/n: Its been a while but I hope you enjoy this 4k of just minsung~

~~~~~

Minho walked out the staff door over to the back entrance of the bar finding the quiet and comfortably lit room to be filled with casual chatter from the regulars, and the quiet lyricless mood music filling the space just enough to make silence comfortable. He spots his most recent customer sitting at the bar sipping through a straw at a drink that looks something like a strawberry daiquiri, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. The blue light from Jisung's phone creating a soft contrast to the warm light of their surroundings, making his eyes look brighter than anything else in the space.

Jisung spots Minho before he gets to him, and his signature happy heart lights up his face once again.

Minho sits on a bar stool, “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Oh no don’t worry I just ordered. Im happy to buy you a drink too if you want." Jisung fumbled with his sleeves as he spoke.

"I would’ve already but I wasn’t sure what you liked, or what you’d be in the mood for.”

Minho laughed softly at the boy's offer, and his blatant offering of his pocket book.

“Don't worry about it, Jisung I can buy my own drink. Besides, I’m not too sure what I want yet either.” While Minho looked at the menu a surprisingly unawkward silence fell over them. Most of their conversations were over text and getting to see one another in person was largely rare. Jisung was surprised that even with the initial anticipation and nervousness of getting to see Minho again, once he was sitting in his company nothing ever felt awkward or wrong.

Something about the older man made him feel free to wear his heart on his sleeve. Something Jisung already regularly does, but with Minho he feels safe to do so. Minho would always respond to Jisung’s musings with support or equal enthusiasm, and always returned his jokes and flirting with the smile that made Jisungs heart tug in his chest.

Getting to see his face was almost an added bonus to getting to be with Minho again. No one would deny that his features were beautiful. His face was set with delicate features that were contrasted by the strong and confident way he held himself. His eyes were large and curious in a way that would be described as innocent looking, if Jisung hadn’t already witnessed the mischievous glint they could also hold. He took his time to take in Minho’s details, in order to commit them to memory. Why? He didn’t really know all he knew was that it felt important, and that if he didn't he would regret it later.

“You know, if you take a picture it'll last longer.” Minho said, having just ordered some random mixed drink Jisung didn’t recognize, before returning the younger’s not so subtle stares.

“Maybe but I feel like most people are against having their picture taken without their consent”

“Well you have mine now.” The smirk already returned to his face, causing Jisung’s ears to glow red. Despite his embarrassment Jisung fumbled to retrieve his phone, loading up the camera.

“Alright Hyung ready for your close up?” Minho only responded with a seemingly fond chuckle while settling into a nonchalant pose, allowing Jisung to take a couple of flattering shots.

“Dang hyung, why aren’t you a model. Look at this one.” Jisung waved his phone in front of the other’s face scrolling to a specifically nice photo of Minho’s side profile.

Minho scoffed. “Oh I’m so much more than just a pretty face. Don't you know that already Jisungie~” Jisung looks like we were about to object before Minho softly waved him off with a chuckle.

"I’m just joking. And I don't know, I suppose my career just never swung that way.”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never been scouted before.”

“I suppose you are right, I have been. I just chose to finish school instead." Minho stared at his newly acquired drink with THAT expression Jisung still couldn't quite read.

Jisung remembered Minho talking about having graduated university recently, but other than that and his job at the restaurant, much of Minho's career is somewhat of a mystery to him.

Minho sipped his drink at the brief pause before asking, "How are you doing Jisung? I know its been a while since we last actually talked”

The sigh Jisung let out told much of the busy week he's had.

Debut clean up, photo shoots, meetings, and practice, and late night producing before sleep.

The audible groan and head on the table was answer enough that the week he was having had been rough.

“I suppose I’m fine. Just overwhelmed. But I also feel bad for being so overwhelmed, I should be excited. I mean I’m so lucky…” Minho nodded along although confused as to what exactly the other was referencing. Jisung mumbled more before pausing. Jisung felt somewhat conflicted on if he should be spilling his groups practically secret debut preparations, but the kind look on Minho's face felt like reason enough to defy his agreement with his company.

"Okay so, we're preparing for debut right? And I should be SOO thankful that I even get to and be excited about it. But I don't know what it is about this week. I just feel so ridiculously over my head and exhausted.” Jisung sighed again loudly, "Oh shit I'm not supposed to tell anyone that…."

Minho laughs at the younger's surprised puppy eyes before promising not to tell anyone.

“Here, pinky promise.” Extending his hand to offer his finger felt a little juvenile for them, but either way it got Jisung to smile and feel comfortable so that's all that mattered. He would do anything to ease Jisung’s mind even for a moment. “Well congratulations Jisung. If anyone deserves the recognition it's you three.”

Jisung smiles softly at his drink, “Thanks hyung, that means a lot… Just these past few weeks I’ve felt pretty useless. We're still busy making songs like everyday, but I’m just not coming up with lyrics as quickly as I usually do. And I’m always confused during our meetings with the company. I guess I just am having some rough writer’s block or something."

"I suppose I can understand, except honestly I feel like I've had a creative block for the past few months." Minho’s laugh still sounded as soft as ever, but the unreadable expression on his face made it hard to believe. That expression was slowly becoming Jisung’s least favorite thing.

"What you stuck on?"

"Just in a rut. Lately I have been feeling like I’m just moving to move, working to get by. Even with dancing, I feel like I’m just doing it for the crew. I haven't been creative in MONTHS." Minho’s smile didn't reach his eyes that time, and it may or may not have broken Jisung’s heart a little.

Determined to bring back the crescent eyed expression, Jisung decided that he would find a way to inspire Minho again. The older had been close to his only muse during his writer’s block and it seemed only fair to try and return the favor.

"Do you ever choreograph then?”

"In college I did, and when the other members ask for help, but not really"

"WELL, I don't know anything about dancing BUT I know that when I freestyle or when I write something really good, it reminds me of why I love creating so much. Maybe you just need a reminder."

"Yeah…. Maybe I do" The expression Minho wore now was something closer to contemplative than the somber expression he had been wearing, so Jisung took that as a small victory.

A new determined expression stretched across Minho’s face, "Okay no more sad talk Han Jisung. Let's make our weeks better right here, right now"

Jisung liked this new side of Minho much more, "How do we do that hyung?" Puppy eyes on full display.

Minho downed the rest of his drink, prompting Jisung to follow. Which he did although much more tentatively, "Well honestly, I don’t know but that karaoke machine’s looking pretty tempting right about now."

“I didn't know you sang hyung?”

“I definitely don't willingly, but after this week, give me one more drink and I’m game.”

---

A few more drinks and few poorly sung karaoke songs later the two were back to sitting at the bar. More times than either of them could count they had found themselves smiling at each other without the other noticing. It was obvious that both of them hadn't been this happy in a while. Minho was on maybe his fourth drink and Jisung on his third.

“I can’t believe that Felix saw Binnie-hyung the other night? And he talked to him?? Like willingly?” Jisung seemingly was in disbelief that his elder groupmate would actually talk to a stranger willingly.

“Yeah, Lix about had a heart attack when he saw it was Changbin though. Felix is not exactly subtle with his emotions, and hes like your guy’s biggest fan.”

“He seemed so chill when we met him at busking though”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure he was holding his breath the entire time.” Jisung’s laugh filled the bar with such a bright sound that Minho couldn’t help but laugh along too. That seems to be happening a lot. Jisung’s laugh must just do that, Minho supposes.

“You’re roommates seem really cool though. I’d love to meet them and get to spend time with you again.” The lazy, probably tipsy grin that was plastered on Jisung’s face, as well as his request to spend more time with him turned Minho’s cheeks red. But if anyone would have asked, he would have blamed it on the alcohol.

“They’d love that we don't get out much as a trio. And Hyun and Lix love new prey- I mean people.” The mischievous grin reappeared on his face at the chance to tease his roommates some more.

“Oh come on I’m sure they’re not that bad hyung. Me, Chan and Bin-hyung are like the opposite. We never go out and rarely meet new people our age. I think Sana-noona is the first new person we’ve collectively interacted with since like 2018.”

“Well now you can say you’ve interacted with three more people your age, with me and my roommates. Although I have a feelin the whole of us together would be a chaotic affair”

“That sounds so fun!” Jisung couldn’t help but perk up at the idea of hanging out with people his age other than Chan and Changbin. He still want to experience the ‘normal’ and ‘cliche’ hangouts of those in their twenties. Much of which he feels he has already lost due to 3RACHA’s continual pursuit of a career. Having not even finished high school in pursuit of his dreams, Jisung couldn’t help but yearn just a bit for the lives of his peers, and to experience all the things he had missed. Jisung, even more unfiltered than usual due to a few drinks in his system, sighed loudly.

“You sure? That sigh sounded a little heavy for you. You tired of me already?” Minho couldn’t keep the concern and anxiety from peaking out even just a bit. Alcohol had always made him a bit more emotionally sensitive and transparent.

“Oh! NO No no, I would totally love to spend more time with you. Honestly more than anything else.” Jisungs tried to hide his embarrassment of getting sentimental out of nowhere.

“I uh- I just don’t get out much. I wasn’t kidding when I said we never go out. If we didn't have our performances, all three of us would probably never leave our apartment, and it’s just always been like that since we formed our group.” It took all his will not to let another sigh slip from his mouth.

Minho’s smile softened along with his eyes. Jisung had been nothing but kind and charming to him, seeing another side of the boy, the more troubled and emotional side, only made the boy more endearing to him. Minho couldn’t help but want to keep him close. In a way it was similar to how he felt for Felix and Hyunjin, but there was something more than just the hyung mentality kicking in.

“Well you have me now, right? I mean plus Felix and Hyunjin I guess. They're kinda freebies, and tag along whether you want them or not.”

“Yeah, I guess I do have you now.” The heart, although smaller, reappeared on Jisungs face, and it was a victory enough. Minho hoped that Jisung would accept whatever bizarre friendship they had. Somehow their friendship, although came out of nowhere, really felt like it was what both of them were needing.

“Also I don't know what professional rapper Han Jisung will be up too once he debuts, but Felix’s birthday is coming up and he loves making a whole night of it. Dressing up, going out, dancing, getting wasted off fruity drinks, he loves it. Anyway I’m sure he’d love it if you wanted to come, you could probably even bring your plus twos.”

“REally?!” Jisung’s eyes brightened and his smile grew to stretch the full length across his face.

“Of course, really! I just invited you, dummy.” Minho was sure Felix really wouldn’t mind. If anything he could frame it as a birthday present that he got 3RACHA to come to his birthday party. Win-win. Minho couldn’t help but notice the brightness of the smile on Jisung’s face when he mentioned it. Just shows how much the idea of spreading time with them really meant to Jisung. Adorable. That may have been the real win.

The two sat in silence for sometime. Nursing their unfinished drinks and fighting the uncontrollable grins from fully forming on their faces. Comfortable silence is a rare occurrence for the pair, but somehow they found it with each other on their first date? Outing? Minho didn't know what this was, and something told him Jisung had no idea either.

“Soooo is this that date I was promised or are we gonna ambiguously hang out for a bit longer?” Jisung looked a bit taken aback but commenced rambling to make up for it.

“I kinda had hoped that our first date would be more exciting than me visiting you after work on a whim. I honestly just came in hoping to see you. To be honest I didn't think I would get this far, also I don't even know when your free next, or when I’m free next, and our schedules lining up seems kinda unlikely, But more than anything I would love to take you out a real unambiguous date, ya know so you dont think im some unromantic fool whos all talk and no walk- ”

“Jisung.” As endearing as Jisung’s unbridled rambling was, it did make the boy a little hard to handle. Not that Minho minded at all.

“Yes?...” Jisung’s puppy dog eye forever making a reappearance.

“Would you like to go get dinner with me the next time you are free?”

“Yes I would like that very much.” He even nodded enthusiastically.

“Good then our first date is set, you just tell me when and where.” Minho shot a wink the younger’s way. Jisung’s joyful smile didn't seem to have left his face anytime in the past hour.

---

Exiting the bar the pair walked side by side, hands brushing past each other in almost every step, remaining just tipsy enough for physical boundaries to blurr, but for the most part sobering up for their journeys home.

“I’m going to call a car to get home, do you need a ride?” Jisung offered hoping to spend even a few more minutes with the other boy. Seeing as their next meeting date was still only a concept.

Minho hesitated a second, “No, it's alright I can walk, it's not that much further to my bus stop.” He flashed the younger a smile, that was probably meant to be reassuring, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes.

“Please, I’d feel better knowing you got home safe. And its really no problem.”

“Are you saying that I can’t make it home on my own Han Jisung? Don’t forget whos the hyung here. I usually walk home even later on my closing shifts!”

“Nonono, I am just concerned and feel like it would be the “gentleman” thing to do.” Jisung put heavy finger quotes over ‘gentleman’.

“Oh and since when have you every cared about being a gentleman? Hm?” Minho’s smirk made Jisung laugh, and it seemed the older man wouldn’t easily accept his ride offer.

“Pah. I am always a gentleman. Thank you very much. And since you won’t accept my offer please at least let me know when you get home safely.” Jisung pulled his puppy eyes out one more time, and even grabbed Minho’s hand for emphasis.

Minho couldn't deny that the others' soft hold on his own hand and his soft expression, had made his heart skip a couple beats.

“I’ll text you when I get home, Jisung. Promise.” Squeezing his hand softly for reassurance, he smiled, before having to actively pry his hand away from the warmth and comfort of Jisung’s hand. “Goodnight Jisung.”

“G-Goodnight Minho-hyung.” Jisung stood and watched as the older man rounded the corner, to his supposed bus stop, trying his hardest not to miss the warmth that his presence had emitted next to him for the past couple hours.

Damn it I really am gone huh. Jisung’s smile only grew though, at the surprising realization that he had somehow gained a real relationship from his serendipitous run in with the waiter. Thanking past-Jisung for whatever he had done to deserve getting to spend the last few hours with a man that was like something out of his dreams.

---

Minho walked home with a smile on his face, but couldn't fight the slight guilt of having to turn down another one of Jisung’s generous offers. Minho wished the part of him that wanted to hide who he was would die off, but sadly the fear of Jisung seeing how small, and honestly shitty, the place he lived was, kept him from letting the sweet boy give him a ride. The more rational part of his brain knew that Jisung wouldn’t care about how he lived or how much money he had, but the fear still won. At least for now.

Minho climbed up the stairs to their apartment, and unlocked the door, with a small shake. The lock was sticky most days. With the door secured behind him he found a Hyunjin stretched out on their pull out couch, as some western cartoon played on the TV. Minho switched off the screen and threw a blanket over his roommate so he wouldn’t wake up freezing in the middle of the night. Their heating and cooling was anything but consistent.

Checking the clock on the stove told him that it was already close to the middle of the night anyway. He could hear his second roommate rustle around in his own bed behind their living room screen, as Minho made his way to his own bed. Often being the last come home, he made sure to be quiet as he got ready for bed. Even with the three boys' collective late night shifts, they tended to still have early mornings together, for dance and other performances. Sleep was their time and it was usually limited time.

Before officially climbing in bed Minho remembered to text, as he promised, to let Jisung know he was safe.

Rich boy Han Jisung

12:34am

Home safe, as expected :]

HYUNG!

You’re safe!

I’m so glad :]

I had a great time tonight

As soon as I know I will let you know when I am free

Ya know

For dinner

I had fun tonight too Jisung~

Can’t wait

Gn :)

Sleep tight hyung! ^u^

---

Jisung attempted to enter his apartment quiet and inconspicuously, but sadly forgot to take into account the fact that his roommates seldom sleep like normal human beings. He entered their loft to Chan currently raiding the kitchen, and Changbin glued to his laptop in their connected living room. As soon as he walked into the well lit hallway, his two flatmates threw him a few raised eyebrows and subtle smirks.

Jisung hadn’t exactly announced his leaving. The three of them were originally working on a track when the youngest had gotten frustrated and left with not much more than a mumble that usually signified that he was “taking a walk”. Clearly that walk had taken him close to 4 more hours than usual, hence the raised eyebrows. In attempts to fight the awkward and accusing silence that filled the room, Jisung hoped to lighten the mood. Or atleast get his hyungs to avoid teasing him for now.

“...I brought take out.” Did Jisung purposely stop at a take out restaurant just to potentially bribe his hyungs not to tease him? Maybe.

It worked, at least partially as Chan made his way from his spot in front of the opened fridge to Jisung to eagerly collect the bribe. The oldest rapper always had a soft spot. It was his stomach.

Changbin on the other hand, still kept his questioning look on his face that seemed to say Where have you been for the last 4 hours Han Jisung? Clearly Jisung was avoiding that look, and decided the chicken he had brought was suddenly the most interesting food ever. He was happy, happy and his hyungs knew him well enough that four hours walking around and fried chicken weren’t the reason he was practically giddy.

“So Sungie, find anything else exciting on your little walk? Other than fried chicken?” Still actively avoiding Changbin’s gaze. Jisung simply shrugged, but the wide grin on his face or the pink tint to his ears, were enough to confirm whatever Changbin’s assumptions had been.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain waiter at Menu 98, perhaps?”

Before Jisung could answer his phone lit up with a text from the aforementioned waiter. Jisung immediately picked up his phone and responded with a wide smile, that practically spillied all the ‘secrets’ of his night to his hyungs.

“Sorry hyung what was that?”

Changbin shook his head fondly at the innocent glow on the youngest’s face.

“Nothing, Sung just glad to see you happy.”

Jisung squinted his eyes happily at that and continued to type away. Chan couldn’t help but feel his heart strings tug at the happiness that Jisung emitted in the moment. He always found himself worried about their youngest member. Jisung’s smile had begun to become progressively rare throughout the years that they had been a group, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for pulling their youngest member into their life as a music group so young. There was also a part of him that was afraid of losing that smile once they debuted. It was their biggest goal by far, but Chan had seen what being in the public eye could do to souls as pure as Jisung.

If Jisung really was getting involved with and even potentially dating another boy, not everyone was as kind and understanding about one’s sexual orientation as he wished they were. A warning about it was on the tip of Chan’s tongue but he couldn’t speak up as soon as he saw the way Jisung’s entire face lit up at a new text notification.

“Thanks for the late night snack, Sungie.”

“Oh, Of course Channie-hyung! It's the most I could do for disappearing for such a long time.”

Jisung’s heart smile reached his eyes, and Chan couldn’t help but return it. He mentally promised to do anything to protect that trademarked heart as they debuted.

----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#stray kids fic #straykids au #stray kids #han jisung #Lee Minho #lee know #skz fic #skz au #minsung

23 notes · View notes

blakemetothemoon · 4 years

Text

Love in a Laundromat - 7/? - SaifahZon, M

Notes: Soooo with everything going on, my NaNo has kind of changed into me focusing on this fic and I'm super okay with it. Thank you for all the support on this!

Summary: Zon's favorite place is a laundromat. That is until a certain tall, handsome stranger steals his washer and seems hellbent on making Zon miserable.

Read here or on ao3! :)

Marley Coffee Bar is only a short, five minute walk away, but it feels like ages.

Awkward pauses linger, like now that they aren't in the laundromat playing music they don't know how to talk. Saifah seems like he has something he wants to tell Zon, but every time he speaks, it's something mundane that comes out. Comments on the humidity, or how classes are going. There's this noticeable space between them Zon swears wasn't there before the party. Zon is starting to wonder if he’s the only one thinking about those intense moments of touching and moving together and kissing at all. In fact, Saifah barely looks at Zon. His eyes don't linger on Zon's lips like he’s caught them doing more than once…

And that’s when it hits Zon like a brick wall what Saifah is trying to say: that night was a mistake.

Of course, Zon thinks. Of course Saifah regrets it. He’s Saifah, and Zon is Zon, and—

"Here it is!" Saifah says, yanking Zon out of the heavy thoughts starting to weigh him down.

Zon glances up at the shop beneath the white “Marley Coffee Bar” sign and crinkles his brow at the darkened building, chairs on tables and no staff bustling about inside. “Um, it looks closed."

Saifah holds the door open for Zon and gestures for him to take a right instead of a left into the other side of the entrance where the lighting is dim and soft, jazzy music plays from an overhead speaker. “It’s a bar, too. Mostly wine and beer, but they’ve got some coffee-flavored cocktails and small plates.”

The barista-bartender is all smiles as he approaches them, white towel thrown over his shoulder. ‘Ban’ is handwritten pretty in white on his nametag. Ban raises an eyebrow when he notices the guitar on Saifah’s back. “Saifah! You’re not scheduled to play tonight, are you?”

“No, I’m just here with a…,” Saifah pauses. Then, he smiles softly and brushes past, smoothing out the wrinkle of hesitation like it was never there. “With a friend from university. This is Zon.”

Still stuck on Saifah’s pause—why did Saifah pause? What was he going to say? What was he ashamed to say?— Zon’s bow and greeting comes out a little awkward. Then, he glances up at the giant menu. Written in fancy, gold script, it stretches from one side of the bar to the next. Coffee, a column of roast types, teas, a beer and wine list, signature cocktails, food. Zon’s head starts to spin as he takes it all in.

“Just a cup of coffee black," he finally says. "Whatever the darkest roast is.”

“And the usual for me,” Saifah tells Ban. Then, he turns to Zon. “I’m going to put my guitar on the stage out of the way. I’ll grab our drinks on the way back, you go grab one of the booths.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Zon grumbles out of principle, but wanders off to do what Saifah demanded, ignoring the amusement in both Saifah and Ban’s faces.

Only a few other people are in the bar: a couple conversing with each other at the bar, another at the booth closest to the stage, and a group of five girls at a table. Every single one watches Saifah as he walks to the stage, their gazes more than fleeting, innocent interest. Zon makes a face and rolls his eyes before dropping into the closest booth, tossing his backpack onto the seat next to him. While he waits for Saifah to grab the drinks, he finally takes in the coffee shop-bar hybrid.

Marley Coffee Bar is this bizarre mix of antique and modern, like a coffee shop version of those speakeasies he’s read about in old American novels. The chandelier lights are all different shapes and types, and the booths are made of red leather, while the wooden tables are rustic grey. There’s a mahogany curtain next to the line of booths to separate the bar from the coffee shop; it’s velvet and soft when he loses against the urge to touch it. The stage is the only part Zon recognizes, thanks to all those fan videos of Saifah. It’s small and intimate, while the grand black piano next to it adds another level of class he didn’t expect when Saifah invited him to a coffee shop.

Zon is finding the whole mix-match of it kind of...inspiring? His fingers twitch, craving to write. Songs, stories, a new world with Marley Coffee Bar at the center of characters' lives. And this is where Saifah plays? He’s part of creating this atmosphere, part of the reason people come here?

“Really amazing, isn’t it?” Saifah says as he finally slides into the booth across from Zon.

So are you, Zon thinks. He barely stops himself from saying it out loud.

Saifah’s now sans guitar and holding four drinks. He sets them down without spilling a drop. Zon’s black drip coffee is in a mug the size of his face. The marble is a faded blue. Saifah’s drink is in a tall white glass with, “est. 1929” in golden scrawl. It’s completely different from Zon’s, like there is no consistency beyond the cups having history that customers can converse over.

“What are those?” Zon asks, pointing to the extra drinks.

“Ban made them. On the house, since it’s your first time here.”

“It’s not yours though, so why do you get one?

“VIP,” Saifah says and winks.

Zon snorts. “You’re so cocky.”

It’s one hundred percent not a compliment, and he did a great job of keeping any sort of endearment out of his voice. But it doesn’t stop Saifah from looking annoyingly proud of himself. Zon reaches across the table to smack Saifah’s head, and the taller man grunts even though Zon had put barely any force behind it.

Saifah pushes both cocktails into the center in a peace offering. “This one is basically a cold brew with rum and orange, and this one is a white russian. And if you don’t want to drink that’s fine, too.”

There goes Saifah being all considerate and annoying. Except it’s not annoying, it’s stupidly attractive, and it makes Zon all frazzled and giddy.

“Which is your favorite?” he replies.

“The white russian."

“You have that one.” Zon grabs the cold brew with rum before Saifah can accommodate him again. His head is already a mess trying to read Saifah tonight, he doesn’t need another reason to fucking swoon. Plus the drink he grabbed is so good, he has to immediately take another sip.

“So…” Zon continues, setting his cup back down on the table, enjoying the coldness against his clammy hands. “This is where you play?”

Saifah nods. “Most Wednesdays and sometimes when they do open mic nights on Saturdays. They raise the curtain and keep both sides open for those.” He glances back over his shoulder to the stage, then turns back to Zon with a trademark smirk. “You know, there aren’t that many people here. Ban would probably have no problem if we played a song or two.”

The suggestion instantly makes Zon’s stomach plummet. “No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun—”

“I said no, Saifah.”

Saifah seems taken aback, and Zon flinches, realizing the harshness of his tone a moment too late.

“It’s just—”

“No, I get it,” Saifah interrupts, saving Zon from fumbling out an explanation. “You’ve never even sang in front of someone before until recently. At least, not knowingly—ow!”

Saifah rubs his head again because Zon had hit him considerably harder that time.

"Stop bringing that up!” Zon snaps. “And how can I perform in front of people I don't know when I've never even practiced? If it was just us alone in your room or something, it would be diff…”

He slams his mouth shut, but the words are already out there, lingering and heavy with all sorts of implications, and Saifah definitely heard him because he looks both awed and then devious at the same time.

“Oh?” Saifah says, the word tilting like he’s singing it. "You wanna be alone in my room with me?"

“Music!” Zon rushes out. “Just to make music!”

“There are a lot of different kinds of music we can make—Zon, wait!” Saifah laughs as he grabs Zon by the wrist to stop him from storming off. “I’m kidding!”

Saifah gently tugs Zon's wrist and pulls him down into the booth next to him. The touch is so light, but his fingers burn heat into Zon's skin, and he hopes Saifah can't feel the sudden racing of his pulse. Thankfully, Saifah lets him go. Not so thankfully, Saifah slides his arm over the back of the booth, and he's so freakishly long, his hand can dangle over the edge. Saifah also has no trouble pulling Zon’s drinks to this side of the table, and now it would be too awkward for him to switch seats again, but… if he ignores the logic part of his brain, he knows he doesn’t want to.

There’s a soft buzzing against Zon’s leg. He thinks it’s his phone but quickly realizes it’s Safaih’s. In Saifah’s pocket. Which is pressing against Zon’s thigh because they’re sitting that close to each other, and now that he’s aware of it, it’s all he can focus on. When Saifah shifts to pull out his phone, Zon jolts at the movement.

“You’re pretty popular,” he says to distract from it.

“Well, obviously,” Saifah replies, meeting Zon’s snark with an amused quirk of his eyebrow. “But this time it’s just Day.”

“Day? Tutor’s friend?”

“Hey, hey, that hurts. You know who Day is but had no clue who I was when we met?”

Zon feels his cheeks grow hot which is dumb because he has nothing to be embarrassed about, just because he didn’t know who Saifah was. Maybe Saifah is popular with his music and maybe he’s a good friend of Tutor’s and maybe he’s so tall Zon would have at least noticed him once across campus. Maybe, considering all those things, some embarrassment was justified. Not that Saifah needs to know that.

“With how many adoring fans you have, I highly doubt me not knowing who you are means much.”

Again, Saifah looks like he wants to bring something up but drops his gaze back to his phone. He doesn’t sound particularly casual when he says, “I posted a new video earlier. Day likes to screenshot some of the more… fanatic comments.”

Zon doesn’t need to see the screenshots to know what those are like; he’d read plenty of them when he was looking up Saifah that one night weeks ago. (And a few more times, but only because they were playing music together and he wanted to know more about Saifah’s style. Research. It’s important when it comes to being a writer.)

Saifah is still reading through Day’s messages, and Zon is feeling the slightest bit ignored so he asks, “Do you want my line?”

They’re still pressed together; Zon feels immediately when Saifah’s entire body goes rigid. He raises his head slowly, like a puppet on a string. “Do you… want to give me your line?”

With an annoyed huff, Zon grabs Saifah’s phone and quickly goes to the contacts. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

Saifah laughs when Zon hands the phone back. “ ‘Zon-Zon-Zon-Zon’ is your username?”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, then give it back, I’m deleting it!”

“Nope, nope!” Saifah hits the call button and wiggles his eyebrows when Zon’s phone rings. “Allow me to honor you with mine, too.”

After he digs his phone out of his pocket, Zon swipes his thumb, making a show of ignoring the call. Saifah’s affronted gasp makes it hard for Zon to keep a serious face, and he laughs. Apparently, regretting their make out session still doesn't stop Saifah from flirting with him. (This is flirting, right?)

“A giraffe?” Saifah says, incredulous, as he watches Zon set his contact name. “You’re using a giraffe emoji?”

“It’s the most accurate,” Zon replies with a smile, enjoying Saifah’s pout. Then, he sets his phone down and takes a long drink of his coffee, working up the courage for what he’s about to say next: “Okay.”

Despite the sudden backtrack in conversation, Saifah picks up what Zon is replying to. "Okay?"

The opening to back out is tempting, and Zon… he's scared but he wants to do this. "Let's do it. Write songs. At your place."

Zon doesn't expect silence. It stretches so long he finally has to look at Saifah to gauge the other's expression. His lips are tight and his small brown eyes are completely unaffected. "Okay. We can do that."

"Hey," Zon pouts, "why do you sound so unhappy now that I agreed?"

Saifah grabs Zon's arm and shakes it playfully. "My Zon, my Zon! I'm so sorry! Please come play in my room with me!"

Zon feels his entire face grow hot with a fierce blush, and he shakes Saifah's hand off. But before he can scold Saifah, the other unlocks his phone and opens YouTube.

“By the way, there’s a song I think would be fun to do together," Saifah says. "You know ‘Shallow’, right? I found this really pretty acoustic cover of it. Or we can do whatever you want. Maybe that Pardon Me song you wrote? I've been coming up with a bridge that I think works. I can teach you how to play guitar, too—” His excitement suddenly simmers when he meets Zon’s wide doe eyes. Like knowing he has Zon's rapt attention makes him nervous. He clears his throat and pushes a smirk. “You’ll have to ask me reallllly nice, though.”

Zon is about to remind Saifah he’s the one who brought it up. But Saifah’s enthusiasm is endearing and his closeness is a warmth Zon leans into without meaning to, and he can’t help but play along. “Oh, wonderful, Mr. Saifah. Please teach me how to play guitar with your paramount skills.”

The music video starts playing, but Saifah keeps the volume low so only they can hear. He hums and he sets his phone on the table. Then, like the coffee bar and Zon's answer have wiped away all that uncertainty he's been struggling with all night, he says, “I might need better convincing than that.”

For the first time that night, Zon catches Saifah looking at him like he did before The Party. In his eyes is that same heat he had when pressing Zon against that door before stealing his lips and his breath. A heat that holds words he isn’t saying but that Zon can read. The twisting confusion in Zon’s chest tightens while his entire being flares, burning hot and craving. He swallows against the lump in his throat and his mouth is dry as a desert. He chugs half his cocktail to try and moisten it, but his voice still cracks when he replies, "Guess I'll have to think of something."

Then, Zon presses in closer to Saifah's side, pretending he's more interested in the song than kissing Saifah until they're breathless.

#saifahzon #Saizon #Why R U #why r u the series #why r u?#Fic #blakemetothemoon

11 notes · View notes

waywardmasquerade · 4 years

Note

is there any reason you dont make a dragon dice bag with the regular lesbian flag? I have never seen that femme flag before

Unfortunately the answer to that is very long. Apologies if I repeat myself or overexplain, events around the world have me rather frazzled.

To my knowledge, there is no regular lesbian flag. There have been multiple proposed lesbian flags, but in my research I’ve never found one that has broad community support.

There’s the purple labrys flag from the 70s or 80s (I think?), which apparently has historical issues and isn’t widely recognised today.

There’s the lipstick flag, which has much more recent issues related to it’s creator (transphobia, biphobia, racism) as well as not resonating with the butch & non femme parts of the community.

There have been multiple edits to the lipstick flag, first the lipstick kiss was removed, though I don’t know who by or the intention behind it. Then it was simplified to include more orange and brown.

Then it was simplified again to the five bar orange/pink flag.

All these edits have been called different things by different people.

There have also been a LOT of other proposed flags, including a “sapphic” lesbian flag (based on one of Sappho’s poems), which is interesting in itself because historical Sappho was thought to be bisexual. If you go hunting you’ll find dozens of proposed designs.

At the time I was researching and designing the lesbian pride Dragon Bagon, the lipstick flag and sapphic flag were the ones that showed up most in my research. I did not feel comfortable using the lipstick flag, and the sapphic flag was not recognised by the folks in my beta group. So I settled for modifying the first or or second iteration of the modified lipstick flag (there was no way I could fit all those slightly different shades in) and because I knew it didn’t resonate with many of the butch lesbians I had feedback from, I called it the “femme” lesbian Dragon Bagon, because I did not feel comfortable making a decision and putting a label on the entire lesbian community when it clearly didn’t fit a lot of people in it. I have since been keeping an eye out for a possible butch flag or symbol, there was support for a plaid Dragon Bagon, but plaid microfleece has not become available despite my searches. I’m hoping that will eventually change.

As it is, I am gathering feedback regarding the 5 bar flag, and while some of it has definitely been positive, some has also been negative. I also don’t feel comfortable just making a unilateral decision on behalf of the lesbian community when it does not yet seem like there is yet community consensus on a flag, though the 5 bar flag definitely seems to be steadily gaining popularity. I’ll have one person tell me that it definitely IS the “community flag”, while another tells me they don’t identify with it at all.

There are also another couple of factors:

I realise that folks who don’t do the job I do will not necessarily realise the level of work involved in prototyping and putting a design into a level of production that makes it affordable. Suffice it to say, there is a lot. So I can’t take changing established designs lightly. The Pride Dragon Bagons are already underpriced for the work that is involved in them. That was a conscious choice I made because I wanted to give something to a community I value. Making the price they’re at even remotely doable for me means we need to produce pride dragon bagons in batches, not one by one. It also means that I have to think carefully before making more of the designs that aren’t like to sell as well. Making new pride designs is not a low cost enterprise, but I want them to be there to at least say to as many of the less represented members of the LGBTQIA2+ community as possible: “I see you”, even if they never buy a Dragon from me, seeing how the photos make people happy is a boost. So I’m balancing the need for representation with the budget as well.

How well a design sells (and therefore funds us making more) is a combination of factors, for a start, it’s a matter of how many people there are within a given section of the wider LGBTQIA2+ community, and then what segment of that group has the disposable income to afford a handmade Dragon Bagon, plus what segment of that group wants to spend that much on a handmade Dragon Bagon. All that comes into play before we get to how pretty the design is, how well it matches the flag, how well I can reach that specific group, etc. Then there’s if there are multiple flags that segments of those groups identify with (e.g. Genderqueer vs Non Binary), and there’s also the matter of folks identifying with multiple flags, which usually means there’s one they want a Dragon for one more than others, which adjusts the numbers as well. And as cold and calculating as it might feel to me sometimes, I do have to keep an eye on the numbers if I want to be able to keep operating (and as a result, producing pride dragons) at all.

The next thing to consider is the availability of fabrics and colour matching. As it is right now, I only have access to colours that would possibly be an acceptable match for two or three of the colours in the 5 bar flag in your avatar. That may change in the future, and I’m always looking for new colours. I also need to consider that while a colour is available now, it may not be in three months time, which means if I want a reasonable supply I need to buy a lot in one go, which for a small business running out of my lounge, is not insignificant. So I need to be sure I can use the fabric before I buy it. While I don’t expect to profit hugely from the pride dragons, I do need to cover my costs and make something of a living for myself, and my helper deserves to be paid a living wage for their time and effort as well.

The last thing is that, despite putting more time and research into the lesbian pride design than any of the others, it has been the one that has received the least support both in terms of sales, and in terms of actual engagement and feedback on the design when I have called for it in the past. It’s also the community (or at least, the community that folks being unpleasant presented themselves as being from) that has directed the most aggression towards me. Even when I have clearly labelled the Lesbian Pride design in the lineup, I have received less-than-pleasant comments about “forgetting” lesbians or demands to know “where is the lesbian one”. Yet when I have called for feedback in the past, there was far less engagement than with many other groups. So it feels like a rock and a hard place for me, it got so hurtful that I actually stopped researching potential new pride designs for quite some time. So when there’s been very little support in terms of feedback, engagement, and sales from this community, alongside some fairly unpleasant comments as well. I don’t know what else I can do, and it doesn’t help with inspiration and creativity. I realise that a few angry people who apparently don’t bother to read posts before lashing out do not represent the whole community, but it’s only been recently that there’s been an increase in useful feedback on this particular design as well.

Will I make a new lesbian pride dragon? Maybe. I can’t give a timeframe, I can’t say which flag it will follow, because I don’t know. I’m doing research as and when I can, and keeping an eye on a lot of different factors. That being said, IF I make a new one, I will be trying to prioritise rep for butch lesbians, since I have not been able to give them that so far.

All that being said, I am 100% willing to make custom custom Dragon Bagons for those who want them, and that can definitely include pride designs. They cost more, but I do try to keep the cost down as much as possible.

43 notes · View notes

boundtoyouphff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 16: Unwritten

A/N: Here is the next chapter! I hope you have enjoyed Chapter 14 and Chapter 15 that were posted yesterday! Please read those first before continuing to this one.

Oh, the magic of new beginnings.

The hope that fills you and inspires you that a fresh start is that key ingredient that you have been missing.

Opening the book to a new page, the start of an amazing adventure yet to come instills me with such joy and happiness looking into the unwritten future. It is time to start a new book in my life and close the chapter of the past. You cannot start a new book while remaining stuck in the last one. So I'm putting you away on the shelf because you are still a part of my past that has brought me to this moment. One I must not forget, but I cannot linger amongst the pages any longer.

But, when I looked one last time at the cover of the book I realized that I was not the author of this. That somehow this book of my life was not written by me, but by those who thought they knew me and those who tried to steer the plot into their own direction.

It is time to write my own book. But, this book is still unwritten. Filled with empty pages, but bounded in hope for what I will be writing in them.

It's time for me to write my own story, to be the author of my own life and the creator of my own voice.

It's time to show the world who really is Emilia Andelle.

--------------------------------

Emilia took in a deep sigh as Ella continued to style her hair for her engagements with Green Peace this afternoon. The princess was handed a briefing by her new private secretary Evie Sharpe. Emilia released a genuine smile seeing how engaged and enthusiastic Evie was about today. She was a stark difference from her previous private secretary, Mia Deacon.

From the moment she had met Evie, Emilia eagerly wanted her to be spear heading her newly developed team. Even her father was impressed by the young woman's resume and further encouraged Emilia that she would be a great fit. Throughout the interviews of Emilia's new staff, her father Frederick was present for all of them as per the Queen's request. But, he made sure to take a step back and only provide advice when Emilia asked his opinion only after she had shared her own thoughts on the candidates. He wanted this team to be purely Emilia's choice and to find people who could not only share her vision, but help her successfully create it. The Crown Prince was proud of his youngest daughter for showing the initiative to create this remarkable team, one of her own making. The ideas she presented to him were well thought out like she had been visioning this idea for a while and now she was finally making that vision come to light.

"The director, Mr. Langford, of Green Peace will greet you when you arrive and introduce you to key staff members. Then we will proceed inside and have a tour of some of the sanctuaries before opening the new wing dedicated to helping the endangered, but also extremely adorable if I may add, Fennec Foxes." Evie was beaming as she finally took a breath and sat down across from Emilia. "They told me yesterday that they have a new litter of baby foxes that are dying to meet a princess and need to be named."

Emilia tossed her head back in laughter. "Well I certainly can do that. Thank you Evie for this."

"Speaking of endangered animals..." Ella piped up into the conversation. "I have this piece of jewelry that you wanted me to order for today." Emilia's stylist held up a pair of earrings that were very delicately designed butterflies with a custom emerald green gem stone.

"Wow! These are perfect!" Emilia carefully cradled them into her hand. The princess was able to sit down with Ella and Evie to go through her personal style for attending engagements. Emilia wished to add even more of an impact through the clothes and accessories that she chose to wear to shine a light on young sand upcoming designers, local designers during her tours and showcase accessories that profits go towards a charity project or change initiative. These butterfly earrings were created by a Illyrian college student who was using the proceeds from purchases to fund her non-profit conservation project of protecting at risk butterflies and birds. It was Emilia's hope that she could shine a light on this piece and use her influence to aid this young college student that shared her passion for conservation. It was little things like this that Emilia would use to create her own identity. To show how far her reach could go beyond engagements and simply making an appearance.

Emilia suddenly became quiet as she dug out a bracelet that was sent to her by Harry. She noticed it on one of their recent video chats and asked him about it. It was a piece that represented Harry's rhino conservation project in Africa. Emilia was hesitant to ask the prince if she could have one and wear for today's engagement. Harry's smile lit up at her question and was happy to send her one. But, he did feel the need to remind her that he is known for wearing it all the time and that the press could link them together if she were to wear it.

"Ooooh, I love that bracelet. It would work so well with your outfit today Emilia! Those blues would tie in perfectly." Ella smiled happily before she got a glimpse of Emilia's uncertain expression that had formed on her lips.

"I know, I just don't know if I should wear it." The princess released a deep sigh. She stood up quickly and grabbed her phone. "I will be right back. I need to call someone." Emilia didn't feel right wearing it today without Harry's blessing for the simple fact that they could be linked, but a piece inside Emilia wanted Harry along for the start of her new journey today and by wearing the bracelet, he could be.

Evie and Ella both watched the princess find a private area to make a call. Evie slowly turned her head to look up at Ella who was displaying a happy grin as if she knew exactly who Emilia was calling. "Should I know anything Ella?" Evie stood up and faced her with an inquisitive look.

Ella shook her head. "No. Whatever do you mean?" Ella perfectly played it off and got back to her work.

"Hello?" Harry's deep voice resonated on the line immediately bringing a smile to her lips.

The princess closed her eyes and sighed. Just the sound of his voice was enough for Emilia to miss him. "Hey." She quietly responded.

"You ok?" Harry had picked up on her quiet tone. He knew that today was a big day for Emilia and her new team. He had stayed up quite late talking to his girlfriend and calming her nerves.

"Yeah I am alright. Getting ready for my engagement." She told Harry while finding a chair to make herself comfortable in.

"I am honestly so nervous. It needs to go perfectly well." The stress in Emilia's voice was evident. It was clear the amount of pressure Emilia was facing today was insurmountable. She had to prove to her grandmother what she was capable of achieving on her own merit.

"Babe..." Harry breathed out. "You are going to kill it. Just don't kill any of the endangered animals and you will be fine!"

Emilia groaned loudly at his attempt to make her laugh. "Henry..."

"Oh come on love. That was pretty funny." Harry continued to snicker on the other line being unable to hold in his laughter.

The princess could not hold in her laughter, hearing her boyfriend's infectious giggle ring out. She dissolved into a fit of giggles feeling the anxiety about her day float away. Emilia sighed deeply, silently thanking Harry for that moment of relief.

"Thank you for making me laugh." Emilia suddenly became quiet, thinking about the reason why she had originally wanted to talk to Harry. She held the bracelet he had given her in her hand, analyzing it carefully. "There was something I wanted to ask you..." she trailed off.

"What's that?" Harry encouraged her.

"You know how you sent me your Rhino bracelet that you always wear?" Emilia led on.

"Yeah, you got it?" His soft voice spoke.

"I did. But, I wanted to ask you if it would be ok if I wore it on my engagement today." The dark haired princess breathed out. "Before you say anything, I want to explain." Emilia felt the need to, as the bracelet would surely link Harry to her if the media picked up on it. "I know that the press could find out that it is something you may have given me, but it has been reported that we are merely royal friends. I want - " Emilia was hesitating to tell Harry what was growing in her mind.

"Just tell me, Emilia."

"Today is a fresh start for me. My first engagement with my new team who I chose and this is something that I have wanted for so long. A new beginning to do the things that I want to do in the way I want to do them. You were a big factor in encouraging me to do this Henry. I want you to be a part of this new start today and I know you cannot be here. So I thought I could wear the bracelet today... so I know that you are still with me in another way. You are a part of this new journey for me." Emilia took in a shaky breath after finishing her rant while she waited for her boyfriend's reply.

"Emilia, you did not have to ask me permission to wear it." Harry's deep voice sounded over the phone. "I want you to wear it today and remember that I always have your back, no matter what. I don't care if they link it to me." The prince spoke freely. "You came here for the Invictus Games and I just did a whole tour with you in Illyria."

"I just wanted to check with you first." Emilia smiled happily at her boyfriend's response. "Thank you for supporting me babe and believing in me."

"Now, go out there and kick some ass. Call me when it's all done and let me know how it goes."

The smile plastered on Emilia's lips was hard to miss. "I will." Emilia sighed heavily. "God I can't wait to see you..."

"Don't remind me that I have to wait a few extra days because someone was leaving later than planned and I have to sit through two days of engagements knowing that you are in the same damn city as me!" Harry started to moan.

"It's not my fault!" Emilia giggled. "I will try my best to distract you anyhow."

"You better. Have a safe flight tomorrow."

"Bye baby."

Emilia hung up the phone and saw the press secretary Olivia Holmes and her new head of security Hugo Blackburn walk into her apartment.

Olivia searched the room for the princess and found her off to the side. She smiled warmly and started to approach Emilia. "Are you ready to go, your highness?"

Olivia Holmes was hired as Emilia's new press secretary, a liaison between the palace communications team and the Illyrian media. She came highly recommended by one of her closest friends, Scarlet, who was a news anchor. Scarlet was even afraid to cross Olivia and with her impressive resume of working for the British Illyrian Ambassador and for the famous female empowering Illyrian Senator Louisa Banks. Olivia was a force to be reckoned with, but she was a hard sell initially until Emilia shared her vision of what she wished to achieve as she found out that she was not planning on being the same cookie cutter royals as the rest of her family.

"For the last time Olivia, please just call me Emilia." The princess smiled warmly then released a deep sigh. "I would be lying if I said that I was not nervous about today..." Emilia glanced down briefly and put on Harry's bracelet.

"I would rather you be nervous right now than over confident." Olivia smirked. "Now, I will go over the journalist who will be asking you a few questions. She has been told not to drift away from these set few or she knows the price she will pay if she does." Emilia's press secretary giggled, lightening up the mood.

Emilia was half listening to Olivia when she saw Hugo approach her RPO Tristan who was standing beside the newly hired RPO, Kane McKinney. Her eyes locked in Tristan's gaze as a proud smile grew on his lips making the princess beam in return.

The princess had endured a long internal debate while she thought of giving Tristan the position of her head of security instead of Hugo Blackburn. It was not because he did not deserve it, more so the fact that Emilia trusted him more than anyway on her team and she wanted him right beside her. She sat Tristan down and told him why he was not getting the position while she was in near tears, but Tristan understood her reasons and told the young princess that he would rather be out protecting her than having the worries of being head of her security.

Kane McKinney had actually been recommended to Emilia from Prince Harry. Kane and Harry served together in the British Forces and went through basic training together. He had recently lost his Illyrian wife to a long battle of cancer, but was not ready to return to the life of the military and had chosen to stay in Illyria after his wife's passing. Harry was able to convince him that he could use his skills as a protection officer and when Emilia told Harry of her plans to form a whole new team, Kane was the first to come to his mind. Tristan had been showing Kane the ropes of being a royal protection officer even though he had completed a rigorous training course prior to his employment.

Hugo was lecturing them when Emilia approached her security team with a kind welcoming smile.

"Hello ma'am." Kane bowed his head. 'Ohh, I mean your highness." He stumbled out of his mouth clearly putting his nerves on display. Tristan rolled his eyes with a light shake of his head.

"Good morning Kane." She giggled at his expense. "Just take a deep breath and remember to watch Tristan. Luke is with us for a few more weeks to help out until you find your feet" Emilia rubbed Kane's shoulder in a warm comforting manner. "Also, like I have said please address me as Emilia. Just don't call me by Tristan's nickname for me and I won't have to fire you." She made light of the situation and got a quick laugh from Kane.

Hugo remained standing there in silence rather stoic and serious. Mr. Blackburn was the only one on Emilia's new team that she had a few doubts about. Emilia's father Fredrick did like what he saw on paper, but the man was a bit of a drill sergeant. She wanted to give the position to Luke Balvondio, one of her present RPOs but his wife was having a child in a few weeks and planned to take some leave to which Emilia was happy to grant. Luke knew the ins and outs of the security side and would have been the perfect fit. She secretly hoped to make the change once Luke was ready to return to his duties.

"Are you ready to leave ma'am?" Hugo's deep voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Yes, let's arrive on time today." Emilia took in a deep shaky breath and glanced around the room at her new team. A sense of excitement filled her making her lips spread into a beaming grin. She had done it and now she was about to show the world and her grandmother, The Queen, who this new Emilia was.

—————————

Tristan was quietly speaking to Kane, telling him what was about to happen as Emilia's convoy pulled up to the entrance of Green Peace Conservation.

Emilia sat quietly across from them, peering out the window to see the mass crowd lined along the metal barriers that had been waiting just to catch a glimpse of the princess. Her eyes wavered away from the crowd to see the media with cameras at the ready.

Clearly someone had felt her nerves exude from her body as she felt a soft touch on the arm. "Emilia, just remember to be yourself and that is enough." Evie's soft comforting whisper immediately dissipated all of her fears.

The princess turned her head slowly to lock in Evie's kind gaze. "Thank you Evie."

The car rolled to a stop in front of the entrance making the princess shift her gaze onto Tristan. "Ready Emilia?" His blue eyes held her gaze steady.

Emilia gave a light nod of the head signalling that she was indeed ready. Tristan jumped out of one side of the car, while Kane followed suit through the other side. Within a matter of seconds Emilia's door was opened by Tristan as a wave of screams greeted the princess.

She stepped out elegantly with a bright smile and turned back to wave to the crowd. It was the plan to do a walk about after the engagement, but Emilia felt it was best to do one now as well. These people had been waiting for her for hours and it only felt right to do so. Besides, part of her vision was to connect with the people and show the people that Emilia was merely one of them.

"Tristan?" Emilia only had to say his name to let him know what she was wanting to do. Tristan replied with a simple nod and spoke into his coms to alert the security team in the change of plans.

The princess stepped away from the entrance alerting the crowd that she was about to do a walk to greet them and they erupted in the loudest cheer that brought an enormous grin to Emilia's lips. Her light blue dress with white flowers that hung well off of her body flowed in the wind with each passing step. She tucked behind a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear while glancing quickly at the ground.

Emilia's Dress

Emilia's Hair and Makeup

She made it to the first awaiting group and took her time greeting the happy smiling crowd who were so eager to meet the princess. Emilia engaged in a conversation with a nursery school group who had come out to see the exhibition of the fennec foxes as well. They all had drawn pictures of their favourite animals for Emilia, giving them to her as a present.

"I might have to buy a new castle to put all of these pictures up!" Emilia joked and the crowd roared in laughter. "Thank you! I will see you inside." The princess was about to step away when a little girl escaped through the barrier and came running at her with her arms stretched open for a hug.

The little girl was so ecstatic that she had escaped through the confines of the barriers, but she was running so hard that she tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the concrete.

Emilia hastily went to her and knelt down to tend to the little girl who was now wailing. The blonde curly haired child clutched her knee and whimpered. Emilia brushed away the dirt and comforted the young child until the police officers let her teacher through. "It's alright sweetheart. Let's get your knee cleaned up so you can feel better."

The princess stood the young girl up and wiped away her tear stained cheeks and spoke to her quietly until she calmed down. Emilia then pulled the little one into the tight hug that she had come to receive and the whole crowd awed at the kind gesture. The child's teacher kept on apologizing, but Emilia simply brushed it off as no big deal and continued down the way to greet other members of the crowd.

She was stopped by a young woman seeming to be similar in age to the princess. The brave woman asked if she could spend a few minutes interviewing her for one of her college papers for her Journalism degree. Emilia knew she did not have time to stand there for an interview at that moment, but she told the college student to give her details to Evie and she would be happy to arrange another time to be interviewed.

Emilia felt Evie lean in and whisper in her ear that it was time for them to go for their engagement. The princess shook a few more hands and then stepped away from the crowd who was calling her back. "I will come around again after!" She hollered back and walked purposely towards a patiently waiting Mr. Langford, the director of Green Peace.

Mr. Langford politely greeted the princess in a bowed head and a firm shake of the hand. "Welcome back, your royal highness. It's a pleasure to have you visit us again."

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting, Peter. I appreciate the invite again to come and see all the work you and your amazing team are doing. Plus, I hear the Fennec Foxes are adorable and quite playful." Emilia was beaming. She felt relaxed, confident and excited to get this engagement underway.

"Emilia! Over here!"

"Give us a smile will you?"

The press behind the barriers started to holler at Emilia all eager to capture that one headliner image for the papers tomorrow. The princess put on a brave face and turned to smile at the media for only a brief second. Giving them limited time to photograph her which many photographers would surely be complaining about in the upcoming days. Olivia had briefed the media team and royal photographers that there would now be a few select members of the photographers actually allowed in the events and engagements coming forward. This change was quite the sore spot for the vulturous press pack that loved to capture every little moment of Emilia's engagements and fished for anything to use against her in the papers the next day. This idea was given to Emilia by Harry himself as he explained how the British royals conducted engagements with the press.

Olivia was hesitant to limit the amount of access to Emilia during engagements but found a way to work around this by allowing one or two photographers selected by Olivia to capture photographs of Emilia during her engagements. But, the catch was they had to share their content with any willing member of the media upon a request. The photographers had to sign an agreement before hand to ensure this would happen.

Emilia knew that there would be immediate backlash with this decision, but she wanted the engagements to be a bit more intimate. To be able to truly focus on the reason why she was there and not have a hungry pack of wolves on her back. By limiting their access to Emilia showed that she was not going to play their games anymore and that she held the power hand.

The princess continued on her way into Green Peace being introduced to some familiar faces and new staff before her official tour began. She sat in some of the teaching sessions that were being taught to local school children.

Olivia had pulled Emilia out of one of the sessions to conduct a short interview with Kelly-Anne Arbour, an Illyrian journalist. This was the part of the engagement that Emilia had tried to convince Olivia to forgo and not conduct one. She had never really been keen to do interviews as her parents had taught her from a young age to keep a healthy distance between the royal family and the media.

Emilia sat down across from Kelly-Anne and put on a smiling face, hiding the fact that she did not want to be a part of this. An innate gut feeling had settled in the princess's stomach that convinced her mind that something was not right about this situation. But, Olivia had vetted the journalist and she was to adhere to a strict line of questioning. She had to put her trust in Olivia.

"It's such a pleasure to sit here with you today, your royal highness, and be able to speak with you." The journalist welcomed here kindly.

The princess smiled with a gentle nod of reply. "Thank you for having me."

"Now, I know you are quite the busy woman here today out at Green Peace. But, I must steal a few of your minutes to ask you some questions." Kelly-Anne started out. "Now, as we have all been briefed, you have formed a new palace team as of late and today is your first engagement back with them. May I ask why you thought this change was needed? Why The Queen's previous choice of Mrs. Deacon was fired?"

Emilia took in a deep breath. None of these questions were what the journalist was supposed to ask Emilia.The princess turned her head and briefly locked eyes with a furious looking Olivia. "I appreciate your question, Kelly. But, the matter is rather simple that was outlined in the briefing you received." The princess informed her.

"Yes, but if you wish to comment about Mia Deacon?" The interviewer pushed further.

The princess tilted her head at the bravery she boasted. "I do not comment on past employees' work just like any other employer. Now shall we move on because you now only have two minutes left. As you said, I am quite the busy woman this afternoon." Emilia's sass came forth rather strong as Olivia got a glimpse of it first hand.

"Yes, let's talk about a few of your jewelry pieces." Emilia braced herself for what was about to be asked. "I noticed that one of your bracelets today is also famously worn by another royal, Prince Harry, who had recently visited Illyria on tour. Was this given to you by the prince himself? What sort of relationship would you say the prince and you have as it seems you two have been spending a lot of time together lately?"

Emilia was prepared for this and had the perfect reply. The princess glanced down at the bracelet and played with it a little before answering. "I am glad you noticed it. It was given to me by Prince Harry when he was in Illyria in an official capacity and I decided to wear it today to showcase how conservation is so important right now in the world. We are seeing animals getting added to the endangered list on a daily basis while their numbers are continuing to dwindle. It's important for everyone to play their part in protecting these magnificent creatures and give them that fighting chance at survival. As the reach me and Prince Harry have and the global platform that we are given, we have the responsibility to bring these issues into the light and broadcast the efforts of so many people that are trying to make change in the conservation world right now."

The journalist attempted to ask another question when Olivia stepped in and pulled Emilia out of the interview. "Thanks for your time Kelly-Anne, but her royal highness must continue to adhere to her tight schedule this afternoon."

Olivia fell into step beside Emilia and quietly scolded her. "Emilia... we need to talk about what you just confirmed about the British Prince Harry. This should have been run past me first."

"Not here Olivia. Clearly she was not even supposed to ask that question, this is why we don't do interviews." Emilia was furious at the journalist. "Scold her for not staying with the pre-planned questions, not me." The princess walked off being unhappy already with Olivia.

The princess stepped into the enclosure with a few members of the crowd watching her as she was guided through the endangered Fennec fox enclosure. Emilia was eager to learn more about these animals and how Green Peace was aiding them. She nearly gushed when asked if she wanted to meet and name a new litter of foxes, simply replying with a beaming smile and excited squeal to which the crowd found adorable.

She sat down on a nearby rock as a member of staff pulled out a couple of freshly born foxes who were fast asleep. Emilia had a few in her lap all snuggled together while she gently petted them. The mother then came out and rubbed up against Emilia.

"Is it ok for us to be handling them? They seem rather used to humans and the mom isn't as protective as I thought she would be." The princess questioned with slight concern. These were supposed to be wild animals after all.

"Excellent question. We are the only things that they know. Most of the foxes here will stay in a sanctuary like this until we are able to build a place more relatable to the wild and re-train them to be self sufficient." The handler informed her. "Now, we need to name them and thought it was best if our patron helped us with this batch!"

"I'd love to!" Emilia looked down adoringly at the little sleeping foxes then back up towards the crowd. An idea clicked in her mind.

"Would anyone like to help me name these little guys?!" Emilia hollered out and a few school aged children jumped at the chance to help the princess come up with names.

Emilia sat down into the backseat and released a heavy sigh. She closed her eyes and felt the door slam shut and the car pull away.

"Thank god that is over!" The princess chuckled lightly as. A wave of relief coursed through her. "Well done everyone!" Emilia glanced around at her team and thanked them for their hard work in such a successful visit.

—————

Later that evening, Emilia had called in Olivia and Evie into her apartment. She was dressed casually while finishing up packing for her trip to London for her training and Olympic trials for quite a few weeks.

Evie knocked lightly while she stood at the opened door to Emilia's private bedroom door with Olivia in behind her. "Good evening, Emilia. You wished to see us."

"Yes! Come on in!" Emilia waved them through as she placed a few more items into her suitcase. "Please sit down and make yourself comfy wherever."

The princess had picked up on Olivia's quiet demeanour when they arrived back at the palace. Emilia knew that she had to inform Evie and Olivia about her relationship with Prince Harry. But, she only wanted people to know who absolutely were required to.

Emilia sat across from them and smiled warmly. "I wanted to thank you for all of your hard work for today. You guys made everything run so smoothly and I think it was an amazing start for what's to come. So again, thank you!"

Evie was all smiles and said it was all around a team effort. Olivia was simply pleased with the results of the engagement today.

"I also called you here this evening because I wish to disclose a private matter to you that I only want your ears to know." Emilia lowered her gaze and found herself playing with the rhino bracelet on her wrist half indicating what she was about to tell them. "I am very cautious about my private life and do not wish to have many people in the know about my relationships, but I do understand that certain members of my staff need to be aware...." The princess trailed off and lifted her head to lock in Evie and Olivia's gaze while they patiently waited for her to continue.

"Prince Harry and I are in a relationship and have been since he ended his tour of Illyria last month. No one in my family is aware of this except for a few key people and it must remain this way until I deem it so. I realize that you need two need to be aware of this as key members of my staff. If any personal matters need to be addressed in this case then they must be done so in private and only with you two present." Emilia confessed solemnly. She did not want more people to find out about Harry and hers relationship at this time.

"Emilia, thank you for informing us." Olivia smiled warmly seeing how difficult it was for Emilia to openly trust them with this information, but it was vital that they were aware. "Will you be seeing him in London?" Olivia offered a kind hopeful smile.

Emilia lifted her head with a beaming smile graced on her lips. "Yes... it's been a long time since I have."

"I am sure that you miss him. I think you two are a perfect match, Emilia." Evie was gushing about this revelation. "We promise that this information is for our ears only." Evie took her leave.

"I am sorry about earlier, Emilia." Olivia began to apologize. "But, I need to know these sorts of things or else I would have advised you not to wear the bracelet today."

Emilia stood up. "No no. I need to apologize. I know you needed to know and that is why I am telling you now." She sighed deeply. "I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner about him, but I just wanted Harry to be a part of my day today. I do realize that may have been a mistake in how I achieved that. I don't always get it right Olivia, but I learn from my mistakes."

"No need to explain, Emilia. Have a safe trip tomorrow. We will be in touch."

--------

Emilia had finally landed into London after what appeared to be a long flight, but was only a few short hours. She was whisked away into an awaiting convoy with Tristan climbing into the backseat with her while Kane took control of driving the car.

The princess felt a sense of relief wash through her as she had made it to what would be her new home for the next month for her Olympic Training. She was still on a high after her successful first engagement yesterday with her new palace team and even received an adoring message from her father who watched the full coverage of it.

"Feels a bit like deja vu." Tristan commented as the memory of their last time in London came to the forefront of his mind. "Except this time we actually have a proper security team for you and I know I won't lose my job when we go back to Illyria or get my ass chewed off by the queen." He tossed his head back in laughter at Emilia's expense.

"Tristan... I can still fire you." Emilia glanced up and smiled warmly into his blue eyes.

"You could never get rid of me princess." He cocked a crooked smirk. "I think we have already established this on the fact you never could really lose me unlike my predecessors."

"You are right." Emilia shook her head. "Then I would have to stare at poor Luke all the time."

"Ya, I heard that Emilia." Luke hollered from the front.

It had been nearly an hour when Emilia looked outside the window wondering why they had not even reached the outer city limits of London yet. "Tristan, why aren't we in London?" The curious princess questioned as she looked further out deciphering that they were still indeed in the English countryside, but the setting of the sun made it quite difficult to make out where they actually were in combination with the dark tinted windows.

"We had to take a detour to avoid an accident, Emilia. Shouldn't be too much longer until we reach the city." Tristan avoided eye contact with the princess making Emilia inwardly question his response.

A few minutes later, Emilia felt the vehicle turn down a country side road hearing the gravel crunching beneath the tires. The princess glanced outside quickly to find that they were still in the middle of the English countryside, but could barely make out their surroundings through the dark tinted glass. She locked eyes with Tristan and raised her eyebrow up in suspicion as her gut held a feeling that something was indeed up.

"Tristan... you have one chance to tell me where we are or where we are going." Emilia's tone was serious, but her protection officer simply shrugged in response.

"Like I said, we took a detour and should be arriving soon." His answer was vague and nonchalant.

Not even a moment later the car rolled to a complete stop and Tristan motioned to undo his seatbelt. "Guess we are here." He finally looked at Emilia with a glint in his eyes.

"Stop!" Emilia stopped him from getting out of the car. "Where's here?!" The princess was beyond confused and wondering why Tristan was acting so strange.

"You will find out soon enough." Tristan got out of the car and rounded the vehicle to open Emilia's door.

Emilia slowly climbed out, looking at a happily smiling Tristan who closed the door behind her. The princess glanced around at the exquisite countryside manor that greeted her amongst the dimly lit sky.

"We took a detour to the countryside, Emilia. To surprise you." Tristan quietly spoke.

"Surprise me?" Emilia looked away from the manor for one second to glance at Tristan. But, when she turned her head back to the manor she saw that someone had come walking out the front door towards her.

She gasped loudly and covered her mouth with both hands at the surprise walking towards her. Emilia could not believe what rather who was before her eyes.

It was Harry casually walking towards the princess with a beaming smile.

"Harry." Emilia whispered his name as if she had to speak it to believe that she was actually seeing her boyfriend. Her heart tugged in her chest at the mere sight of him as her eyes welled up.

The princess was frozen in shock, unable to move her feet forward for a few seconds. The prince had stopped walking towards her and placed his hands casually in his jean pockets. The beaming smile that was evident on his lips, present for everyone there to see, caused her feet to finally run towards him. It had been a month since she had last seen Harry and Emilia did not want to waste one more second not being in his arms.

She took off running towards the prince. "Harry!" Emilia called his name louder being unable to hold in her excitement from seeing him.

He started to laugh at her shock while opening his arms to welcome her. Harry felt Emilia's body come crashing into him making him take a few steps back to try and steady himself from the impact. Her arms wrapped around him tightly while she buried her head into his chest and squeezed him tight.

"Hi love." He cradled the crown of her head gently and closed his eyes, relishing in the fact that Emilia was once again in his arms. The couple stood there for a few quiet moments embraced tightly with one another before Emilia broke apart and wrapped her arms around Harry's waist while peaking up at him. "I hope you didn't mind the detour." Harry chuckled while he stared into the depths of her icy blues eyes that the prince so terribly had missed.

"You are here..." Emilia slowly shook her head as the shock continued to linger in her body at the surprise of it all.

Harry's blue eyes softened while he angled his head down at his girlfriend with an adoring smile. He nodded his head lightly. "I'm here Emilia." His hand reached out and cupped her cheek tenderly before gently stroking it. He watched her eyes close and squint shut before opening them again as if she was trying to convince herself that this was not a dream.

"I have missed you so so much." Emilia became emotional and stood up on her tippy toes to snake her arm Harry's neck to pull him down towards her lips.

Harry controlled his urge and stopped a few inches away from her lips. He could feel her hot breath float across his lips as if they were calling to him. Emilia nudged her nose against Harry's, but the smile that formed on her delicious lips was the one that he had longed to see the one he often dreamt about. It was her natural happy smile that very little people were given unguarded access to.

"I have missed that smile." His deep voice weakened Emilia's knees as her other arm grasped his forearm to steady herself.

She could not wait a second longer as she crashed her lips into Harry's, connecting them with a passionate kiss that lingered. Harry immediately cupped both of her cheeks to hold her still while he continued to taste her delicate lips. The world around them ceased to exist as they found themselves locked into their own embrace while time stood still. The universe allowing them to share this moment of reuniting together.

Emilia was feeling the cloudy haze effect that her breathlessness had caused her. Her lips gently fell off of Harry's as she inhaled and breathed in his signature scent that brought a sense of comfort within her. She moaned softly causing Harry to suddenly capture her lips once again, locking them back into the passion fuelled kiss.

The princess gave up all control and succumbed to Harry's touch, loving the way he kissed her hard with such desire. Emilia felt his tongue seeking further permission to lock with her own to which she freely gave, allowing Harry to deepen their kiss further. His hand trailed down her cheek to the side of her neck feeling her heartbeat pounding through her soft skin.

Harry broke apart from their kiss and opened his eyes to find Emilia staring up at him with lust filled blue orbs greeting him. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, resting it while they both attempted to regain their breath. Emilia's chest was rising and falling hard as the prince heard her jagged breath.

"I hope it was ok to surprise you like this." Harry was the first to break their comfortable silence. "I asked Tristan to keep it from you. I just couldn't wait a few more days to see you." Emilia's heartstrings tugged at his confession.

"It is the best surprise anyone has given me." Emilia giggled happily. "But, where are we?" The princess broke apart from their embrace to quickly look around.

"Highgrove House." Harry's hand dropped from her hip and blindly found her hand to hold. He turned around and gave her hand a light tug to follow him. "It's my fathers estate, but I used to spend my weekends here after school. It's quite secluded so I thought it would be best for us to spend the weekend here before you start your training."

Emilia lightly stepped beside Harry as she leaned into, grasping his forearm with her free hand. "Wait... what about your engagements?" She snapped her head up to find Harry smirking mischievously.

"They were never booked, Emilia." Harry chuckled lightly. "I lied to you so you would not suspect a thing, I'm sorry."

Emilia shook her head. "Just don't lie to me again, unless it is a surprise like this." The princess stood up on her tippy toes and placed a soft kiss to Harry's cheek.

"Come on, let me show you around." Harry squeezed her hand tightly. "I cannot wait to have 3 full days to have you all to myself."

"Hmm, whatever shall we do Henry?" Emilia could not hide her excitement even if she wanted to.

Quite frankly, she did not really care as long as if she was with Harry.

#prince harry #princeharryff #phff #prince harry fanfic #fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #chapters #chapter16 #harryandemilia #boundtoyouphff

17 notes · View notes

927roses-and-stuff · 5 years

Text

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter One: Strings of Fate

Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5 for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it!

It’s only been a few hours since I posted the prologue, and I’ve already received such wonderful feedback! Thank you to anyone who took the time to read and/or like/reblog/comment/gave kudos to this!

I know it seems very Mlbverse-centric right now, but I have to set up some of the conflicts somehow, amirite? Trust me, you’ll only have to deal with Paris for like one more chapter.

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham

P.S. I refuse to believe that the ladybug-themed egg is the actual form of the Miracle Box. Nope, no way.

Tag list (if anyone wants that to be a thing):

@northernbluetongue

First Next Fanfic

Chapter One: Strings of Fate

Dear Diary,

Everything’s been so different without Master Fu. I’ve heard from Marianne that he’s healthy and doing well. I’m happy that he gets to be free from the Miraculous and living happily with the love of his life, but would it be selfish to wish that he were still around to guide me? It’s been a total disaster since I’ve become the new Guardian. Chloé’s anger at Ladybug makes it impossible to go a day without an akuma; much less since Lila Rossi decides to provoke her at every turn.

Honestly, what is wrong with that girl? She’s even more irritating than Chloé, if you ever thought that was possible.

But, diary, I’ve noticed that Hawkmoth’s become more strategic with his akumas. I think handing out the other Miraculous was a mistake. I’m sure it’s because Hawkmoth now knows the identity of the others that he’s been targeting our class almost exclusively.

This is why I’ve always said that secret identities were important. Now that they’ve all been discovered, I doubt I can entrust them without harming them and their loved ones.

I wish I could write more and reflect on my emotions like Master Fu told me to, but I hear an akuma calling my name.

Bisoux,

Marinette

________________________________________________________________

“So, chaton, who are we fighting this time?” Ladybug asked as she landed outside of the Louvre.

“So glad to be here in your presence. Ladybug, here comes the lovely Princess Fragrance!” He quipped as he dodged a zombified civilian rushing at him.

“Rhyming, Chat Noir?” Ladybug laughed as she jumped up, making two of the zombies crash into one another. “Are you sure you haven’t been caught in Princess Fragrance’s traps?”

Chat laughed and leapt to her side, using his baton to bat away at the incoming civilians. “Maybe just a whiff.”

She scanned around quickly, looking for green skin, pink hair, or her gothic black dress. When she found nothing, she grabbed Chat Noir by the waist, and projected her yoyo on one of the Louvre’s chimneys.

“Well, wake up and smell the roses, chaton. We better go find her Royal Highness!” Ladybug said as she grabbed onto Chat’s waist and swung away from the incoming hoard of civilians. She watched as they toppled over each other, desperately grabbing at the sky.

Chat winced at the sight also. “Me-ouch! Seems like their loyalty’s deadly.”

They landed on the roof and Ladybug straightened, letting go of Chat. She sighed.

“Let’s go before it turns into a bloodbath.”

Chat nodded. “Princess Fragrance was headed to the Pont des Arts last I saw her.”

“Do you know why she got akumatized this time?”

“Not really. Maybe it had something to do with the Prince again.”

Ladybug sighed. Poor Rose and her fragile heart. “I guess. Well, hopefully she doesn’t break anymore hearts.”

When they arrived, Princess Fragrance was seated upon the shoulders of Luka and Anarka Couffaine. Behind her was an army of their classmates, standing in silence and waiting for their orders. At her feet was Juleka, looking up at her and pleading. They managed to catch the end of Princess Fragrance’s declaration before Chat tackled Juleka and rolled away just as perfume was sprayed.

Princess Fragrance screeched. “You will not get away from me, my Princess! Minions, after the mangy cat!”

Ladybug’s eyes widened as she watched her classmates charge towards Chat and Juleka in unison. Jumping into the fray, Ladybug twirled her yoyo into a shield and yelled at Chat behind her.

“Hurry up and get Juleka away from here, while I distract them!”

“But, Ladybug-”

“Just go!”

Chat looked from Ladybug, who was slowly being overrun by Princess Fragrance’s minions, to Juleka in his arms. Making a decision, he carefully set her down and whispered at her to run when she was ready, before joining in the battlefield. He jumped in front of Ladybug and swung his baton, knocking out half of them.

“Sorry, Ladybug. I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Ladybug huffed, but didn’t have time to check on Juleka as the minions recovered and charged towards them even more aggressively. Ladybug swung her yoyo, making sure it wrapped around one of the farther lamp posts before swinging across the crowd, making sure to kick some of them down. When she landed, she searched for Princess Fragrance.

Where could she have gone? She was here a second ago.

She quickly scanned the area before she spotted her, racing down the bridge followed by Luka and Anarka. They were now behind the crowd that Chat Noir was still struggling against and Juleka was slowing down by the looks of it. If Ladybug didn’t hurry soon, she’d be captured next.

Hurriedly, Ladybug swung over the crowd again, making sure to grab Chat Noir on the way.

“Thank you, bugaboo. Now, I think it’s time to pull the ace up our sleeve, right?”

Ladybug nodded. “Lucky Charm!”

A spool of red yarn dropped in her hands.

“What the heck am I supposed to do with this?” Ladybug asked as she scrutinized the object. Sighing, she ran towards Juleka and Princess Fragrance, hoping to at least prevent further damage. She was hurrying so much, that she barely heard Chat shout something about fate and strings.

With a thud, she managed to push Luka and Anarka away, before landing on her feet. Not even a second passed before Princess Fragrance kicked her in the chest and she rolled away. Luckily, Chat caught her before she fell headfirst, but she could already feel the bruises forming.

She could only watch as Princess Fragrance approached Juleka who shook in place.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Rose said. “Nothing can tear us apart now. We will be together forever.”

Ladybug watched in horror as Princess Fragrance reached up to caress Juleka’s cheek. Her earring beeped. She had to hurry.

What was it that Chat had said? Strings and fate?

She glanced down at the spool of yarn in her hand.

Oh.

The red string of fate.

Ladybug stood up and rushed in between the two girls, tying one end of the string on each of their fingers. Princess Fragrance and Juleka jerked back in surprise.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Ladybug glanced to Juleka nervously and winked, hoping she would play along. “You’re right, Princess Fragrance! With this red string of fate, you and Juleka can now be together forever! It is said that the red string ties soulmates together in an unbreakable bond.”

Princess Fragrance squealed. “I knew it, I knew it!”

Ladybug watched as Chat snuck behind Princess Fragrance and snatched at the perfume bottle in her belt. However, the bottle accidentally sprayed and Chat started to sing praises to Princess Fragrance.

Princess Fragrance turned around, then turned back to Ladybug scandalized. “Wait! This was a trick! You don’t think my princess and I are meant to be at all! You just wanted to take her away from me! You-!”

Before she said anything else, Ladybug had already untied Juleka from the other end and dragged Princess Fragrance closer to her. Before she could attempt anything, Ladybug spun her around and around until the yarn had effectively tied her up.

Juleka rushed over to Princess Fragrance and grabbed the perfume bottle, giving it to Ladybug. She quickly purified it and untied Rose before enacting the Miraculous Cure.

She knelt down beside Juleka, making sure that Rose wasn’t too disoriented from the attack. True to the Cure, everyone else was waking up from their slumber, and any of the injured were instantly healed.

However, Marinette knew that each one of them remembered; something even the Miraculous Cure couldn’t fully erase. All of them remembered; except for the victim.

“Hey,” she said softly, brushing aside Rose’s bangs to reveal her teary eyes. “What happened? This was the third time this week.”

When Rose couldn’t do anything but sniffle and curl into Juleka’s embrace, Juleka replied, “It’s been a rough week for her. Chloe’s anger makes her more nervous than she lets on. We bumped into Lila who complimented us today and Chloe happened to be nearby and told Rose that no one would really love her.”

Ladybug frowned. Already, she knew that no other result could’ve come from having Chloe and Lila in the same vicinity.

She watched Juleka rub Rose’s back softly and murmur sweet words of comfort. Ladybug awkwardly patted Rose’s back twice before she stood up. Her earring beeped again, and she stood up.

“Look, I’ve noticed that your classmates have been targeted more recently. I’ll try to see what’s going on, but my advice is to stick together. Even if people you don’t like taunt you, make sure you support each other.”

Juleka nodded. “Thank you. We know you can help us.”

Ladybug forced herself to smile. “Of course.”

With that, she swung away and hid in a random alley. Before she de-transformed, she sent Chat a quick message to meet up later at the Eiffel Tower.

________________________________________________________________

When she finally returned to her room, she was greeted by a multitude of kwamis: Pollen. Trixx, Sass, Longg, and Wayzz. Each of the kwamis sat upon their customized jewelry boxes that doubled as a bed and a miraculous container.

“Welcome home, Marinette!”

Marinette smile at them, setting down a bowl of food she had taken from the kitchen. “Hey guys. I bet you’re hungry, feel free to dig in!”

She watched as the kwamis fervently dived into the bowl, eating as much as their tiny stomachs could feel. Glancing to her closet, she could envision the other kwamis entrapped in the Miracle Box, isolated from their world.

Marinette wasn’t too sure why, but when Master Fu gave up his guardianhip, the Miracle Box had transformed into a red and black polka-dotted egg. She hadn’t thought too much of it then, but she later realized that the box was locked. As far as she or the kwamis knew, it was inaccessible. Marinette watched as the kwamis floated over their jewelry boxes. She sighed, feeling unprepared for the future of being a Guardian ahead of her; she still couldn’t believe that Master Fu was gone, but the future didn’t wait, and it would string her along whether she wanted it to or not.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked, floating closer to her owner’s face.

She sighed again. “I’m just thinking about the Miracle Box again. I don’t know how else we can get it to open, and the only other person who would know, no longer remembers!”

Wayzz floated next to her and gently patted her arm. “It will all work out, Marinette. Have you tried looking through the Miracle Journal, yet?”

Marinette sighed and buried her head in her arms. “Even if I did, I don’t think I would understand a thing.”

“What do you mean?” Wayzz asked, floating to sit on Marinette’s head. “Master Fu left a translated copy for you on his tablet. He had it with him when he went to fight Hawkmoth.”

Marinette shot up and cupped Wayzz in her hands. “Wayzz, there was no tablet when we rescued Master Fu. There was no tablet in the locker either.”

The kwamis’ chatter stopped and their eyes widened.

“Then, that means…,” Wayzz trailed off.

Marinette heard herself whisper as the daunting thought loomed upon them:

“Hawkmoth has the tablet.”

#miraclesingotham #maribat au #mlb x dc #oof poor rose #three times in a week? im cruel #sorry for the crap fight scene #rip #oh and chat made it home fine #hes still singing a ballad tho #damian x marinette #daminette #ml x dc

272 notes · View notes

afterreign · 4 years

Text

lovers is plural pairing: implied akeshu/shuake, background ann/shiho & ann/mika beta reader: @jubilantscribbler a/n: no p5r spoilers summary: The Phantom Thieves, an infamous name that empowers the young and instills fear in the corrupt, hold their most important meeting yet. Just who is Takamaki Ann, code name Panther, dating?

Today, Akira is not nervous. There are no battle strategies to discuss, no infiltration route to go over. He is free, not having to relentlessly plan out solutions for all of the potentially bad outcomes that could come to fruition in their next palace escapade.

(Although, he should do that, Morgana’s incessant pleas to sleep be damned.)

No, today is a day he can breathe easy. Today, he is confident.

Akira slides a 100 yen coin.

“Ann is definitely going out with Shiho.”

The response between the Phantom Thieves—sans Ann, of course—is mixed.

“Dude,” Ryuji deadpans, “for real? We’re makin’ bank, yet you’re only gonna bet, like, a coin?”

The weight, or lack thereof, to Akira’s wallet disagrees completely. “It’s fair,” he reasons, internally stomping away at the compulsion to present how truly empty his wallet is to everyone else. “Plus, we’re still high schoolers. College funds and stuff.”

The word “college” attracts the local student body president like a moth to a debt-filled flame. Ugh, third years. “While I would agree that saving up for college is admirable,” Makoto says with a laugh, “I believe we need to backtrack a little.”

Akira sucks in a breath when the brunette places an unwrinkled 1000 yen bill on the table. Makoto’s eyes shine a little. “I am placing my bets on… Mika-san.”

“Thank you!” Futaba, the resident shut-in, erupts, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m glad there’s some common sense here.”

This, of course, ensues verbal chaos. Ryuji, lovely Ryuji with a heart of gold, slams his hands down on the table, protesting all of Futaba’s points. (“Have you seen her look at Shiho?!” the blond exclaims. “Hell, I want someone to look at me like that!”) Futaba spouts something about common media tropes and otome games and other concepts that fly right over top student Akira’s head. Makoto is somehow the mediator and instigator in all of this, proudly showing the group a selfie Ann and Mika took not too long ago. Haru smiles, looking a little too apologetic for wear, before presenting an even more recent photo of Shiho and Ann going on a stroll at the nearby park. And Yusuke, passionate as ever, presents their close-knit group a highly detailed pencil drawing of Ann and Mika looking deep into each other��s sparkling eyes, and okay, this is getting weird. Possibly bordering creepy, and—

Akechi is sitting there with a pained expression masked poorly. He is sipping his coffee cup. It has been empty for the past ten minutes.

“—I feel inspired gazing upon two colleagues enraptured with one another,” Yusuke finishes confessing. Akira, admittedly, hadn’t caught the earlier half. A none the wiser Yusuke nods sagely, eyes closed. “There is no doubt in my mind… Ann and Mika-san must be together.”

“But,” Haru starts, “I can’t help but see Ann and Suzui-san in a relationship. Is that odd? I haven’t had any time to talk to Suzui-san lately, but when she attended Shujin, the two seemed close.” A fond smile crosses the third year’s face. “I can’t help but be a little jealous actually!”

Akechi politely raises his hand. His laugh sounds like it’s being played straight from his TV interviews. “Aha, well. I see everyone is getting along today. But… considering we are not discussing anything Phantom Thieves related, do you mind if I go along my way and head home?”

Everyone rightfully ignores him. Akechi remains stuck in the table booth, likely resenting the fact he came in the first place.

(Akira almost feels bad for him. Almost.)

“Well, that’s that,” determines Akira. He’s not sure what he’s actually determining, though. There is a tone of finality in his voice, and Akira simply goes along with it. He glances at both sides of the booth they’re huddled in and surmises his thoughts aloud. “Me, Ryuji, and Haru think Ann is dating Shiho. Makoto, Yusuke, and Futaba believe she’s dating Mika.”

Ryuji looks pumped. “We need a tie-breaker!”

Makoto frowns. “You… are aware that we’re taking individual bets, correct? It doesn’t matter if one ‘team’ has more people than the other.”

“Matters to me,” grumbles Ryuji, and Akira pats him on the back.

Out of the corner of Akira’s eye, he catches Haru’s glossed lips making a perfect little “o.” If the thieves were in some classic cartoon, Akira has no doubt in his mind that one of those thinking light bulbs would be flickering just above a bed of curly locks, a stubborn screw you to the laws of gravity. “Oh, Akechi-kun!” Haru turns to the detective, a curious look on her face. The light bulb is all aglow. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Call it a hunch, but Akira is sure that Akechi is swimming in many thoughts by now. Just… not anything helpful. Instead of voicing out the worst of the worst, the brunet smiles a pleasant smile. It’s strained all the same. “Well,” he begins, “before I give you my answer, mind if I express my own questions?”

Futaba minds, apparently. She groans and dives her head between the safe space of her arms. Some of the others restrain themselves to do the same.

“Is it not strange that all of you are placing bets on Takamaki-san’s love life? Does this not feel all a bit too personal?” inquires Akechi, arms crossed. Despite how light his tone is, his stare bores straight into Makoto’s eyes, judging. “I’m especially surprised that you are participating in this as well.”

Akira always felt that there was some camaraderie between Makoto and Akechi. Hair color and motivations aside, both are at the top of their grades, high marks on all of their exams. The two teens are cunning and have a similar interest in law and speak softly when it matters most. They’re arguably the most mature of their group, but… they slip.

Right now is not one of those times.

Makoto doesn’t flinch. “You… must not know me well then, Akechi-kun,” she states. “I admit that once the rest of the Phantom Thieves proposed—” Makoto quickly waves a hand at everyone. “—this, I thought it was… immature, at first. But I soon came to understand that we do this because we care about Ann.”

“And it’s fun!” adds Ryuji. Yusuke is beside the blond, humming in agreement.

“Ann is always looking out for our feelings,” Haru explains, smoothing out her skirt. “Think of this as if… we’re looking out for hers. Ann is one of my dear friends, so of course, I want to support her in a happy and healthy relationship.” Graciously, she covers a giggle behind her hand. “Although, I do think we get carried away.”

Murmurs of agreement surface between the team. And of course, Akira knows this isn’t about money. This isn’t about who’s right or wrong. It’s about Ann’s infectious laugh, about her overflowing sympathy for other people. It’s about Ann because Akira cares about his friends, and he wants the best for her—

“But are we not certain that Ann is dating Mika?” Yusuke asks, pure confusion in his voice.

—but he can still think his friends are factually wrong.

Before the debate has a chance to start up again, Akechi cuts in with a clean, “First, let’s get that tie-breaker vote in, shall we?”

“Oh, now he cares,” Ryuji scoffs.

Suddenly, Akira hears a small gasp. He turns his head to the not-so-mysterious source and finds a shocked Futaba gaping at no one in particular. “We forgot to ask Mona!” she yelps, startling everyone else from the calm. The shut-in whips her head away from everyone and begins shouting at the staircase. “Hey, Mona! Mona!”

For once, Akira is glad Sojiro decided not to stay and make the gang lunch.

It takes a few moments before Akira hears the creak of Leblanc’s wooden stairs. Slowly, Morgana’s nose peeks out from behind the rails before his head and his furry body follow suit. He moves down each step, one careful paw after the other, before dragging his dark tail across the white tile floor and hopping onto the table.

Oh, the bespectacled boy thinks belatedly.

Morgana is sulking.

Triangular ears are flat against his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” the feline-but-not-really says with a sigh.

Ryuji makes a low whistle and leans back into his seat. The booth does not bother to budge. “Damn, and I thought you liked talkin’ about your ‘Lady Ann,’ Mona.”

Akira does not miss Morgana’s withering look. In an effort to placate him, the teen reaches over and strokes Morgana’s favorite spot on his head despite the not-cat’s silent protests. Akira then leans over and speaks low into Morgana’s ears. “You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to. I know you wanted to skip out since…”

The silence speaks for itself. Morgana looks at him, and the former appears deep in thought, tail swaying as if searching for answers. Eventually, the tail comes to a halt. “Thanks,” he purrs, and Akira isn’t entirely convinced if it’s intentional or not. “But I got this.”

Akira feels a tug at the corners of his mouth. Satisfied, he leans back, watching Morgana take center stage.

“As someone who knows Lady Ann the best,” Morgana declares, chin held high, “I think it’s important that we consider other options. What if she isn’t dating any of them?”

Leblanc’s resident dyed blond groans. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you like her!”

“Am not!”

“Uh,” Futaba butts in, “are we gonna ignore the fact that none of us updated Mona on what we’re talking about, yet he still responds like he’s been here?”

Morgana seethes out an impatient “I live here,” while Akira says effectively the same thing, only with a switch of the pronouns. Okay, that didn’t work. Clearly, Akira needs a new plan—one that involves less bickering with an animal so they don’t all look insane when an innocent customer decides to walk in and witnesses the incarnate of chaos and more… amicable relations. More bets, perhaps.

Curiously enough, it’s Haru who takes the reins, sending Akira a small smile before speaking up. “Maybe if Mona-chan understands why we think Ann has a significant other, he can decide for himself.”

Akira may be a heathen, but God bless Haru.

As Akira is internally singing his praises, the conversation thankfully segues back to Ann and a hyper analysis of her love life. Futaba mentions how she first found out about Ann’s secret romance after forgetting to debug the café. (Akechi then sends Akira an alarmed look the latter chooses to dutifully ignore.) Haru continues that line of thought, recalling Ann’s inquiries regarding the language of flowers and the like, and Akira makes sure to ignore that tinge of jealousy stirring in his stomach even though he knows that Ann knows his hard work in memorizing a bunch of flower symbolism for his job in the underground mall.

He sighs and mentally sweeps his slight envy under the rug. Priorities, Akira.

It’s not until Makoto clears her throat and poses the daunting question of “So, do you believe us?” to Morgana that all eyes fall back on the not-cat, waiting patiently.

The sway of his tail falters. “... Yes,” he bites out. Morgana’s face contorts like he’s devoured a lemon. “Guess this is what you unrequited love, huh?”

Luckily, Ryuji has the decency to stay quiet as Haru breathes an apologetic “Oh, Mona-chan…” and pets the not-cat’s torso.

The group falls into an almost comfortable silence, save for Morgana’s drooping ears that nearly makes Akira leap forward and shower him with many affectionate head pats. Akira otherwise lets his mind wander. He drifts between the scent of Sojiro’s curry ingrained in the dark walls of Leblanc and his daydream of a flustered Ann grasping the hands of a faceless lover, rotating from Mika to Shiho to a mixture of the two’s features. The arch of the rival model’s groomed eyebrows and the doe eyes of the ex-Shujin student are rolled into one.

Features, Akira absently thinks, and for some reason, his eyes linger on the jaunt of a certain detective’s chin, the curve of his lithe neck, the way he carefully tucks a chestnut-colored lock behind his ear. His eyebrows, not unlike Mika’s, are furrowed. Dark, gloved hands hold a gray smartphone that is definitely not bugged by someone that rhymes with Fakura Sutaba, and hazel eyes—red, if you catch them when the glint of the sunlight hits them just right—are fixated on the screen.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Akechi of all people, the same Akechi who never dares to back away from a challenge, continues the conversation, not bothering to look up from his phone.

(But it does come as a surprise, oddly enough. Because Akira, jolted out of his daydream and thrusted into reality, is looking, and he feels like he shouldn’t be.)

“Have we come to a conclusion about our findings then?” Akechi questions, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Pardon me,” Yusuke voices, “but I assumed you held no interest in Ann’s love life like the rest of us.”

Akechi, lo and behold, bears another classic (read: fake) smile of his. “I don’t particularly. However, it seems like you all are stumped, and I do enjoy a good mystery. After all, I am a detective, aren’t I?”

Akira resists the urge to point out how the unknown identity of Ann’s girlfriend is a far cry from a good mystery, much less anything more than petty gossip when not discussed amongst friends. Instead, he motions the brunet to continue with a flick of the wrist.

Finally, Akechi looks up. “Have any of you considered the antithesis to Morgana’s hypothesis?”

Ryuji frowns. “The… what?”

“I believe Akechi-kun is talking about the opposite of what Morgana initially thought,” clarifies Makoto. “Which means…”

The gears in Akira’s head turn by the end of Makoto’s unfinished remark. His mind swims around antithesis and Ann and the underlying yet unknown connection between the two, trying to grasp at a lost thread he’s determined to find. (Anntithesis! his brain unhelpfully supplies a beat later before he dismisses it completely.) He thinks back to what the group assessed before: selfies, flowers, the like. Selfies, flowers, the like.

Selfies.

… Were they selfies?

Akira is backtracking now, attempting to recreate the images Makoto and Haru had shown the rest of the group earlier in his head. He closes his eyes and thinks. Mika and Ann’s picture can be excused as a selfie, sure. The two were pressed close together in the photograph, shoulders bumping and heads tilting inward to stay in frame. A part of Ann’s arm was cut off from where they took the picture. Sly smirks on both of their photogenic faces.

By all means, it’s a regular, old photo. A selfie, likely.

Then, what about Ann and Shiho’s? Akira recalls Inokashira Park as the backdrop of the image, an abundance of green flooding his vision. He’s quite familiar with the area, too; jogging with the former track star there whenever his body can endure the brutality of cardio is one form of torture Akira will never forget.

If he recalls correctly, the photo was awfully similar to its counterpart. Heads inclined towards one another, shared smiles, and⁠—

Ann and Shiho were holding up peace signs, both pairs of arms visible in frame.

It’s a cliché to gasp. Akira knows this and does it anyway because one, he is surprised and two, he loves being dramatic. The act earns a rather bemused look from Akechi that’s immediately disguised as a roll of the eyes.

The rest of the thieves follow suit as realization dawns on them. Makoto nods. Futaba blinks. Ryuji’s jaw drops. Haru, polite as ever, raises a hand to mask the shock evident on her face. Morgana’s eyes go and widen to the size of Kamoshida’s golden medal, round and shimmering and unbelievable.

Yusuke is the last one to come around, and he barely manages to gather his bearings in time to ask, “Can it truly be…?”

A delightful ping rings in the still air.

“See for yourself,” Akechi says, voice breezy, and slides his phone down on the table.

“Do you think they’ve seen your Instagram post?”

Shiho asks this while peering over Ann’s shoulder, watching the likes accumulate at a rapid speed. The end of her ponytail brushes against the blonde’s nape. Ann struggles to suppress a giggle.

“Oh, maybe?” It comes out unsure, reluctant. Ann taps her chin. ”But my phone hasn’t blown up with text messages yet. And trust me, I would know when my friends saw it.”

The other model waves it off, nonchalant. “They’ll figure out soon enough anyway." A pause. Then, Mika sighs. “Looks like the entire population of Tokyo will, too. I don’t know why you wanted to do this, but I’m sure our agency is going to love capitalizing on it…”

“Ugh, agency shmagency!” Ann, who has no concept of personal space when it comes to these two, gathers both of the girls in her arms and gives them a tight squeeze. “How can I hide away my two amazing girlfriends from the world?”

Mika rolls her eyes, but the dust of pink coloring her cheeks gives her away. “Is she always this corny?”

Shiho snickers. “Oh, one hundred percent.”

#persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #goro akechi #ann takamaki #makoto niijima #ryuji sakamoto #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #来栖暁 #雨宮蓮 #高巻杏 #新島真 #坂本竜司

7 notes · View notes

every1studio · 5 years

Text

SERIES: “stages of love: platonic relationship” [ateez: san]

genre: FLUFF + drama

ficstyle: bulletpoints + series [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [END]

prompt: inspired by “Magic Shop” by BTS

note: we only got Wooyoung and Jongho left in this series (,:

San was walking up the steps one last time with his things

he was humming as he made it up the last couple of steps

why didn’t he take the elevator?

he likes going a little old-fashion; he believes that he’s living his life to the fullest that way

despite of his young age, he knows what he wants to do in life

he took over a cafe his uncle started on campus; he was able to come down every so often to make it his own

it’s not your typical cafe; he’s a very artistic being

he wants to create his own drink, his own working space

he’s his own boss

frankly speaking, he’s the only worker

the downside to this, is that he grew up with no friends around his age

he grew up in a town where he was the only youngin around and the youngest people before him was his parents

it doesn’t mean that he wasn’t loved

he was loved by everyone in his town

this made him a boy with a heart of gold

but he always felt a sense of loneliness, he wanted to have friends his age and do the things that kids his age did

that’s what he wished for on yesterday night’s brightest star

he walks up to the door of his soon-to-be room

moments away from him reaching for the doorknob, the door swung out at a fast speed

he was startled when you scream out of surprise

“ohmygosh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scream in your face!” you were clenching onto the left side of your chest; huffing and puffing the rush of adrenaline away

worried about you, he placed his free hand on your shoulder and bent down to make eye contact with you

“are you alright?”

you looked up at him

his bangs were swept back but some of his fringe was dangling over his forehead

his eyes were deep and yet the slanted upwards; like a cat

you realized that you were staring at him for too long without replying

when you were about to reply to him, Yunho came up and placed his chin on your head

“is it a delivery?”

“no, I thought it was...”

San straighten his back and gave a slight bow, “nice to meet you, I’m San-”

Yunho immediately pulls him into his arm and pats his back

“no need to be formal! we’re all around the same age here!”

San blushes at that statement

“I’ve been around older people all my life. It’s kinda hard to break this kind of habit”

you patted him on the back as well; adding on to the reassurance, “it’s a good thing that you’re polite! you don’t have to change but you can definitely be more comfortable around us”

as you and Yunho were getting to know San more, he begins to start asking questions

“are you guys dating?” was his first question

Yunho ears get red as you spew out your water

San starts to pat you on the back as Yunho looks at you at what you would say

“uh- we’re childhood friends.. we’re really close...” you manage to say

you didn’t want to hurt Yunho’s feelings but honestly you were unsure about your feelings as well

San sensed that you were unsure with what you had said

he always good at reading people

Yunho just nods and San takes all of this into consideration as he moves on from the conversation

San soon had excused himself to work

“please visit me when you have the time~”

you and Yunho both waved at San as he smiles back at you two

...

“San’s a really likable guy”

“yeah.. he makes me want to protect you know?”

“yeah...”

you and Yunho were still thinking about what San had asked earlier but none of you had the courage to say anything about it

Yunho had left soon after to go to class and since you were done with classes for the rest of the day

during this time, you’d usually go to band practice

feeling a sort of emptiness inside, you decided to go to San’s cafe

you were so surprised when you saw his cafe

it was so nicely located; it was by the middle of most of the buildings on campus

since it was an one-story cafe, you weren’t expecting it to be so spacious

the light tinkle of the bell chimed when you entered

you weren’t surprised when you saw a couple of girls trying to whoo at San

frankly speaking, he was a cute boy

but in a sense that he was like a little brother to you

he was a new guy in town and after hearing his story, you couldn’t let these typical college kids use this innocent, well-mannered kid like that

San does his signature smile and nod as he thanked the customers for ordering and that he’d get their order out as soon as possible

he was wearing a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, his black apron hung a little above his waist; he looked mature, older than you knew he was

he was wiping his hands with a towel when he saw you, his eyes lit up and he smiles widely, causing the other girls to glare at you

“Y/N!” he clings onto your arm like a little kid, which was a whole 180 degree flip of duality, “I thought you were gonna visit tomorrow!”

you looked at his face with adoration but it didn’t make your heart fill up like how it sometimes did with Yunho

“I had all my classes earlier and I have some free time, so might as well!”

you patted his head as he smiled at you; he definitely reminded you of a cat

you looked around the cafe again and noticed that he had quite a lot of customers yet to be attended

so you whipped your head to look at him, in a motherly tone, you spoke to him sternly, “what are you doing, dilly-dallying? you have customers to attend!”

you tried to look for other workers but you didn’t see any in sight

“you’re the only one working?!”

he smiled shyly as he swung your arm back and forth

but you gave him a dead glare

“don’t think you can smile out of this one. I’ll help you out!”

you didn’t think you’d have a good time if you attended the customers that were literally there to talk to San, so you told him you’d help make drinks

thankfully, he had a little handbook of his special drinks

you worked at a cafe before but these drinks were drinks you usually didn’t find in a regular cafe

sea salt cream cheese latte, watermelon mint lemonade, orange creamsicle macchiato, etc

you didn’t notice San coming around the corner; he noticed how focused you were trying to make the drinks look like how it was in the photos he took

he taps on your shoulder

and when you turned around, he poked your cheek

“why so serious?” he imitates the Joker making you laugh at his accurate imitation

he took the time to teach you things you didn’t understand

and honestly? it was a fun time

you didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything

it was like playing your guitar and singing but in a whole new light

it had only been a day and you could safely say that spending time with San was like spending time with your twin

from the outside looking in, people would assume that you and San were lovey-dovey with one another

all those girls that were glaring at you for being close to San, but it didn’t bother you

you didn’t have friends beside Yunho and so having a friend without worrying about gender or religion or race or any sort of discrimination, was something you always dreamed of having

because you always believe that guys and girls can be just friends, but you never had that chance to experience it after Yunho

after most of the customers had left, you said you’d leave first and you’d see him again tomorrow

after you left, he clenched onto his good luck charm as he smiled, “I thought I was going to be lonely for a while... I guess good luck charms really work..”

you went to visit him everyday, getting to know him more

sometimes you’d help him out when it seemed like it got too busy but he never actually ask you to help him

it started to become very comfortable being with him, like you’ve known him for a while now

he would put positive sticky notes in your apron pockets to make you smile

you both even had inside jokes at this point

you came in again on a weekend and surprisingly it wasn’t busy so you and San sat down to have a chat

“so!” he gets your attention

“what’s up with you and Yunho? like seriously?” he kept on tugging onto your sleeves until you gave him a slightly frustrating sigh

“why do you want to know so badly?” you tried to get out of the question

but San was good at reeling the conversation back on topic

“do you like him? or does he like you and you know it?”

you pursed your lips into a fine line, “all the above”

hoping that you spoke small enough so that he wouldn’t hear you but he did

“so why won’t you do anything about it?”

you ran your fingers through your hair, “honestly... I don’t know... I don’t have the best luck with love and I don’t want to ruin what I have with Yunho....”

“even when you know that he likes you too?”

San’s voice softened as he leans in to make sure that you are okay

you shrugged

you recently reunited with Yunho so you didn’t want to move too fast

you told San everything that happened to your life since you started college

San was intently listening; he was just to it since he was surrounded by old people rambling on and on

he loved to listen

but he also loved to give advice

“I think that you should take it slow, things will fall into place with time... if it feels rushed, take one step back and go over how it got to that point..”

the whole time he held onto your hand

even when you noticed that, it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable at all

“and if things go wrong, you can always visit me at the “Magic Shop.” I’ll always be here for you..”

it made you feel so reassured knowing that you have some sort of a support system outside of your family

whenever you shared something personal, he’d shared something as well so you didn’t have to feel so exposed

you both get up as the sun was setting into golden hour

“you know what? how about you work here at the cafe if you don’t have a job? I’ll definitely pay you and honestly, I’ll have someone to help me out!”

San excitedly slings his arm over your shoulder

you give him a side glare as you shimmy out of his hold and reach up to put him in a headlock, “what if I don’t want to?”

he looked up at you with puppy-eyes, “you don’t?”

you ruffled his hair and let go as you stuck you tongue out at him, “you know, maybe I should open up my own cafe and take your recipes!”

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!”

he chased you as you continued to joke around until you bumped into someone

he was kind of intimidating and he definitely gave bad boy vibes

but you knew you shouldn’t judge someone by their appearance

you apologized and asked him if he was getting anything from the cafe

he looked at his phone then back at you, “could I get a table for two?”

“o-oh y-yeah..” you led him to the table as went behind the counter to make drinks

you went to the counter to get menus when he quietly spoke to you, “that guy’s in my class.. he looks kinda scary so I never talked to him before..”

“ahh..” you mouthed as you made your way back at the table

there was a girl sitting across from the guy

it was Aurora, you didn’t think you’d ever see her again

but that was inevitable since you both enrolled to the same university

you quickly turned around before she was able to notice you

you shoved the menus at San

San saw your flustered actions when you saw the girl sitting across from his classmate so he went to go take care of their order instead

you quietly made their drinks and hid behind the counter

SPLASH

everyone in the cafe went silent when they saw Aurora holding an empty glass with its content soaking the boy across from her

“I can’t believe you!”

the poor boy wiped his face with his sleeve and then he glares at her, you were scared he was going to do something

“you’re the one cheating on everyone with everyone...” he murmurs but it was loud enough for everyone to hear

she notices that everyone is watching; luckily she didn’t see you behind the plants on the counter

she huffs out of embarrassment and left the store without paying

San awkwardly placed napkins on the table and tried to help the boy from the mess

the boy thanked San but got up to leave after cleaning up the area

he went over to you and took out his card to pay for the drinks

“can I get my drink to-go, please?” was all he asked and you did just that

he thanked you and San and apologized to the customers for the disturbance and left

soon, the customers started to go back to their previous conversations

“that was kinda weird...” San said as he threw all the dirty napkins in the trash

“yeah.. remember Aurora? that was her..” you shrugged

you weren’t afraid of her, if anything, you pitied her

San made a wincing face, “she’s toxic, I don’t like her”

“same”

you couldn’t help but think of the statement that guy said earlier, “you’re the one cheating on everyone with everyone...”

you then thought of Hongjoong and Seonghwa

that thought quickly went away when Yunho finally took the time to visit San’s cafe

he noticed that you were getting close with San but you told him it was just platonic

when Yunho asked his roommate the same thing, and San told him the same thing

“you’re here?”

Yunho looked at his watch and back at you, “wanna go grab some food?”

it was his subtle way of asking you out; was what Yunho thought and what San knew

San smiled at you at nodded his head at Yunho

you threw your apron on the counter and told San that you’d see him tomorrow

San felt lonely again... maybe this “platonic” relationship with you is something that wasn’t enough for him anymore

but all of this was just a thought that floated away as soon as it came up

the boy idly walks down the street; his stained hoodie stuck to his skin but that didn’t bother him

(love at first sight is such a shitty concept) he thought

he shoved his hands in his pockets as plans to continue to walk around campus

he walks into a bar/restaurant; and he sees a familiar face

it was you

Yunho was in the bathroom so you were sitting at the bar by yourself

for some reason, he wanted to make small talk with you

but when he saw the blue-haired boy sit down next to you, he saw the lovey-dovey look you both had in your eyes as you guys talked to each other

that’s what he wanted

love; to be in love and to be loved

he wants someone to focus solely on him as he would for them

he finds himself sitting in the area at the bar where he was able to see you and Yunho become engross in each other’s presence

the boy was so intrigued with how you were openingly laughing at the silliness of the other boy; not being embarrassed by him

seeing where he went wrong and how he can find a love like yours

WHO IS THIS HEARTBROKEN BOY? WILL SAN KNOW WHAT HE’S FEELING INSIDE?

[ masterlist + guidelines ]

266 notes · View notes

designsfromtime · 5 years

Text

A Frank Conversation About Selling on Etsy:

So, you have a hobby. Your friends and family LOVE your work and advise: “You should sell your stuff!” Maybe you need some extra income and you hope you can supplement your bank account with a side hustle. So you open an Etsy store, spend hours wording your “About Me” page, upload some pictures, and then you wait for that first sale…annnd…crickets.

This is a scenario that is repeated thousands of times every day. I hear it constantly from disappointed and angry Etsy shop owners. So what do you do? Blame Etsy? Pay money for one of those “opportunists” who promise more sales if you buy in and follow their model with little to no success? Get angry and give up?

This isn’t a post telling you “how to be successful” on Etsy. Rather, it’s a very frank conversation to help with your “expectations” and, yeah, maybe give you a little advice.

Before you open your store answer some very frank questions: Did you do your homework? - Did you go on Etsy and search for items similar to yours? Is the market already saturated? – or do you have a unique item that isn’t available? If there are items similar to yours are they of better quality and workmanship? - or poorer quality than your work? Answering these questions is ESSENTIAL and it will take total HONESTY and objectivity on your part, as well as from your friends and family who are advising you.

The first step is to self-assess your quality of work and your business model, as well as your expectations. The raw truth is, I don’t know ANYONE who has quit their day job and is supporting themselves through their Etsy store – Including ME!!

So let’s talk about each of these topics individually.

DID YOU DO YOUR HOMEWORK:

Whether it’s bath bombs or historical gowns, you have to research your target market. You cannot skip this step!

For example, my daughter recently started a side-hustle making all-natural stain-free bath bombs, sugar scrubs, body butter, and whipped soaps to help with her Bachelor’s degree. Before she began, she purchased items from the most successful company offering bath bombs and tried them out. Turns out, they weren’t the same quality as hers – just mass produced. She researched the pros and cons of bath bombs using the feedback from those in her inner circle. What did they like or dislike about the competitor’s product. The biggest complaint - - they stain the bathtub and they weren’t hydrating! So, taking that feedback she played with her recipe and came up with bath bombs that are not only moisturizing, but DON’T stain the bathtub. She also offers themes and scents inspired by books or movies such as Harry Potter. That’s her hook! That’s what makes HER product stand out.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/NightMareBathandBody?ref=pr2018_faveshops

It’s essential that you do your research before you open an Etsy store - or move to the on-line market in general.

To use historical costuming as an example. Let’s say you bought a slanted riding hat pattern and made yourself a ridding hat to wear at renfaire. You got lots of compliments on your hat and some of your fellow Rennies asked, “Where did you get your hat?” You tell them you made it, and they ask you to make them one. In consequence you decide if “so-and-so” liked my work, maybe I can parlay this into a side hustle? But before you make that leap, have you researched how many 16th Century riding hats are available on Etsy?

Let’s say there are quite a few listings already on Etsy. Let’s say you look up the seller who has the most sales of that particular item. So, how does your work compare? Is your fabric smooth on the base, or are their visible puckers? How is their hand-stitching? – are your stitches as small and even as your competitor? How much are they asking? Be objective! It can be painful to compare your work, but it’s important if you want to be competitive.

Let’s say, your work is passable. Maybe it’s not exactly the same quality as your competitor, but pretty darn good in your opinion, so you decide that your way “in” is to undercut all those who are selling similar items. This is a tactic I see ALL THE TIME. But have you actually calculated your costs? How many hats can you get out of one yard of fabric? How many hats can you make with a yard of trim? Are you buying your bases ready-made, or making your own? How much does it cost for you to make your base versus buying ready-made? How much is the millinery wire you need to use? How much wire do you need to use for one hat?

All these questions are essential to calculate your TRUE costs. In addition, have you factored in the fees Etsy will charge you once a sale is made – to include the actual listing fees, as well as the cost of shipping.

When you undercut your competitors you cheat yourself, and then wonder why you aren’t making a profit! I’m not talking a few dollars. I’m talking about setting your prices so low you are barely making a profit. You say: “But, I’ll raise my prices later after people get to know my work!” Yeah - - I actually did that. BIG MISTAKE! I started off at a competitive price and the orders came pouring in. It felt great! I felt validated. But when I factored in all the extras I was offering that made my work stand out, and was not charging for, guess what happened? When I started charging what my hats and headdresses were actually worth, and factoring in my actual costs, I saw a drop off in sales. Did I lower my prices again? NO! Every bead, every piece of trim, every stitch has value. So does your time!!!! Value your work and value your time. If it is quality it will stand alone among the hundreds of others being sold.

When you value your time and price your items accordingly, you will attract a caliber of customers who recognize the quality of your work. But your work needs to hold up in terms of quality. This is where you will need to be objective. That process can be painful. Trust me, I know!

I randomly run searches on Etsy to gauge what’s selling and what’s not – what’s available, and how they are similar to mine, and how much they are selling it for. What I often find are sewists selling items at ridiculously low costs. So low, in fact, I often wonder how in the world they can justify selling a gown for $200 when fabric and supplies make up 75% or more of their total listing price. I know what fabric costs. I know how many hours it takes to construct that item, and when I see shop owners selling items at ridiculously low prices the first thing I do is check where they are located. Many times they are over-seas sellers. The US dollar is worth more in many countries, but there are HUGE risks buying from over-seas vendors. I’ve heard too many horror stories, and quite frankly their work just doesn’t stand up to my standards for historical accuracy. But that’s another story for another time.

NEVER price your items based on the lowest prices! Figure out your costs, to include your Etsy fees, and pay yourself a FAIR wage. Ignore, the bargain basement over-seas sellers. What you need to be putting your energy toward is honing your skills and making your items truly competitive. If an item is of the highest quality, people will recognize it and they will remember you.

If you cannot self-assess your work honestly and be objective and see where you need to improve, chances are you will be disappointed in the outcome of your shop. Just as important is to VALUE your work. If your work is not the same quality as your biggest competitor, you are setting yourself up to fail. Yes, there is a market for everyone’s work, but here’s the honest truth: Just like you “get what you pay for” you attract a certain caliber of customer by what you charge!

Here’s an example for you! I have a young friend who likes to sew. She made an Outlander costume for her mother for Halloween using the American Duchess pattern. At her mother’s encouragement, she decided to open an Etsy store and she listed the costume she had made for her mother, and set her price at a ridiculously low cost, at least in comparison to mine. A woman who “claimed” to be a reporter purchased an item in January 2019. She ordered a pair of stays and a bodice and skirt. She claimed she wanted to wear it because she was going to “interview” the cast of Outlander. (I called bullsh*t, and her behavior only validated my prediction). My friend followed the same procedure I do, making the stays first and sending them to her, because you need measurements wearing your stays in order to construct the gown and have it fit properly. After multiple messages to the buyer, in which she tried to get the buyer to give her correct measurements, the buyer wasn’t responding, or was avoiding it claiming she was “too busy.” I saw my friend the following AUGUST and the woman still had not complied with her request for proper measurements!! She sent her a picture wearing her stays and expected my friend to figure out her size by the picture!!

My friend asked me for advice on how to handle the situation. With my assistance, we wrote the buyer on Etsy and explained IN DETAIL what she needed and WHY, and informed her that because she had not complied with getting her the specific measurements needed to complete the commission she would place the order on hold until the woman had time to provide her with what she needed. The woman tried to wiggle her way out of the commission after nine months by stating how busy she was in her work, and how she didn’t have a measuring tape and how inconvenient it was for her to find someone to take her measurements, and that maybe my friend should just cancel the order and refund her deposit as she didn’t want to keep “her” waiting. Yeah – Nice try, right?

Well, my friend had used the deposit to purchase fabric and supplies! – Not to mention, after NINE months it was too late to issue a refund. After 60 days PayPal won’t issue a refund.

Come October, two months after she reached out to me for help, my friend was still battling with this woman for the measurements she needed, and the hateful snit complained to Etsy, and then tried to open a dispute with PayPal! She claimed she didn’t believe her deposit had been used for supplies! I instructed my friend to send the woman the unfinished gown and ALL the supplies she’d purchased, stand her ground and NOT issue a refund, and chalk it up as a lesson learned. Bottom line? If this gal really WAS scheduled to interview the Outlander cast, she would have made more of an effort I’m here to tell you! But this client more than likely saw a seller who was just starting out, had only a couple of items in her Etsy store, purchased the costume on the cheap, and then tried to get one over on my friend.

This example is something you need to be prepared to deal with. You will need to be comfortable setting boundaries and being assertive! You need to be able to intuit when someone is trying to scam you, and you also need to know PayPal and Etsy’s policies. One of the mistakes my friend made was taking her conversation off the Etsy site and emailing this client. Communication on Etsy is a pain in the arse, but you CANNOT take your discussion off site! Doing so is against Etsy’s policies. Why? You need a paper trail, so to speak, of your communication. You need to document your conversations in an Etsy thread so that if a dispute is raised, Etsy can review your conversation. In this instance, my friend had documented her difficulties through the Etsy thread and they saw the efforts she had made to gain the client’s compliance and they ruled in my friend’s favor. But this is not always the case!

The moral of the story: If you price your work at bargain basement prices, you will more than likely attract clients JUST like this person. Now that’s not always the case. There are shady people out there, and even if you charge what you’re worth you will find clients who test your patience.

For instance, I had a client order a riding hat from me a few years back. She had a short deadline, so I went to JoAnns and purchased the silk and began construction. After two weeks she tried to cancel the order stating she found a hat to borrow and didn’t need to buy one at this time. I told her it was too late to cancel as I had already purchased fabrics and started construction, so she opened a dispute with PayPal and told them it was a fraudulent purchase! – claiming someone used her PayPal account without her permission. I supplied PayPal with documentation of our conversations, but they ruled in her favor because it fell within their 60-day deadline! It turned out I had another client who wanted a hat in the same color and was the same size, so I went ahead and issued her refund, but I told her that because of her shady behavior I would not accept any commissions from her in the future. She actually had the audacity to become highly insulted that I would refuse any future commissions and actually made ME out to be the bad guy for setting boundaries with a client who had wiggled their way out of a commission by lying!! Yeah…There are some “special” people out there, and it’s all part of working with the public, so be prepared!

I’ve also had people contact me to request I sell them one of my headdresses, but they only wanted the base. They didn’t want me to cover it and decorate it. I’m highly intuitive and I smelled a rat. I knew instinctively that what they wanted was to take my base and replicate my pattern, because I have created my pattern and it’s not for sale - anywhere! Working with the public can make you question the future of mankind, because there are some shady creeps out there with zero integrity. You will need to be prepared to bite the bullet and deal with them if you plan to work in customer service.

IS THE MARKET FLOODED:

There are a TON of historical costumes listed on Etsy. Your first step is to evaluate what’s being offered and judge whether or not you are offering something that is actually needed. When I have an idea or find an item I want to make, the first thing I do is run a search for that item. If there are tons of the same item, here’s where you need to be objective and realistic. What’s going to attract sales to your store if there are dozens and dozens of shops offering the same thing?

I participate in some of the groups Etsy offers just for sellers. We try out new functions offered on Etsy and discuss our experiences as a seller. I hear people complain ALL the time about their items not selling. But let’s get honest. How can you expect to be competitive if your product doesn’t stand out from all the others? What makes yours unique when dozens of sellers are offering the same thing? Lowering the price isn’t a strategy that is recommended. Running sales and promotions are fine, but as we’ve already discussed selling yourself short may only be a temporary boon. It’s just not a sustainable business model. Not when you are selling your items for less than what your supplies and labor costs. Find your niche!

If the market is already flooded, perhaps you might reconsider offering that item or reconsider opening a store all together. Chances are, if you ignore that advice, you will not see any activity in your store. That’s probably not the advice you want to hear, but wouldn’t you rather someone be honest with you?

Also, and you’re gonna hate this one as well – Your family and friends are NOT objective! It’s human nature. What might look great to them, might not attract attention in a larger market. That’s a painful truth.

ARE THE ITEMS SIMILAR TO YOURS BETTER QUALITY?

Being objective is painful, but it’s necessary.

If you’ve decided to press forward and offer items that are already being sold on Etsy, the essential next step is to assess the quality of your work. Before you enter the retail arena, take the necessary time to hone your craft. Quality is the ONLY way you will attract attention when you are offering items that are already flooding the Etsy or on-line market. Again, undercutting costs is not a sustainable business model, so take the time – however long it takes – until your products are comparable and marketable. If your workmanship isn’t on par, then work for the next year or so to hone your skills and find people who can be kindly objective that can counsel you on where or what needs improvement. Don’t take that criticism personally. We all start somewhere. I wish you could see some of my first corsets! God, they were BAD. I mean – REALLY BAD!

One of the things you can do to hone your craft is to AVOID commercial patterns! These commercial patterns are not always historically based – In fact, most are not even close! Some are pretty good but DO YOUR RESEARCH. Read books on costuming. Invest and develop your reference library. Participate in historical groups on social media – hopefully you find those who are inclusive rather than snits who pick apart others’ work, and admins who DON’T participate in the petty drama. Unfortunately, that has not been my experience, so I avoid these groups. But for those who are just starting out, they can be helpful to lurk and absorb information. Ask questions if you participate in groups. BUT be prepared to deal with the costume nazis who hide behind the anonymity of the internet and are hateful and judgmental.

Rather than commercial patterns like Simplicity or McCalls, I recommend you purchase patterns that are more historical. Yes, they are expensive, but you need to invest in your craft and having the proper patterns are just as essential as your equipment. If you cannot tell the difference between Medieval, Elizabethan, Tudor, Rococo, Colonial, Regency, Victorian or Edwardian – You need to start studying! – Starting with underpinnings! There are subtle and not so subtle clothing style differences in each era. Nothing drives me more crazy than Etsy sellers or those on Ebay who buy a commercial pattern that isn’t fit for anything but a Halloween costume, and label it, “Renaissance” when it’s a mish-mosh of colonial and medieval eras. PLEASE, take the time to read and study. Do your due diligence. I have been creating historical costumes professionally since 2012 when I retired early, but I’ve been studying historical clothing since 2001 and I learn something new ALL THE TIME! I push myself and tackle new eras to hone my craft. There will always be someone who knows more than you do. Just keep learning!

I am always available to give feedback, but actually teaching construction techniques over the internet is a challenge for me because I’m generally pressed for time. Watch You Tube tutorials, take sewing lessons, learn how to drape and draft patterns, but along with all of that…Practice…Practice…Practice. I learn something new every time I tackle a new project or venture into a different era.

MANAGE YOUR EXPECTATIONS:

I am busy all year long with commissions, but most of the time we don’t get paid until a commission is complete. I also have expenses such as fees for an upgraded Etsy store, Etsy fees to list items – plus the percentage they take from each sale, as well as website fees – all of which are necessary to get your brand out there.

Aside from operating fees, I have equipment payments – because just ONE of my embroidery machines cost me over $5,000! But you see, my niche is historical embroidery and highly embellished work. I also have material fees, and repair fees on my equipment. You will need a quality sewing machine that is gear driven, rather than belt driven in order to make corsetry and to sew through layers of heavy fabric that you use in historical costuming. I have two embroidery machines, an air threading Serge/overlock machine, and a Juki semi-professional straight stitch sewing machine, as well as a smaller Brother sewing machine that we use for shirts and thinner fabrics when we both need to do machine work. I also have a cutting table with fold out eaves and cabinets that cost me $1200!! All of these tools of the trade costs MONEY. You will also need dress forms in various sizes for both men and women. The cheap ones that are adjustable are too flimsy to hold up to these heavy costumes. Dress forms can cost anywhere from $300 to $1000. If you plan to compete, you need the tools of the trade.

There are hundreds and hundreds of hobbyists who are attempting to use Etsy as a platform to sell historical clothing to supplement their income, but there are VERY few shops that offer quality items with quality workmanship. If your work isn’t a cut above, you will find yourself disappointed when your expectations fall short of reality.

Even though we stay busy all year long, I don’t make enough to support myself just on my costume commissions alone. After my husband passed away in 2009, I was fortunate enough that he left me and the kids financially stable. Without his retirement income (he was a police officer who died as a consequence of his job) I could not pay my monthly bills on my commission income alone. Lalana works three days a week doing hair and works three days a week with me in my design studio. We do this more for the passion and the creative outlet, than we do for the money. Neither of us are rolling in it!

I have had young mothers approach me about advising them on how to do costuming so they can stay home with their kids. First of all, costuming is production work. When you have a deadline to meet your clients aren’t going to understand when your kids are sick or when your husband wants to spend quality time with you, or your house is filthy. Self-employment is NOT the answer to staying at home and earning an income. Unless you have extra household money to invest every month to keep you afloat and purchase supplies while you’re waiting to be paid for a commission, you’ll be working at a deficit.

There is also the issue of taxes. Etsy collects sales taxes on your behalf, but they don’t collect your federal income taxes or state income taxes, if you live in a state like California. Working under the table is a risky endeavor! Do you really want to risk being audited for income you didn’t report? My advice: Just don’t do it!! It’s not worth the risk. So, be prepared to hire a tax specialist to do your taxes every year. You will need to keep good records of all your expenses and income. Every spool of thread, every yard of fabric needs to be accounted for in order for you to have a REAL picture of your profit and loss. The purchase of equipment will help, but there again, you need to be able to afford to pay the monthly payments on equipment loans.

In conclusion, there are more CONS than pros to self-employment and opening an on-line business, not just on Etsy. For me, I found Etsy to provide me more traffic in my store than a high-priced website. Unless you have a website manager that constantly monitors your Search Engine Optimization and other such tech stuff that is beyond my comprehension and skills, you won’t get enough traffic to your website to make the expense worthwhile. This is exactly why I switched my fancy-schmancy website to a “Pattern” website via Etsy. It allows me to keep my domain name, while using Etsy’s platform to funnel traffic through my page. I get about 10,000 hits per month in my Etsy store alone.

The bottom line is that Etsy has worked for me, but it may not be a platform that works for you. There are tons of variables – as I’ve addressed above.

So, before you jump into the pond, make sure you know the temperature and depth of the water! Trust me, you’ll thank me for being honest with you.

#Etsystore EtsySeller Costuming HistoricalCostume CostumeDesigner SelfEmployment Artist

30 notes · View notes

stormyreadingsxx · 4 years

Text

The WHO and the WHAT

Giving understanding your chart a chance:

Planetary Alignments

Taurus, Pisces.... Even knowing your sun is a Cancer and your rising in Aries is all good and well. But planets add a whole other layer over the way you may function in a sign (or a house but that’s for another post I guess). It’s easy to remember traits about zodiac signs (like fiery elements and the differences between cardinal and fixed) but do you know what sign a given planet is in? If it is in strength or at a weakness? These observations can turn a non-believer of astrology into an advocate.

My Venus is in Virgo (also my sun and moon sign and of course in fall or working against it’s placement) meaning for ME, finding someone who has the capacity to understand my love language or not take advantage of my mutable big three has been hard. I notice a trend of retreating inward without knowing it (when my emotional needs aren’t met), and others need to see and hear things to know... And there is the disconnect.

Mercury: ☿ The Messenger ~ The clear ruler of communication (and why the retrograde is so fantastically catastrophic, but more on that later), how we take in, let out, and process information is important. Your sun, moon, & rising should be taken into account separately from this. A sun in Scorpio may mean you’re mysterious, emotional (even if you hide it), and a bit brooding but a Mercury in Leo could mean you explain and express yourself with unexpected flair. Understanding this aspect in your chart can help you be a better listener, talker, or find out what kind of people you want to interact with in the long run.

*I used my Leo Mercury as an example. I go through introverted, critical, and anxious bouts as an overthinking earth sign, but I’ve always had a knack for telling stories and only recently have I discovered this connection. Using humor to cope is comforting to most people, I guess. lol

Venus: ♀︎ The Lover ~ I will admit to using Sailor Senshi to remember my planetary themes, but yes this one is known emphatically as The Lover. In addition to your sun, moon, and Mercury this can give you insight to how you love, your own love language, and how best someone might receive you. My Virgo Venus has doubled down on the earthy acts of service as mine. I’ve always wanted to make sure the people I love and care about are fed (finishing my food if I cannot) and their lives easier (tidying a room, folding laundry etc...). Somewhere along the way, this became easier than words.

That’s nice and all, but my criticalness and Mercury-ruled energy (A sharp Virgo way with words that can be weaponized and unfocused Gemini-ness that at best is spacey) it’s hard for me to get through to people at times. Understanding yours (or someone else’s) Venus is their approach to romance (so how much more emotionally intelligent do you feel understanding how you communicate and how you approach love ?).

Mars: ♂︎ The Warrior ~ If Venus is our feminine ~love~ energy, then Mars is obviously the opposite (at least in symbol). What grinds your gears? Turns thoughts and ideas into action? Mars is about expressing (our anger) and how we get what we desire. What is that cost?

Our drives and our passions.... Mine happens to be in Gemini. I love my ability to go with the flow and appeal to all sorts of people, professions, and hobbies. But this energy (even with my earthiness) is unfocused. Lots of thought and brain action (and typing at 3 am asfcgsd) but harnessing it is not always an easy thing for me. If we can be honest here, it never has.

I can be easily bored (although I will say I’m crushing boredom in quarantine for the most part) and my mercurial ass is actually exhausted and borderline in distress when I’m bored. My mind races and it becomes anxiety. Even hyper-vigilant criticisms of myself. I’ve turned to bottles, pills, and risky behavior to avoid it! Now that I see and understand this cloying longing to feel like I belong everywhere and the way chaos manifests in my space if I’m not well, I begin to understand and fix that.

I must find balance in the doing and the not doing but I can’t let my mind get bored. I’ve always been a fidgety person and talked with my hands (my massaged cat and friends can attest to both). And I often take on many projects and only the strong survive.... I used to not understand my Gemini rising but the more I talk, the more it make sense (since it is ruled by the Mercury communicator and the area of the hands).

Jupiter: ♃ The Sage ~ Now here’s something maybe everyone can get into. Luck. Jupiter has to do with a lot of luck in our charts, how we improve our lives and show generosity throughout it. For me, though my Jupiter comes in the same sign as my sun and moon (New Moon babies unite), its is actually at it’s detriment or not working as strongly as it could be (a trend I’m noticing with my Virgo placements lmfao).

Investigation will show that I’ve always been good at being persuasive and using warm graces to win someone over. That’s why from customer service to [REDACTED] (rhymes with.... h*x w*rk), I make a good front of house. My need to see a tangible result of progress (in video games, typing things like this out, or reorganizing all my things, creating art) can be attributed to this. For a day dreamer, I have a very grounded chart.

Saturn: ♄ The Taskmaster ~ Saturn, Saturn, Saturn.... Known of course by the infamous return, the one denoting when different clusters of generations ‘grow up’ (and I’m pretty sure I’m about due for AND going right through mine but I deleted co__star lmao), some associate with death. The end. Saturn is associated with restriction and limitation. Boundaries. This all sounds negative, but Saturn brings with it structure and meaning. A good relationship and understanding yields great things for life!

“Saturn is often associated with our fathers or father/authority figures. In childhood, the discipline, rules, and regulations imposed on us by our authority figures–from parents, teachers, and the like–were not always pleasant, but they actually helped us to understand the world around us. Similarly, Saturn’s lessons actually help us to grow.”

Ouch.

I will try to let this speak for itself and not project TOO much of my own chart as if you care, but I’ve only recently seen so deeply into what makes up who I am astrologically. I’ve always had a bit of a struggle with boundaries. Initiating them. Holding my space and comfort over others.

I was born during a New Moon and at LEAST one retrograde.

Saturn.

I can condemn myself for that or I can keep going, deeper and see why and how going forward I don’t fall into the same pitfalls (or maybe give myself a little compassion seeing that others have struggled my struggle). It does kind of feel like the whole world is on it’s Saturn return right now, though.

Uranus: ⛢ The Revolutionary ~ My Uranus was also in retrograde during my birth. I do feel conflict at this time of riots, protests, and rampant and unrepentant police brutality. People who look just like me die in the streets, in police custody, somewhere in strange circumstances. Vulnerable to covid and staying to help my parents, my place isn't at protests even if it feels like my heart is. I do my part to speak my mind and perspective, donate and raise awareness. Support my allies on the lines in the ways I can.

I cannot lie and say the present doesn’t scare me. Or being tear-gassed, detained indefinitely, thrown in jail or court, or disappeared. All of it.

“Uranus is quite at home in the eighth house of resurrections. You are naturally open and support change. “Change is good,” is your constant motto. Re-inventing yourself from time to time sounds like a good idea to you. You couldn’t possibly have it otherwise. Life would be boring without change. Your style and pace of bringing about change though may leave others dazed and breathless. The style of change that you prefer can be destructive to those around you. Your good intentions are never at doubt though. It’s just that you are addicted to your ideas and you sometimes overlook human emotions. Your natural impatience with status quo drives you to move fast leaving the staid behind.”

Maybe I jump ahead getting to houses, but I wanted to switch it up. Though Uranus was essentially moving backwards when I was born (and that seems to not bode well), the house (which can speak to a best way to reach the potential of your placements) seems to have kept me from losing all discernment and ability to adapt.

On the topic of revolution among other things, I feel conflicted. Helpless. Futile. I’m finding my way through that, but it is almost awe-inspiring to see a struggle mapped out in the charts while I go through it.

Neptune: ♆ The Dreamer ~ Didn’t I say earlier I’m a bit grounded for a daydreamer? A lot of my daydreams (and borderline escapism lol) are rooted and threaded in reality (especially since covid and damn near martial law have changed everyone’s perceptions of such). I have some far out dreams, but the content in my head could be shockingly close to reality sometimes. I love playing Animal Crossing and other general life simulations and always have.

Your vision of an ideal world may center around respect for rules, order, responsibility, and morality. You need to believe in the realizability of your dreams, and this means that your fantasies usually have a very realistic thread to them. There is a conservative, possibly somewhat cynical element to your nature. Because general optimism/faith does not typically carry or motivate you, energy levels may not be high when you don’t believe in what you’re doing, and inspiration is not easy to find in the first place. However, you can turn a dream into reality more easily than most. Your vision is practical but also doable.

I really am this optimistic-pragmatic-realistic but hardworking ???? person. My Neptune was also in retrogrograde during my birth. It has not hindered my creativity but even that is met with rigid expectations and an expected method for madness. I could stand to be dreamier and I work to inspire a calming, soothing, dreamy atmosphere (essential oils, Virgo 4th house things). But this may be why I always have my brain never too far in the clouds. Not without stimuli.

Pluto: ♇ The Transformer ~ Ah, Pluto is the Ruler of Scorpio. A deep cut in my chart but I have always had a bad habit of falling deep, deep into the well of a watery Scorpio even though I should know better. Renew and Rebirth hits my experience with them on the head. At it’s worst, these planetary placements can promote a hedonistic greediness. ‘Everyone is bad so I must be too’ and a real commitment to harming those before you can get smited (because we’ve all been smited).

I don’t have a lot of water in my chart personally, but this can help account for my intensity in search of connections (and why unlike a lot of my peers I pull away for long periods and go all in again, almost cyclical in a place where everyone’s always booed up).

Pluto in Scorpio may try to remain positive so strongly that they find themselves in denial, finding out when it is too late about all that was happening right under their noses.

Bingo.

Being strong and able to deal comes with a certain detachedness, a wall others cannot or will not try to breach. Understanding this will help me bring some of it down, right?

Are you interested in hunting down your birth time now? Try paring some of these tidbits or do your own planet research and pair it with the rest of your chart. You might start getting answers.

#Astrology #Astrology Chart #Zodiac #Planets #Planetary Zodiac #Natal Chart #Planetary Natal Chart #sensitive #readings

4 notes · View notes

literaryhedgehog · 5 years

Text

So I was inspired recently by the amazing @katsens-writing to write a Good Omens piece. I started it at the end of November but decided I would release it today (A bit unedited maybe) as a New Years' present. Happy 2020 everyone.

This could be an AU, but I tried to write it within the context of the show. This is the first fanfic that I have actually completed, so please let me know what you think!

Aziraphale sat down expectantly at one of the tables, and ordered the local wine while he waited. It had only been a few weeks since he and Crowley had encountered each other again. What an amazing coincidence that they both had work in the same place this week! That hadn’t happened in over a century. He, of course, was rather looking forward to hearing about all that Crowley had been up to over the last century. They had meant to talk last week of course, but then the food arrived so promptly, and as they were finishing a messenger arrived requesting Aziraphale’s presence at the Library. (He decided to become a patron of it, he thought it was just wonderful that they were working to spread knowledge from around the world, even if mainly to the upper classes). Before he left he and Crowley had agreed to meet up again, at least one more time before either had to leave the city. Aziraphale knew a lovely place for drinks down the road, and they agreed that at noon on Friday they both could meet and discuss the happenings of the last millenia.

His wine arrived at his table as he was glancing up at the sun again. They hadn’t settled on a specific time to meet of course, just planned to eat a light repast for a mid-day meal. Aziraphale hated to be late, so he had arrived as the sun rose high in the sky. “there’s no reason to be concerned” he told himself, sipping the wine as he turned intentionally away from the sky. “He is likely very busy. Slithering about causing mischief somewhere no doubt.”

His glass was almost empty when he checked the sun for a fourth time. So consumed in looking up – surely two hours hadn’t passed already – that he initially didn’t notice the child approach and stand next to the table.

“Judge Aziraphale?”

He straightened, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“ I’ve got sent with a message for you. Mr. Crowley says sorry, a things came up and he can’t come today.”

He couldn’t come. Aziraphale told himself that the feeling in his stomach was just for want of food, he was just fine eating alone. It was no matter, really. He had looked forward to hearing stories about other parts of the world, but that was all. It was the stories, not the teller that was important. Eating lunch with Crowley was no different than eating with anyone else, Gab—well perhaps not Gabriel, but he was sure given enough time he could think of several beings he would equally enjoy eating lunch with. Five, at least.

“Well that’s perfectly all right. Lunch between two good friends can happen any day of the week can’t it?” He smiled at the boy, trying to give off the air of nonchalance and paternal affection – children liked that didn’t they? “It was so very good of you to carry that message for us! Did Mr. Crowley make sure you were paid for your time?”

“O’Course!” That seemed to be the wrong thing to ask, the child looked offended. “ Mr. Crowley isn’t the kind who expects you to kiss his sandals for none but the blessings of the gods.”

“How silly of me, I should have expected it.” Crowley always did have an affection for children, though it would take more effort than it was worth to get him to admit it. He had a way with them that Aziraphale never quite managed. He was never quite sure how to talk with them, logical conversations never quite held their interest and he was terrible at their small talk. He had tried saying the things he usually heard from adults – you have grown so tall, what an interesting toy you have, and the like – but he assumed his statements must lack some genuinely because no child ever seemed to like him. It might have hurt his pride, but Aziraphale had long decided that he could serve the great plan just fine by solely interacting with adults. “Is that all you needed from me?”

“Yessir” Aziraphale finished his wine as the child left. He still had some time left in the afternoon to fit in a good work or two. Perhaps he could even get some food on the way. There was this vendor near the forum that always had the most lovely tarts…

…

It wasn’t quite two days later when Aziraphale had a bit of an incident with a robber. It was a rather minor event really – the man was looking for some money, and he cut Aziraphale with his knife before he realized that it was unnecessary. He did apologize after the two had a nice heart to heart about his long-forgotten dream to become an artist, but Aziraphale turned down his offer to fetch a healer. He had little confidence in the healers on this side of the city, and truth be told he was fairly confident that for a small injury like this his body would heal faster than could be easily explained. No, far better to return to his home and rest. That was all he needed. For now, he could do well enough just wrapping the area tightly with cloth and walking home.

It was a few blocks later when he started to feel a little odd. His eyesight did the strangest thing where little golden dots crept in from the outside of his vision, and he started feeling dizzy.

“It must be the blood loss,” he told himself, leaning against a cart and ordering himself a drink, any drink they could get quickly. “Or perhaps some shock. Nothing a little water can’t solve until I can make it home. I’ll just have to breathe more deeply until then.” He took a sip of whatever they handed him, barely tasting it as he realized his hand was shaking slightly. “It’s only a twenty-minute walk.”

He began again, walking up the hill towards his housing. He watched the ground as he walked, following the lines left behind by the carts. It wasn’t far. He could walk home, there was no need to stop.

As he was entering the temple district his vision began to cloud again, this time accompanied by a ringing in his ears. He found one of the pillars of the nearby temple and sat down, leaning against it for support. It was the sort of place normally occupied by the pour and injured, who had to live off the generosity of others. Luckily no one was at this particular pillar today, so he would just sit until his sight had returned to normal. Nothing to it.

When Aziraphale stood up a few moments later, he realized very quickly that this blood loss might be a bigger problem than he had anticipated. He was beginning to feel faint when he heard a familiar voice a few steps later.

“For a minute there, Angel, I thought you were sitting on the street planning to become a beggar.”

It was at that moment that the gold sparks had begun to close over Aziraphale’s eyes again, and he knew rather than saw himself reach out and grab Crowley’s arm for support. Or perhaps he grabbed his hand. He wasn’t quite sure. He thought he heard himself saying something like “Hello. I am currently trying to avoid fainting. Just a bit of blood loss, you know.” But at that moment his ears were ringing and his memory was hazy until the point where his vision and hearing cleared slightly to find his hand gripped in Crowley’s, arm resting on his, and Crowley saying “I think there should be somewhere to lie down in here.”

“Excuse me, my friend here’s taken a bit ill, you wouldn’t mind if he used one of your couches to die down for a bit?”

“Yes of course.” A fluttery female voice answered. “Right over here. What do you think is wrong? We have a healer on site, though not nearly as fine as I’m sure refined gentlemen such as yourselves are used to.”

“That would be lovely” Crowley answered, just as Aziraphale found the voice to say “Oh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

“What?” Crowley looked down at him, shock on his face. “Angel, you said you were about to faint from blood loss.”

“From mild blood loss.” Aziraphale sat on the sofa and leaned back, suddenly feeling the need to have his head back. “ I was lightly stabbed-“

“-STABBED-”

“-LIGHTLY stabbed. It was a slight misunderstanding, but it’s all right now. The gentleman realized that his skills are much more suited for the painting of statues – if its not refreshed it fades to the white of the marble you know – and I thought I would feel perfectly better with a little bit of rest.” He opened his eyes to find Crowley staring at him. The demon seemed at a loss for words, almost frustrated as he stared at Aziraphale.

“Right, you’re seeing our healer,” the female voice said. Aziraphale turned to see the speaker clearly for the first time. She had long brown hair left lose and flowing over her shoulders, which somewhat covered what her sheer dress was clearly not designed to. “Don’t worry though” she said, as another woman smelling faintly of herbs carried a small bag from the adjoining room and sat down on a cushion next to the sofa, “sewing cuts is one of her specialties.”

“Oh, how lucky you are to have a medical professional on your own premises! Is that common around here?”

“One of us had to learn,” the girl he supposed was the healer said, as she leaned over him, pulling his robe around so she could see the wound. Her hair, unlike that of her compatriot’s, was bound, and she barely glanced at his face as she sat up to stick a knife near the fireplace and thread a needle. “Girls need babes delivered, or a customer gets violent when he doesn’t feel satisfied with his service.” She turned to see the shock on his face, and smiled. A thin thing, slight enough that with very little effort it could be turned into a scowl. “ Doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it pays to have someone with even basic midwifing skills around. For anything complicated we run for my teacher. Now this will hurt, so I’ll thank you not to cut my hand off.”

“All right.” Aziraphale had no intention of cutting her hand off, deciding just to ignore what she was doing. If he didn’t think about it, all he felt was a light tugging sensation. He opted to scan the room, now that his eyesight had recovered and his head felt light enough again to notice his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that Crowley, who was now standing staring into the fire, had draped his cloak over Aziraphale’s legs. Then he saw that though the sitting room he was currently in was empty, he was being watched by numerous women, who were peering through the entrance of what looked to be a hallway. A few were wearing thin silk similar to the woman who had ushered them in, while others appeared to be wearing bright togas, or less. Aziraphale looked away quickly. “I do hope I didn’t disrupt anything. I would hate to be a bother.”

“Its fine,” a new voice came from the doorway, “we hardly have business at this time of day. In a couple hours though, you should probably be gone. I doubt you’ll have the stamina to keep up with our usual crowd.”

Aziraphale smiled briefly, but otherwise chose to ignore the snickers that came with that comment, and those from other women following it. He instead looked at the woman sitting in front of him, who had now taken her knife back from in front of the fire and was using it to cut and singe the ends of her thread. “Is that it then?”

“Just about.” She sat back and adjusted her toga, then began to repack her bag with the thread and needle, and other herb mixtures he hadn’t noticed her smear around the area. “You were lucky. It was only a small wound, and it had slowed bleeding enough that I could sew it up instead of cauterizing it.” He heard noises from the other girls then, sounds of disgust, and comments like “the smell takes forever to leave.” Crowley looked over at them, and they quickly grew silent.

“May I leave then?”

“I think you should lay there for a few more minutes, and hire a cart to carry you home, if you can afford it. I would definitely avoid going on any stairs for a while at least.” She stood up, and Crowley crossed the room to shake hands with her. He thought he might have seen the glimmer of coin pass between them. She turned to look at him once more before leaving the room, “I do hope you feel better soon.”

Crowley came and sat down by his feet. He had gotten a cup of wine somewhere and was sipping it slowly as he stared at the fire. Aziraphale cleared his throat, “so any interesting assignments lately?”

Crowley turned to look at him. “Really, Angel? That’s what you want to talk about? Not the fact that you were, as you said, ‘lightly stabbed’?”

“Not particularly.” They were silent for a few minutes. “I was just curious what came up the other day. I haven’t seen any major catastrophes around, so I thought you might have left the city.”

“Oh, that. No, it was nothing really. Just some demon drama. Nothing major, just some reports to sort out and all.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale went silent for a minute, looking at the demon’s profile. “Crowley, I-“

“There’s a cart here for you” a young boy ran in the door. He had to be 8 or 9, though Aziraphale reminded himself that he really had no idea how children aged. He had the nose of the first woman they had met. “He said he could take you anywhere you needed to go.”

“Oh. All right. Thank you very much.” With Crowley’s help he stood up and made his way towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Crowley flip the child a coin. Slithering softie.

Crowley helped him onto the cart and stood back. “Well, I’ll see you around Angel.”

“Oh, er, yes. Goodbye, Crowley. He gave the driver his address, then watched Crowley turn and disappear down a side street.

The next time they saw each other, a few months or millennia later, Crowley said that it was “good to see you well.” But that was all the mention they ever made of it. Aziraphale supposed that, to Crowley, it wasn’t anything to fuss over. Just an incident in their acquaintanceship, nothing more. And if it didn’t mean anything to him, then Aziraphale surely wasn’t going to bring it up. The fact that, in what might have been the most helpless moment of his existence, he felt instantly safe once he heard Crowley’s voice was irrelevant. Nor was the fact that he didn’t remember grabbing Crowley’s hand, they just naturally connected. Nothing worth fretting over, so he wasn’t going to mention it. Thanking him would only embarrass the demon.

And so, neither of them ever mentioned it again. Aziraphale certainly never thought about the feeling of Crowley’s hand when they were sitting next to each other on park benches feeding ducks. And why would Crowley ever feel the need to tense up when he saw Aziraphale within 100 meters of a sharp, malicious blade? That would be ridiculous, beyond suggestion. This incident meant nothing to either of them, so neither would ever admit thinking about it briefly every time they saw each other for the next few thousand years.

#my writing #good omens fanfiction #Ancient Roman setting #feedback is welcome #Happy New Year

7 notes · View notes

gotham-ruaidh · 5 years

Text

Truth to Triumph

Previously…

Chapter 7: The Invitation

August 25, 1904

Article published in the New-York Daily Tribune on Sunday, August 28, 1904. Captain Van Schaick was at the helm when the Slocum burned. Bellevue is world-renowned for its mental illness ward. This small story, of a man literally gone mad with grief, humanizes this tragedy. And is emblematic of just how deeply this disaster scarred the city.

In early August, Mr. Pulitzer gave Jamie a hearty raise.

Jamie thanked him by donating it to the World’s Slocum widows and orphans fund.

In turn, the German community thanked him – for the fair, honest depiction of their community he had shared with the world, and for his own personal generosity – by declaring they would host a dinner in his honor, at one of the beer gardens on the Bowery.

This invitation was the prime topic of conversation the next time he dined with Claire, the Beauchamps, and Henry – who brimmed with joy at being invited to sit with the grown-ups. True to his word, Jamie had breathed not a word of Henry’s existence to anyone. He had continued to call on Claire – and she had surprised him with a few unannounced appearances at his office – all the while remaining respectful of her boundaries.

He’d invited her to dinner at his cramped rooms on Stanton Street; she insisted on buying groceries from several Italian pushcart vendors along the way, and together they cooked a simple yet delicious meal. Swapping stories about growing up in the city – the crowded public school he had attended in Chelsea, punctuated by occasional ferry trips across the Hudson to visit his mother’s brothers in Newark; playing hide-and-seek with her funny Uncle Lamb in the basement of her grandfather’s department store, and sneaking into dusty libraries to find a respite from yet another boring social occasion.

Learning each other.

Jamie had continued to impress all three adult Beauchamps with the way he partnered with Claire to shine a light on stories that the public may otherwise ignore or overlook – lending her work the credence it deserved.

“I’ve been to a few dinners at these beer gardens,” the elder Henry shared, tucking in to the cool asparagus salad that Claire had helped the cook, Mrs. Crook, prepare. “They’re outside – or if they’re inside, the ceiling is made of glass panes that can be opened to let in the air. Entire families will come, squashed side-by-side onto picnic tables.”

“Is it safe to presume that plenty of beer is served?” Julia smiled from behind her napkin.

“It is, dear wife,” Henry replied. “Along with a good deal of other food – sausages, sauerkraut, potatoes. All very good, if a bit monochromatic in appearance.”

“What’s mono-chromatic?” Young Henry speared an asparagus on his fork and wobbled it a bit over his plate.

“‘Mono’ means ‘one,’ lovie, and ‘chromatic’ means ‘color.’ Anyway, Papa, It’s remarkable how the Germans do everything together – how they bring entire families to an event.” Claire gently pushed her son’s elbows off the table. “That’s why so many families were on the Slocum to begin with – they don’t like separating the men from the women, the women from the children.”

“In that respect, they’re not so different from many of the other immigrant groups in New York,” Jamie reflected. “The Jews, the Italians, the Syrians, even the Chinese – everything becomes a family affair. They live together, work together – and have fun together. It only seems that the Americans – or to be specific, the Knickerbockers – don’t have this same custom.”

“That’s because they can choose to pack away the children with the staff – and because the men are too idiotic to want to spend time with their wives,” Henry huffed. “Not for me to share now – with the little pitchers at the table. But Julia knows full well, the number of times I’ve had to turn down certain…invitations.”

Claire raised an eyebrow at her father, then turned to look at her son – blissfully unaware as he munched on a cold chicken leg.

“Still.” Jamie sipped his whisky. “I’m honored to be invited. Truly.”

“You’ve done so much good, Jamie. Honorable good.” Henry raised his own glass of whisky in a toast. “And I’m pleased it’s being recognized.”

“By the people whose opinion matter most,” Claire added, clinking her own glass of whisky against Jamie’s.

He looked into her eyes. Knew that she wasn’t just referring to the Kleindeutschlanders.

Later, after the dessert plates were cleared, Jamie refused the elder Henry’s offer of a nightcap and welcomed the younger Henry’s enthusiastic good-night hug, before retreating alone to the parlor that overlooked East Twenty-Second Street. As was their custom after dinner, Jamie waited as Claire put her son to bed – sometimes reading from one of the storybooks Jamie had so thoughtfully given Henry for his fifth birthday – before they shared a quiet hour or two in the parlor. Alone. Getting to know one another.

Always on Claire’s terms.

Sometimes they talked about her work – a challenging patient she had treated; a new doctor who had doubted her abilities; a recent scientific breakthrough she had learned about in one of the journals she subscribed to.

Sometimes they talked about his work – how he had had to fight his editors to use true and honest language and avoid sensationalism in his Unsung series; salacious stories that the newspaper had trumpeted – or ignored – based on Mr. Pulitzer’s whims and relationships; the faces and stories of everyday New Yorkers he had met in the course of his travels around the city.

Sometimes they talked about their families – her, of happy childhood memories growing up in this house, or traveling with her beloved Uncle Lamb as he lectured about anthropology in various colleges across the Northeast; him, of the foods his mother had cooked in their tenement on West Thirteenth Street, and the happy life his sister and brother-in-law led on the farm in Nova Scotia he had heard so much about but never visited himself.

Usually they sat side-by-side on the settee, facing each other, both nursing a glass of brandy. He never drank very much in her presence – knowing how gravely she had suffered at the hands of a drunk man. And he never touched her – never even took her hand – without her touching him first.

Silently signaling how much he respected her.

Aching for more with her – this woman whose strength inspired him, whose grace astounded him, whose beauty haunted his days and his dreams.

How deeply he wanted everything with her – to have her at his side, as his wife and partner and confidante. To provide for Henry – to be a father to him, to give him his name, to guide him as he grew. To give Henry sisters and brothers to play with.

The settee shifted beside him – and she was there. Smiling. So beautiful and radiant.

She held out her hands – and immediately he took them within his own. Caressing. Eyes intent on hers.

“Is he asleep?”

She nodded. “He so loves the book of Mother Goose rhymes you bought him. He can read them on his own now. So he insisted on reading to me tonight.”

He returned her smile. “He’s a smart boy.”

“He is.” She glanced down at their hands. How his fingers so perfectly twined with hers, thumbs gently stroking the pulses and tendons on the inside of her wrists.

“Will you come with me to the dinner, Claire?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “The one at the beer garden?”

He nodded. “I would like nothing more than for you to be at my side. I wouldn’t be there – wouldn’t have been able to meet such wonderful people, or to have had such an impact – had it not been for you.” He swallowed. “But for you to do that, would mean that we – we would be seen together in public. As a couple.”

She didn’t speak, silently squeezing his hands.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m – I’m ashamed of you in any way, or that I don’t want to be seen with you. It would make me so proud, to have you there – to introduce you as the most important woman in my life. But Claire – Claire, I don’t know if you want that.”

“Of course I want that,” she replied, incredulous.

“But are you ready for that? To be in the papers again, potentially? I know you didn’t care for it very much the last time it happened – and now that my name is becoming more well-known…it may be a topic of interest to some people.”

She pursed her lips. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes creased in the lamplight. “I understand that – and I accept it. I can’t hide from it forever, Jamie. I’m ready for it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

She shifted closer to him. “Because you came to me through what I can do. Not because of my family. Or my looks. Or our money, our house. The influence we have. You came to me because of something terrible, which allowed me to express how skilled I am. Because of what I can do. Because of what I have worked so hard to demonstrate.”

She paused, considering her words very carefully.

“Jamie – other people see those things first. You don’t. You see me for who I want to be – for how I want to be seen. Purely because of me. Do you know you’re the only person – except for my son, perhaps – who has ever done that for me?”

Now the words flooded in a torrent. “You make me stronger – more confident. You don’t owe me anything, and yet you support me anyway. So I know that your support – your faith in me – is genuine. And you demonstrate that faith by allowing me to help you find people whose stories need to be told – and then by telling them honestly. Earning their trust and respect. My trust and respect.”

She dropped his left hand. Reached to cradle his cheek for the first time. Overcome, he brought her left hand to his thrumming heart – and closed his eyes, nuzzling her palm.

“You one said that you wanted to know me. Do you remember?”

He nodded.

She swallowed. “I think I’ve come to know you well, Jamie Fraser. Would you say the same about me?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“So of course I’ll accompany you. To the beer garden, and anywhere else you go.”

His eyes opened, and joyfully he kissed her palm.

“Always?” he whispered, so hopeful.

“Always,” she promised, bringing their joined hands to her own heart so that he could feel it racing.

“I – I…” he stammered. “I would very much like to kiss you, Claire. May I?”

Forever she remembered that moment, when the world seemed to stand still, and she lost all sense of her surroundings – save for Jamie’s eager face, and his burning eyes, and his soft, soft touch on her wrist.

“Yes,” she breathed. And the world exploded with color.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #truth to triumph #jamie and claire

196 notes · View notes