#she would eat a load of ice cream anyway

[potionsprefect]

It’s been very warm here today and all I’m picturing is Victoria eating loads of ice cream and using her pregnancy as an excuse to justify it lol

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants���apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You’re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

[hannahssimblr]

Pretending to be good at driving isn’t as easy as I assumed. It’s not like pretending to be into wine, or classical music, or other such things that allow you to nod along and smile, and make statements bland enough to seem vaguely knowledgeable. Italians drive on the right, and I’m terrified, yet one of my hands is nonchalantly out the open window of the rental car, resting against warm metal, while the other white knuckles the wheel. Tyres toss dust into the air behind us, and I feel like we’re starring in a film about Americans in southern Italy, where the sky is colour graded cyan blue, and the greens bleached out, dulled to bone dry ochre so that you know it is hot and poor. 

I don’t think I have ever been much of a driver, despite the belief of my classmates back at school who assumed I must be, simply because I owned a car. Yes, I could drive it. I could control the clutch, shift the gears and manoeuvre myself into a parking space with semi-accuracy, but the traffic in Dublin was so diabolical that I spent most of my driving career crawling by, metre by metre, bumper to bumper until I’d give up, pull into the train station and get the DART the rest of the way. The other times, I was having disappointing sex in the passenger seat, or eating ice creams from McDonalds, a dead eyed stare over the bay on Fridays after school, just to have a way to unwind. 

The road to Amalfi is a narrow twist of hairpin turns carved from a mountain, climbing above little towns and a verdant landscape which I picture dried to brush by the time July’s heat comes, a landscape in sepia tones.

Warm, dry air kisses my sweat dampened skin as I climb out of the car to the smell of the sea. Salt and seaweed, and fish, from a seafood restaurant by the water. Waves lap against the shore in a gentle symphony as seagulls circle above the vibrant hum of a busy tourist town. 

The first thing Astrid wants to do is take photographs. And so, she perches on a low wall, against a backdrop of azure waters and green capped mountains, and poses for the camera. I take several, in a variety of positions, and indulge her whims by digging her straw hat out from the car boot so that she can pose with it, one hand on the brim as she looks out over the Tyrrhenian sea like it is her kingdom. 

I get her to take some with me, too, using the front facing camera on my phone, then choose one to send to my mother. 

We’re in Italy. Wonderful. Enjoy. 

I suspect it will be weeks before we communicate again. 

“It looks like it did on the website, anyway,” I say, as I unload our cases outside our villa. It is loaded with picturesque, old-world charm, the brick exterior crumbling slightly from salt and age. We decided that a villa with a pool would suit us best when I booked it, surmising we would appreciate a swim before breakfast under the morning sun. I gaze at my reflection now, a ripple of dark hair against the cloudless sky and take a moment to relax my shoulders, and thank God it will be ten days before I have to drive those perilous roads again.

 Our footsteps echo against the hallway tile. Astrid gazes around her as I haul our bags upstairs. 

“It’s quite nice,” she says, an understatement that incites a chuckle from me. This is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed at, including a family member’s desert guest house in Palm Springs. It is perfect. From behind the wrought iron banisters I spy a small living room, white linen couches and a bowl of fresh oranges on the table, and suspect they are from the tree outside. 

“It’s a marvellous view from here,” Astrid says at the bedroom window while I roll the last of our cases across the floor towards the wardrobe. I won’t want to unpack them. I usually live out of my bags while I’m travelling, but I suspect Astrid will like things hung up and put away. With the heat and the exhaustion from travelling, I cannot face the thought. I join her at the window, where we look out upon a small dock, little coloured boats floating in water so serene, so clear that we can see their shadows at the bottom of the sea.

“Woah, yeah. It’s pretty here, huh?”

“I told you that,” she says, leaning into my chest. “I think this is the best place in the world.” 

“Touristy, though, don’t you think?” Across the little bay, the coastal road is traffic jammed, holidaymakers weaving between the cars. A tour yacht glides by, its linen clad passengers pointing their cameras toward the charming little houses that cling to the mountainside, including ours. I raise my hand to wave at them, though I’m certain they cannot see us. 

“We are tourists too,” she points out. “It’s good for the economy. If we weren’t here, the restaurants and craft shops would have to close.”

I hum in vague agreement, caught in between two ways of thinking. Jonas paced my room as I packed my bags for the airport, giving me a spirited, if not slightly manic, lecture about the perils of tourism, from environmental degradation, cultural disruption, exploitation and overcrowding. 

“Shut up,” I said. “You and I are going to Thailand in June.” And he argued it was different, because he had intentions of learning about the cultures and traditions, and being respectful, unlike all the other tourists, trying to take pictures in the temples with their shoes still on and eating in Subway instead of trying a new cuisine. 

Still, the conversation has left me with a vague feeling of nuisance I’ve never experienced while travelling abroad. I look around this bedroom, the voile curtains fluttering in the breeze that floats through the open balcony door, and fear I am gentrifying the town just by standing here. What if they hate me, the locals, and the chino trousers in my suitcase, the way my hair is pushed back, my trendy little sunglasses? I couldn’t even ask for water in Italian if I wanted to.

But Astrid can. Perfect, clever Astrid. She gazes at her appearance in the mirror, and smooths out her dress, which shows no signs of having been travelled in. She combs her fingers through her pin straight hair, and a strand comes loose, floating through the sun rays like a strand of white silk. 

I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her neck. “This is a great room, hm?”

“Yes, it’s spacious.”

“We could spend a lot of time in here.” I slide my hand over her ribs and cup her breasts. She sighs and lifts them away. “Don’t. Not now. We’ll put creases in the fabric.”

“You can change into another outfit.” God knows, she has packed enough clothes. 

She twists out of my arms and opens her suitcase on the bed, retrieving her toothbrush. “I don’t feel clean after travelling. I’d need time to have a shower and freshen myself up first.”

To this, I laugh. “I don’t really care about that, to be honest. Like, I’ll go down on you no matter–”

“Well, I do.” She pushes through to the adjacent bathroom. The tap squeaks, and water splashes into the sink. “I want to see the town, anyway. I don’t want to waste the day in bed together.”

“I never think a day is wasted like that.”

“Well, we can do it later. Perhaps after dinner.”

“Very organised,” I say, and she doesn’t respond. She’s brushing her teeth. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[pockyteau]

SUMMER AND STRAWBERRY CAKE

✩ chishiya x reader where there is an abundance of strawberry cake, and also a blonde customer that just keeps coming back

You remember the customer that always orders the strawberry cake. 

You had taken up a part-time job working the register at a café run by family friends of yours as a summer pastime, delighting in the chance to be around desserts as well as being able to earn some money on the side. Occasionally, you were even given the option to take any leftover treats home at the day's end, which you gladly accepted - you were particularly fond of the summer specials offered in the café, the desserts and drinks often featuring pink strawberries dusted with icing sugar. Your favourite of these was definitely the strawberry shortcake, a simple cake layered with cream and red fruit.

It was also because of this you began to take notice of the cafe's recurring blonde customer, who frequently came in just late enough to grab the slice you had been hoping to take for yourself. 

This customer, who you and the rest of the staff had come to refer to as 'Strawberry Cake' (or less colloquially, 'The Strawberry Cake Guy'), came in almost every second day to order your beloved dessert. He had shoulder-length blonde hair and a somewhat amused quality about the way he spoke, his lips quirking at the corners during the small pleasantries you exchange with him while taking his order. However, you found it strange - you didn't consider him to be arrogant, as his manner would suggest, but became curious about him instead. The strawberry cake he bought in bulk seemed out of character for someone like him, anyway.

"Would you mind closing up today?" your co-worker gives you an apologetic smile, and you assure her that you wouldn't mind at all. It's just about time that Strawberry Cake pays the café a visit, after all, and perhaps he will give you the shock of the century by ordering something different. 

"Go ahead," you reply, taking her apron from her with a smile of your own. "I've got time to spare, anyway."

You help her package one of the other summer specials for her own family, an assortment of neat little strawberry and custard tarts. To your knowledge she has two children, both of which you've seen visiting the café before. She thanks you and takes the pink confectionary box from you, before leaving the café in a flurry of dessert and puffy coat. 

It's late when a familiar blonde head appears in the doorway of the café, letting the glass door swing shut on its own. You give him a warm smile and he dips his head slightly, coming to the counter to take his order. You shoot a quick glance at the dessert display case - two slices of strawberry cake left. Your customer service smile changes to an I'm-taking-cake-home smile, and the blonde seems to notice the slight change in your expression. His lips curve slightly upward with that amused quality, and you try not to look embarrassed.   

"Hey! It's nice to see you again," you offer, indicating the display case with another smile since you already know his order. "Will it be strawberry cake again today, then?"

A huffed laugh escapes his lips. "That's the one." Your blonde customer's voice is rather throaty, low and teasing in a way that makes you admittedly look forward to the small snatches of conversation that occur between the two of you. "It seems you've got me figured out already."  

"Ah, it's the psychic powers you get from working in a café." You laugh as you carefully transfer a slice of cake into one of the café takeout boxes. Unsurprisingly, your blonde customer never eats in the café. "Well, why not surprise me for once? We've got loads of summer specials, if it's the strawberries you're after."

He hums, surveying the glass display case with half-lidded eyes. "I'll give it some thought."

"Glad to hear it." you grin. He slides cash over the counter and you hold out the pink confectionary box for him to take - his hands close over the box's handles, warm over your own hands before you quickly let go in surprise. The way his eyes flicker to yours momentarily, almost as if he was expecting your reaction, makes you wonder whether the fleeting touch was intentional. You blink, quick to compose yourself as he turns away.

"Oh! wait a second!" You reach over to catch the tip of his sleeve, careful not to pull the fabric. Now was as good a time as any to ask, you decide. He looks back over to you, a trace of impatience flickering over his eyes, but you do your best to remain undeterred. "Would it be alright if I got your name? Since I see you so often, I thought it might be better if I could address you properly."

"My name?" The blonde tilts his head at you, his expression easing. When you nod, he hums thoughtfully. "Didn't you say you had psychic powers?" he points out with a smirk, his tone more amused than anything else. "Well, if you really want to know, why don't you use those abilities of yours to find out?"

"You want me to guess?" You laugh. "Hmm...I'm afraid I only know you as 'Strawberry Cake', so that's about as good as it'll get from me."

Your response brings his brows higher; you notice the way his lips twitch, and for a moment you think he may actually laugh. His reaction to the nickname brings another smile to your face, waiting as he carefully picks out a composed response. "You call me...strawberry cake?" 

You gesture lightly to the confectionary box in his hand. "Ordering the same thing every time you come in does give you a bit of a reputation, you know."

He snorts. "I see. I'll keep that in mind, I guess."

"Well, if not Strawberry Cake, what should I call you?" you venture, still hoping to achieve your objective.  After a moment's pause you add on as an afterthought, "although, now that I think about it, 'Strawberry Cake' is pretty cute." 

"Yes, very charming," he says, his tone dry - yet you are sure you can the the ghost of a smile around the corners of his lips. "But Chishiya is fine."

"Chishiya?" you smile. His name, albeit slightly odd, does suit him better than the dessert he frequently purchases. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Chishiya."

He only waves his hand in dismissal at the nicety as he turns away again, ready to leave, although you swear you can see the amused expression gracing his features before he is gone. You let him leave this time, watching as he steps out of the warmth of the café. Perhaps it's just the sensation of achievement, having finally found out the name of your strawberry cake customer, but a sense of satisfaction settles over you as the door closes behind him with a quiet click. His name, Chishiya, lingers in your mind long after he is gone.

And for whatever reason, the feeling of his hands on yours returns to you briefly as you box up a cake-slice of your own. -

When Chishiya had refused the take-out box for his slice of cake, instead informing you that he would be taking one of the tables at the far end of the café, you had stared at him in disbelief. 

The blonde had simply snorted, taking his plate from you and leaving you to wonder why he had suddenly decided to eat in the café for once. 

With the sky darkening outside, it's just the two of you in the café. There are two slices of strawberry cake left in the display case, and with such little to do and an undetermined amount of time before you can close up the café, you decide to eat one of the two last slices. Surely no one will mind, since you'd most likely be closing up soon; Chishiya is usually the last customer of the day, and it's unusual for anyone to come in so late in the afternoon anyway.

From the counter you can see that the blonde has papers spread over his table, his cake placed carefully to the side, and he studies them with a pencil in hand. You hesitate for a moment, dithering on the spot before taking your cake and making your way over to the blonde's table. You decide that if you had to wait for him to finish before you could go home yourself, you might as well go and acquaint yourself with the cafe's regular. 

You'd be seeing a lot more of him anyway, since there was still plenty of summer yet.

"Hey! Is it okay if I sit here?"

Chishiya looks up at your question, and although he raises his eyebrows slightly, he nods and you take a seat in the chair opposite him. You don't want to move the papers he has spread over the table and so you hold your plate of cake above your lap as you eat. It's a bit awkward, you'll admit, but neither of you seem to mind. You peer over at the documents Chishiya is annotating; his handwriting, doctor's scrawl that you can't make out, fills the margin of text you are able to catch a few words from. 

Systemic anatomy, you read, chewing on a slice of strawberry. You mentally run through the fields of study that would involve such a subject. He's a...medical student? You trace the movement of Chishiya's pencil with a small smile. It somehow doesn't surprise you that this would be the type of material he was studying. You attempt to read the rest of the text, unaware that Chishiya has stopped writing.

"Do you call every customer here by what they order?" 

"...Sorry?"

You look up from Chishiya's papers in astonishment, surprised that he would be the one to break the silence first. He looks back, leaning into the back of his chair with his brows raised expectantly.

You stare at him, before you begin to laugh.

"Were you really bothered by the name?" You wave your fork in disbelief, your bubble of laughter subsiding into a wide grin. Considering the answer to the question might be yes, you then attempt to apologise, but you can't keep the lilt out of your voice as you speak. "Ah, sorry. Maybe I shouldn't be laughing, then," you offer. His question was an unexpected one - Chishiya seemed to be the kind of person to be unaffected by nicknames given to him by café staff. Except, when you look closer at his expression you see the slight smirk upon his lips. So he is amused, you think.  

The man sitting opposite you shrugs, although his smirk never lessens. "You tell me," he says, and raises a forkful of his own cake to his mouth. With a glance to Chishiya's plate you notice that he has separated the strawberry slices topping his cake from the cake itself and lined them along the edge of the plate, scooping up one for each forkful of cake. You find yourself thinking the action is uncharacteristically cute, in contrast to Chishiya's more collected appearance.

"Well," you begin, munching thoughtfully, "we know the names of most of our regulars, so I think it might just be you."

Chishiya snorts. "Lucky me." 

You smile. "I mean, you never gave us your name, right? So there wasn't much to go off besides your order." 

"I suppose," Chishiya says, before taking another somewhat sardonic bite of his cake. "Well. Am I at least 'Chishiya' now, then?" He feigns exasperation, tilting his head to the side as if waiting sullenly on your answer. You feel the smile again on your face before you know it's there - the blonde is able to make you laugh more than you'd expected, his sarcastic nature perfectly suited to his personality. You shake your head.

"Oh no, you're still Strawberry Cake to the rest of the staff," you say teasingly, the undertones of your voice dancing as you speak. "Honestly, I can't see why you don't like it. It's so cute."

"Is that so?" The blonde sets down his fork, the playful look you are slowly growing accustomed to returning to his face. "You think it suits me, then?" 

"Hey, I never said that," you say, although the retort comes out more gentle than jesting. You stifle a yawn, the ticking of time causing you to speak in more subdued tones. You wonder whether you should supply an additional quip to drive the point home - except, another glance to the strawberries on his plate and you think that it just might suit him after all.  

Chishiya chuckles, moving to sift through the papers spread over the tables. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "I think I should get a discount on my cake, what with all the insultery going on." 

"Pay for your cake, Chishiya."

"It was worth a shot."  -

"Honey toast?" Chishiya comments, peering over his strawberry cake at your own plate opposite to his. 

"Mhm," you say through a mouthful of the sugary toast. You swallow before speaking again, Chishiya smirking at you in a way that clearly said speaking with your mouth full?  "I used to eat it all the time as a kid. My mother used to take me out to buy it from the street vendors when I still lived in Tokyo."

You had passed the same vendor on your way to work that morning, and after a lengthy chat had decided to buy some to eat later in the day. Since it was late now, as it always was whenever Chishiya visited the café, you had decided to eat your honey toast instead of your usual strawberry cake. 

The honey toast, a thick slice of bread toasted golden with honey and dusted with cinnamon and powdered sugar, reminded you of childhood - to this day, your parents would still buy some for you when you came home for the holidays. Back when you were younger, the scent of honey had a stronghold over you and every other kid in the neighbourhood. It was a simple treat, though one that sat tucked away in your memories like a little golden star, your fondness for the toast ever growing. 

"You attend university out of the city?" Chishiya asks curiously, the strawberry on his fork paused before his lips as he asks the question just as you take another bite of your toast. You squint at him as you chew, sure that he has done this on purpose, but he merely puts a forkful of cake into his mouth with his brows raised in amusement as he waits for your answer. 

"In Osaka," you confirm, after swallowing, "but my parents still live here. So I come back during breaks to visit." 

"I see." Chishiya's half-lidded gaze flickers for a moment, just barely enough for you to notice. "Isn't that lovely." Despite the change in his expression, his voice is still teasing as ever. You give a small nod, although you're still curious about the sudden change in his demeanor. He catches the look you give him and tilts his head at you, swiveling the fork resting between his fingers to point in your direction. "Yes? What's the look for?" 

You blink. "Oh! It's nothing," you say quickly, setting your fork down. You pick it back up again after a second and cut another square out of your honey toast distractedly. You can tell Chishiya's interest has already drifted away, your peripheral vision depicting the blonde separating the strawberries from his cake. You hesitate, cutting your toast into an even smaller slice. "Do you...see your parents often?" 

"My parents?" Chishiya looks up from his cake, setting his own fork down. The strawberries previously on his cake are now all lined along the edge of his plate. He leans back in his chair thoughtfully, steepling his fingers. "No," he says casually, "I don't. I only ever really knew my father, and we don't speak now." His voice is perfectly even, almost conversational. You feel your expression soften at his words.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you murmur, but Chishiya gives you a dry smile. 

"Don't be," he shrugs. "He wasn't much of a father, anyway." 

Chishiya returns to eating his cake nonchalantly, as if the previous conversation never took place. But you can't let go of what he'd said so easily, the careless tone of his voice pricking something within you. You want to at least give him a hug, or something of the sort, but you doubt Chishiya would want that. You chew the inside of your cheek, deliberating on what to say.  

Eventually, you break the silence. "I'll pay for your cake today, Chishiya," you say, even as you hear your wallet make sounds of distress.

Chishiya looks at you, a hint of surprise tinting his features before the smirk spreads across his face. "Oh, really?" he says, his eyes glinting. "Maybe I should talk about my father more often, then, if it gets me free cake."

You can't help but snort, your sympathy already beginning to fade as you grab your empty plate and stand up. There goes 250 yen, gone with the wind. Only, the grin on Chishiya's face is infectious, and you find yourself laughing. "You're making me regret my decision already."

"Oh no, I'm very upset right now. So much so that the only thing that could console me is another slice of free cake."

"Don't push it, Chishiya."

-

"You're in early today, Chishiya," you comment, giving the blonde a smile in greeting as he slips through the cafe's glass door. 

"Mm. I thought I might come in before class." He says, leaning his folded arms onto the countertop. You nod and begin to reach for the display case, but he stops you with a slight glint in his eye. "I was thinking it might be a good time to try something new, considering the unfortunate reputation I've gained here."

You blink. "Oh my god."

Within the hush that falls over the café you can practically hear universes implode and galaxies collide, because Chishiya Shuntaro is about to change his order. You stare at him, raising one hand to your mouth in mock disbelief. "Did i just hear you correctly? No strawberry cake today?" You hover your free hand suspiciously over the display case, the other still suspended over your lips. "Who even are you?"

"Your favourite customer, of course," he quips, grinning. "If you have any recommendations, I'm all ears."

"Hold on, I need to get out my calendar to mark this momentous occasion. And you're really not kidding?" 

"I can take my business elsewhere, you know."

"Okay, okay! Just, give me a second to get the menu. Wow. Hey, don't leave!"

In the end, after much deliberation, you press a square slice of the cafe's summer matcha cake into his hands. The cake, layered with matcha cream and dusted with matcha powder, is topped with a small, red strawberry. Since you are at least sure of Chishiya's fondness for strawberries, you tell him you are sure he will thoroughly enjoy the dessert you have presented him with. 

"Because you like strawberries!" You tell Chishiya, who looks back at you with an amused expression. "Ah, and, I was also hoping you might try one and tell me what you think? I'm a bit out of practice with baking."

"You made this?" Chishiya examines the matcha cake, raising his brows. You nod in affirmation - trying your hand at baking had led to the matcha cakes being a new summer installation in the café, courtesy of your family friend; while not especially difficult to make, you were proud enough seeing the little squares of matcha dessert in the display case. Chishiya gives a noncommittal hum, turning the cake slightly as if closely inspecting it. 

"I'm not really a matcha person," he muses, although the curve in his lips tells you otherwise. You snort.

"Regardless, that'll be 250 yen." 

Later, when you'd inquired after Chishiya's liking of the matcha cake, he had responded with: "It was okay." A lackluster response that had slightly disappointed you - but despite Chishiya's complaints, he began to purchase the matcha cake almost as frequently as he did the strawberry cake. You pretend to tease him for it, but you can tell the golden glow in your chest slips through into your voice and fingertips as you hand over the confectionary box. 

"Wow, Strawberry Cake changed his order? Never thought I'd see the day." Your co-worker comments after Chishiya has left, and you wonder if you've been smiling all too much lately as you replace the empty matcha doily in the display case. 

-

On your last day at the café, Chishiya comes in with a confectionary box of his own.

You inquire about it jokingly as he places it before you on the counter. The pink skies outside are melting away and the two of you are the only people present in the café once more, your co-worker having squeezed your arm gently in goodbye as she'd packed up her strawberry and custard tarts earlier that afternoon. Summer is drawing to a close, and she makes you promise to return to the café as soon as your university goes on break again.

"You're buying cake from another store? Gosh, I almost can't handle the betrayal," you tease, examining the box. Unlike the confectionary boxes from your café, this box is white and marked with curly lettering. You catch a glimpse of strawberry within the box's see-through plastic panel. "Wow, the box is lovely, though."

Chishiya rolls his eyes, ignoring your quip and pushing the box forward slightly with his index and middle fingers. "It's your last day, right? It's for you."

You blink. "You bought me cake?" Although the gesture is nice, you wonder whether he hasn't realised that you do, in fact, work at a café. As if sensing your thoughts, he taps the box.

"Just open it," he insists. Then, after a moment's pause, he shrugs. "Or, I can always take it back, if you want." 

"No, no, I'm opening it now." You hastily pull the box towards you, and Chishiya smirks. Ignoring the smug look on the blonde's face you carefully unhook the box's card slots, folding the top of it back to reveal the cake Chishiya has brought you. A soft laugh escapes your lips as you look at the dessert in your hands. 

"Strawberry cake?" You glance up at the blonde with a smile. It is strawberry cake, but different to the one the two of you usually eat - the layered cream is pink and the strawberries are cut into heart-shapes, pressed into the top of the slice. Your grin widens in Chishiya's direction. "Strawberry cake with hearts?"

"It looked like something you would like," he says impassively, although he avoids your gaze.

"Aw, Chishiya, that's so sweet." You look back down at the cake in your hands, the grin still glowing upon your lips. "And it looks delicious. Here, you take some, since you bought it." Looking at Chishiya's gift causes a strange twinge of melancholy in your chest, and you busy yourself with searching for cutlery to distract yourself from it. "What am I going to do without you in Osaka, hmm?"

"Oh, right," Chishiya peers over the counter as you rummage around for forks. "You're going back to Osaka." You nod, presenting him with the piece of silverware. His blonde hair falls forward slightly as he reaches for it, and you blink at the sudden urge to reach over and tuck it behind his ear. "When do you leave?"

"Hm? When do I leave?" You repeat his question distractedly. Chishiya sends you a humorous glance, and you narrow your eyes at him. It's just the familiarity, you tell yourself.  "Ah, I leave tomorrow. I'm back in Tokyo for the longer holidays, though, like now. Stop eating all the strawberries."

"I see. My money bought these strawberries, thanks." Chishiya says, swatting your fork away as you poke at his.  

"I was under the impression that this was a gift," you say wryly. 

"Who said that?"

"You did!"   

"Don't recall," he says, chewing mildly, and you slide the cake away from him in mock exasperation. 

Despite this, the two of you share the rest of the cake without much further issue, and once the final crumb is gone you have to close up the café for the last time. You'll leave for Osaka tomorrow, and spend your last night in Tokyo with your parents when you get home. Chishiya waits outside the store for you, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. The air has an unusual chill to it for a summer night.

"You know, I'm going to miss you." He remarks with a grin as you lock the store doors. "Where will I get my matcha cakes now?" 

"Come back for Christmas," you say with a laugh. "I'll make whatever matcha you want."   

He hums, peering down the street for any signs of cars. The streetlights cast a gentle glow over his features, making his expression appear softer than usual. "I'll be holding you to that, then."

"Good," you say, and the return of that gentle twinge of melancholy that occurs in your chest as the words leave your lips make you realise you really mean what you say. How do you say goodbye to someone you'd grown so used to over a the span of a month? 

You hear the blonde chuckle beside you at your response; judging by the way Chishiya is glancing down the street, the two of you will walk home in opposite directions. After this, you won't see him for at least another six months - even though it's irrational, the thought lingers in the back of your mind that he might forget you. You figure that, since you leave tomorrow, you'll allow yourself to utter the soft words that come next. "Ah, but there's just one more thing."

He tilts his head at you curiously, the forever amused look still dancing across his features when you lightly press a kiss to his cheek. You draw away just as quickly, holding back a smile at the way Chishiya blinks at you in surprise. "I'm going to miss you too, you know," you shrug, mimicking his usual stance. "You're my favourite customer, after all."

Chishiya's eyes crinkle as he laughs, a genuine and slightly reserved kind you've never heard from him until now, and you feel your heart melt completely. "Your favourite customer, hm?" he says, and you complain that really wasn't the point through the hand you raise to hide your smile - but you already can't wait for the next holiday, when you'll come back to Tokyo and work at the café again. There won't be strawberries anymore, with the coming of a new season, but maybe Chishiya will find a new favourite dessert. You'll be there to tease him for it, in any case.

"Look, you'd better be coming back for Christmas."

"I just told you I would, didn't I?" 

[jigglypuff1994]

Okay, so, I'm sorry if this idea has already been put out there, but I love the idea of post Monarch, young LadyNoir going to Disney.

Hear me out.

Chat Noir booked the flights, took care of the hotels and transportation while they're there. And Ladybug is absolutely stunned because like how can he afford to do this? And Chat is just being cheeky like 'tehehe I have my ways'.

Even though Chat and LB were offered a free day at Disney, Chat Noir insists that he should pay to experience just like everyone else, and since he can afford it, he pays for everything. Ladybug doesn't know that he's absolutely loaded so she's just confounded every time he pulls out hundred-dollar bills as if it was something everyone did.

Ladybug would be scrambling constantly to ensure she and Chat do every. possible. activity. Like they rope-dropped at 7am. LB's absolutely losing her mind on Genie+ and has done hundreds of hours of research watching Youtubers and reading every blogger and tips and tricks guide out there to ensure the one day they have together is undeniably picture perfect.

At some point, Chat Noir talks to Ladybug and tells her gently to chill out, she is finally able to relax and realizes how magical the experience is.

Chat Noir proceeds to stuff his face with anything Mickey-shaped: pretzels, ice cream bars, caramel apples, rice crispy treats, everything Mickey shaped. While having no concern for his figure because they're walking a million steps anyways.

Ladybug takes so many pictures and a video when Chat Noir meets his favorite Disney character, Rapunzel. Chat becomes absolutely giddy and beside himself. Him and Rapunzel talk about what it's like to be locked away in a castle and preoccupying themselves with all their indoor activities while dealing with manipulative parent figures, and Ladybug tilts her head for a moment because why does that sound so familiar.

Ladybug is put on edge every time fans want photos with them. She anxiously smiles too wide because she's stressed that her and Chat might not make it from Tomorrowland to Frontierland in 3 minutes time. Chat, who is aware how stressed his lady is, has to nicely remind their fans that they have a scheduled itinerary that Ladybug is absolutely *not* budging on.

Chat suggests that he and LB use the rooftops to get around rather than walking. LB lights up immediately because why didn't she think of that earlier!

Chat insists on taking a selfie with Ladybug in front of the Cinderella castle, and Ladybug sneaks a quick cheek kiss. This is the only cute photo where Chat is stunned and doesn't have his large, toothy smile. That photo ends up being Ladybug's favorite of the hundreds they took together that day because reasons.

To end their day, they sit on top of the Main Street rooftop above Tony's, eating spaghetti and meatballs like Lady and the Tramp because LB will always be 'His Lady', and he rolls the meatball over with his nose to recreate the movie while Ladybug rolls her eyes, gives him a small smile and scratches behind his ears. They cuddle in close while listening to 'When You Wish Upon a Star,' and the view is breathtaking as they watch the fireworks and lightshow on the castle.

Just a cute, magical day at Disney.

[nitewrighter]

Do you think that the other characters forget Efi is only 12 (I think). Like she and Torbjorn spend the day going over super complicated schematics (and she even corrects him once or twice) then she puts on Power Puff Girl pajamas, watches Bluey while eating ice cream before bed? Could we get some fanteractions between her and the others?

I don't know if I discussed it on twitter or on here, but actually in the novel The Hero of Numbani, one of the things I thought was a really cute little world-buildy touch about how Efi interacts with the world at her age is that she often finds herself in these adult spaces, and the adults around her are drinking coffee, and they're like "uhhhh here" and they keep giving her coffee that's like... 50% milk and loaded with sugar--like it's clear they didn't really expect a kid to be in this situation and they're awkwardly doing what they can to try and accommodate her, and she partially recognizes that and also pushes boundaries and feels this need to prove herself.

Also like, 12 isn't really a "powerpuff girl pajamas and Bluey" age, 12 is like.. the age where you semi-convince yourself that you could probably stop arterial bleeding with your little bare 12-year-old hands if the situation called for it. 12 is when you're in a fucked up simultaneous state of "World is big and scary and my body is starting to do things I did not give it permission to do and I'm not ready" and also "I'm Nancy Drew levels of hypercompetent and you can't stop me." Ideally, 12 is where you're starting to push your own boundaries more and more but you're also kind of struggling with the fact that you are outgrowing things you used to really care about. You aren't quite at that asshole stage of "expanding independence but with very little concept of consequences" yet, but it is an age where you are grasping more and more complex concepts. But also your brain is still struggling to really make a leap into abstract/symbolic thinking, which is why algebra really sucks at that age. But again, Efi is a super-genius so developmentally she's at an even crazier intersection of what she can and can't do compared to her peers.

I got off track. Anyway here's Efi interactions.

----

Sojourn: ...You um, you don't have to stand all the way over there. I don't bite.

Efi: *awkwardly shuffles toward her*

Sojourn: ...

Efi: ...

Sojourn: Soooo---?

Efi: *hoarse whisper* You're so much cooler than in the cartoons.

Sojourn: *snrk* I was this cool the whole time.

---

Sojourn: So, I guess I should say, there's really no pressure here. If you did choose to join us, you would just be here as a consultant, and--*deep breath* Okay, the thing is, with Liao gone, you're actually one of the leading minds in the world on AI learning systems, and the way things are with Null Sector, we need to be better at anticipating their next moves. I don't want to put that pressure on you, but given everything you and Orisa have done for Numbani, your willingness to work with Lúcio before, and the position we're currently in, we would be honored if we could get your perspective on certain pieces of intel we have now.

Efi: ...

Sojourn: I get it, it's a very scary situation, and if you just want to stay with your parents and the rest of the civilians, we'll still do everything in our power to keep you safe. Orisa is proving to be an incredible asset on her own. Really, Lúcio just remarked that you seemed very passionate about protecting your home, so if you would be interested in the chance to do that on a larger scale--

Efi: Do I have access to the armory?

Sojourn: Eh--?

Efi: Oh it's not for me, it's for Orisa.

Sojourn: Uhm...

Efi: :)

Sojourn: *clicks tongue* Um--You know what? I'm going to call your parents because there are about 90 more parameters in this situation I need to figure out.

Efi: Oh! They're fine with me having access to the armory.

Sojourn: Yeeahhh I think i'm going to ask them myself.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Eddie + 🌭🍕🍔🌮

lol i wrote most of this while i had really bad munchies 😂 it definitely didn’t help

also i’m sorry it’s so long, i got really carried away with this one 😅

You and Eddie had been thinking about something new to try out for your date nights

You wanted to keep things interesting and do things different than just your normal dates

Eddie had been thinking all day about what you could do together, but as much as he hated to admit it, money was short and he felt bad for not being able to treat you like he used to

But he knew that it wasn’t about the money you spent, it was about spending time with one another

He didn’t care what you did together, just as long as he could do it with you

And after thinking he finally came up with the perfect plan to incorporate your favorite dates into one

He knew you loved snuggle dates, curled up under a blanket with lots of snacks, the lights turned low, a scary movie on the TV to give him the perfect opportunities to hold you when you got too scared

And he loved getting to go out to eat whenever you could, seeing a new small restaurant pop up on your drives home and he would insist you go the very next day to be able to try it together

He wanted to make it a little surprise for you, and spent the rest of the day preparing everything for it

He wrote all the specific places you could go onto little pieces of paper and placed them each into Wayne’s mugs

Coffee shops, fast food places, ice cream stores, snack snacks

Every place he could think of around Hawkins that you could stop at for food all being placed into their specific categories: drinks, appetizers, dinner, dessert.

And he was so excited to see your reaction

As soon as you came over he welcomed you with a kiss like always and he quickly picked you up and brought you to the couch

In front of you were the mugs and he looked so smiley and happy while you were sitting there confused on the couch

Once you asked him what the pieces of paper in the mugs were for he finally explained

He wanted to have a fun dinner with you and get every course at a different place, all of them would be random since you were grabbing them from the mugs and after you got everything you’d come right back to the trailer to eat and watch a movie

You were so excited for your date night, and you could see how excited Eddie was too

He often likes to plan fun dates like this and every time you were so grateful to have a boyfriend put this much effort into your date nights

He waited for you to pull out slips of paper from each mug and watched with anticipation as you reached a hand into each one

Each time you pulled out a piece of paper you felt your heart race with excitement, wanting to know where you and Eddie were headed first

For drinks you were going to be stopping at a smaller place that Eddie’s shown you, a drink stand ran by an older lady just down the street

You couldn’t wait, you’ve been dying to go back since he first took you there

The older woman had the best fresh strawberry lemonade you’ve ever had and she even sold her fresh fruits at the same stand

Maybe you’d be able to convince Eddie to buy you some fresh fruit if you were nice enough

For appetizers you were stopping into the snack bar at the bowling alley, which confused you at first until you remembered just how amazing all their snacks were

Whatever grease they had used in the fryer had to have been there since it opened for them all to taste that good

Cheese curds, mini corn dogs, french fries, onion rings, fried pickles, all the best fried appetizer foods you could think of

Eddie always went nuts for their loaded fries anyways so you knew he was looking forward to that

For dinner you were going to be grabbing some takeout from a chinese restaurant a little further into town, but this wasn’t just any chinese restaurant

it was THE chinese restaurant

Family owned, smaller place, and all the food is homemade recipes that taste absolutely delicious

Lastly, you were going to swing inside Scoops Ahoy to get some ice cream for dessert

You were just hoping that Eddie wouldn’t get too distracted by all the other stores in the mall

And he had gotten you two some adorable pajamas to change into while you grabbed your food

And of course they matched!

You had gotten changed into your matching pajamas and Eddie looked so excited seeing you in yours

They were simple, black and white plaid pajama pants and a black shirt, but it was so adorable that he got them just for tonight

You got into his van and went off to the first stop: drinks

Your eyes lit up the moment you saw it up the road

The little old lady that ran it was sitting out with her fan and a sweet smile on her face, saying hello to you and Eddie as she saw you approaching

She always told her friends about the nice young couple that always liked to pay her visits

You and Eddie grabbed your drinks from her, for you a strawberry lemonade of course and Eddie got himself something from her recommendation

She said it was called an Agua Fresca and it was absolutely delicious!

(Eddie got the biggest size she had since he knew you would be stealing sips from it all night)

Your next stop was the bowling alley for your appetizers and on your walk in you got a few stares from the other patrons

Little kids giggling and their parents smiling at you and Eddie in your matching pajamas as you walked up to the snack bar

You both glanced over the menu before approaching and you both decided to get something for yourselves and one thing to share

Eddie got a side of onion rings for himself, you ordered mozzarella sticks, and got a side order of the fries for you both to share

The worker at the counter did give you two a strange look when he saw you weren’t wearing any bowling shoes or you definitely weren’t dressed for bowling, but he didn’t pay any kind to it

He was just happy the two of you were nice enough to tip him afterwards

You went back to the van and got all your food situated in the back, the basket of fries in your lap to snack on as Eddie drove a little further out for the Chinese restaurant

As Eddie drove the two of you around you made sure to keep checking the time

You didn’t want to keep each other out too late and not be able to eat all the things you got!

Not to mention how awful it would be to let those delicious drinks go to waste

As soon as Eddie parked he ran inside to grab your food order, not even telling you that he had gotten all your favorites ahead of time so you didn’t have to wait forever for it

It smelled delicious and you knew you’d be stuck on the couch eating all those yummy things for the rest of the night

He quickly made his way over to the mall to make your final stop at Scoops Ahoy for your ice cream

He didn’t want to forget the best part of your meal

The two of you raced to the store, agreeing that whoever was there last had to pay

Although you think Eddie definitely let you win just to be a gentleman

And he was even kind enough to buy the pints of ice cream instead of just the cups!

He knew you’d love to wake up with ice cream for breakfast

With all your goodies waiting for you in the van you both climbed back in and Eddie drove back to the park as quick as he could

You wanted to be able to enjoy your food while it was still hot

You grabbed your drink and the ice creams and Eddie grabbed his drink and the rest of the good as you ran into the kitchen to put the ice cream into the freezer

Eddie shut the trailer door behind him and placed the food onto the living room table, setting it all up for you as you rummaged through his tapes to find one to watch

You knew Eddie’s first pick would always be a horror movie but you wanted to mix it up a little tonight

He could never turn down one of his nerdy fantasy movies

You decided on Krull, a favorite of his, and pushed it into the VHS player on the tv while Eddie finished setting up your food

As the movie started the two of you didn’t know wether to savor your food or scarf it down like it was your last meal on earth

All your favorite things in one sitting was definitely something that Eddie had to plan more often

[marshmallowprotection]

hi! hope you’re having a good morning/afternoon/evening

i’ve been really unmotivated lately, lot of shit has happened but shit happening never really stopped me from getting my stuff done so i’m somewhat burnt out altogether

could you send some fluff from the choi household?? any domestic scenario you can think of, it doesn’t even need to be romantic!!! anything you think it’s soothing is enough

sorry for the odd ask :(( remember to drink water and to take care of yourself ^^

"I'm not getting in that thing."

"Saeran, c'mon! You don't have to be a stick in the mud. [Y/N] said it was a good idea! If you want to have ice cream together, you have to come into the fort! I won't even ask you for the super secret passcode to get inside! You're free to come in! How else will you get to the mini fridge? It has your favorites! C'mon!"

"No."

"Saeran doesn't have to join us if he doesn't want to, Saeyoung. It's okay. You can put that tomato magnet on Meowy so she can take his place. She won't eat his ice cream like you would, anyway. That's the win in his book."

"[Y/N]! I would never do that to my baby brother! You know he ikes his ice cream plain! I want a million toppings on mine! I would never eat a single ounce of his ice cream! Not just because he likes his without a load of sugar! But, because he's my baby brother!"

"...All I'm hearing out of you is that you'd consider eating it if it had a load of sprinkles and marshmallows on top."

"No! Besides, you forgot about spaceship gummies!"

"So, you would eat it!"

Saeran sighed at the two of them. The redhead shoved past them into the blanket fort that Saeyoung had strung up in the middle of the living room and grabbed a pint of ice cream from the fridge he placed with a fan at the back. He ripped off the seal and took a big bite from the center with his spoon. He sat down back there as the two of them bickered.

This was what he could expect from life with his brother and [Y/N]. Sure, it wasn't Mint Eye, but they knew how to get under his skin as well as that place did. At least, he got free ice cream out of this deal. They would continue to banter like that without realizing he'd come into their fort for a while.

Sometimes, Saeyoung was acutely aware of his every move, and other times he would let it fall to the wayside in the name of letting his guard down. His mistake, of course, given the fact that it let his brother sneak past him to enjoy a moment of peace that didn't have any nonsense directed at him.

It wasn't bad...

It was home.

[acsy]

Mundane moments

Old Coffee shop au/Contemporary au of my ocs :)

Word count: 1718

CW: Death, murder, dismemberment (mentioned but not described), implied blackmail.

Days are always repetitive when you yourself are a boring person.

The same usuals would barge in at the same hours, entertain small talk for a minute while waiting for their orders, some always ordered the same things, some always wanted something new. A few new people would pass by and enter, they would become new usuals, occasional visitors, or exceptional visitors. Some would take them to go, some would sit down and savor their iced americanos, their cappuccinos, strawberry smoothies, alongside maybe a croissant, a sandwich, an omelet, or a macaroon.

That was Argus's routine, boring and repetitive. It was depressing at times, how the coffee shop that used to bring him comfort, the place that promised renewal, would become so suffocating. But he would rather that then have a life where tomorrow was always a mystery.

It wasn't too small, there were about five tables scattered across the checkered flooring. Each had two to four seats each, and a skillfully folded paper towel sitting atop each table. He would wake up each morning at 7:00 am, have breakfast in the kitchen at 7:25 am, open up at 7:30, eat a quick snack for lunch and close the shop a 9:30 pm, clean up and get back home at 10:05 pm, chug a bottle of water and a cold sandwich then pass out.

And the loop would repeat, except this time it didn't.

Some odd looking girl barged into the shop at 7:20 am, before he could even finish his tea or folding the paper towels, and asked for a place to hide.

Her short blond hair a mess, and her eyes, a shade of brown so deep it seemed black, darting around anxiously.

He was originally going to refuse her, maybe she was a burgler, or a delinquent. Who knows? Yet, she forced her way through the door, and crouched behind the counter as if this was her property. As she hid in his Cafe, an elderly man with a severe scowl on his face ran past the door, looking around frantically.

He would later learn that this man was her uncle, that her name was Marcia, and that she was in atrocious debt.

"Your name is so old fashioned."

She looked back at him, eyes narrowed like an angry cat.

"You sound like you'd be an old Norse god, you don't get to call my name old fashioned."

"Wipe the cream off your face, then we can talk"

She started to come to the coffee shop pretty often, always ordering the same cheap coffee with loads of cream and sugar, and he'd always throw in an extra treat.

"There's always one left anyways."

A few flat macarons, a cold sandwich, a chocolate pudding of the wrong consistency, she took the free food gladly even if it was just his failed attempts. Yet with each passing week, the food got a bit nicer, the sandwich would be warm, the macarons would be nice and round, the pudding would be just right on the tongue.

"I just got better at it, don't think much of it."

Sometimes, items that weren't on the menu would pop up infront of her, a creme brule, a tiramisu, a chocolate cupcake. He never listed any of those, and she doubts anyone else knew of these.

"I'm thinking of adding these to the menu? What do you think?"

Closing and opening hours became a bit more flexible, he'd be here at 7:10 am before her classes would start, and he'd stay till 10:30 pm to pack up something for dinner. She'd barge in at odd hours, whenever she was free from the excruciating hell that is College. They started to settle into this routine, he'd make her something sweet before opening, and something filling before closing. He also started to eat more as well, he'd make two portions instead of one and eat with her after closing hours on weekends, no more cold sandwiches or energy bars, a real meal. He'd almost forgotten how good his own cooking was.

It became an everyday thing, and he started having something to look forward to. The same usuals would always barge in at the same hours, and everyone acted the same they always did, yet the addition of a single person made his days unimaginably brighter.

A few months after their first encounter, Marcia suddenly disappeared.

She just vanished, as if she was never there.

She wouldn't answer his calls, she wouldn't answer the door, the neighbors hadn't seen her in days, and he didn't spot her near her campus either. She was gone, and he could feel her absence.

His days became the same colorless bore again, light draining from every corner of the coffee shop. The place he finally cherished again now reminded him of how empty his days are now that his ray of sunlight was gone.

Yet, time went by, and he kept living, like he always did. Two weeks have passed since he last saw Marcia, and there was no trace of her at all. The same usuals would always barge in at the same hours, and everything was the same as it used to be, kind of lonely.

Too lonely.

So he decided to find her himself, look for her. He didn't know if it was the overwhelming loneliness, his increasing worry, or the alcohol, but he went to her apartment and stood in front of her door for what felt like hours. Quietly whispering her name, shyly knocking on the door,his feet anxiously tapping against the floor. The small thuds turned into banging, and the whispers into screams. He hit the door repeatedly, fist red and bruised from punching into the hard wood. His yelling quickly alarmed the neighbors, as a few heads started to peek from behind their doors or at the end of the staircase, too afraid to confront the mad man hitting the door violently. His knees caved and his forehead banged loudly against the door, as his hands hanged pathetically at his sides. He could feel a touch on his shoulder, aman, no younger than 30, was looking at him with a gaze filled with determination and fear. He only then realized what he was doing. Getting back on his feet, he gave the man behind him an apologetic nod before leaving the apartment complex. He had no idea what he was doing, but at that moment, he was desperate. He ran and searched everywhere, her college, her house, the park, but she was nowhere. Nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be found, she disappeared.

It was driving him mad, this endless search, the doubt, the unknown. Did she leave town? Does she simply not want to see me anymore? Or did something happen to her? He didn't know, but he needed to know, he had to know. So he went back to the apartment complex, and slipped in through her window. He crawled in, doing his best to make no sound, tip-toeing his way inside.

Her room was a mess, as always, but an odd smell caught him aback. He made his way to her kitchen, this is where the smell was most overpowering. It smelled like rotten meat, expired honey and burnt plastic. He looked around, for something, anything that could bring him closer to where she might be. A flash of red caught his eye, in his peripheral vision, he could see a viscous red liquid oozing out of her fridge. He could feel his palms sweating and his vision was shaking. He opened the fridge slowly, as if dreading the sight of its contents, and inside were the dismembered remains of a woman.

Short blond hair now colored red in blood, and bright blue eyes devoid of light.

He stood still for a second, eyes wide and knees weak, but just as his lips parted, a hand firmly pressed his mouth shut. He stumbled back, the person behind him falling with him. As he turned his head to see just who was restraining him, he saw her again for the first time.

Marcia was much thinner than he recalls, her skin pale and devoid of color. She pressed her hand against his mouth again, silently mouthing the words "don't make a sound". He felt himself relax after finally seeing her face again. He gave her a quick nod and she stood up from the floor, making her way towards the kitchen sink. The pungent smell crept back up Argus's nostrils as he tried to supress a gag, he simply can't get used to it. Marcia looks back at him and gestures for him to come closer. He stood up without a word, stopping about five inches away from her.

Suddenly, she starts tearing up.

Hot tears fall down her cheeks as she silences hiccups. She cups her face in her hands, holding back sobs and hiding her face from him. The sight tugged at Argus's heart, he wanted to comfort her, he needed to.

"I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have... but she.."

She looks as though she is about to collapse on herself, and Argus feels as if he is about to lose his mind. He doesn't quite understand the situation, but he saw the body, and he sees the knife next to her.

He knows what she did and what she is about to do.

He wraps his arms around her, pressing her forehead to rest on his collar bone, and trapping her arms in his embrace. She winces at the crushing grip he has on her, or the way his hand is firmly grabbing her hair. He hums softly into her ear, placing a small peck atop her head.

"It'll be fine." He whispers.

"I'll help you." He promises.

"You'll be fine." He assures.

And he can't stop the small smile that crept onto his lips. The situation was less than ideal, but it worked nonetheless.

He was afraid, terrified, that she would leave him all alone again. But now, he could make sure to keep her at his side forever.

He swore he wouldn't do anything like that again, he promised. But promises are meant to be broken, and breaking this one will offer him a much greater prize.

She squirms slightly in his arms, but he doesn't let go.

"I'll help you get rid of them, I promise. "

"But everything comes with a price."

"So I hope to see you again tomorrow."

Argus and Marcia have changed so much but I kinda like this so here it is :D

[heaven-s-black-box]

I'm fine- Athena & Simon

Return to File

Recovery date: August 10th, 2020

Description: Athena and Simon meet up at a cafe, and Simon notices she's not looking too well.

Notes: Content warning for minor medical emergency. Recovered in conjunction with Erin from research lab Ao3, we thank them for their contributions.

Word count: 701

Back to directory

“It’s so great to see you again!” Happy.

“You what?” Annoyance.

“Why am I even talking to you?” Anger.

“What can I get for you today?”Indifr-

Athena was pulled from her thoughts by the chair in front of her moving. Simon placed two cups of coffee down as he took his seat, and Athena immediately reached for her’s. It was an almost beige color, a testament to how much cream and sugar it contained. Just the way she liked it. Simon’s, on the other hand, was still black. He’d probably only added one sugar, and it was still a big maybe.

“You get any paler and people will start thinking you’re a ghost,” he said. Worry. He’s worried, but it’s alright.

“I’m fine Simon. I promise, after this case, I’ll take a day or two off to rest. But I’m so close to finishing this, I won’t back down.”

“Athena,” he said. He only ever called her by her first name when she was in trouble, or he was seriously worried. “Have you been eating right?”More worry, do I really look that bad?

“Of course! Do I really look that bad?” She smiled, taking a sip from her coffee.

“Can we get some ice?” Widget piped up.

“Widget! Shh.” Athena hissed, clamping her hands around widget. Simon raised an eyebrow.

“Are you feeling warm?” He put a hand to her forehead. “Maybe we should head out. I will take you home.”

Athena yawned. “Alright, I-I’m feeling a little tired anyways. But I have to be at the crime scene later, Ema wants to show me something.”

Athena stood up, only to stumble forwards a bit and caught herself on the table. She stared down at her feet, and watched the world spin. Simon’s voice was muffled, but she could hear him asking if she was alright. I’m fine.

“I’m-”

“Dizzy!” Widget finished, causing her to scowl.

“Shut up!” She snapped, ripping widget from her neck and slamming it on the table. This caused other patrons to stare.

“Cykes-dono, calm down. What’s wrong?” Simon asked, placing a hand on her back. He noticed her arms were shaking, she was shaking. “Athena, sit back down,” he said, helping her into her chair. “Excuse me, can I get a glass of ice water and a muffin?”

“Simon I’m-”

“No. Your not, and if you don’t sit down and eat before I take you to a doctor-”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“Yes, you do. I’ll take you to the ER,” he finished. He looked down at Widget, still clutched in her hand. “Give it here.” She handed him widget, and he looked it over before putting it on. She giggled at the clashing look. “And the glove.”

A waitress brought over the water and muffin, and Simon paid. After she left, he loosened the glove, and put it on. It was a tight fit, but it would work for what he wanted. Athena took a gulp of water, and started chewing on some of the ice cubes.

“Widget, open the mood matrix please.”

“Simon, I’m fine. I’ll go to the doctors, I promise.” He doesn’t need to know.

While Widget opened, Simon spoke, “Then will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I said, I’m fine.” She took another gulp of ice cubes, and frowned when she realized she was out.

Meanwhile, the mood matrix finished loading. As she spoke it flashed blue and yellow, as if she didn’t completely believe what she was saying. Looking up at her, he could tell she knew what he was thinking.

“Well… I’ve been feeling a little dizzy lately, and my chest hurts a bit, but I haven’t been feeling overly sick.” He glared at her.

“Why haven’t you seen a doctor?” Widget asked, and Simon redirected his glare to the device.

“Damn this thing is annoying. But it’s right. Why haven’t you seen a doctor?”

“Well… I was busy with work, and it wasn’t too bad until recently. I just thought I was lacking sleep.” She looked down, and took a bite of her muffin. “So, you’re not gonna let me see Ema this afternoon, are you?”

“That depends on what the doctor has to say.”

[motownfiction]

observer

Charlie is the observer.

He might be Sadie and Sam’s kid brother, and they might include him in a lot more stuff than your typical siblings would. That’s the nature of growing up with a brother and sister as sweet as Sadie and Sam. But Charlie knew he’d never really be part of the group. For one thing, he’s a Cancer, not a Pisces. For another, he’s two years younger than the rest of them, two years behind, two years sprinting to catch up to the cool kids to almost no avail.

One night at Abby’s from behind her cherry Coke, Lucy tells Charlie that they are not the cool kids. She says they’re actually the opposite.

Charlie stabs the bottom of his vanilla milkshake with his straw.

“How can you not be the cool kids if you’re having sex?” he asks.

Lucy laughs.

“Not all of us are,” she says, and Charlie sees her glance at Will from the corner of her eye. “And, you know, come on. Just because you’re having sex doesn’t mean you’re cool.”

“How would you know?”

“Charles, look at me. I know everything.”

Charlie laughs a little. He’s pretty sure he could argue with that, but Lucy has that glare in her eye – the one that makes her look a little like a bull. She gets that look every time she feels challenged or like she might be wrong about something. Charlie’s noticed. He hasn’t had much of another choice. If he wants to be anywhere near in with them, he has to know them like they know themselves. He has to watch.

“Anyway, we’re not the cool kids,” Lucy says. “The cool kids are … well, actually, I don’t know what the hell they’re doing. There’s this part of me that assumes they just live at the mall. Take showers in the fountain, eat at the food court, sleep … well, there’s a part of me that assumes they’re vampires, so they probably don’t sleep at all. But I know it’s not that. It can’t be as innocent as that.”

“Then how do you know it’s cool?” Charlie asks.

Lucy shrugs.

“Well, if we’re pretending like I don’t know everything,” she says, “then I guess it’s just a feeling. I mean, if they weren’t the cool kids, they wouldn’t get away with acting like assholes, people wouldn’t smile every time they walk into the room, and they wouldn’t be the ones wearing sashes and tiaras at every dance. Not that I want that for myself. Just … the cool kids don’t know all the words to ‘Bus Stop’ by The Hollies, and they certainly don’t dance around to it in a diner on a Friday night.”

Charlie follows Lucy’s gaze toward Abby’s ice cream tubs, where Sam is dancing and pulling a reluctant Will and Daniel into the fray. Sadie claps from the sidelines, never once taking her eyes off Daniel. Charlie knows how wide his grin must be.

He ate lunch alone again today. Third day in a row. He usually eats lunch with Carrie, Katie, and Lola, but Carrie’s been out sick since Wednesday. And when Carrie’s not there, it just doesn’t feel right to crash Katie and Lola’s party. They’ve practically got their own language.

Charlie can play jazz piano classics in his head.

He watches as Sam puts more money in the jukebox. He hears Abby yelling from the kitchen, warning Sam that if he plays “Take a Letter, Maria” again, she’ll ban him from the restaurant until he dies. Naturally, Sam loads up that very song, and naturally, Abby smiles at him. Sam says something about haunting the place before dancing to the chorus. Charlie knows his smile is even bigger now.

Lucy says they’re not the cool kids, and maybe she’s right. But did anyone worthwhile ever want to be? The coolest kids are the ones who were never born to be teenagers, whose adolescence is a purgatory they can look back on with poetic profundity. Charlie already imagines his memories as distant ones. He can’t wait until the day when it’s true.

Until then, he’ll keep watching them like a movie in his head. Something like Godard, he thinks. Maybe Truffaut.

The coolest kids he’ll ever know.

(part of @nosebleedclub september challenge -- day xxii!)

[improperingenue]

Spring Awakening Headcanons Part 1

For some reason I starting wondering what kind of pastries/desserts the SA kids would like, so here we go

Melchior: Croissants. You saw this coming. Melchior is a simple man. He sees a croissant, he eats. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or not.

Wendla: Madelines. Something about how fluffy and sweet they are just seems to me very Wendla like

Moritz: Éclairs — not only are they light and sort of dreamy if done right, you have the contrast between the top frosting and the cream inside that sort of reminds me of the layers of Moritz’s personality

Ilse: Some kind of fruit tart. I have a feeling she’d like something fresh and a little bit tangy and bitter

Hanschen: You know he’s that macaron bitch

Ernst: Strudel, probably. But loaded with vanilla ice cream

Thea: Some sort of muffin that you’d think is simple but is really not. Maybe a maple pumpkin almond or something (can you see I’m bad at flavor pairings?)

Melitta: Cannoli. I literally have no reasoning for this other than she just gives off those vibes

Anna: Glazed donut. She’s a classic.

Georg: I don’t know, he’s probably that heathen who likes white chocolate. Blondies too

Otto: Macaroons, not to be confused with macarons. You know, those puffy cream balls

Anyway. I’m planning to do some more, so let me know what headcanons you want to see!

[antonchigurhfan2003]

8/11/24

I couldnt sleep at all last night and this morning I am feeling equally as restless. Ive been restricting like crazy the past few days and I started getting terrible stomach pain, so I thought I would just eat a little bit of cereal. But, of course, my mind snapped and I couldnt stop there and I ate a shit load of chocolate ice cream and washed it down with milk. I dont like purging but I will do it when necessary, and luckily for me ice cream is like the easiest thing to purge.

Anyway, I met a wonderful girl yesterday and I am terrified. Ive only ever been with men, although I have known about my bisexuality since I was a child. I just never explored it, never found myself in a position to. Now here she comes looking at me that way.

She is in some type of situationship with another woman we work with who doesnt give her the time of day. Doesnt take her out, they havent even hung out with each other- they just text each other. I want to punch her in the face because this woman, who I will dub Mary, is so charming and adorable and full of life. She shouldnt be with someone so unenthusiastic. I gave her my phone number and we texted all night. She loves fruit, its so cute. I also love fruit, I want to give her lots of yummy fruit. I want to take her out on a date and give her lots of gifts. She seems receptive to me, but I get mixed messages due to her telling me she is often very busy, working two jobs. I think if we fell in love I could take care of her and she could just relax and enjoy her time, I know she has some health issues and Im not sure how much of a toll this takes on her yet, all I know is I want her to feel taken care of and like she has someone to rely on.

I say I met her yesterday, but really we’ve worked together for a while and I only started to really get to know her yesterday.

I really hope we work together again today. Maybe I should buy a mango and cut it up for her as a snack? Will this win her over and make her forget about that other lady? I hope so.

I am also terrified because I have never had sex with a woman and Im scared of performing terribly. I guess that makes me a virgin in this situation, which might be unappealing if I am the top. Oh well.

I am going to get dressed and buy the best mango in the store so I can get it all cut up for her to enjoy.

Love you, bye

[lcec0ldheart]

Random OC stuff of the day #1: What do they like to eat?

Ive accidentally made a habit where sometime in the morning i get a random idea and end up making a thread about it (but tumblr has no character limit so I can have it all on one post🎉)

Anyways, I was chatting with my friend, when I came across an…interesting tweet.

So, my friend said Violet would eat a battery. And they’re right, she WOULD. Frost would to prove a point. Citrine would because she’s kinda stupid (/lh) and thought it would be funny. They all would.

Thinking about it, Violet’s eaten quite a bit of inedible things…like batteries. Or drywall. Or lipstick because it smelled like fruit- She’s curious and likes to learn, which includes what things taste like. Luckily, she’s never gotten sick from eating inedible food, somehow. I guess that’s another power of hers? That she can eat (and digest if there’s any sort of nutrition in it?) practically anything as long as it’s not extremely hot or cold

(Violet holding a piece of bitten drywall)

“It’s crunchy, salty and kind of sweet…Enough so that i can’t taste the bitterness too much, it’s not bad honestly. I think it would be good with strawberry jam” -Violet

But that got me thinking, I haven’t really thought of the disaster trio’s food preferences yet? So, here we are.

Frost, surprisingly, has a sweet tooth, liking sweet foods, and he can tolerate extreme sourness…he’ll eat a lime if he feels like his mouth needs freshening. He loves hot chocolate, especially if there’s cream added. He likes ice cream, pastries, and citrus. Can’t handle spice at all

Citrine, unsurprisingly, can tolerate spice very well, and as such, tends to make her food unreasonably spicy. She prefers savory/salty foods -like garlic bread or spicy chips. She really likes spicy pepperoni pizza and spicy BBQ chicken, since it has both! Do not let her attempt those ghost pepper challenges! Can’t tolerate sourness

Violet’s a bit more balanced, liking both sweet and salty. Either one is good, though she likes Fruits and meats in particular. Coincidentally, both of those kinds of foods are quite fleshy…maybe that’s why she has those chompers? Anyways, her favorites are strawberries, steak, and anything with tomato as a main ingredient. She has her coffee loaded with sugar because she’s sensitive to bitterness -that’s why she dislikes dark chocolate lol

If you’ve read all the way through this, thanks! They all have 1 specific flavor/taste they struggle with, as for me I can’t have stuff spicier than normal talkis. I’m pretty good with sourness though. Violet and Frost are loosely based after myself, while Citrine isn’t, but that’s what makes her fun

Anyways, have a nice day! More infodumps coming soon -probably

[mygainyear2024]

Day 16 I found my garlic limit!

I had a restless sleep, I imagine from the late coffee yesterday.  I was dreaming I was narrating the Netflix movie Scoop (Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell were in my head!) and I woke with a fright when I heard “head north east on Rua do Oceano Índico”, out of my iPhone. For some reason google maps went off, it was 11.30pm! WTF 😂

Today I booked the train to Albufeira, excited to see this party town!  I wasn’t sure if a bus was an option to Old Town.  The staff member at the station said "outside" but on looking at the times and route I wasn’t hopeful, so I ordered a Bolt.  I noticed a couple of young women looking at the timetable and walking away so I offered them a lift.  I said "I’m going to a coffee roaster first and I’m not sure how close it is to Old Town but you’re welcome to join me".  They looked a bit tentative at first and then decided to jump in 😂 We headed to Al-Gharb, I did say there was no obligation to have coffee together, but they wanted to and then paid for mine, and their “famous” banana bread while I was in the WC.  So kind of them.  Delightful young women, Julie and Rike, studying to be teachers, living 3 hours from Hamburg.  I’m sure they thought I’d taken speed, I couldn’t stop talking 😹 We discussed travel, teaching, my kids, Julie’s siblings, Rike’s job in a public paying school, creepy men at their Airbnb in Lagos, living in a post Covid world. I set them free and had a second coffee and then headed to some earmarked pottery and cork shops, lunch and gelato.

I purchased a lovely cork necklace, discounted to €10, from a baby/kids store that had a small table of jewellery. I managed to discern that it was indeed handmade locally by a woman who no longer makes jewellery as she has arthritis. I also purchased a locally made ceramic bowl that I'll use to eat my granola while I'm holidaying and beyond. I could have bought so much more, but on this trip I don't want to worry about breaking things over a longer period of time!

I’d pre-booked lunch using The Fork app and was a tad disappointed after sitting down to hear the waitress telling me the three octopus dishes were not available (no catch for that day). I looked at the menu and used google translate, saw there was squid (so I could eat that), I already knew the cod was frozen (as I'd asked at another restaurant) and I could have carapaus (mackerel) and even though I don't eat beef, pork or lamb, if I had to I could have the pica-pau (woodpecker!). I thought this must be a mistake and I assumed quail or similar. On her return the carapaus was not an option either, it was going to take too long to make, que?  I told her I had time! "Would an hour be enough?" She walked away, came back and said “it’s not possible”.  I asked about the woodpecker and she laughed, no it was some beef dish, sounded like dried or carpaccio* (after sleeping on this, maybe it’s smoked 🤔). I ended up with squid, in loads of oil and garlic and I asked for sweet potato.  The waitress said “don’t you like cheese?” Of course I like cheese, so thinking what I ordered was not enough I got cheese and the usual slightly dry bread (no wonder there's oil, it's to make the dry bread edible! Sadly when it came out it looked like a heart attack waiting to happen, melted with more oil and garlic.  The rosé was good, the sweet potato never came, but a salad was on my bill. I should have asked for the salad 😂 I did say there was way too much oil and garlic and the waitress said "this is the way in Portugal"...OK!

I didn’t need it, but after some more wandering in the heat, I had it anyway...gelato, from Georgina Gelato - pistachio, salted caramel and snickers! 

Heading back in the Bolt the temperature gauge showed 31°.  The lovely Bolt driver said summer temperatures are usually around 32°, and it’s only Spring 🥵 We had a fantastic conversation about ice cream after I asked him how long he’d been living in the Algarve (I've noticed all of the Bolt/Uber drivers aren't locals). He’d been in Albufeira for nearly four years, coming to help his mum make and sell ice cream. She’d studied the art in Italy.  They only sell to a shop called Sailor. I did see that shop, but it didn’t feature as highly as Georgina on the google ratings. I should have got that guys number. I wonder can I track him down on the Bolt app, or maybe that will get me banned and that wouldn't be good, as I now have 15% discount on my next five trips.

I got on the right train to come "home", I triple checked!

Tomorrow I collect my tiles 🤩

*It got the better of me so I googled it, sounds delicious for those who eat beef. Pica pau is a traditional Portuguese dish consisting of small pieces of fried beef in a light gravy made with beer, garlic, oil, chili, and mustard. The dish is usually consumed as a snack, accompanied by a few glasses of cold beer and bread for mopping up the sauce. When served, pica pau is traditionally topped with olives and pickled carrots and cauliflowers. The name of the dish means woodpecker, because you pick at the beef with a wooden toothpick. Pica pau is a staple of the Portuguese tascas – tiny little restaurants.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Snowflakes and berries at the Nightingale Nebula

It’s winter berry season at the Nightingale Nebula, so us campers are meeting up with the Epiphany to try their seasonal berries as well as enjoy the snowy season. Maybe it seems kinda weird that we’re eating ice cream in the cold, but it’s surprisingly fitting. There’s a reason why these berries are a well known local specialty after all!

The berries that are in season right now are limboberries, clamshells, ameplums, and milky citrus. Limboberries are the most common and can be used in a lot of different things. There’s seasonal specialties like limboberry jam and limboberry milk tea, and it’s often used in pastries. The taste is sort of like a cross between a raspberry and sweet grape. When you freeze the berries, the flavor improves by a lot as it really brings out the sweetness. Seriously, there is such a huge difference between frozen and not frozen.

Clamshells are the second most popular and it’s named that because they’re literally shaped like that. I have seen a lot of people take pictures with them because they do look so unusual, like it’s unreal. Seriously, they look kinda like those plastic beads that sometimes comes in fun shapes like seashells. As for the taste, it’s sweet with hints of a citrusy tartness to balance things out. You can eat it fresh or as ice cream, which is often served in a brioche bun.

Ameplums is basically amethyst and plum because of its pretty purple color. They really do kinda look like gems, especially when chilled as they become super shiny, almost like sparkly. These berries are really sweet - like candy sweet - so unless you like that, you need to freeze them. Basically the opposite of limboberries. They’re used exclusively for desserts and sweet wine.

Finally, there’s milky citrus, which is an unusual berry that’s citrusy and milky. I don’t know why, but I find the flavor kinda weird. I mean, creamsicles are a thing, though I don’t think this tasted anything like that, more like someone poured milk into a glass of orange juice. Maybe that’s not the best way of describing it. Anyway, I don’t exactly dislike it, especially in ice cream where the milkiness shines, but I wouldn’t gravitate towards it for anything else.

As for the Epiphany Crew, quite a bit has happened since I last saw them. The main thing is that Jewel’s recovered and chose to stick with the crew, which Laufey and Landry are happy about. I was worried about her after we just barely saved her from sinking to the bottom of the Mosaic. In terms of physical recovery, she’s not quite out of the woods yet, though it’s nothing too serious that would leave lasting complications. As for the mental and emotional, it’s safe to say that she’s doing a lot better, but it’s also complicated. Just gotta take it one day at a time.

Jewel revealed a bit about what had happened that led to her walking into the river. She said her sense of time after serving her prison sentence has become a bit hazy, most likely because she stopped caring about pretty much everything by that point. From what she can remember, she ended up blowing almost her entire fortune for various reasons, the legal stuff basically being the final nail in the coffin. I recall Laufey mentioning that as a debt collector she was pretty loaded and took pride in that, so to find out that Jewel later became destitute was a shock for her.

Although Jewel had some emergency savings stashed away by the time she was released, she either gambled it all away, or it just wasn’t enough to keep her afloat. Either way, she just aimlessly wandered to various places until she completely ran out of money and began living out on the streets. Sometime later, she started feeling sick and instead of getting better, she realized that she was getting worse. And since she couldn’t afford to get medicine, Jewel felt that her death was inevitable and decided to speed things up.

It’s a good thing we saw her when we did, or else Jewel wouldn’t be here today. She had been hoping to see me again so she can thank me in person and apologize for the trouble, which she didn’t have to, but she insisted. I mean, she was a low point and we saw her falling. Maybe some people would rather turn away when someone’s sinking, even if they’re right next to them, but I don’t think I can do that. If I saw someone falling and they’re within my reach, I would try to help them, do whatever I can within reason to stop them from falling to the void. That’s the least I can do.

After she got pulled out of the water, Jewel spent about 8 days in the ICU because of pneumonia. Since she had been ill for a while and being submerged exacerbated things, the doctors were worried about potential complications. Her lungs and heart are okay, thankfully, but she said there’s apparently some issues with her kidneys that should hopefully resolve itself. So she’s been going in for regular checkups and she’s slowly regaining her strength.

As for how things are for her emotionally and mentally, Jewel summed up her ordeal by saying she fucked up big time. Just as Landry suspected, Jewel began going through an existential crisis after the Acapella incident, which led to her demotion. Back then, she was a ruthless debt collector who was willing to play dirty to get the job done, even if it means ruining other people’s livelihoods over matters that have absolutely nothing to do with the present. The way she and her former colleagues saw it, being a debt collector was a necessary job to keep the economy going, which allowed them to sort of detach themselves and see people as numbers rather than actual people. Not really a nice way of viewing the world in my opinion.

Jewel herself had a reputation for being two faced and admits to being good at backstabbing to the point that it scares her. The incident at Acapella and her subsequent demotion made her realize what she was becoming and she hated herself for it. That’s why she went down the path of self sabotage. Even if she didn’t get fired, the Interstellar Factions debt collector department shut down anyway because it was inherently a corrupt system - and according to Jewel, they probably went bankrupt with all their legal troubles they’ve built up over the centuries.

Having been a debt collector for pretty much her whole life, which she explained as predetermined fate, and revolving her whole life around that, Jewel didn’t know what else to do after getting fired. She can’t go into detail for legal reasons, but she basically joined some sort of gang/cult and got into even more trouble. Then things escalated to the point where she finally got arrested and imprisoned.

When she woke up in the hospital, Jewel admitted that she was disappointed. Laufey said she was listless, kind of like a robot on autopilot. Fionna said it was the same for her when she woke up from her coma. You expect the sweet release of death only to find yourself pinned rock bottom and forced to live with the fact that you’re alive - meaning, you have no choice but to face the consequences of your decisions.

They say that dying is considered an easy way out, but is it really?

The crew held a meeting and it was pretty much unanimous that they wanted to take in Jewel if she had nowhere to go. While Jewel didn’t refuse, she questioned why they cared about what happened to her. The way she saw it, she didn’t deserve to be alive, though she also didn’t want to come across as ungrateful to those who risked their lives to save hers. Landry made it pretty clear that the offer wasn’t a transactional thing and that she should only accept because it’s what she wants, not because she felt that she owed them. In other words, she has to decide for herself, not what she thinks will make others happy.

Having been in the same position herself, it makes sense that Fionna would be able to reach out to Jewel. Although she wasn’t actively suicidal, Fionna was at such a low point where she didn’t care whether she lived or died because her troubles were piling on and she didn’t know what to do. Instead of dealing with their problems, they ignore them, preferring to run away rather than admit their mistakes. It’s a dangerous downwards spiral that’s difficult to get yourself out of, especially because you don’t realize that you’re in trouble until you’re in too deep. To some, they fall into this trap that they’re always doomed to fail because it seems like there’s no way out of this mess.

That said, even if it seems endless, and even when you yourself caused your own misfortune, your troubles will eventually pass. To quote a certain fortune teller, “Bad times are just times that are bad.” Sure, your problems won’t go away overnight, but no matter how bad a situation is, there will always be some sort of solution. Of course, depending on the situation, you have to work at it, and that’s often easier said than done. Some people just don’t want to work at it, preferring an easy way out so they probably don’t have to think too much about the consequences of their actions.

Fionna was given two choices when she woke up, which were, to put simply, live or die. At the time, she reluctantly chose to live, not just by breathing, but also by rebuilding her life from the ground up. She’s emphasized that she got lucky with things like a reduced sentence in a prison that’s actually more like a rehabilitation center, along with a good support system that really wanted her to pick herself up again. It became clear to her later on why they chose to send her there rather than some actual prison, and she’s grateful to them for that.

Even after serving her sentence, Fionna chose to stay as a staff member because she found meaning in her life over there and wanted to help others like they did for her. She might have overstayed her time there, but that’s another story. She mentioned that she was a flighty person back then, which contributed to her inability to put much effort into things because she just didn’t see the point. In other words, when the going gets rough, she gets going in the opposite direction.

It seems like Fionna’s heart to heart did Jewel a lot of good. She admits that she’s still on the fence about whether or not she wants to live, so she’s taking Fionna’s advice and playing it by ear. Laufey noted that after that talk, Jewel began acting more like her old - real - self and her recovery drastically improved. Her reasoning was along the lines of “I’m tired of fucking things up, I just want to do something right for once.”, which I think is a good reason to keep on going. Take control of your life rather than have it control you.

Along with the berries, there was another reason why the Epiphany’s visiting the Nightingale Nebula. A couple years ago, one of Della’s friends was murdered and her case had been unresolved until now. However, there’s been speculations that have been going around for a while that one of Della’s former superiors from the Eagle Stellarons is responsible. It wasn’t until during a recent fight with her old man that he accidentally revealed some things about the former captain that could potentially open up a can of worms, so to speak.

Della’s friend was basically killed for criticizing the Eagle Stellarons. As for how she met Della, it started out as an online friendship, then they found out that they weren’t too far from each other, so started hanging out in person. Marina was the one who opened Della’s eyes to her faction’s glaring faults and it was clear that her colleagues did not like that.

According to Yang and Della, it wasn’t like Marina was strongly opposed to the Eagle Stellarons, nor was she trying to be an activist, she just had some opinions and wasn’t afraid to voice them online. She didn’t have any ties to certain organizations or higher ups, she was just an ordinary person from an ordinary family, so the chances of her murder being a random occurrence was highly likely.

Since Marina was her only friend outside of the Eagle Stellarons, it makes sense why Della wanted to get to the bottom of this. She had a nagging feeling that she might have been responsible, though she couldn’t figure out why. She tried to reach out to Marina’s family, but aside from her mother, the other family members didn’t see the point in trying to get closure, which she doesn’t blame them for.

And not surprisingly, her colleagues were saying things along the lines of, “Why do you care about some nobody?” I think the appropriate response would be along the lines of, “Because they are somebody, someone who was once living and breathing just like we were.” Believe it or not, we do mean something to at least one person - it’s not like we exist in a vacuum.

So it turns out that Della’s former captain is a fucking creep for various reasons, and he apparently might be a serial killer. Damn. Della said he could never take criticism well, but she didn’t think he would resort to silencing those who he didn’t see eye to eye with. Out of all his known victims, only two aren’t affiliated with the Eagle Stellarons in any way - he only found out Marina and the other person through stalking his subordinates on social media.

There’s obviously a lot more to it, but Della has no interest in finding out more. She never saw eye to eye with him on pretty much anything, not to mention that he was often bullying and harassing her. Whatever happens to him, she doesn’t care as long as he rots in hell while his victims get the justice they deserve.

Now with that out of the way, Della’s been working up the courage to visit Marina’s mother again, preferably with the two of them alone. She was understandably hesitant because of her ties with the Eagle Stellarons, which is understandable. After all, around these parts the view of the Eagle Stellarons were somewhere between neutral and somewhat critical.

While we got a head start on picking berries, she went off on her own. A couple hours later around lunchtime she returned in much better spirits. Marina’s mother was alone and she was understanding of the whole situation, as well as grateful that Della came all this way to see her. As it turns out, she had been following the news of the Stellarons downfall and was aware that Della played a role in that. Now that’s one less thing weighing on her shoulders.

The berry picking was a lot of fun! Since they grow on really tall trees, we have to ride towering snowbeasts to reach the branches! Just as the name implies, they are massive! You have to get on a super tall platform into order to get on, and for a shorty like me, I needed a small ladder to get a bit of a boost. Along with being tall, they’re also wide enough to seat two people as well as small baskets for us to collect the berries.

As for the view up above, it was amazing! I was afraid that since we were on an animal it was gonna be wobbly, but it’s surprisingly steady. Obviously you can feel the platform move when it walks, and even then it’s not too terrifying. Plus, we have to stop to pick berries. It was a little scary being so close to the branches because you’re basically screwed if we move and something gets caught. Fortunately, nothing of that sort happened and it didn’t take long for me to get used to it.

Overall, it’s a totally unique experience that I would highly recommend if you’re comfortable with heights, as well as getting up close and personal with a bunch of trees, which I think is worth it for the berries they have to offer!

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