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lalikaa · 4 years ago

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“Gravitate”

A fic I wrote for the @yamakagezine years ago and forgot to post, whoops haha. Hope you enjoy!!

~*~

It was a crisp Sunday in March; the kind of day where you’re not sure whether you need a coat or not. The sakura trees had yet to bloom, and the frost of February still lingered. This was one of Tadashi’s favorite times of the year; he liked the chill before everything bloomed.

However, Tadashi was not enjoying the cool weather at the moment, as he was currently inside, piling bread onto a plastic tray.

“It feels like just yesterday we were nervous about our first practice match against Seijou, and here we are,” Tadashi began to lament.

“...We’re in a cafe, Tadashi.”

“You know what I mean!” Tadashi said with a huff. He was almost tempted to say his boyfriend was being snarky, but in reality, it was just Tobio being… Tobio.

When Tobio titled his head to the side slightly in a way that made it look like a giant question mark was floating over his head, Tadashi could not find it in himself to be exasperated.

“Y’know, as in we’re here as third years, about ready to graduate and move on with our lives, that kinda thing.”

The giant question mark dissipated over Tobio’s head (quite a feat, since it was invisible to begin with), but was quickly replaced by an equally invisible exclamation mark.

“I was never nervous about the match against Oik- Seijou,” Tobio retorted to Tadashi’s previous remark.

“Well, you’re never nervous about anything.”

Tobio didn’t respond to this, as they got to the cashier. Tadashi set a chocolate cornet and a red bean roll, which he had gotten for himself, and Tobio’s melon bread and taro bun on the counter while Tobio ordered their usual drinks; a hazelnut latte for Tadashi and a matcha latte for himself.

They scoped out their usual table by the second window to the right, and once they sat down Tobio said; “Well, some things make me nervous.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like… passing tests, not being able to play volleyball, possibilities of injuries… askingyouout.” The last few words were mumbled, but Tadashi caught them anyway,

“Awww, really? Asking me out made you nervous? But you didn’t even-”

“I know I didn’t! Because I was nervous!”

“There was no way you were more nervous than I was! Wait, then is that why Shouyou-”

“Yeah,” Tobio interjected. “Because I couldn’t do it.”

“That-- this makes more sense now. Though, y’know, it’s not like I could’ve either.”

Tadashi unwrapped his cornet and took a bite, now thinking back to when their relationship had begun. If he were being honest, their relationship definitely had an unusual start.

Tadashi was pulled back to almost three years ago, when he’d first joined Karasuno’s volleyball team, to when he’d first met the briskly terrifying force of nature that was Kageyama Tobio.

~*~

Tadashi hadn’t been the only one blown away by Kageyama, but he felt like he was being affected more strongly. His heartbeat skittered whenever he was around him, something that he hadn’t experienced before. At first Tadashi was concerned that perhaps he was showing premature signs for cardiovascular disease, but when he confided this to Tsukki, he’d been met with a scoff and an eyeroll.

“This is why feelings are stupid,” Tsukki had said.

Whatever the hell he’d meant by that.

After a few weeks (and a few hours on WebMD), Tadashi came to the conclusion he wasn’t at risk of heart disease. He poured his anxiety into volleyball, and found relief in striving to be the best player he could be, drawing heavy inspiration from a certain setter.

With every successful jump serve he made, the thought that often crossed his mind was--

I hope he notices.

Months passed though, and Kageyama didn’t seem to pay any more attention to Tadashi than he did anyone else. Tadashi tried not to take it personally.

~*~

“He’s just so cool,” Tadashi said wistfully one day in autumn as he and Hinata sat on the steps outside the gym before practice. Tadashi was eating a convenience store onigiri and sipping apple juice while Hinata was bouncing a volleyball on his arms, focus sharp.

“Yeah, he is, you should ask him out,” Hinata replied, still bouncing the volleyball.

Tadashi promptly spat out his juice. “I can’t do that!”

“Why not? You’re just as cool!”

“I’m… I’m really not. Thanks, though,” Tadashi said sheepishly.

“Why do you think you’re not cool?” Hinata asked, catching the volleyball as he looked at Tadashi.

Tadashi couldn’t find the words to articulate that he felt like he was floating in space when he was around Kageyama; he was a scattered meteor, helpless to the gravitational pull of Planet Tobio.

...That sounded kind of odd, but still.

Tadashi sighed. There was no way he could tell Hinata all that, so instead he just said; “I don’t know.”

“Well, I think you’re cool! You work really hard, you know? Plus you’re super nice, even though people wouldn’t think that ‘cause you hang out with Tsukishima so much.”

Tadashi snickered. Hinata just said whatever was on his mind.

Maybe he should, too.

~*~

About a week after Shouyou had suggested that Yamaguchi should ask Kageyama out, he found none other than Kageyama by his side as they were cleaning up after practice. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had finished folding the nets early, leaving Hinata and Kageyama to sweep the floors. “I feel… weird,” Tobio started, which made Shouyou jump a little because Kageyama hardly ever initiated the conversation.

“You’re always weird, Bakayama-kun,” Shouyou replied.

When no volleyball came hurtling at his head in response, Shouyou knew something was wrong.

“I think I like someone as much as I like volleyball,” Kageyama muttered.

Shouyou stopped mid-sweep.

Kageyama? Talking about his feelings?

This had to be serious.

“So… who’s your someone?”

“No one,” Kageyama said, immediately backing out.

“It’s gotta be someone,” Shouyou insisted, trying not to bounce in excitement.

“Nevermind,” Kageyama grumbled.

“Is it me?” Shouyou teased. “Kageyama, please, I’m too dedicated to volleyball to be in a relationship.”

“It’s not you!” Kageyama snapped.

“Ouch,” Shouyou said, pretending to be hurt.

Then, it came to him.

“Is it Yamaguchi?”

“No,” Kageyama said too quickly, turning bright red.

Aha.

Now Shouyou just had to find the right time to ask.

~*~

The right time came a couple months later, after the intense training camp hosted at Shiratorizawa. Hinata and Yamaguchi were eating lunch together at Hinata’s desk while Tsukshima was listening to music in his and Yamaguchi’s classroom. Meanwhile, Yachi was tutoring Kageyama in her classroom.

“So how was the training camp, Hinata? Tsukki said it was lame and that you were annoying.”

“Ugh, not as annoying as he is! He put in such minimal effort, you wouldn’t believe-”

“I think I get the idea.” Yamaguchi laughed.

“Anyway! Are you free this Saturday afternoon after practice?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Awesome! You’re gonna go on a date with Kageyama at Aki Cafe in Sendai! I booked your train tickets already, you’re welcome!”

“Oh ok, thanks-- wait, WHAT.”

Shouyou grinned as Yamaguchi proceeded to panic, giving himself a mental pat on the back. Man, was he the most awesome friend, or what!

On the day of the date, Tadashi had to remind himself that ‘this is fine’ approximately 19 billion times.

But what if Kageyama didn’t actually like him? I mean, why would he? What the hell had Hinata been thinking?!

~*~

The train ride was as awkward as he’d expected, honestly. Kageyama wasn’t the most social of butterflies, but as soon as Tadashi brought up their latest practice match against Datekou, one thing led to another and soon they were talking about various ways they could demolish Datekou’s Iron Wall. Tadashi loved when Kageyama talked about volleyball; he was so passionate. Tadashi envied him a little, as he felt as though his passion for anything could never match Kageyama’s. It was just another aspect of him that drew Tadashi in.

Tobio was surprised at how easily he could talk to Yamaguchi. He was used to people not wanting to talk to him, ever, so this was an unusual, but appreciated, change of pace.

The train bumped along as they traveled towards their destination. Tobio didn’t have the faintest clue why Hinata had bought them both train tickets and given instructions on getting to a particular cafe, and he had definitely considered declining when Hinata brought it up… until Hinata mentioned that his travel partner would be Yamaguchi.

Partner was a word reserved for someone you could completely trust, and Kageyama hadn’t felt a true connection like that until he’d met Hinata. But then, how he felt about Hinata was vastly different from how he felt about Yamaguchi. While he wanted Hinata to spike his tosses, he wanted Yamaguchi to hold his hand... or something. It was weird.

They got lost on their way to the cafe Hinata had suggested. “We could just go to another one,” Tobio said as they took what was likely their eighth wrong turn.

“But Hinata went through all the trouble of finding one, so we should go!” Yamaguchi insisted.

Tobio shrugged. As long as he was home in time for his 8 o’clock run he was fine. It was only 1 o’clock now, so he should be good. He tried not to think about spending seven hours with Yamaguchi. Surely it wouldn’t be that long…? If it was, Tobio was in trouble. He might get the urge to do something drastically romantic, like pat Yamaguchi on the shoulder.

Tobio snapped out of his thoughts when Yamaguchi said suddenly; “Oh, here it is!”

Aki Cafe was a small building, nestled between a hair salon and an ice cream parlor. The two walked in and were greeted by the smell of cinnamon, vanilla, coffee, and at least nine other different scents. They studied the menu together in silence, then picked up their bread and made their order; they each got savory crepes.

As they waited on their food at a table by the second window to the right, they fell into awkward silence. The waitress brought them a pitcher of water and glasses, which was a welcome distraction. They both then sipped their water, with Tobio doing his best not to stare too much. He’d never realized how many freckles Yamaguchi had. They were kind of cool. Tobio began to wonder how many there were and oh god what was wrong with him?

Thankfully, Yamaguchi broke the silence by bringing up a homework assignment that he’d recently struggled on, and they came to an agreement that math was indeed the Worst, and should be banned from school. The waitress came with their crepes. They thanked her, and began to eat.

~*~

Think of something else to say, think of something else to say oh my god why are you so awkward this is why no one really ever wants to hang out with you, you don’t deserve-

“You’ve- you’ve gotten really good at jump float serves,” Kageyama said abruptly.

Tadashi tried not to gape at him. Kageyama, the king of serves, was complimenting him on his serves!? No way.

“Uh, thank you,” Tadashi said. He was still pretty bad at taking compliments. “You’re really amazing at serves too!”

Kageyama seemed to be just as bad at taking compliments, but not in an awkward way like Tadashi—more in a blunt, yet endearing sort of way. “I still have a lot to improve on,” he said seriously.

“Me too,” Tadashi said. “Maybe you could- maybe you could help me practice sometime?” He winced, fully expecting Kageyama to decline. “Yeah, sure,” Kageyama said.

Tadashi suddenly felt overwhelmed. Because extra practice with Kageyama obviously meant spending more time with him, which meant that Tadashi’s life would become far more complicated. He wasn’t sure how much his heart - and his nerves - could take.

“I’d really like that!” Tadashi responded, a little too loudly. “Me, too,” Kageyama said, giving a rare smile.

To Tadashi, it felt special, somehow. Kageyama was smiling because of him, and only to him- it felt intimate in a way. Tadashi grinned back, feeling his heartstrings loosen and his nerves settle down. Maybe he could handle more time with Kageyama after all.

~*~

After they finished their crepes, Tobio suggested getting ice cream at the parlor next door. He was still hungry, and anything milk-based was always a good thing. The parlor was really cool—various pictures hung on the walls, and the shiny tiled floor made it look like the shop was brand new. The counter had a large display of at least 30 flavors of ice cream on display behind clear glass. The signs above the counter showed that the parlor also served soft serve, sundaes, and milkshakes. The friendly worker greeted them, and after some deliberation, both boys decided on milkshakes- chocolate for Tobio, strawberry for Yamaguchi.

They found a table near the corner of the parlor, milkshakes in hand. As they sipped their milkshakes, Tobio couldn’t help but think; God, he’s pretty.

Was “pretty” the right word, though? Maybe it should be handsome. Either way, Tobio wanted to look at Yamaguchi more than he looked at a volleyball.

Something was really wrong with him.

Yamaguchi was cool in a lot of ways, so maybe his line of thinking was acceptable then…? In all honesty, Tobio had no clue. He was already subpar at best with friendships, never mind actual romantic relationships.

He hadn’t even considered being in a relationship like that until, well… when had he considered it first? Maybe when Yamaguchi made his first successful jump float serve in practice?

He didn’t know for sure, but he was certainly happy to be where he was now. Yamaguchi looked a little anxious, but Tobio couldn’t be sure. He gave a small, nervous smile, in hopes it would… do something. Maybe he was reading the situation wrong…?

When Yamaguchi smiled back, though, he felt his heartbeat quicken, like he’d just run several sprints. Tobio wasn’t sure if he would get used to this feeling, but his instincts told him it was a feeling that would last.

~*~

Tobio and Tadashi finished their bread at Aki Cafe, a sense of nostalgia still hovering between them. Tadashi thought maybe they were too young to feel nostalgic about a relationship that was only a little over two years, but the pull he felt on his heartstrings and the maybe-maybe-not tear in his eye felt differently. Tadashi tried to think of something to say as they started walking out of the cafe. This time, though, it was Tobio who initiated their conversation.

“It’ll be… hard not seeing you every day,” Tobio admitted.

“Nothing is ever hard for you, Tobio,” Tadashi assured him.

“Except for not seeing you every day.”

Tadashi really loved how straightforward Tobio was. He never left Tadashi guessing; he was always honest.

The sun started setting as they meandered along the sidewalks of Sendai, glowing red-orange in the cloudless sky.

“I promise to come to all of your matches,” Tadashi said as they turned a street corner.

“I’d rather you promise to play.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’ll see you on the court, then,” Tobio said firmly.

It was comforting how much Tobio believed in him. So, Tadashi responded by laughing as he took Tobio’s hand, the two walking side by side, with no real destination in mind in the two hours they had before their train home. It really didn’t matter where they went though; they would always gravitate back to each other in the end.

#yamaguchi tadashi #kageyama tobio #yamakage #haikyuu!!#lali writes

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bugmomwrites · 5 years ago

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Astragalus Tea & Soft Company (Juzo Honenuki x Reader)

Astragalus flower meaning: You soften my pain

Thank you for 100 followers and counting!

FUN FACT: This was actually for the Bnharem server collab, and the prompt was Flowers. I was hella late for this one due to things that popped up BUT my friend’s awesome stories are linked below, so check them out too!

https://jojosmilktea.tumblr.com/post/618831496637300737/this-is-a-sfw-choose-your-own-collaboration-by-the

I ended up whipping something together like a day before the deadline and almost having it done- and then I forgot my family came up to visit. My state has eased up guidelines a bit, and since I haven't seen them since my grandma’s funeral at the end of last year, I wanted to spend some time with them before they go home. As a result I kind of didn't have the time to polish it and post on schedule. Better late than never? Anyway here's some food for you Honenuki stans cause my boi needs more love. Takes place in their third and final year- their long history of friendship is important and comes up.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Language, vomit (brief scene), nudity (nothing happens but still)

After sharing classes for God knows how long, Juzo Honenuki could confidently say he knew just about all of your little idiosyncrasies and habits. You were one of his closest friends after all, even having gone to the same middle school. You both got in on recommendation, and the two of you were now in your third year of UA. He knew you liked to watch older memes from years ago, still quoting Vines as far back as 2013. He knew you’d flap your hands a bit whenever you got excited or nervous. Lastly, he knew you well enough to know you didn’t just get sick out of nowhere- it had to be a result of your poor sleeping habits as of late, ultimately catching up to you and taking a toll on your well being.

The other night he could hear you shuffling in your room across the hall until about 4:30 in the morning, and upon seeing your current state he mentally kicked himself for not nipping it in the bud weeks ago.

How you managed to retain the energy to function in class every day was a mystery in and of itself, but you for one thought you were doing an awesome job at balancing late night productivity with biological needs. Honenuki just so happened to live in the dorm room right across from you, often bearing witness to your bizarre nightly routines first hand. It never bothered him too much; he knew academics were tough and sometimes people needed a bit more time to study or indulge in their hobbies. So for a while, he thought nothing of the shuffling noises, or the light coming from under the crack of your door at some unholy hour. If he held his breath he could even make out some soft curse words uttered by you among other various sounds.

He knew you were up to something, but as much as he wanted to check in on you, there was a strictly enforced curfew, and it wouldn’t look too good if someone caught him sneaking in and out of his friend’s room in the middle of the night; nevermind that you were a girl. He resorted to just shooting a quick text, hoping you’d take a hint and maybe get some shut eye. His phone pinged not a minute later, and he shook his head in disappointment at the notification.

Read: 3:36am

By week two he began to notice you lagging behind in sparring, and even stopped to ask you about it- something that took you a bit by surprise considering his normally competitive streak- but you had dodged the question completely, dismissing his concerns and attempting to get back to the match at hand. He didn’t want to press, but if you said you were fine- so be it, he wasn’t one to hold back. He trained with you for about twenty or so more minutes before he noticed your reaction time slowing down exponentially, and even swaying side to side towards the end. You hunched over and rubbed your temples in pain, and in a moment he found himself cradling your head towards him, even softening the gym floor a bit in case you teetered off to the ground. He could see the bags under your eyes, so after scooping you up completely, he went off to Recovery Girl.

Said nurse confirmed that your tiredness was, in fact, a result of the all nighters Honenuki would catch you pulling multiple times per week.

“You should listen to your boyfriend! He only wants you to be healthy,” said Shuzenji.

Of course you only heard bits and pieces, already dozing off on the cot. He cleared his throat, teeth clacking when your head fell onto his shoulder. If he was already tense before, he was a full-blown statue by now, and the poor boy prayed he didn’t look like a tomato. He went to correct the nurse, talking carefully so as not to disturb you.

“We’re actually just friends, ma’am. I just happened to know about it because my dorm is right across from hers, and I can see when the lights are on under the d-” She cut him off, whacking him in the shin with her cane.

You tumbled onto the cot, somehow managing not to wake up from the impact. Honenuki could only sit there slack jawed as the older woman continued her tirade.

“You’re still close to her! Don’t be afraid to nag a little bit. But hopefully this should be a lesson. I’ll write you a pass.” And so, Honenuki took one last glance to where you lay curled up and at peace for the first time in a while, and saved that memory to his brain when Shuzenji offered the scribbly post it note to the blushing boy. He nodded in thanks, and briskly made his way out.

“Please get some rest, I hate seeing you like this.”

~~~

Did you learn your lesson that day? Apparently not. He still told you now and then to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and as much as you appreciated the care from the boy you loved, his warnings fell on deaf ears. This pattern persisted for a while, where you’d wake up exhausted and have him lecture you, only for you to ignore his advice. Rinse and repeat. You knew he meant well, but after one particularly bad day you couldn’t help but snap at him. Honenuki still remembered it vividly, seeing most of it firsthand in your shared class:

Another Monday morning. You were tired, and that was an objective fact. You already knew it was your fault, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t just go to bed early one night and hope it would undo all the self-inflicted psychological damage. You had already formed a habit, and it was something that could only be fixed over a period of time, little by little.

That day was particularly rough- Vlad kicked off the morning by giving the whole class a pop quiz, which you were sure you bombed horribly. Afterwards, you weren’t alert enough during training, which gave Tsuburaba an opening to catch you off guard and knock you to the ground ass first. It was a short fight, and he wouldn’t stop bragging to his friends about his quick victory.

“That’s a victory royale, bitches! Three years of UA and I finally beat (l/n)!”

To add an insult to injury, he was doing Fortnite dances (in mid 2020, no less), while whooping and hollering. You wanted to be happy for him, maybe even congratulate him on a good fight, but he was too damn obnoxious and by that point you just wanted the class to be over. The bastard didn’t even help you up, so you could only glare at him from your place on the floor. On the way back from the USJ, you got stuck on the bus seat between Monoma and Kamakiri, the former screaming from his own seat behind you to pick a fight with the hotheaded boy two rows up.

“Listen man, I’m just saying, if I wanted a teammate with the same abilities and none of the death threats I got from you on a daily basis, I’d tape a couple of knives to a Roomba and let it loose on class A.”

Kamakiri, however, was having none of it, so the next time Monoma leaned over your backrest to yell in his ear he was greeted with a swift punch in the throat. It sent him tumbling backwards and he released your backrest, but not before Kamakiri’s quirk accidentally left a clean gash on your forehead as you tried to duck down from the crossfire.

The howling laughter and “oh shit! Monoma’s fucking dead you guys!” from Setsuna did nothing to ease your headache, and as much as you wanted to give the two boys a piece of your mind, you didn’t particularly have a death wish. So you opted to seethe quietly, applying pressure to the wound until you could patch yourself up at the clinic.

When you arrived, the nurse was on lunch break, so you had to haul ass all the way back to the Class B dorms in the rain, do a walk of shame through the common room where many of your peers congregated at that time, and pray that you could find some sort of first aid kit in the bathroom. As expected you were bombarded with questions, but you dismissed them quickly, making your way over to the ladies room.

One alcohol wipe and a few butterfly sutures later, you tried to sneak back to your room for some sort of respite from what ended up being a trainwreck of a morning. You were almost in the clear when you bumped into someone you really, really didn’t want to deal with. Juzo. Normally, you’d be relieved to see him, possibly even thrilled. Alas, you just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts, at least for the time being. But in a matter of seconds he was all over you, much to your chagrin- especially since you were already on the verge of tears.

“Are you okay? What happened? Maybe you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine, Juzo, it’s nothing. Just tired.” He frowned, having been here before one too many times with you. You looked like you would break down any second, and when that happened, he didn’t want you to feel alone. He loved you more than life itself, but if he couldn’t even be there to pick you up when you fell, what kind of friend would he be? Certainly not your best one, that was for sure. He figured he should tread carefully, knowing how much you hated crying in front of others. With a sigh he reached out, hesitantly running his thumb along the underside of your cut.

“Have you tried going to bed at a decent hour? I know I sound like a broken record, but-” Having enough, you slapped his hand away out of reflex, your teary (e/c) eyes now burning with rage at his words. Gentle, well-meaning words you’ve grown accustomed to hearing for the past few weeks being the final thing pushing you over the edge.

“I said I’m fine Honenuki! My sleep habits are my business, so why don’t you leave me alone. Don’t you have anything better to do?!” You did a full 180, lashing out and raising your voice loud enough it would traumatize even Present Mic. You were a ticking time bomb from the moment you woke up that day, and Honenuki was the poor soul that just happened to cut the wrong wire.

Honenuki visibly flinched at the use of his surname. Coming from anyone else, it was just a friendly acquaintance giving him a warm greeting, or making small talk. Coming from you, however, it felt...cold. Unfamiliar. You had been calling him Juzo since you both were fifteen, forging a camaraderie after the summer camp incident and growing closer ever since. He could only blink in shock at your outburst, unable to find anything to say as his mouth went dry. You stormed off, slamming the door to your room and shaking the floor beneath him, leaving him standing there with mixed signals and a heavy heart.

Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be paying the consequence, so he really shouldn’t have been so surprised when he got a message from you less than a week later. The news came to him just before he arrived to his first class of the day, and upon reading your text, he mentally facepalmed at your stupidity. Your bad sleeping choices- coupled with the freezing rain from that fateful day- had finally caught up to you, knocking you out with a nasty bug. It was the first time you had reached out to him since then, and even if he didn’t take anything too personally, it was a little odd for you to ignore him and follow up out of the blue without closure.

(Y/N) 8:30am: Can you please tell Vlad I can’t make it to class today? I feel like utter garbage. You'll never guess why ;-;

Juzo 8:33am: Ugh! I knew it! >HHHH<

(Y/N) 8:35am: In all fairness, maybe it’s just from the rain and not my piss poor bedtime routine...?

Juzo 8:36am: Stay put. I’ll be over after class.

(Y/N) 8:38am: Cool beans. Btw I already took some nasty ass cough medicine so please don’t make me take another dose for a few hours.

Juzo 8:39am: Fine. You better take it without any arguments when it’s time.

-and with that he clicked his phone off, waiting anxiously for the bell to ring. He took an extra set of notes for you, because you had insisted ‘that’s what friends do’, and he needed to keep his mind busy. The next class was English with Present Mic, and he thanked whatever deity out there that he was bilingual. Popping in and letting him know the circumstances wouldn’t cause any harm, and he was sure Mic would be willing to get another copy of the notes.

9:30am couldn’t arrive soon enough, but as soon as Vlad dismissed the class, Honenuki made a beeline for the English classroom. He was making great time, and was sure he’d be the first one there. At least until he found himself barreling into the back of a familiar leather coat. He almost got knocked back from the sheer force and he quickly apologized, bowing his head when a loud voice stopped him in amusement.

“Woah, slow down there speed racer! Just try to be careful next time”, Present Mic laughed, and Honenuki looked up in relief to find his teacher on his way to the same destination.

“Mic-sensei! Perfect timing, I actually wanted to ask a favor. You know (y/n), my best friend? She’s sick in bed right now, so I was wondering if I could get an extra copy of the notes to bring to her? I’d write them myself but my hand is a bit cramped from doing two sets last class.” His teeth clacked nervously, hoping that he didn’t seem too desperate, especially since it could be misconstrued as something more.

Mic raised an eyebrow, and hummed in thought briefly. “Ah, young love. You’re my top student in that class so I’ll do you one better! Next period is lunch, so I’ll give you a copy real quick since the teacher’s lounge is right here. I’ll even let you leave a half hour early IF you promise to help me organize the new textbooks when the order ships on Thursday afternoon.”

Honenuki was thrilled, and nodded his head in agreement. A half hour later a hall pass was placed on the desk along with a photocopied set of notes, and he thanked Mic again, nodding gratefully before hurrying off to the dorms.

Honenuki rushed over to your bedside with a thermometer and a hot cup of tea, and you wanted nothing more than to apologize for giving him grief the last time you saw him when he was only looking out for your well being. You opened your mouth to speak.

“Juzo, I’m s-” You got cut off by a coughing fit, and he found himself rubbing comforting circles on your back before a mug was held out to you, almost like a peace offering. His eyes were soft and caring, and he muttered out encouraging words until you calmed down enough to notice what he had brought over for you.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re good. I brought you some astragalus tea. Yaoyorozu from class A said it was really good for pain relief and sickness. Shiozaki happened to have some fresh herbs growing too for brewing.” You accepted the cup gratefully, shaky hands attempting to take a tentative sip before you sneezed, spilling the hot beverage on your lap and wincing at the pain.

Honenuki panicked, fumbling for the cup and placing it on the nightstand beside you. While you knew Honenuki would never yell at you, you knew there was a pretty high chance he would at least give you a piece of his mind or even an ‘I told you so’. He was normally pretty laid back, so to see him so visibly worried was...jarring, to say the least. It probably didn’t help that you got teary eyed from the scalding hot beverage, and as much as you wanted to cry because of how much pain you were in, you didn’t want to deal with another post-sob migraine or stuff your nose up even more.

“I thought I told you not to stay up so late.”

There it is, you thought. Honenuki had told you time and time again that pulling all nighters would lower your immune system, making you more susceptible to viral infections that you may have otherwise been able to prevent with some proper rest. It was Friday morning too, and you woefully remembered that you’d have to cancel your plans for a girls’ sleepover in the dorms later that evening.

“What was so important that you had to sacrifice your hours anyway?” He chastised you gently, careful not to raise his voice too much as he put a hand to your forehead.

You sighed at your friend, leaning into his touch. His hand retracted much too quickly for your liking, and you had to take a second to compose yourself and provide a response.

“Video games...?”, you grinned sheepishly. You didn’t want to elaborate any more, hoping he would buy it.

Honenuki almost rolled his eyes at that. He knew you typically played online with a team, more specifically Awase, Tsuburaba, and Tetsutetsu. He also knew Awase had mentioned offhand yesterday that you hadn’t been on the raid team for almost a full week, and ‘was wondering where the hell you disappeared to’ . It’s not like you played a million other games either- you only got into it because they needed a full team of four once while Rin was away visiting his family.

“Try again, (y/n). I know you don’t dabble in much else besides Minecraft.” Defeated, you sat up, covered in sweat as your clothes felt like a layer of plastic wrap.

He began to absentmindedly rub your back, a habit which you normally found endearing, now serving as major comfort. His massages were hands down the best, and you often wondered if his quirk had anything to do with it.

“I’ll tell you all about it when I’m better, but everything hurts right now.” Honenuki nodded in understanding, and you both sat in silence for a few.

“I’m going to check your temperature. Is that okay?”, he looked at you with concern.

You hummed in agreement, and the next moment the cold metal was placed against your forehead, rolling down to your temples. You wished it was any other circumstance besides this one where his face would be close to you, because holy shit, he was so cute when he was focused. If you weren’t sick as a dog you may have even had the courage to lean forward and kiss him on the teeth, but that may have just been your fever induced delirium. It beeped after about ten seconds, and he showed you the flashing 38.9°C on the little screen. From your perspective, you wondered how much of that was actually from the sickness, and how much of it was from nerves. He ruffled your hair before speaking again.

“Tell you what- go in and shower okay? You’ll feel leagues better, it’ll loosen your sinuses a little bit, plus you still have tea on your lap.” His teeth clacked as he chuckled good-naturedly.

You grumbled at the realization, and rolled out of bed to clean yourself up a bit. You left a big patch of sweat on your sheets, so Honenuki offered to run them to the laundry room and see if he could find some cough medicine in the meantime. You thanked him, your voice still raspy and gave him an affectionate headbutt before you left.

After you disappeared down the hallway with a towel, he got to work for a few minutes when his phone buzzed. Kurorio’s picture popped up on the caller ID, and Juzo unlocked his phone to accept the call.

“Heard your girlfriend’s not feeling too well?” inquired Kurorio.

“Kuro, hey man! Um, (y/n) and I are still just friends. Would be cool though.” Honenuki slapped a hand over his mouth at his wording, hoping that Kurorio would buy it (he did not).

“I’m just taking care of her for the time being, taking her temp, washing the sheets, you know?”. Kurorio hummed suspiciously, but changed the subject.

Honenuki pulled up the topsheet with both hands while balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he bantered back and forth with one of his classmates. Kurorio was cracking jokes about how much dogs in general look like their owners. Especially their homeroom teacher, Vlad King and his English bulldog.

“It's the underbite! I know the former doesn’t have the floppy jowls, but I just can’t get over the underbite!” he had said, as Honenuki was quick to mention the square shoulders probably didn’t help much either. The two of them broke into a fit of laughter as Honenuki bunched up the sheets and pillowcases into the comforter like a knapsack, about to make his way downstairs when something wooden was peeking out from between the top sheet and fitted one.

It was a simple embroidery hoop with some aida cloth stretched over it, and various colors of thread knotted and going every which way. He flipped it over cautiously, YOU SOFTEN MY HEART was stitched in neatly inside a simple little border of what looked like Astragalus blossoms, and a small tapestry needle dangled below the messier side of the work.

Honenuki was intrigued- he never knew you could cross stitch! Of course it was nowhere near completion, but the black outline you started with was kind of a dead giveaway. It was like you blocked everything out first and built a foundation before finishing the more complex portions. It had to be planned out, the craftsmanship was too deliberate, too precise to just be done one stitch at a time while still maintaining consistent proportions. It was definitely a bit of an odd phase to copy onto what would likely be a keepsake, and he puzzled over the reasoning behind it when a wrinkled piece of graph paper under the bed caught his eye.

He smoothed out the pattern you had drafted so carefully, and he was thoroughly impressed at the detail in the work. But everything seemed to click in his brain when at the very top of the sketched out pattern were the words Birthday Gift: 06/20. That, and the post-it note on the side that said It’s for Juzo you lovesick bitch so make sure you practice, practice, practice!

Was that why you were up so much? Were you learning a brand new skill this far in advance to make something for him? His birthday wasn’t even for another month, but when it came to art projects, you were always planning and organizing to create the best results. He decided to set the pieces on your desk and went back to stripping the last of your bedsheets to take down to the laundry room. It would be a while before they were dry and clean enough to put back, so if you finished up before then, he figured he could just grab a couple blankets from his own bed right across the hallway.

“Huh, that’s really pretty”, he muttered absentmindedly.

Kurorio’s interest was piqued, and before either of them knew it, the conversation went back to (y/n) as Honenuki continued to tidy up for about ten more minutes.

“Yeah, I brought her tea, and sent her in to shower. She should be fine in a couple of da-“ THUD. Seeing as how you two were the only ones in the dorms, the noise was no doubt from you. Honenuki paled, but tried to stay composed even though his mind was racing.

“You were saying?”, Kurorio was snickering on the other line, not even trying to hide his amusement.

He knew his friend had a growing crush on you, and as much as he wanted to tease him about it he knew Honenuki was stressed enough already.

“I’ll call you back.”

And with that Honenuki found himself clicking the “end call” button and booking it towards the bathroom down the empty halls of the dorms. He tried not to seem too worried, praying you just dropped a bottle or something. Still, when you were in such a state he couldn’t help the looming sense of dread that you had gotten hurt somehow.

“(Y/N)? Everything okay there?”

Silence.

He knocked again, only to be met with a pained groan from the other side. Common sense was thrown out the window as he turned the knob and found you sprawled out on the floor, face down, a little wet, but thankfully still fully clothed with the shower running. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or just confused, and if it weren’t for your labored breathing the whole thing would very much look like a crime scene.

He kneeled down to your level. “What are you even doing? I thought you were going to shower”, he asked softly as he tried to flip you on your side.

You blinked slowly, assuming fetal position as you responded.

“Water hot. Floor cold.” Just as you went to press your burning cheek back against the tile, a pair of arms scooped you up.

He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed as he set you on the countertop by the sink and helped you peel off your now soaked top, tossing it to the side. He took the hand towel hanging up next to you, folding it lengthwise and ran it under some cold water before holding it up to your forehead. Your normally healthy (h/c) hair was matted and smelled of sweat, and it looked like a real bitch to comb through. You seemed to realize just how much of a mess you were, and couldn’t help but feel tears of humiliation bubbling up. This didn’t go unnoticed by him though, and his brows pinched together in concern. Before he could ask what was the matter, you sighed ruefully.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this”, you muttered.

God, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. The man you’ve admired since day one was seeing you at rock bottom, and the shame was almost too much to bear. Honenuki, being the saint he was, just rubbed your back soothingly and told you not to worry. Still, there was a growing dread in the pit of your stomach, and you wondered why he was pitying you. Could things get any worse?

Indeed they could. Before you could stop yourself, the little bit of tea, as well as the crackers that you had consumed earlier somehow found its way back up and all over the front of not just you, but your best friend and longtime crush as well. There wasn’t a whole lot in your stomach, but the amount of it wasn’t what worried you- it was that you did it in the first place.

You started crying all over again, apologies spilling out of your mouth as you hyperventilated. This was it, there was no way he’d want anything to do with you now. He’d probably be too disgusted to keep helping you, and as soon as everyone got back to the dorms, word would get out, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. His stunned silence only made you more anxious, and you prepared for the worst when he took off his tee shirt and started wiping you off as best as he could. He put the soiled shirt into the corner before grabbing the wet towel and wiping off more of it, cleaning up the mess. Finally, he looked down at you, and squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

“It was an accident, (y/n) it’s fine. I’ll be right back”.

Now it was your turn to be stunned as you sat dumbly on the countertop for a minute until he reappeared with lysol wipes, a new towel, a jar of Eucalyptus mint soap scrub, and a fluffy bathrobe.

He turned on one of the showers, waiting for it to be a good temperature before turning back to you. “Go ahead and get in the shower. I’ll clean up.”

You didn’t have the energy to object as you shuffled over to the stall, peeling all your clothes off and getting in, albeit sitting on the floor- you didn’t want to risk falling over again. After a few minutes, you could feel your sinuses clearing a little bit. Enough for you to talk a sentence or two at least. After the events that transpired, you found some solace knowing that your best friend must really care about you to stick around and help you during a time like this. You remembered how he’d blush whenever someone asked if you were dating. You had nothing else to lose at this point, so your feverish brain made a bold decision and you stuck your head out to find him still waiting outside.

“I’m not gonna let you sit covered in vomit. And I know you’re too stubborn to leave my side to go wash up somewhere else, so get in here.”

Honenuki was at a loss for words. Was it really fair to you? You were the one inviting him in. But then again, you did have a point- he really did plan to wait it out. He’d do it a hundred times for your sake. Would it be weird? It wasn’t like you were toddlers anymore, whose mothers wanted to get a cute picture in a bubble bath- you guys were in your final year of high school, and if the note he found in your room was any kind of proof, you were just as in love with him as he was you...but there was no one else in the dorms, and the opportunity was practically handed to him on a silver platter. You were just a sick friend in need of help, right? Except you saw him as something more than that, he wasn’t stupid. And while in any other case an invitation to share a shower would be implying some sort of ulterior motive, he knew you well enough to know that you were genuinely looking to help him. Just with the added bonus of seeing a different side of you.

So he took off his shorts, opting to leave his boxers on just in case. He was silently grateful that the water was a colder temperature to ease not just your fever, but his racing thoughts as well. Keeping them on probably wouldn’t do too much to hide his arousal if they were going to get soaking wet anyway and just cling to him as a result, but at least this way he could keep it hidden from plain sight. He opened up the jar and passed it to you, which you gratefully accepted, but not before taking a deep whiff of the soothing scent. He sat behind you criss-cross applesauce, and gently took the plastic comb from you as you kept trying to yank it through your hair.

“Allow me”, he said, squeezing some shampoo out and lathering it on your head. Occasionally, the foam would fall onto your body and you’d have to flick it away with wet hands. These motions only made it that much more difficult for Honenuki to keep his eyes off your supple, soft curves. The slope of your back to your ass looked almost too inviting with the white suds cascading down in rivulets. He groaned inaudibly when you wiped a particularly large cluster of bubbles from off your chest, trying not to stare for too long.

He coughed, grabbing your attention. “Can you lean back more?”.

You tilted your head back, sighing in content as he massaged your scalp, taking great care to not get soap in your eyes. He reached for the shower head when you stopped him. You lathered up some shampoo and repeated the process on him, making sure to spike his hair up as high as you could. Then you did the same for yourself before you both turned to each other, and broke down into a fit of much needed giggles at how ridiculous you both looked. Maybe laughter really was the best medicine.

He rinsed your hair off and proceeded with the conditioner, combing it through one section at a time. It was one thing to absentmindedly play with the ends of it whenever the two of you were hanging out in close proximity, but to go through it so thoroughly and gently was surprisingly intimate, especially given your current scenario. Honenuki and you have been close for years now, maybe not quite since diapers but long enough for you to realize that he had already seen most (if not all) sides of you- and likewise, you of him. The man had somehow managed to stick by you through your awkward middle school years, to the rough days of early highschool and hero training, and even now when you were suffering the consequence of going against his advice.

You thought you were only crushing on him before, but after having him see you so vulnerable and still s tand by you, you realized the idea of spending the rest of your life with him sounded even more appealing than before, if that was possible. You, (y/n) (l/n), were in love with your best friend Juzo Honenuki, and after the events that transpired this morning, you were okay with that.

“So that’s what you use to get your hair to smell like (f/f)...” his thoughts were accidentally voiced out loud, breaking you out of your reverie. You nodded slowly, and the soft clack of his teeth was heard behind you. “It’s nice. I like it!”, he said more confidently this time before he picked up the bottle to read it.

“Thanks, you want some?”, you questioned hoarsely, but since your voice was still sore it was very difficult to be heard over the running water.

You didn’t get a response, either because you weren’t loud enough, or he was too absorbed in the words printed neatly on the bottle.

“Juzo?” He hummed in response, which you took as a yes.

If he let you use that fancy ass scrub for your illness, you figured the least you could do was share your leave-in treatment. Sharing is caring.

“Here, let me” You attempted to rotate yourself to face him so you could condition his hair too.

He glanced back up from the directions on the back, and you thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Dropping the comb he stammered, trying to maintain eye contact and not look down. He gulped, and all the words he had on the top of his tongue vanished when you plucked the comb from the wet shower floor and placed it on your thigh. You tried to reach a bit to get the conditioner bottle from him. This was a leave in conditioner, so your own (h/l) hair was still plastered down until it “set” for seven minutes. The excess dripped from the ends, down your back and shoulders, giving your body a light sheen. Your bare chest slid against his arm, and the bottle fell with a harsh clatter. He averted his eyes to look anywhere but at you, but it was kinda difficult when you were-

A. Naked

B. Feverish and flushed

C. Half straddling him

D. Covered in copious amounts of wet foam.

“Are you sure? I’m the one that’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around,” Your breasts were inches from his face, and Hoenuki swore he could feel his soul leaving his body when he finally had enough, frantically shoving the bottle in your hands.

“Juzo, you’ve helped me so much already, and it’s not even eleven am yet.” And with that he promptly shut his mouth and let you get to work on returning the favor. You squeezed out some onto your hands before rubbing them together. “Turn around and tip your head back- you’re taller than me and I can’t see.”

He normally loved massages (especially if they came from you after a long day of training), and how quickly your skillful hands would put him at ease, but he knew you weren’t really feeling your best today. He didn’t want to push you too far, but the sentiment was still appreciated nonetheless. You obviously couldn’t go for as long or apply as much pressure before your arms got tired and you started to ache a little, but you didn’t mind brushing his long, sandy blond locks. He was still grateful for the little bit that you were able to do, and you wondered how the universe could bless you with someone this sweet.

After seven minutes passed, Honenuki stood up and grabbed the shower head above you and rinsed out your hair, being extra careful to make sure each section was covered, and out of your face with a wide tooth comb in the other hand. You were still seated, and this gave him a bird’s eye view of not just your backside, but your front as well. He swore to himself he was only in to help you out, but fuck, if you weren’t contagious he’d seriously consider taking you right then and there. You peered up at him through wet lashes, and to make matters worse you were nearly eye level with his straining erection. He was almost certain you noticed, but knowing you, you were too kind to comment on it.

Eager to get out before things went south, or- god forbid- he did something impulsive he’d possibly regret, he quickly repeated the process on himself. After you were both rinsed, he switched the lever to “off” and turned to look down at you.

“I’m going to help you stand up, okay?”, his voice was calm, but assertive as he pulled back the curtains and stepped backwards out of the shower. Still seated, you spun around, and moved to push yourself up. You were halfway there when he threw a towel around your back and put his arms under yours. You suddenly felt more self conscious than ever, and as much as you wanted to drool over how toned he had gotten from years in the hero program, you couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of inadequacy at your own figure. You trembled slightly, fever chills slowly coming back now that the water was off, and your legs shaking like a baby deer.

“Juzo careful, I’m gonna sli-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you slipped on the shower floor and went tumbling forwards. Yet instead of meeting a face full of tile for the second time in the hour, you found yourself leaning into Honenuki’s protective embrace. Your breasts were pressed up against his torso, and you both found yourselves relishing the feeling of fitting together just right.

“You feel more refreshed?” He asked as he wrapped the rest of the thick towel around you.

You nodded, genuinely relieved that you were no longer covered in sweat, vomit, or tears. And you smelled damn good to boot. You still felt sick, but now at least you could heal comfortably.

~ ~ ~

“Your sheets aren’t ready yet, so you can sleep here for a little while.”

You were being carried into his dorm, wearing his fluffy robe that he had lent you after you had freshened up. He was originally just going to lend you some blankets, but he figured you’d be more comfortable in a made bed- that, and he could keep an eye on you. He went to set you down, but instead of letting go, you held onto him tighter. Honenuki glanced down at you, nuzzling into him for comfort and sighing softly. You were still a little bit warm, and your voice was raspy, but you seemed much better than you were just a short while ago. Now that you were showered and medicated (not to mention under the care of someone who’s presence just generally put you at ease no matter what), you felt like you could get better fairly quickly.

You didn’t know what you’d do without Honenuki at your side, and found yourself mumbling “please don’t go yet” when he tried to tuck you in.

Your request caught his attention, and he checked again for confirmation that he heard you correctly.

“You...want me to stay?”, Honenuki asked you curiously, a rosy hue growing on his face. The only response he got was an exhausted hum of approval, and a small nod.

“Am I some sort of alternative medicine? Can’t get enough of me?”, he joked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorably clingy you were when you were sleepy.

You were too sick to get flustered at his comment, and even if he did call you out on blushing, at least you could use your fever as an excuse.

“Alright, let me get something lighter. I know that robe is comfy, but you’ll bake yourself alive in it.” Reluctantly, you let go so he could go to his dresser drawer and find you some makeshift pajamas.

“I’m a hot snack, sorry. I gotta be wrapped up and baking”, you croaked out, smiling weakly.

It hurt like a bitch, but seeing the amused shake of his head and smiling eyes at your stupid joke was well worth it in your opinion.

He tossed a tee shirt and some boxers in your direction, and you sat up to slip the robe off. Almost immediately he whipped his head away from you so fast, you thought he’d get whiplash. It was rather cute, actually- he had already seen you naked not even ten minutes ago, and had known you for about a third of his life- but the way he cleared his throat and mumbled out a soft apology was one of the sweetest things you’ve seen from him. Your robe hit the ground and you slipped on the shirt first, before you moved to tug up the boxer shorts. Making sure everything was in place, you turned to your best friend. He still had his back to you, but you could see the very tips of his ears flushed scarlet.

Seeing him so flustered was still a relatively new sight to you, but adorable nonetheless. You took a couple seconds after you were dressed to just appreciate the sight before you, committing it to your memory. Honenuki sensed the silence that settled around the room, no longer hearing the shuffling of fabric behind him and cleared his throat before he spoke up.

“You’re all set then?”, for someone who was normally composed you noticed Honenuki’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, and he still refused to look at you as he had a hand blocking his peripheral line of sight. He was such a gentleman- you almost felt bad for flustering him so much.

“Yeah, thank you Juzo. I don’t have a bra or underwear, but if I’m being honest I think this is more comfortable.” You wanted to slap yourself for oversharing- while this fever was making coherent thoughts and common sense a bit more difficult, you couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at your lack of a filter.

Still, he plopped himself into bed behind you, pulling you into his chest and massaging your back. Your sinuses were still a bit clogged even after the shower, but his hands worked wonders when it came to easing your pain, and it didn’t take long for you to fall into a light slumber. You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes.

He could only hope that after you were fully healed, he’d be able to fully confess his feelings for you, and after how you two interacted that morning, he realized his friends insisting that you felt the same for him might not be so crazy after all. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment, as friends, because your friendship was more than enough for him if it meant he could have moments like these. The day he confessed would come eventually, right? You guys were definitely more than friends, it just wasn’t official yet. Someday, he thought wistfully. Someda-

“Thanks for softening my pain, Juzo. I love you.”

‘...!”

His eyes shot open at that, and he briefly wondered if he heard you correctly. Of course she meant you, idiot. Who else would she be talking to? H e wanted to twirl you around the room with a resounding I love you too! I always have!, he wanted to scream it from the top of the rooftops, and celebrate once and for all, but just as quickly as you had uttered the words, you fell asleep in his arms, and he was certain you could hear his racing heart through his chest. It wasn’t from nervousness however- it was the sheer joy, the anticipation of when he could finally ask you to be not just his best friend but his girlf riend, from relief of knowing you would say yes.

He now had verbal confirmation that you felt the same. The ball was in his court now, and as soon as you got better, he was going to make up for so much lost time. Even though you couldn’t hear him, he pressed his teeth gently to your forehead and held you closer, drawing heart shapes on your back.

“I love you too, (y/n).”

~ ~ ~

Thank you so much for reading this labor of love! I’d love to hear your feedback, and I’m always open to new ideas <3

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #honenuki x reader #juzo honenuki #juzo honenuki x reader #juzo x reader #x reader imagine #bug mom writes #sickfic #tw: vomit #tw: nudity

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its-r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s · 6 years ago

Text

Right Side of Wrong- Ch 4: Pleasant Goodbyes and Warm Welcomes

Words: 2845

Warnings: panic attacks, gang activity, anger and recklessness

A/N: I almost forgot to post this today... whoops! But anyway, I just wanted to warn you that this is the first time you guys are going to see a POV change in this story. It will happen a few times, so hopefully you can distinguish pretty easily between them.

Ch 3 | Ch 5

~ ~ ~

I ran straight for the dorm rooms. I didn’t know where else to go. Only one thought was running through my head: I cracked.

I couldn’t keep it together. Couldn’t handle the pressures of being an Auradon girl… That was it.

I didn’t breathe for the next hour. I couldn’t. I could barely hiccup between sobs.

Lucky enough, Evie wasn’t in the room when I got back. There was no way to hide from her in this state, and for some reason… I still didn’t want her to know how upset I was. Maybe it was because I was sure she would be able to convince me to stay. And then I would end up in the same cycle again, wishing desperately to get away until I broke under all the pressure.

I threw on some pants and a plain tshirt. It wasn’t very Isle-like, but I just needed to get onto the Isle undetected. After that, I would find something more suitable.

I packed up my bag with a few belongings and sat down with a pen and paper.

I debated who to write the letter to. There were some things that I needed all of them to know before I left. So, I figured, since Evie would be the first one to find it, I’d address it to her.

My writing was a scribbled mess, difficult to read even if I hadn’t been crying. But I was able to get it all down on paper. I tried to tell myself that I was doing this for their good. They could all be so much happier. Ben especially…

My eyes slid down to the ring he had given me. I hadn’t even taken it off since the whole fiasco with my mother. But I couldn’t take it with me, no matter how much I wanted to. It wasn’t mine anymore. I was giving Ben up and along with him went everything else.

It took me a few minutes to put it down, rolling it between my fingers. It was gorgeous, something so meaningful to our relationship that I never thought I’d be parted from it. But I couldn’t waste time sitting here and pondering on a life where I could always wear this ring. That world was long lost.

As I stood and grabbed my stuff, the coat rack to the right of the door caught my attention again.

My old jacket still hadn’t moved, the dragons sitting comfortably.

It burned that my mother had control over all of my old stuff, including this dumb jacket. If I stepped on the Isle wearing that, I would practically be waving a giant flag that said, “MALEFICENT’S BACK”.

In my anger and my desire to wear something familiar back to my hometown, I threw the bag to the floor and grabbed the leather article once more. It had a faintly smoky set to it, something which helped clear my mind from the emotional afternoon. I laid it out across Evie’s work table and grabbed some thread cutters.

It wasn’t the best job I could have done. Threads hung down the back of the jacket and pieces of the dragon patch were torn as I ripped it off, but it felt so good.

I pulled the jacket over my arms and zipped it to the top.

Clearing the last of my sadness and worries from my eyes, I picked up the discarded bag and my motorcycle keys and left the room without so much as a look behind me.

~ ~ ~

Ben buried himself into his work. He was shaken from his argument with Mal earlier.

He shouldn’t have freaked out on her, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had done his best to be there for her for the past year, and she had been lying to him. She had been lying about using magic. Lying about doing her best. Lying about getting better…

Why hadn’t she told him? If she was really upset, why didn’t she just talk to him? He had made it clear that he would always support her, hadn’t he?

“Deborah?” he called.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” she responded from the other side of the bluetooth.

“Can you ask Lumiere to call me regarding Cotillion?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.” He hung up and began to look over some paperwork from earlier that day, when he heard a soft knocking at the door.

“Ben?” Evie asked.

“Evie! Come on in!” he told her.

He took out his earpiece and stood up to greet her, but was met with an unexpected sight.

She spun around, shutting the door as fast as possible. When she turned to look at him, she had tear streaks running down her face. She scanned the room for others.

“What’s wrong?” He dodged around his desk to rush up to his friend. “Do you want to sit down, or…?”

She shook her head, tilting her face back, as if that would make her reabsorb the tears. “No, Ben. It’s just… Um, Mal…” She was breathing heavily.

“What about Mal?” he demanded, getting more concerned by the minute. “Is she okay?”

“She’s gone back to the Isle.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words knotted themselves in his throat. She went to the Isle? But… why?

Evie slowly forced a piece of paper into his hands. He glanced between her and the object she had just given him a couple times before realizing that he needed to read what’s inside.

Dear Evie, it read. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry to you, Jay, and Carlos, that I ever got you caught up in my mess. I know what my life and my mother have done to you three. The Isle was bad enough, but being tied into Maleficent in any degree meant you were doomed from the start and I was the tie that held you three there. I only hope the place has changed. Because, by the time you read this… that’s where I’ll be.--

“Ben,” Evie whispered, interrupting his reading. Holding up her hand, she presented him with another object. The class ring he had given Mal.

His hand shook as he reached for it. It was cold in his palm. She had taken it off a few hours ago. Most likely, right after their fight.

--Tell Ben that I’m sorry too. I’ve had him caught up in this lie that I was his dream girl for too long, and I’m not. He’ll find someone perfect for him. I know he will. But he is a king and I am a monster.

“This is my fault,” he breathed out. “This is my fault! I-I blew it.”

“Ben-” Evie’s voice cracked as she spoke, too heartbroken to be able to comfort him.

“She’d been under so much pressure lately, and instead of being understanding, I just went all Beast on her.”

“Ben, had she talked to you about this?” Evie questioned.

His heart felt like it would shrivel up in his chest. What was he supposed to do? He needed Mal. “We got in a fight. It was stupid, but I found out she had been lying to me about using magic and I was just so… upset. And I-”

“I look at this,” Evie interrupted, pointing at the note that Ben had crumpled up his hand, “and all I can think is, how did I miss this? She had been sending out signs all the time to me, and I-” Her voice broke off with a sob. “And I told her not to talk about it. I mean… how selfish can I be?”

“No, Evie. I’m the one who sent her over the edge today. This is on me… I have to go there and apologize,” he realized. “I have to go there and- and beg her to come back!”

“Ben, you’ll never find her-” He tried to argue with her, but Evie wouldn’t let up. “The Isle is huge. Maybe not compared to Auradon, but it is set up specifically to be confusing and ugly and… you have to take me with you.”

His neck could have snapped with the force he used to look at her. “Are-Are you sure?”

She nodded, although her face wasn’t exactly screaming yes. “She’s my best friend.”

It took both of them a minute to settle in and come to terms with what they planned to do. But the minute Evie was certain that she was going, she was making plans.

“I haven’t talked to either of the boys about this, yet,” she explained. “I can only hope they’ll agree to come with us, because there’s safety in numbers and none of us are… too popular over there right now.”

“Thank you.”

“But let’s get two things straight. The first being, I’m not going to force the boys, or anyone for that matter, to come with us. And neither are you. That place is an actual hell and I do not blame a single one of them for avoiding it. We have to be prepared to do this alone.”

Ben nodded quickly. He was more than happy to hear her demands if it meant a better chance of getting Mal back.

“And you have to promise me I… we won’t get stuck there again.”

It broke Ben’s heart to hear that. Those poor kids. They had lived an unspeakable life, one that he and the other students could never comprehend. And for so long, no one had even spared a thought for them.

“I promise,” he told her, with his deepest sincerity.

She huffed. “Good. I’m going to tell the boys… do you want to keep the note for now?”

Ben looked down. The paper had become so squished in his hand that a section or two had ripped around the ring, which was sitting in the center of his palm.

“Yes,” he responded, softly.

Evie gave him a look of support, then left so that he could process alone.

~ ~ ~

Nobody saw anything on the Isle. It was almost comforting to be back in a place where I wasn’t under constant observation. But… it was weird. Because I could walk down a busy street and still feel utterly alone. I was utterly alone.

I knew what I would be giving up when I left Auradon. Or at least, I thought I did.

After I had parked my bike outside my old apartment and dropped off my stuff, I went wandering. There were a couple of things that needed to happen before I started making it known that I was back.

I pulled around a tight corner and found myself in front of Lady Tremaine’s Curl Up and Dye.

I groaned, seeing the large “Closed Until MIDNIGHT” sign on the door. I had completely forgotten. I contemplated coming back later, but something came over me. If I could somehow avoid Tremaine, I wouldn’t have to deal with any crowd inside which would be great, but there could only be one other person inside…

Dizzy’s music was muffled in her headphones, but still loud enough that I could hear it from the doorway.

The shop looked as it always had. Steaming vats of colorful chemicals lined the walls. All highly toxic, but on the Isle, that was the least of your worries. There were dried splatters of paint and dye on the walls, floor, and chairs. Vibrant wigs hung in front of windows and all the mirrors were shattered.

Dizzy danced along to the cute dance-pop song she was listening to and swept up small segments of hair on the floor.

I paused, watching the preteen lost in the blissful peace. It didn’t take her long, though to turn my direction and freeze.

“Mal!” she shrieked, pulling off her headphones. “Is Evie back, too?”

It hurt my heart to tell her no. Dizzy had been looking up to Evie since E first came into Lady Tremaine’s when she was 12. They were both made of the same creative mold, just slightly different talents between them.

Dizzy’s face dropped and I could start to feel the tension rising in the silence.

“I, um, forgot that you guys don’t open until midnight.”

She nodded, looking sort of solemnly at the floor. “Uh, Mal? What are you doing back here?”

I shrugged, wandering a bit. “Turns out princess life… not for me.”

“Well, that’s… I don’t know how the others are going to take that.”

“I know, I know. Everyone hates me because I ruined the chance to break the barrier and killed the Mistress of All Evil,” I grumbled. “But hey! Hate can be a temporary state of mind. What are things like now that my mother isn’t in charge?”

Dizzy bit down on her lip. “Okay? There’s still… bad stuff.”

“There will always be bad stuff,” I noted, glumly.

“Yeah. There isn’t really a set ruler. Just some big gangs who are dominating different sections of the Isle.”

I quirked an eyebrow and she went on.

“The Evil Queen has got the north. She broke away the minute she heard that Maleficent was dead and began gaining territory. A lot of your mom’s goons work for her now. I think Jafar followed her up there as well, but no one’s heard from Cruella since that day. There’s a rumor that she’s dead, but I doubt it. If someone had killed her, they’d be using that to their advantage. Shan Yu has a bit of a following, but not enough conquer any territory for himself. And the pirate’s around the bridge… they all belong to Uma.”

“Uma?” I wrinkled my nose. I hadn’t heard her name in a long, long time.

Uma was the daughter of Ursula, a “once was” sort of villain around these parts. When my mother was choosing her following, she sort of tossed Ursula aside as pointless. And the minute I realized we didn’t need her mother’s favor, I dropped Uma like a hot potato.

It wasn’t anything against the girl. In some ways, I was glad that she was one less person my mother could torment. But oh boy was that hard for her to hear.

There was a time when half the Isle would call her Shrimpy, a nickname I had used when telling her that she couldn’t be a part of my gang. Her and her mother were suddenly at the bottom of the island food chain. Her mom opened a restaurant which she worked in for years, doing dishes and serving passing pirates.

She made it clear to me that she would get her revenge on me someday. I was never much afraid of her, seeing as I was backed by some of the strongest people on the Isle, but Uma was strong. I could see that she was far more of a leader than I was. So, I didn’t push her too far.

Then, about two and a half years ago, she sort of fell off my map. The most I heard of her was from Harry Hook or Gil, Gaston’s son, because they were often her little lackey boys.

She stopped leaving the edge of the barrier. She seemingly stopped plotting any sort of revenge on me. And now she was back, over two years later, with a whole gang under her control.

“Figures,” I muttered under my breath. “So, what is your deal? Has your grandmother given you any customers yet?”

She shrugged, glad to drop the topic. “Ah, just a witch here and there. Mostly it’s a lot of scrubbing and scouring and sweeping. Lots and lots of sweeping,” she prompted, waving her broom back and forth.

“Sounds like the old Cinderella treatment, eh?” I joked.

“Yeah. She’s gone from Wicked Stepmother to Wicked Grandmother.”

Dizzy glanced at the ceiling, as if afraid Lady Tremaine would hear her. It brought me back to a time where I was living on my toes like that. Never saying anything bad about my mother, because she had ears everywhere.

“That’s not really much of a switch,” I said, solemnly. “Hey, Dizzy, you used to do Evie, right?”

“Yeah,” she responded excitedly. “I thought of the little braids.”

“You have any ideas for me?” I raised an eyebrow, as if taunting her to try and think something up.

Her eyes narrowed, tilting her head to get a look from different angles. Then, she stepped forward, confidence reading on her face.

“The washed-out blonde with purple tips? The best of no worlds. You can’t see where your face ends and your hair begins!”

I chuckled. I could see why Evie liked the girl. I thought that Evie was just there for the attention, but so far, Dizzy had just been hitting me with the cold, hard truth. She was five feet of glitter and business.

She pulled me into one of the chairs and looked me over. “Hm. How far can I go?”

I clicked my tongue. “The works? I mean, whatever makes me feel like me, but, you know… way worse.”

“Yay!” she squealed and ran to get her stuff.

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oceanmastertrash · 6 years ago

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the tides know our names- 9/?

Summary: -takes place after the movie- Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward when Elara has a vision of his death. As part of an order of Atlanteans dating back to the reign of King Atlan known as Tidewatchers, it is her duty to warn the king of her vision. Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.

Part: 9/?

Word Count: 2,299

Warnings: alcohol mention

Read on Ao3 / start from the beginning

Author's Note: apparently I forgot to post this chapter on here when I wrote it days ago. whoops. Sorry about that.

Working hard to be less aware of how close she and Orm suddenly were, Elara looked down to the coral reef below them. She kept her eyes locked on Calysa until the party was hidden from view by the coral reef. And, just like that, she and Orm were on their way to the surface and an uncertain fate.

Assuming they wouldn’t have been crushed by the ocean or exhaustion, it would have taken surface dwellers weeks to swim to their destination from Atlantis. Elara and Orm, however, managed it in the better part of a day.

Several hours of that, and by far the day’s longest stretch of time was spent travelling with the humpback whales. They had decided it best to stay with the pod for several hours in the name of stealth. It wasn’t til they were leagues and leagues away that they broke formation and struck out on their own. Elara had scanned the tides for any sign of a tail and, finding none, they changed headings for the Gulf of Mexico.

If they weren’t trying so hard to hide their tracks, they likely could have made the journey in just a couple hours. Atlanteans are extremely strong swimmers to begin with but Orm could cut through the water like a missile. Elara found herself having to do her best just to keep up with him. The last thing she wanted was him thinking of her as dead weight by asking him to slow down.

They hardly talked on their journey except to suggest a course change. They swam alongside other pods of whales and numerous schools of ocean life. Part of it was for stealth but to Elara, it seemed like it was something else for the prince. It felt like Orm was trying to soak up as much of the ocean while he could.

Throughout most of the day, Orm wore a look of complete concentration but there were times- when they swam with the stingrays or over a seabed of vibrant sea anemones that his expression changed. He seemed to be trying to remember and bask in everything about life below the waves while he still could.

While Elara had a fondness for the surface, she found herself doing the same. There really was nothing like the freedom and the ease of the ocean. Everything that felt so natural down here just felt stiffer and more bogged down up above.

Atlanteans in general had a superior sense of direction and location so Elara and Orm were able to find the correct inlet in the gulf of Mexico that would lead to the cottage Arthur’s friend was lending them. It really was an ideal location: close to the ocean but secluded and away from prying eyes.

At sunset, after all the effort and planning, they reached the surface with very little ceremony. They had been under the waves and then they stood on the shore, their fet still in the shallow tides.

Elara was exhausted physically and emotionally and wanted nothing more than to go inside and fall straight to sleep wherever she landed. But she stayed where she was. Orm seemed unwilling to move farther inland from where he stood on the shore. Almost to give him permission, she turned around to face the ocean they’d just swam through. Very slowly, Orm turned to join her.

They said nothing, just watching the sun set as they said their silent goodbyes to the waves. As the sun finally passed below the horizon, Elara felt all of the exhaustion of the day hit her anew. She didn’t want Orm to feel alone in this but the need to rest was not to be ignored.

She sighed, turning ever so slightly so she could look at him and the ocean as she said, “I’m going in. I’ll see what there is to eat.”

When he didn’t reply she turned back around and began walking up the beach to the cottage. Surprisingly, a beat later, she heard the splash of the waves as he followed her.

Their first couple days on the surface were miserable. Elara mostly blamed Orm for this but it was partially her fault. They’d gotten off to a rough start when, minutes after entering the safe house, she’d suggested that they change and dry off. He’d looked at her stiffly even as he dripped onto the lovely wood floors as he’d asked her “why on earth would I want to do that?”

She’d just sort of blinked at him and then went back to making dinner for them both. She understood being proud of the water and all but hadn’t had enough energy to explain to him how uncomfortable it was to slog about on the surface in drenched clothing. She’d decided this was just going to be one of those things that she’d let him discover on his own.

The first night she’d decided to let him sulk. She left food on the counter, but as he seemed disinclined to get up from where he sat soaking the couch she took her food to the furthest bedroom she’d decided to claim as her own. After eating she’d meant to shower but warm as she was in her dry clothes, she fell right to sleep.

The next day wasn’t much better. He’d at least changed into some different clothes but his mood wasn’t any better. She didn’t want him to get into the habit of relying on her to do cleaning and cooking but she also feared the idea of his clothes from yesterday laying in a sodden pile on the wood floors and growing mold. Instead she’d told him she was taking her wet clothes out to the deck to dry in the sun and suggested he joined her. To his credit he did but he was taciturn and silent.

He had a lot of resentment brewing and it seemed the list of things he resented about surface life only grew. He resented having to be told how to prepare food on the surface. He didn’t like the beeps from the microwave and he hated all of the food items that were highly processed. He complained about various packing materials and non-recyclable containers.

Bearing his complaints as best she could, she decided to go to the store and find some things he might like more like biodegradable packages, and loads of organic vegetables and meats that were as organic and unprocessed as she could find. Down below, Atlanteans ate a lot of what the surface might call seafood but she was convinced he’d hate something about their presentation so she’d opted for land meat instead. She invited him along to the store with her but he seemed disinterested in any interaction with the surface dwellers. Elara sighed and went without him.

Unfortunately, his mood didn’t improve the next day; if anything his frustration had grown and been joined by a sort of restlessness. He assented to cooking lessons but she sensed it was less to do with any real interest and more so he could have something to do with his hands.

He liked what she’d picked up better or at least complained less about it and he seemed to at least get some satisfaction out of chopping vegetables and fruits so she made burritos one day and a stew the next that would require his skills.

He wasn’t as bad as he could of been but he was miserable and by proximity he was making her miserable too. She tried to relax, to read what books were in the cottage or to try to meditate on the tides but Orm’s nervous energy was infectious. If he wasn’t pacing or chopping, he was surveying the land and house. Sometimes he’d scoff at something but, happily, he kept whatever dissatisfaction he had to himself.

She understood what he was feeling and certainly didn’t hold it against him but it was a lot to handle. She tried to keep to the common areas in case he had a surface question or seas forbid he wanted to talk instead of pacing about or practicing training routines. Not that she minded seeing him work through fighting forms through the windows but it was kind of hard to pretend to focus on anything else when he moved like that. At one point all of his anxious presence got to be too much for her and retreated to her room.

She’d said she was going to meditate the tides but really she took a bath and tried to unwind. She did actually try to glimpse relevant patterns but their future was as frustratingly muddy as it had been before they’d come up here. She tried to check in on Arthur but she failed to glean anything useful or any kind of progress.

She also tried suggesting that she take him into town to maybe see some local life but he was decidedly against such plans and she didn’t have it in her to argue with him. Did she think getting out of that house and off that beach would help? Yes. But she knew it would take more than just a few days for him to be desperate enough for that.

At first she’d thought it was convenient that the cottage was right off the beach but now it felt more like a curse. Because anytime they went outside or looked out the window, there was the ocean staring back at them.

She’d had a moment where she considered inviting him out for a swim with her but, she almost worried that if she got him back in the water she wouldn’t be able to get him back out of it again. Orm seemed to be on a similar wavelength because he never got close to it.

It felt like there was some invisible boundary line between them and the beach that he refused to cross. At first she thought that he was trying to resist temptation but then she sensed something else from him that shocked her. It felt, in that glimmer, that he was almost punishing himself for something by keeping his distance. The idea seemed so strange to Elara but, a couple times after she’d caught him looking out the windows he’d had this look in his eye that seemed to confirm her sense.

Four days passed in this kind of purgatory. They talked little but most of what they said was functional and pertained to tasks that needed doing. She would have loved to try to talk him through this but she didn’t feel she had that right.

On top of all this, she was endlessly restless as well at being essentially cooped up but she was doing her best to give him space. It was all driving her crazy. So on the fourth day, after failing to persuade him to go to town with her, she’d decided that something had to give. Remembering a very memorable evening she’d had out once as a Tidewatcher apprentice on the surface she went to town alone to get some supplies.

Carrying her spoils back to the house in her reusable bags, Elara began to wonder if she’d gotten too much or if this was even a good idea. Entering the cottage, she saw Orm in a short-sleeved shirt doing some of his training forms, the muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing in mesmerizing ways. No, she decided on the spot, this was definitely a good idea.

Not addressing the prince, Elara went to the kitchen where she began to unpack her purchases. There were a lot of bottles and they basically filled the counters. Trying to position them all, she knocked a, thankfully non-glass bottle on the floor on her foot. At her muttered oath, Orm stepped in before seeing her purchases.

He had frown of confusion on his face, “What is all this?”

“This, my prince,” Elara said motioning before her to the many bottles of alcohol, “Is how we’re going to spend our friday night: partying like the surface folk.”

Orm’s frown was now one of distaste. “I have no interest in ‘partying’ especially not as they do up here.”

Elara had expected that, “aha! That is exactly why you need to.”

Orm began to turn away but Elara stopped him, “Orm wait.”

He paused, perhaps only because she’d called him by his name and not his title for the first time.

“Listen, I know it’s hard for you being up here. It’s driving you crazy and I get it. It’s hard for me too. But it’s not going to get easier by us ignoring each other and hoping we can get back to Atlantis tomorrow.”

He was silent for a moment before saying slowly, “I’m not trying to ignore you.”

“Well it still feels like you are,” she said sighing. “Listen, I’m not asking you to like all this but could you try to accept that this is happening? Arthur said he wanted you to get to know the surface and you’re not going to do that by pacing and training here all day everyday.”

He said nothing and she couldn’t read him so she kept going. “I’m not asking you to go out to a bar with me or go out and befriend the local townsfolk. Just work with me here.”

Finally, as if he might actually be taking her words to heart, he asked, “What would you have me do?”

“Tonight,” she said, “I want us to drink and if we’re feeling festive maybe actually talk to each other.”

He was still highly unhappy and hesitant as hell, but, to his credit he followed her into the kitchen to look at their collection of alcohol.

“Where do we start?”

A/N: hehehehehehe. Yeah buddy it is surface shenanigans time. XD In other news, as much as I love to write Orm's redemption, it was actually a lot of fun writing him being sulky and petulant in this chapter. As they say "Orm wasn't saved in a day!" okay so the original saying might have had to do with Rome, but whatevs. Despite my first thoughts for this chapter, I realized it was wildly optimistic to assume that after trying to wage war with the surface that he wouldn't be a Supreme Unhappy Camper if he was stuck up here. So that's what I was trying to stay true to here. Alright enough rambling, hope you guys liked!

#king orm #king orm x oc #orm x oc #orm marius #the tide knows our names #tidewatcher fic #oceanmastertrash

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moonwaterart · 3 years ago

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A Slick New Crew sneak peak

Remember me talking about and working on stuff for this homestuck intermission fic I'd thought of a while ago? I was finally able to actually start writing it in a way I actually liked and felt good.

That being said, I completely forgot that Spade Slick died at the end of Homestuck (whoops), so this is a canon-divergent story where he and the rest of The Felt actually lived to see the end of Lord English and the start of the rebuilding of civilization which leads into Homestuck^2

That being said, the main story takes place about 350 years after everything happened following a carapace from one of the fifteen influential families of New Midnight City. They're stuck in the same seemingly endless routine and wants something more out of life. that though is a story to post once it's all finished.

Under the cut is a small epilogue of sorts, hope you enjoy!

“Out of all the stupid ideas you’ve had. This has got to be in the top three.” Slick’s second-in-command commented as he took another drag of his crumbling cigarette. He may be right. This plan was stupid. Asinine.

But Spades Slick was pissed. Oh so pissed off to the point he was done with listening to reason.

The Felt had destroyed his favorite casino. The Midnight Crew’s biggest way of getting money save for one or two of their under the collar speak-easy’s. Not to mention the destruction of the place also meant a good number of innocents died. Sure, he could care less if a few people were killed in the crossfire of one of their many heists or run-ins with the big rival gang, but this was more than just a handful of randoms. These were an extension of the crew themselves. Dames and gentlemen who swore to secrecy their involvement with Slick and his boys. Those who kept the front going under the pretense of stable living if they had none.

Now it’s gone. All gone within the span of a few hours.

‘Then what the fuck do you suggest we do, numbnuts?! They knocked The Round Table to the ground and you expect us to just let them get fuckin’ away with that?!” Slick snapped back.

“All I’m saying is that we can think of something better than taking on The Felt head on. We can pick them off in small groups depending on who’s there and take on the rest once they finally realize they’ve messed with us one too many times. Taking on all fifteen plus their bosses is going to kill us, Jack-“

“DONT FUCKIN USE THAT NAME WHEN YOU SPEAK TO OR ABOUT ME, DROOG!” He snapped once again, his voice increasing in volume. “FUCK WAITING AND FUCK THE FELT! WE’RE GETTING RID OF THEM ONCE AND FOR ALL TONIGHT!”

Diamonds Droog let out a sigh. Once Slick got riled up, there wasn’t much to do about stopping him unless he wanted a knife to the shoulder or neck… or both.

“DEUCE! I NEED YOU TO PACK YOUR EXPLOSIVES!”

His voice pulled the smallest of the group into the conversation. “A-all of ‘em?”

“EVERY LAST FUCKIN ONE OF ‘EM!”

That seemed to excite the scar riddled carapace and he took off to his room to get ready. Slick snapped more orders toward the remaining two, Droog and Hearts Boxcars, the biggest of the crew and their main muscle. Slick’s hand sputtered with purple flame before he quickly sniffed it out, digging one of many of his knives into the table where a set of plans was strewn out.

“If any one of them survives, we’re dead in the water. If you see any of them, don’t hesitate to put a bullet between their eyes.”

----

Spades Slick paced about his shared room with Ms Paint. He’d been asked by one of those kids to help them make a museum wing dedicated to the story of his old city. The city he once built but destroyed decades earlier. The kid seemed to be a big fan of hearing all about it.

Slick and a few others that lived there and somehow survived did their best to help with writing things down, teaching the curators and helping with building replicas of things from their old city. The only thing left to do was give those making the wing relics of the past and brief descriptions of what they did. That included things from his gang… and the crew. He didn’t have much left from those times save for each forked over time juju he was able to snag from The Felt before they split as well as old hats and suits. Almost every one of them had been handed over to keep behind glass cases save for one he had held onto for safe keeping. He couldn’t will himself to part with it. Not yet.

A robotic hand thumbed over the small effigy in his hands that once belonged to Die. But since his takeover of The Felt, he just never gave it back.

The doll helped the skittish Felt member hop between timelines where peoples pins represented their deaths in those alternate realities, but it was also a way for Slick to keep track of those who died during the Midnight Crews final job. There were only four pins pushed in at the present time. Those he never pulled back out.

He stopped to examine each pin. One had an 8 ball on the end of it representing the one he hated the most. She would never come back, never on his watch. He’d rather be buried alive with the doll to keep her from coming back then have that pin pulled. The other three though were always hard to look at. Ones that, despite his hard hearted nature and anger towards anyone who pissed him off, he hadn’t pulled due to his feelings toward what he himself had done.

He was the only one of The Midnight Crew to survive that incident; though now he was half-robot. A huge explosion followed by the collapse of the original Felt Manor after he killed Snowman. The one being keeping the whole timeline alive was slaughtered and that’s what caused the collapse of Midnight City. The cause of thousands of lives lost… and it wasn’t until his decision to bring one gang back that the guilt of leading his crew… his family… to their deaths all because he wouldn’t listen to Droog and let one casino loss be okay came bubbling to the surface of his conscience. He should have let The Felt get a leg up on them until they could formulate a decent plan. He never pulled their pins because he felt guilty. He should have listened.

He could never face them again. He used them for a selfish gamble and he lost it all before he gained back a bit of what was lost. It couldn’t replace everything though and he understood why.

A hug from behind snapped him out of his thoughts. He almost instinctively reached to his side for a knife to pull at whomever was behind him, but stopped when he remembered where he was. Who was there.

“Sorry if I woke ya, Paint…”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Her soft spoken voice flooded his senses as she spoke to him, her cheek pressed against his back as she held him. “Are you okay? You seem stressed.”

He couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at her question, she was always so caring. Always putting others first. He didn’t deserve her. “Aren’t I always?”

“You know what I meant.”

“I know, I know… I’ll be alright. Just… thinkin.”

“…it’s about your crew again… isn’t it?”

He felt himself choke up slightly, but kept his voice from cracking as he answered. “I… I let ‘em all down, Paint… I should have listened…”

“Slick… Jack…” She nudged him slightly so he’d turn to look at her. She reached up, cupping his head with her hands. “What’s done is done. What happened… was awful… yes… but we can’t change what will happen unless we want to face other horrible things that could have happened. They meant so much to you. I know they’d listen to your apologies, even if they aren’t here physically.”

She looked down at the doll, brushing it lightly. Slick watching with pain in his heart. He knew she was right for the most part, but he highly doubted The Midnight Crew would ever forgive him.

Maybe he should let the doll go. Keep it locked away where it wouldn’t be touched. He’d have to pound into the curator’s head how it should never be touched… but he could let it go if he could trust them to keep it safe.

“I know, Paint…” he told her finally, using his power to turn the doll into the Six of Spades. “‘M sorry for worryin’ ya, Doll. I’ll be okay come tomorrow night.”

She took the card and went to set it on the nightstand by the bed. “Why don't we go out for a while? The moon’s still high in the sky. Some fresh air could do us both some good.”

“… That’d be great.” Thinking about it: Maybe finally letting them go would be what he needed to move on with his life. He pulled on some clothes and waited for her to do the same before he offered his arm and led her out into the night. Tomorrow was a new day and hopefully his ghosts would finally let him be. Until then, he’d just have to wait for the perfect time to let them go.

#baps writes #carapace #the midnight crew #midnight city #spades slick #ms paint #diamonds droog #clubs deuce #hearts boxcars #homestuck ficlet #robo slick #I'm bad at writing homestuck #a slick new crew

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distinctivelibrarians · 8 years ago

Note

Here's a prompt if you like/want to write it: Sleep deprived Jacob.

Thank you so much for this prompt! And I am so sorry this took me so long! Like… I have no excuses actually. I got distracted, then busy with school, then distracted again and I am just really sorry.

BUT If it’s any consolation, this turned into the longest prompt-fill I’ve done? Completely by accident, whoops.

Also, it’s probably more angsty than it should’ve been. But, I hope you like it!

cross-posted to ao3 here

warnings: alcohol mention (drinking as coping, briefly mentioned, not on-screen), alluded disassociation episodes

It wasn’t something anyone set out to notice. But, by the time they did, they were all living out of each other’s pockets, whether they liked it or not. They all knew far more about each other than they probably would’ve liked - and all lived with it the same way anyone does when stuck in close conditions: teasing, ignoring it, making comments when things change but otherwise, just leaving it be.

If Jenkins was nursing coffee, speaking to him before it was gone was a bad idea. Flynn had regular arguments with the Library, and it was best to just step out of his way. Eve would start fiddling with whatever was in reach if she needed to punch something (or, you know, just work out for a bit, whatever she called it). Sunglasses meant talking quietly around Cassandra for awhile. Loose valuables during a conversation or meeting were basically asking Ezekiel to lift them - for practice, promise. Jacob could fall asleep, anywhere, anytime, and wake up just as easily to rejoin the conversation.

The first couple of times it happened, there had been a couple worried noises - did something happen, why wasn’t he sleeping at home, is this really that boring, and the like - which, he, of course, brushed off. If pressed, he blamed working with his Pop at drill sites since he was old enough to know when to move out of the way; there, the noise never stopped, but if you wanted to function without heart-palpitating amounts of caffeine, you took what sleep you could. No one really pointed out that sleeping before work could’ve fixed that.

Eventually, it was just normal to find Jacob asleep at his desk, only to pop back up a little while later and go back to typing like he hadn’t stopped. Or passed out two minutes into a car trip whenever the team couldn’t be bothered with the Back Door. Or curled up in a corner in the stacks, books piled around him, listening to quiet music on a pair of beat-up headphones. Or tucked into a corner of a couch in the theatre, some random movie playing low - and that one had been interesting, since everyone had spent the hour up to that actively looking for the man.

It was just a normal facet of working at the Library. You refilled Jenkins coffee cup if he kept glaring, made sure Flynn didn’t walk into bookshelves, got out of Eve’s way, got Cassandra advil and tea, watched your pockets around Ezekiel, and occasionally stepped over a passed out Jacob.

Which, of course, meant that as soon as they’d all settled into the fine-lined rhythm of working around each other, one little thing was all it took to screw it up.

It wasn’t a sudden thing, which is the only reason Cassandra and Ezekiel cut themselves a little slack, later on. Jacob didn’t come into the Library the next day suddenly looking wiped and out of sorts. He didn’t stop sleeping at his desk from one day to the next. They still sometimes tripped over him between the shelves. He still popped right back into conversations as if he hadn’t just been quietly snoring, leaning against the window in the car.

But, sure enough, each happened less and less, after they came back from Oklahoma. Coffee mugs took up the space on his desk he normally cleared to rest his head. Trips back into the maze of shelves always ended up with him back at his desk. He was still quiet in the car - enough that if no one was paying attention, he might as well have been asleep - watching whatever landscape was blurring past the windows.

Jacob came into the Library earlier and earlier, to the point that he even tended to beat Eve in - she’d end up wandering through the Back Door, as put together as anyone was at six am, to find Jacob perched at his desk, empty coffee mug beside him, sparing her a ‘good morning’ and not much else.

It took weeks for the bags under his eyes to become obvious - and whether that was because it had taken that long for them to become bruised smears or because he finally just gave up hiding them, they still didn’t know, and didn’t really want to ask when it was all said and done.

Jenkins made off-comments about being able to go through the shelves without tripping. Flynn remarked about no longer being worried about waking Jacob up when he was arguing at the Library. Eve seemed to enjoy having a near on-call sparring partner in the mornings. Cassandra and Ezekiel teased along - and why wouldn’t they. Outside of the bags and sudden caffeine intake, Jacob was as lively as usual, as focused on cases, as likely to bust into a historical rant of truly epic proportions.

Up until Ezekiel caught Jacob curled up in the theatre again. He hadn’t even known Jacob was in the Library that night - they’d all split early, as a reward for finishing up a case with absolutely no problems (“A goddamn miracle. Get outta here before the universe decides to laugh at us.”) Hell, he was only there because he’d wanted to ask Jenkins about a couple of exhibits he’d cased a couple years ago - he remembered them being funky, and he’d wanted to double check a couple things before he forgot again.

It took him a couple moments to figure out just what was wrong with the scene - it almost looked exactly like when they found Jacob in the theatre a couple weeks ago: asleep, with some no-name movie on in the background. Then, he hadn’t smelled like a distillery though (thankfully, he was empty-handed at least). And he’d been actually asleep, not watching the screen with heavy-lidded eyes like he was now. Ezekiel made the executive decision to leave him the hell alone that night. And if he went back to check a couple of times, just to make sure Jacob was still there and still empty-handed, well. No one else was there to notice.

And up until Cassandra caught Jacob in research loop. It didn’t click the first couple of times she watched him get up from his desk and head into the stacks, only to come back empty-handed. But by the fourth or fifth, he’d started looking frustrated, bordering on angry, and when she’d followed him back, he’d ended up staring at the shelves, just. Confused. And a little bit lost. She’d stepped in at that point, asking if he wanted any help looking for something. He’d looked painfully embarrassed, but also so relieved it broke her heart just a little bit. (And just a little bit more when it turned out what he was looking for was on the other side of the Library.) He’d muttered a thanks and returned to his desk, not moving from it for the rest of the day.

After that, Ezekiel and Cassandra noticed more and more - after another week of sidestepping around each other, trying to figure out how to bring it up in the first place. Little things, here and there. More frustrated grumbling with his research. Fewer off-the-cuff history rants. More and more confused looks. A handful of nights where they found him in the theatre again (never as bad as that first though, thankfully). Darker and darker shadows under his eyes. Connecting everything back to him no longer sleeping in the Library was just that final push to get them to resolve to do something about it.

They both agreed that a subtle approach would probably work better - the last thing they needed was Jacob shutting them down completely, insisting he was fine and that they should just leave well enough alone. Which, he would. They knew he well enough by now for that. So. Subtle. They could do subtle.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“This tea is amazing, if you want to try it. Knocks me right out most nights.”

“Has coffee just. Replaced your blood?”

“What, no comment on the work of… Donatello? Wasn’t he one of the turtles?”

“You’ve been working on that paper for awhile, maybe you should take a break?”

“Jacob, really. Are you okay?”

“What the hell, mate. What happened?”

Okay, so. They couldn’t do subtle. In their defense, they thought they could. They went in with the best intentions. And, in their defense, their flailing and Jacob’s subsequent snapping, distracting (he was rather adept at it, and if the situation had been literally anything else, Ezekiel would’ve been impressed. The man somehow managed to get all four of them to focus on an artifact shelf for about three seconds. Just long enough for him to vanish) and running away had gotten Eve’s attention.

It took about thirty seconds of her cornering them in the kitchen off the Annex for them to spill everything. It came out in a tumble that they weren’t just riling him up for the hell of it - that they were actually worried, that he was getting worse and they could prove it. Which is about the time they figured out that Jacob had been hiding it a lot better around Eve and Jenkins, go figure.

It took another thirty minutes for them to convince her that they could handle this. Why they were set on handling it themselves… well, that could be answered later, if at all. Definitely not the point right now. And they really only got her to agree with a promise that if they couldn’t, they’d come to her. Which, given their last attempt, was a fair enough deal.

Subtly talking to Jacob was out. Watching him slowly devolve into a painful to watch swing between exhausted stumbling around the Library and manic typing at his desk was out. Cornering the man during regular hours were out (Seriously. It was impressive just how fast he could get out of a conversation.)

When they finally hit on something that worked, they both kind of kicked themselves, because honestly.

They were both in the second floor of the Annex, late at night, brainstorming (and sidestepping a serious conversation neither wanted to have just yet by focusing on how to help the, you know, topic of that conversation. But whatever), when Jacob wandered in through the main door and down the hall. He didn’t seem to notice them, instead heading back into the Library proper - the theatre most likely. Both of them shared a look when he got close enough for them to smell the bar on him - almost as strong as that first night, which sent Ezekiel’s stomach spiraling for a moment. To their relief, he seemed steady on his feet and bright eyed, so. Small blessings at least.

They gave it a minute, having a silent conversation that involved a lot of hand-waving, eyebrow ticks and weird faces before they hauled themselves up and after him, neither particularly enamored with the plan that they had settled on, but having nothing better to fall back on.

Sure enough, they found him in the theatre, the wide screen already playing… something. Some 80s action flick is about all Cassandra can figure. Jacob’s dropped on the couch in the center - one of several Jenkins insists he had nothing to do with getting into the theatre when it became clear that impromptu movie nights were going to be a thing - watching without really seeing anything.

They don’t know what it means, when, when they drop on the couch to either side of him, he takes a moment to just glance at both of them. No distracting, no running. Just a wet, heavy sigh that seems to sink him further into the couch.

They don’t say anything that night. Not when the movie rolls over into another mindless action flick. Not when Jacob’s head ends up on Ezekiel’s shoulder for all of two seconds before he snaps himself back up. Not when he shoves himself up after the third movie and leaves without a word. (And not when he comes in the next morning and refuses to look them in the eye.)

But he comes back that next night. And just like before, they sit with him. They don’t comment on the wet, shuddery breaths he heaves when the movie’s at its loudest. They don’t comment when he gets up - a hand their way to indicate they should stay - and comes back with a mug of coffee, and two cups of tea for them. They don’t comment when he rubs roughly at his eyes and shoves himself up straight, even if he stopped taking in anything on the screen an hour ago. He falls asleep against Cassandra’s shoulder for two minutes before he’s startling awake, shoving himself off the couch and leaving in the next moment.

He comes in late the next morning, looking rough, and worn, and all kinds of beaten down like he hasn’t let himself look these past couple of weeks. He meets their eyes for a breath, when he first gets in, before doing a remarkable impression of being wholly dedicated to his research for the rest of the day. He doesn’t bother to leave that night. Just waits for Eve to go home, Jenkins to disappear wherever it is he goes, and for Flynn to run out the Back Door after who knows what. When the Annex is quiet again, he gets up and heads back to the theatre.

Some silent black and white film is on, when Ezekiel and Cassandra get there.

No one says anything for a long time. Not about how they both sandwich him in closer than they had the nights before. Not about how his breathing has gone wet and heavy, and how they all know that if he had the energy, he’d be sobbing. And definitely about how the movie is switched to something loud and bright and fast without anyone asking, just when Jacob chokes on a rough gasp.

“…We left the cave, right?” It’s a soft question, his voice small and thin like Cassandra and Ezekiel had never heard before - hadn’t thought they could, coming from him. They’re careful not to stare at him - though they share a worried, panicked look over his head. They don’t rush into the reassurances, both holding themselves back just that bit.

They may not be masters at subtlety, but they’ve both had their own share of late nights, heavy moments, curled around themselves and scared, so scared the light the next morning will be wrong because something has so fundamentally changed - nights in hospital beds, soft, cool hands turned acidic on her fragile skin. Evenings in dank motels, in unnamed towns, a sharp weight in his chest, sick curling in his gut, as he realized no one was looking for him - that they knew that rushing in would crack the air around them.

They also know that that’s not the question he wants answered, not really.

“Yeah, we left. Weeks ago.” Ezekiel reassures anyway, voice low and almost lost to the explosions on screen.

“We all did.” Cassandra adds in, just as soft.

Its another long while before anyone speaks again. Long enough that when they look over, Jacob’s eyes are closed and his breathing has evened out, but they don’t dare move.

“It’s too quiet.” Neither of them will own up to startling when he speaks again, eyes still closed. (But, later, when things are better, and he’s willing to joke about this, he’ll insist both of them almost fell off the couch.) “At my apartment. Here. Whatever bar I can find. It’s all too quiet.”

Ezekiel’s the one to recover first, nose scrunched up as he parses his way through that, and about to comment on the loud explosions currently playing on screen.

“Not out here, Jones.” One hand comes up to tap his temple. “I keep thinking.” He pauses, voice catching for a moment before he pulls it together. “I keep thinking. I walked out of that hole. Lied right to his face and kept walking. Kept walking right back into the cave. Had to, right? Everything’s too quiet.” the last word spit out like a curse, a hand brought up over his eyes, as if to keep them closed despite everything. “I keep wondering if I didn’t get locked in there instead. ‘Cause I can’t create anything past this Library Can’t sleep. Can’t get drunk. Can’t… see anything past this.

“You know. My phone used to never shut up. Any time of day, stupid times of night. I’d get something from someone - one of my aunts telling me how the damn door still squeaks despite her son promising to fix it. One of my cousins crowing about a new car part he got for a steal, even if he couldn’t tell his own ass from an actual deal. Fuckin’… one of the guys at the rig, bitching about the hours. Something. But these past couple of weeks? Nothing. I can’t… can’t create anything. So, it’d make sense, right? If I was still stuck down there.” He sounds desperate by the end - not like he believes what he’s saying, but like he almost wants to.

Cassandra and Ezekiel have had years to come to terms with their families. With lost little moments meant to be shared and instead, hidden away. With holidays spent with whatever pockets of warmth they themselves could create. With the aches and pains that came with tumbling onto your own two feet without a helping hand. With looking over their shoulders and seeing empty space where once warm smiles waited for them. They’ve both had months now to get used to looking again - seeing proud smiles and fond, if exasperated, eye rolls.

Realizing Jacob hadn’t been looking, all this time, how he’d kept one foot out the door and planted firmly in the churned up dirt burned yellow by the sun back home… made a whole lot of sense actually.

And also explained how they’d all missed this. Afterall, of all of them, he was the only family man of the group. Not in a healthy way, necessarily - both of them still wanted to go toe to toe with Isaac about a couple of things, if they thought they’d get within ten feet of him with Jacob hauling them back - but definitely in a visceral way.

Having all of that yanked out from under him, after finally standing up to the shadow over his shoulders, after twenty-plus years of leaning so heavily on it, on building his entire self off of it? Adding in what had likely been a week or two of rough nights right after, and who knows how many bars he hit, if he was talking about how he couldn’t drink himself to sleep, yeah, they could see the spiral now, clear as day.

There was another conversation, over Jacob’s head where he’d slipped down farther into the couch, drained and limp from exhaustion, that consisted of more faces and head shakes than was probably wholly necessary. But, another plan was made.

Eve never asked how they fixed things. Which was probably for the best, since, up until it worked, Ezekiel and Cassandra hadn’t really been sure it would.

It had been the little things really, after that night. Invitations for nights out of the Library. Conversations continued over a near never-ending stream of texts, updates about stupid little things meant to make each other smile and laugh. Inviting themselves back to Jacob’s apartment - completely innocently and still completely not subtle, but apparently Jacob had given up completely on shooing the both of them off - for movie nights, where they stayed up later than he did on principle, arguing and chattering about everything and nothing under the sun, not loud, but not doing anything to keep quiet either.

Days out where the entire team did nothing job related. Nights in where they ordered take out, picked an awful movie that no one had seen, and either tore it to pieces or surprisingly loved it.

There were only five of them - and only two who were acutely aware of the actual plan. Maybe three. Who knew what Jenkins knew - but, slowly but surely, that quiet was filled back up. Connections built up, threaded through the Library but existing outside of it.

Things weren’t perfect. They still argued and bickered. They all still ended up hyperfocused on cases and everything narrowed back down to the Library. There were still nights Cassandra and Ezekiel would go looking and find Jacob in the theatre - but they’d take that over the one night they’d tracked him down to a no name dive bar - but always far apart and getting easier and easier to pull him out of.

(It wouldn’t have worked at all, they knew, without Jacob actively picking himself up either, actively trying to connect with the Library and the world again - but they also knew, he would’ve fallen right back down if they hadn’t been there to pick him up and keep him going.)

So, no, things weren’t perfect. But they were getting better. Would continue getting better. The bruises had disappeared from under Jacob’s eyes. Jenkins occasionally tripped over him, asleep, back in the stacks. Flynn occasionally had to tone down his rants towards the ceiling when Jacob was napping at his desk again. Eve got her sparring partner back, at more regular hours - and one that could actually hit now that he was well rested and coordinated again.

(And maybe, eventually, the three of them would stop sidestepping each other and have another conversation. But, one break through at a time.)

#the Librarians #Jacob Stone #my writing #long post #alcohol tw #dissociation tw #if that's even a tag #its not mentioned specifically that that's what's going on #but just in case #Anonymous

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twentysomethinginorlando · 8 years ago

Text

MegaCon Part One: But First, Cosplay

New Post has been published on https://twentysomethinginorlando.com/megacon-part-one-cosplay/

MegaCon Part One: But First, Cosplay

For some reason this year literally everything that could be happening on Memorial Day Weekend is happening on Memorial Day Weekend. One would think without the Disney 24 Hour Day, Orlando might get some peace and quiet but one would be wrong. This year we have Pandora, Volcano Bay, MegaCon, Pirates of the Caribbean 5, and SeaWorld’s new bubble show, just to name a few. Now you might be thinking, “One of those is a movie, that’s not really an important thing happening this weekend.” My friends and I dressed in full pirate garb for Gasparilla, a pirate festival in Tampa, in sixty degree weather, a new Pirates of the Caribbean movie is a very big deal.

To be fair, I really only care about one of these things: MegaCon. MegaCon is the Southeast’s largest nerd convention and brings in thousands of people each year. I’ve been attending every year since 2014. I will admit, I preferred when it was a three day convention that was not held on a holiday weekend, because as someone who works in the hospitality industry it was hard enough to get a three day weekend when it didn’t involve Memorial Day, but clearly the holiday weekend strategy is working for them, since they broke 100,000 guests last year. I originally planned on doing the four day pass for $99 since it was a good deal, but the closer it got to the convention the less time I realized I would have. With only Thursday/Friday off, and my friends wanting to do Pirates Thursday night, I settled on just spending Friday at the con.

Also in my original plans, I was just going to wear my Korra cosplay that I’ve had forever. My friend Polly made it in 2012 for a parody we were working on at the time and since then it’s been to MegaCon twice, Magic Kingdom three times and Hollywood Studios once. I also have a Jedi Korra that’s been to Star Wars Weekends twice and Tampa Bay Comic Con, and Gryffindor Korra for Harry Potter Celebration. If I could have gotten away with making my pirate costume Korra, believe me I would have, but at the time I was on a tight budget and then I came up with the whole mermaid backstory anyway. There is one Korra crossover I’ve been dying to do for years, but never had the resources to do the way I wanted: Kingdom Hearts Korra. Basically what Korra would look like if she appeared in the Kingdom Hearts series, complete with keyblade. My friend Melanie and I were talking about new cosplays I could do, and I tossed out the Kingdom Hearts idea. I did my best to describe to her what I had in mind, since I don’t draw, and it wasn’t like I could do it very well myself. Next thing I knew, she had drawn up concept art for me and it looked amazing. We went fabric shopping and she got started on it the next week. Then our work schedules decided to be polar opposites right up until the con and she had to finish it without me, so we decided I’d pick it up literally on my way to MegaCon.

Robert, Victoria, Jay and I had tickets for the 7 pm showing of Pirates on Thursday night at Disney Springs. Jay and I spent the day at their place working on a variety of costume pieces. I told the boys almost three weeks out I needed a keyblade built, and they of course left it to the last minute and I “only gave them five hours to build it!” Not true at all, I gave them twenty days’ notice. Not my fault they didn’t manage to get together sooner. Okay, it’s probably partially my fault. While they worked on the keyblade, intermittently with working on Jay’s Sith cosplay, I hung out with Victoria and made new hair pieces. I’ve had three different sets of them over the years for different costumes, but I have absolutely no idea where the original ones are, so I just made new ones. I tried something different this time and I’m not sure I like the effect. I usually use cut PVC pipe for the small ones and a coupling for the big one. This time I used couplings for all three of them, and fur for the trim instead of cord. The effect was much larger this time around and while it worked for Kingdom Hearts, I’m going to have to make another set before I break out my standard Korra cosplay again.

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for us!

Around five I told the boys the keyblade was as good as it was going to get, and that it was time to get ready. Victoria had already done my hair and make-up out for the full mermaid effect, and I was borrowing an actual steel-boned corset from her instead of my usual one. Ooof. For once I was really grateful AMC Disney Springs had gone to reserved seating, as it worked out very well in our favor.

Except I accidentally put us on the front row of the balcony, which I love but I’m not sure everyone else liked it. I was really sad Disney didn’t do more for the premier. When Rogue One came out they had droids and characters out at Disney Springs, but we were the only pirates there. At least we looked fantastic.

It was almost eleven by the time we left the Hangar Bar, and I was supposed to be at Melanie’s by 8:30 the next morning. I knew that wasn’t happening, but I managed it by 9:00. I did my make-up in the car, which would have worked great if not for the construction that made eye-liner very difficult. Jay was planning on wearing his Darth Valice cosplay (Valice is an original character he created many moons ago), except we discovered one critical flaw in our planning: most of the Sith had been left at Robert and Victoria’s where they had been working on it while the paint on the keyblade was drying. Whoops. I don’t know how. I thought we got everything. So Jay donned his pirate costume for the second day in a row.

Melanie was in the process of doing her room-mate Liah’s body paint for Ursula, but she was still nice enough to stop to help me with my hair. It takes me about forty-five minutes to do Korra’s three pony tails. It took her about twelve. I love having super talented friends.

With a quick stop at Chick-fil-a for breakfast and a Walgreens for bobby pins (because I forgot them), we were on our way at last.There were shuttles running from the parking garages, but we chose to walk. It was just faster and easier and I didn’t really feel like taking my keyblade on a bus. Getting through doors was hard enough.

We ran into my friend Paul on the walk in. He’s a member of the Improvengers, which I had heard of previously but had no idea he was in until he posted about their show on Facebook. I wanted to stop by but I completely lost track of time and missed it. Then we had to go through prop check. I was really worried because I had read online it would be a sticker and I thought it would take paint off, but it would up being plastic string they could tie around the handle. Jay was mad I wouldn’t let him bring his guns since he painted over the orange tips, but they weren’t checking that closely. I think it worked out though since it meant we could put his phone in the holster instead. I love all the pouches on the pirate costume. Korra has no pockets and nowhere to put anything!

Where I have been to MegaCon for four years now, Jay had never been. He went with me to Tampa Bay two years ago, and he’s been to plenty of other cons around the country, but this was his first MegaCon. I think he had no idea what he was getting into.

Picking up our tickets took no time at all and we headed onto the floor. We were in the middle of the vendor booths, which I like to a point but for the most part you can find all that stuff online pretty easily at major retailers. We had a sword we were looking for that Robert wanted, so we swung by the first sword booth we found with no luck. We had been there for all of five minutes before we got stopped for our first photo.

It is something we’ve gotten very used to over the years, and I try really hard not to say no when people ask for photos but sometimes it’s so hard when you’re in a hurry.

Artist Alley is my favorite part of MegaCon so that’s where we headed first. Melanie and Liah were letting me join them for their photo op with James Marsters and Nicholas Brendan from Buffy (Spike and Xander), but that wasn’t until 12:45 and we still had plenty of time first.

I have been strategically hoarding all my cash for the last several months specifically for MegaCon and spending in artist alley. A lot of the vendors can take credit cards but it’s easier for everyone if you can just pay cash. It also keeps me from overspending because once I’m out, I’m out.

We popped out of the vendor section about a third of the way into Artist Alley. I insisted on going to the far end and working our way down each row. My plan was to look first and then decide what I thought was worth coming back to buy. I’m really bad at impulse buying at cons, and I always feel bad when I look at an artist’s work and then don’t want to buy it. I worry about hurting people’s feelings because you know they poured their heart and soul into whatever they made. So I try to take business cards for everything I really like, and plan to comeback for the good stuff. If I still want it an hour later, it seems more worth it.

In theory.

This quickly got thrown out the window. The aisles were wider this year, which was wonderful, but it made it harder to look at both sides at once. So there were things I missed obviously. Jay stopped me to point out a Moana print and then I froze as I recognized the art. It was Moana as a Waterbender! There’s an artist that I have followed for years that does art of Disney character crossovers as benders, and other crossover art. Moana was the last piece of art so I had to backtrack a few steps to see the rest of the display. It was all the art I’ve been following for years!

“Are you Robby Cook?”

“Yes I am!”

I had to hold in a squeak. I am bad at talking to celebrities and artists. I am so bad at it. I apologized and said, “I’m just trying really hard not to fangirl right now.” Then I told him I’d been following him for years and I approached him about a commission once and he was super awesome and nice, but I couldn’t afford it and I felt bad. I told him he probably didn’t remember me and that was okay, and I didn’t even mention what the commission was in case he did. I’m worried how my last reply came off. He had two prints for $20 so I picked up his Kida/Korra crossover and his Guardians of the Galaxy/Disney crossover, which features Flynn Rider as Star Lord and Stitch as Rocket Raccoon.

We moved on. A spray painted painting of Jack and Sally caught Jay’s eye, and I promised we could come back if he wanted. There were a few booths I was specifically looking for and I just like to browse, you never know what you’re going to find. There was so much amazing stuff, but I’m really REALLY proud of how responsible I managed to be. By that, I mean that I managed not to spend all my money. My only problem is I feel horribly guilty when I look at an artist’s work and I like it, but not enough to buy it. I hate getting their hopes up and it usually leads to me buying things I don’t really want, but last year Kimberly taught me to take business cards and it worked out so much better.

Ashley of Valerious.

We got to the end of a row and saw a large group of cosplayers taking a photo together, and then I realized I recognized Moana as she handed the photographer a business card. It was my friend Ashley, who makes the skirts I wear when I do RunDisney. Better yet, I made those business cards for her!

Her cosplay group Valerious needed them so I volunteered my services. We swapped cards because now I have my own too, and took a quick photo. She looked amazing, but she always does.

I got a text just after noon from Melanie asking me to meet her at 12:30 for the photo. We finished two more rows and then headed towards the celebrity photo op area. We beat her over there, despite getting stopped for multiple photos along the way. Jay and I were taking pictures of each other’s costumes when she caught up to us, and we were second in line for the non-VIP photos. Several people came to take their photos, you don’t see a lot of Ariel and Ursula together, and some of them even wanted me even though I didn’t match. We waited a bit, and waited some more. It was already after 12:45, but the line hadn’t started moving. A man came out to tell us that James was running late, but he was finally in the car. It wasn’t until he stepped behind the curtain we realized it was Xander himself! A moment later we saw James walk by and the VIP line started moving. Then the lady in front of us was up with her baby, and it was super cute because the… I want to say character attendant but this isn’t Disney, handler I guess. The handler was trying to get the baby’s attention with the flashlight on her phone and Nicholas had to ask them to take the photo over because he realized he was looking at the phone instead of the camera. I thought it was really sweet he cared.

We were up in no time at all, and there wasn’t much time to figure out how we wanted to pose. Of course we hadn’t discussed how we were standing previously because that would make too much sense. Melanie wound up in the middle between them and Liah on Xander’s arm, while I got Spike. I was hoping for hugs but I got a hand shake from James before the photo, and Nicholas afterwards, and he called me “darlin'”. Internal squeak. I actually really like the photo ops because they’re so fast they don’t give you time to talk and I can’t make a fool of myself. They had the photo printed immediately as we left and it turned out super well. Liah was sad she hadn’t wound up next to Spike and I felt really guilty since I sort of crashed their photo, but I was also dying slightly of happiness inside.

Me, Spike, Melanie, Xander and Liah.

We went out to find Jay who was waiting with my keyblade. I had elected not to take it in because I just knew I would accidentally hit one of them with it and die of embarrassment. I don’t know if you can kill a vampire with a keyblade, but I just didn’t see it ending well. I met a couple of Melanie’s friends and then we split back up so Jay and I could grab snacks. I wound up taking the photo because we were the only ones with a bag to put it in and we slid it securely between the two Robby Cook prints.

After some rather overpriced snacks and bottles of water, we headed towards the Cosplay Park, a set of themed backgrounds you could take photos with for free. It’s an absolutely brilliant idea and I loved it, but there wasn’t a single background that worked with either of our costumes. I still probably should have taken a few, but I was distracted by the Pikachu bug. That’s probably not its official name, but speaking as someone who has her own nerd car, I was very impressed. (Although admittedly Pikachu merchandise is easier to find than Appa.) I took a picture with it, and I am determined while it might not be my next car, I will own a yellow bug in the future I can Pika out.

We saw the Batmobile which was a photo op for charity, then the Droid Builders area with all sorts of R2-D2s. We had seen several of them beeping around throughout the day, but there were seven or eight all together. Then we found a booth with the TARDIS, a few Daleks, and I squeaked out loud when I saw K-9.

K9 and the Daleks.

From there, we made our way back towards Artist Alley. We knew where we had stopped before, at the fine art cats, and now we were just going to work our way back until we got to that point. I tried to make note of the booths that most interested me so I could find them again. There were some cute Disney parks style buttons, an independent comic that Jay was particularly interested in, bookmarks, and tons of awesome prints. I had my photo taken plenty of times and even found an Aang cosplayer, complete with glider.

A meeting of the Avatars.

Check back for Part Two: Some Heroes Are Worth Meeting in which I talk about the awesome James Marsters panel, meeting my favorite artist Karen Hallion, and talking to the girls from the Hillywood Show. Also I got interviewed by a YouTube gaming channel.

#cosplay #megacon #Adventure Report

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