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#take care and hope the air quality improves soon
odyssej · 1 year
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Funny to be on this American-centric social platform and hearing news of the shit that goes down over there while on our end the more pressing issues are…
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Really does seem to be two worlds apart, huh, as a museum dedicated to the 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre has just opened in the Big Apple, yet we couldn’t even hold our yearly vigil here as a pro-CCP carnival’s taken over.
Priorities, man.
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one-idea · 9 months
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Let’s keep going with Wado Ichimonji’s point of view.
When they arrive at Lodgetown the whole place is weird. Wado was already annoyed because Zoro insisted on getting two new swords. She can already tell that this is NOT the place to get quality swords. She going to get stuck once again with two blades not worthy of Zoro’s skill and it will just be a matter of time until they can’t take his strength anymore and break. (If he has to use other blades can he at least wait until they find high quality blades like her)
Then on top of it they run into Tashigi. The kiuna look a like makes Wado physically rattle in her scabbard. How dare this look a like come here and mock her old masters memory! How dare she mess with her boys head!
Eventually they get away from her and Zoro finds his way to the swords shop. And Wado hears it. This incessant whining. And she realizes two things. There is at least ONE grade blade in this store. This normally would fill her with hope. Finally a companion she could talk to. Obviously they aren’t one of the 21 great blades like she is, but it’s a definite improvement. Except for the second thing she realizes. This blade is cursed. And she won’t shut up! Whining for a new master so that she can kill again (until she kills her master again)
She’s just so annoying.
And she’s currently in a barrel of regular swords. This sales man is an idiot. All she can hope is that Zoro doesn’t hear her calls.
The shop owner then tries to BUY her from Zoro. He’s not just an idiot he’s a greedy imbecilic. Luckily that annoying look alike arrived and recognized her. And off course the Kuina look alike would know her name (sigh) but at least Zoro know it now! Her boy is calling her by name! He knows just how incredible she is now, one of the 21 great grade blades! Maybe she can forgive this look alike.
Except she leads Zoro right to that cursed blade.
No! Death for look a like! Wado will never forgive her for this.
Except Zoro already knows this blade was cursed. He had heard her calls the moment he walked into the store. Because of course he did. Her boy is the best. He can hear their (the swords) voices so well. But why Her.
Sandai Kitetsu is this new blades name.
As soon as Zoro touches her she starts begging. Begging for blood. Begging for battle. And Wado knows Zoro’s heart. Knows him to be a loyal and honorable man.
She also knows he’s feral and bloodthirsty in his own way. Has been since he was a child.
Sandai Kitetsu is calling for the right person. And of course her idiot son hears this curse blade voice, and is warned by two people not to use her. And what does he decide? To test his luck against the swords curse by throwing it in the air and seeing if it will chop of his arm. Wado is furious.
Wado already knows the end result.
Sandai Kitetsu spins right past his arm. Not just past it but the back of her blade faced Zoro’s arm the whole time. She never would have cut him.
Wado can hear her clearly now when Zoro picks her up again.
“New master! Strong master! Won’t hurt master! You’re like me, you’re hungry to fight like me. Please let me fight!”
Her whining is incessant. It won’t stop! Wado already hates her. She not worried about Zoro falling to the curse, he’s to strong and two stubborn for that. And she can tell Sandai Kitetsu won’t hurt him as long as he brings her to battle. But does she have to be so annoying!
The swords sales man has been talking this whole time but Wado hadn’t been paying attention. To focused on her future roommate and annoyance to care for this human. Until she hears another voice
Yubashiri, a skillful grade blade. Far superior to this whining grade blade but not as great as she. It will do for a companion.
Yubashiri is quieter than Sandai Kitetsu, but that’s not hard. A hurricane is quieter than Sandai Kitetsu. But Yubashiri only talks when necessary. Wado is grateful for that.
Now Zoro has two high level blade plus her one of the 21 great blades. They will take Zoro farther in his journey. All the way to the top.
(Is it wrong of her to hope that he breaks Sandai Kitetsu?)
Regardless they leave the shop. And find their way back to their King. Only that stupid clown is back. And he’s trying to kill their King! How dare he!
So much happens. They almost lose their king, something Wado will not except, for Zoro won’t except it. Zoro needs his captain, they need their king. But he is saved by what the cook calls a miracle. Wado calls it to close and will never let it get that close again. Then they have to fight look a like. And Wado was right. The girl may look like Kuina, but she doesn’t fight like her. Zoro wins quickly and without any true struggle. THAT’S HER BOY!
Now they are on their way to the grand line.
The swords take the time to get accustomed to each other. Yubashiri is quick to accept their role in the ship, Luffy is captain and king, the rest of the crew is namaka. They protect the crew.
Sandai Kitsune is not as impressed. Why are they following the rubber boy? I mean as long as he brings her to a good fight then he’s alright in her book, but why protect him? Or the others? Swords are made to fight. If they attack we fight them.
Wado gets tried of trying to explain to a curse blade why she needs to care. It’s because Zoro cares! But it’s fine. She didn’t like their King at first either. Sandai Kitsune will understand soon.
Or Zoro won’t keep her around.
Maybe it’s best if Sandai Kitsune never understand why Luffy is King!
(She will. Once they get to the grandline. Once she sees Luffy and Zoro in action together. Once she see what it means to fight Luffy in Wiskey peaks)
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luverofralts · 9 months
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Arkhelios Adventures
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Roman went out to fetch the morning paper just like any other Tuesday. The dog absolutely refused to fulfill the stereotype and retrieve the paper for his owners, so that duty fell to Roman. The dog would still accompany him to the porch, but chose to observe only.
Most mornings, Roman fed the kids, read the paper and met up with Adrian at their restaurant if neither of them had other commitments. Business was picking up, or so they hoped as they tried to make sense of their budget and spreadsheets. It wasn't bringing in a lot of money, but anything was better than losing money.
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Adrienne stared at the elaborate cake in front of her and sighed. It wasn't uncommon to find baked goods lying on the kitchen counter that could be entered into competitions with their quality.
Luckily for the kids of the household, there was a training day at the school and classes were canceled. As much as Adrienne enjoyed going to the Princess Zarah Academy in Pleasantview, a day off school was a welcome change. Roman had insisted on her attending there despite his history with the school because it really did produce well-educated and connected students. Adrian had gone to Twikkii Island's military academy as a child and had hated every moment of it, so he had no complaints about sending their kids to Pleasantview.
Dad stress bakes, but he's really good at it. Has he not read his cards lately? It's obvious that he needs to let this restaurant dream go and open a bakery instead. Then at least he can earn some money for what he's good at.
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Abe gagged as the dog trotted by, reeking of garbage. Clearly, Renard had knocked the garbage bin over again for Abe to pick up. After Abe III was born, Abe cut down on his hours at the scientific lab he worked at and became a part time stay at home dad. Roman's hours varied depending on where he was needed. Abe III's birth had made Roman the primary breadwinner, which meant it was crucial that his restaurant improved. There was no way that Adrian would let the father of his children go bankrupt, but even a duke only had so much money to give away.
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"Abe, I'm worried about Dad."
Abe knelt down to be at the same eye level as his stepdaughter. The little girl looked as serious as she always did. Abe could never tell whether Adrienne was sick or worried or angry when the somber little girl wore the same serious expression all the time. It was something that worried Roman, and everyone hoped she'd grow out of it. No child should walk around the world like it was on her tiny shoulders, but Adrienne always seemed to. If she wasn't making cryptic prophecies or staring at her cards for hours, the little girl was chatting with spirits only she could see and giving her father long, sad looks. It was a minor miracle for Adrienne to open up to her parents and Abe wasn't about to fumble this situation. It might never happen again.
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"Hey, thanks for coming to me about your worries," he said, giving Adrienne a hug. "You don't need to worry about your dad, we're the grown ups and we're supposed to do the worrying. What's bothering you?"
"He's not fulfilling his destiny," Adrienne reported somberly. "He needs to stop stress baking and make it a proper business. Then he has to go to Pleasantview to see the queen. He needs to know something from her. It's really important."
"Rien, you're turning eleven soon, not thirty-five," Abe said quietly. "You don't have to worry about your dad, it's our job to worry about you and your siblings. I appreciate that you care a lot about your dad and want him to be happy, but he would want you to worry about your own life. Trust me, your father, Evren, and I will take care of your dad. You just focus on finding whatever makes you happy in life. Maybe you could try a new hobby, like painting?"
Adrienne was about to reply when she immediately sensed something in the air change. Someone was teleporting onto the lot. Her eyes widened dramatically and she instantly scurried away from her stepfather to stare out the window.
"Okay, so no on the painting idea then," Abe sighed. "How on earth am I supposed to help this kid when she defies all the parenting books?"
Adrian wouldn't be pleased with Adrienne's constant worry about Roman and their family. He'd already spent hours at the school talking with teachers about his daughter's behavior. Since Princess Zara Royal Academy had supernatural specialties, they all hoped that Adrienne would find her future there, but so far, her concern for her parents and family hadn't eased and she hadn't made any friends who might help her.
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Adrienne ran past her father, who was in the middle of jamming a screwdriver into Abe III's toy robot. The thing was a safety hazard, but Roman wasn't convinced that he was making it any safer with his efforts. Buying a new one would be expensive, so he preferred to try and repair it first.
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Someone knocked on the front door, jolting Roman from his work. He could see Adrienne peering excitedly out the window. If she was excited, maybe it was Adrian meeting him at the house early or Theo teleporting in to see his parents before school. It didn't happen often, but a father could hope.
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Instead of his ex-husband or son, Roman was greeted by Jorah and Cindra Durant at the door.
"Roman! So good to see you," Cindra gushed. "We were just in the area and thought we'd drop by. Thanks so much for the donated baked goods. Jorah raised a lot of money with them for children's programs in both Strangetown and Twikkii Island. Your contribution was very much appreciated by Queen Maura and her lovely children."
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"Uh, thanks?"
Roman was soon enveloped in a hug from Cindra. Before he could ask what the two Durants wanted from him, she continued with her confident exclamations.
"Now, you know that Trent and I try to use our platform as prince and duchess to help those in need. We're compensated by and work with the queen and often, her children. So, as a gesture of gratitude for your support with the queen's programs, we've arranged for a representative of the royal Siew family to thank you in person."
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"Roman Bellamy, her Highness Princess Georgiana Siew is here to thank you for your generosity," Jorah declared, gesturing to the little girl behind him.
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Roman's heart stopped in his chest as he watched the girl before him play with bubbles. She had accidentally swallowed some of the soap, much like Theo and his sisters had done when they were younger.
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She did look like Theo up close, just as Adrian had told him. They had the same eyes, there was no denying it. This was his daughter. She was real, tangible and very determined to ignore what the adults around her were saying. She was just as perfect as Roman had always imagined her to be.
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"Georgie, honey, remember why we're here?" Cindra prompted. The little girl dropped her bubbles and reluctantly faced Roman with a grudging look.
"Thank you for helping my mommy. Your cakes are really good. I like the ones with sprinkles best."
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"You like the ones with sprinkles?" Roman repeated. In all the media he'd scoured over the years, he'd never heard his daughter's voice. It was like hearing any of his other children's first words. Georgiana had a voice and opinions about his work and it was beyond any of Roman's understanding trying to process this all at once. He had simply been trying to get his mail and suddenly his world had been changed.
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"Yeah, and the chocolate ones too," Georgiana elaborated. "My brother tries to take them all, but Viola helps me steal some before he comes down for dinner."
"I'm so glad that you enjoy them," Roman replied, still feeling unsure that this wasn't some kind of hallucination. "I can send you more anytime you want. My daughters live in Twikkii Island with their dad sometimes. Maybe you could play together."
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"This is such an amazing result," Jorah gushed, watching Roman's depressive gloom lift. "We did a good thing, sis."
"Excuse me? We did nothing. My husband and I talked to Maura’s PR team. I told Ulyssa where she could go with her entitlement and you cowered behind our father."
Jorah's face fell a little, unable to dispute Cindra's words. Still, wholesome family moments were what Jorah lived for, and he refused to let reality damper the satisfaction he felt seeing Roman speak to his daughter for the first time.
"I told you I was sorry," Jorah whispered to avoid Roman overhearing their conversation. "Valerian and I are going to set boundaries for our family. I promised him and I'm not going to break a promise to my husband."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Cindra replied, rolling her eyes. "You set your boundaries while Trent and I request the presence of Maura’s children at the fundraising event that supports children's programs. My plan gets Roman a yearly meet and greet with his child and your plan does what exactly?"
Jorah scowled at his sister, but tried to remain positive. His sister might have better connections than he did, but he'd still tried his best. The important thing was that Roman had met Georgiana and Maura hadn't threatened to burn Arkhelios to the ground as a result. He'd done what he could and hopefully Roman was going to be in a better mental place as a result.
"Okay, Georgie, we have to get going," Cindra announced, looking at her watch. "Your mom expects you back in class in half an hour. Say your goodbyes to Mr. Bellamy, and let's get moving."
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motivationavatar · 8 months
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10 Simple Ways to Motivate Yourself to Get Up in the Morning
10 Simple Ways to Motivate Yourself to Get Up in the Morning. Looking for ways to jumpstart your morning routine? Discover practical tips on how to motivate yourself to get up and conquer the day ahead. Say goodbye to snooze buttons and hello to a productive morning!
How To Get Out of Bed More Easily | Wake Up Early with ENERGY
"10 Simple Ways to Motivate Yourself to Get Up in the Morning How To Get Out of Bed More Easily | Wake Up Early with ENERGY Video "10 Simple Ways to Motivate Yourself to Get Up in the Morning
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Reasons to Get Up in the Morning
Getting out of bed in the morning can be a struggle for many people. The comfort of a warm, cozy bed can often be tempting to stay in, especially on colder mornings. However, there are multiple reasons why it is important to motivate yourself to get up and start your day. In this article, we will explore various facets of why and how to motivate yourself to get up in the morning.
Health Benefits of Getting Up Early
Getting up and starting your day early has numerous health benefits that can contribute to a better quality of life. Some of these benefits include:
- Boosted Immune System: The early morning sun is a great source of Vitamin D, which helps strengthen our immune system. Additionally, getting up early allows us to get outside and breathe in fresh air, boosting our oxygen intake and promoting a healthier immune system.
- Better Sleep Quality: When we stick to a consistent sleep schedule, our body’s natural sleep-wake cycle is regulated, leading to better quality sleep. This, in turn, leads to improved mental and physical health.
- Higher Productivity: Waking up early gives us more time in the day to complete tasks and be productive. Additionally, studies have shown that individuals who wake up early tend to be more proactive and have a better sense of time management.
- Improved Mental Health: Starting your day early allows time to prioritize self-care activities, such as exercise, meditation, or reading, which can greatly improve mental health and reduce stress levels.
With these benefits in mind, let's explore some practical tips for motivating yourself to get up in the morning.
1. Set a Consistent Sleep Schedule
As mentioned earlier, maintaining a consistent sleep schedule can greatly benefit our health, both physically and mentally. Try to set a regular bedtime and wake-up time, allowing for at least 7-9 hours of sleep each night. This will help regulate your body's internal clock, making it easier to wake up in the morning.
2. Utilize Natural Light
Our body's natural rhythm is affected by natural light, so try to expose yourself to sunlight as soon as you wake up. Open the curtains or go for a quick walk outside to take advantage of the natural light. This will signal to your body that it's time to be awake.
3. Try Meditation or Mindfulness
Practicing meditation or mindfulness in the morning can help reduce stress and anxiety, allowing for a more relaxed and focused start to the day. This can also improve your overall mood and motivation.
4. Plan an Exciting Morning Activity
Sometimes, having something to look forward to in the morning can be a great motivation to get out of bed. Plan an activity that you enjoy, whether it's going for a run, reading a book, or cooking a special breakfast. This will give you something to look forward to and start your day on a positive note.
5. Create a Morning Routine
Having a morning routine can help you stay on track and make getting up in the morning a habit. This can include things like making your bed, drinking a glass of water, or listening to your favorite music. Having a consistent routine can help make waking up feel more natural and less of a chore.
6. Set Goals or Intentions
Having goals or intentions for the day can provide a sense of purpose and motivation to get up in the morning. Write down what you hope to accomplish or what you want to focus on for the day, and use that as motivation to get out of bed and start your day.
7. Reward Yourself
Sometimes, a little positive reinforcement can go a long way. Plan a small reward for yourself in the morning, whether it's a cup of your favorite coffee or a few minutes of reading. Knowing that you have something to look forward to can make getting up feel more worthwhile.
8. Switch Up Your Alarm
If you find yourself constantly hitting the snooze button when your alarm goes off, consider changing it up. Try setting an alarm tone that is more upbeat or motivating. You can also try placing your alarm in a different location in your room so that you have to physically get up to turn it off.
9. Get an Accountability Partner
Having someone to hold you accountable can be a great motivator. Find a friend or family member who is also trying to improve their morning routine and hold each other accountable. Knowing that someone else is counting on you to get up can give you that extra push to get out of bed.
10. Prepare for the Next Day
Eliminate any unnecessary stress or tasks in the morning by preparing for the next day the night before. This can include packing your lunch, laying out your clothes, or making a to-do list. Waking up to an already organized and prepared start to the day can greatly reduce any morning anxiety and make it easier to get up.
11. Find Your Motivation
Take a few moments to reflect on why you want to make a change and motivate yourself to get up in the morning. Whether it's to achieve personal goals or simply improve your overall wellbeing, remind yourself of your motivation when you feel like hitting the snooze button.
12. Practice Gratitude
Starting your day with a grateful mindset can make a big difference in your mood and motivation. Take a moment in the morning to think of three things you're grateful for, whether it's your health, loved ones, or simply a good night's sleep. This positive mindset can help set the tone for the rest of your day.
13. Be Patient and Kind to Yourself
It's important to remember that change takes time and it's normal to have bad days. Don't beat yourself up if you struggle to get up in the morning some days. Be patient and kind to yourself, and remember that every day is a new opportunity to try again.
14. Be Consistent
Lastly, consistency is key. It may take some time to adjust to a new morning routine and to motivate yourself to get up early, but with consistency, it will eventually become a habit. Stay committed and remember the benefits of getting up in the morning to help you stay motivated.
10 Simple Ways to Motivate Yourself to Get Up in the Morning
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Motivating oneself to get up in the morning can be a challenging task. Many of us struggle with hitting the snooze button multiple times, dreading the thought of leaving our warm and cozy beds. However, as the famous saying goes, The early bird catches the worm, motivating oneself to get up early can have a significant impact on our lives. In this guide, we will explore various strategies and techniques that can help you get up in the morning, without the need for an introduction, FAQ, or conclusion.
Industry Impact:
The simple act of getting up early can have a significant impact on our daily lives. It can improve our productivity, give us a head start on our day, increase our energy levels, and even enhance our mental and physical well-being. Many successful individuals attribute their success to their habit of rising early in the morning. By getting up early, we can have more time to get things done and tackle the day's challenges with a fresh and positive mindset.
Technological Innovations:
In today's fast-paced world, technology has made it easier for us to get up in the morning. Various apps and devices can help us track our sleep patterns and wake us up at the most optimal time, ensuring we feel well-rested and refreshed. Some alarm clocks even come equipped with features such as sunrise simulation, which mimics the natural light of the rising sun, making it easier for our body to wake up.
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libradusk · 3 years
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Touch Starved | Jesse
Word Count: 6.8k
Pairing: Jesse x Reader
Summary: A night in a Coruscant hotel gifts you plenty of quality time with your lover (and a few noise complaints as well)
Warnings/Content: Explicit smut, mention of alcohol, AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), established relationship, some playful sexual power play, petnames galore, 69 action, a few light spanks to the backside and some tender shaaaaaaaggin’. (And Libra’s frequent overuse of italics.)
a/n: dedicated to the one and only @morganas-pendragons​, congrats on finishing your third year of uni Kayla, I’m so proud of you! <3
And of course, a huge thank you to everyone who has continued to support my writing. It’s been a really horrid couple of months for me, but slowly, things are starting to improve. Thank you all for being understanding while I take a much-needed continued break from social media.
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CT-5597
Jesse
Jesse who is infamously cocky and funny, if not dangerously outspoken and headstrong during even the most tense of situations. Jesse who is renowned for caring so deeply and so fiercely for what he believes in, and loving even fiercer than that. Jesse, who will never hesitate to be the first on the dance floor at 79’s and the last to leave.
Jesse, the soldier, the brother, the undeniably charismatic individual. The man whose smile would warp the lines of the tattoo draped across his cheekbone with how widely it stretched.
Jesse, who everyone knew would continue to belt out barrack-born anthems that sung of the glory of the Republic, even after he was turfed out of the bar and sent stumbling through the neon maze of Coruscant’s streets until the rising sun inevitably forced the migraine from within his skull.
Though no soul who met him could ever even hope to deny that Jesse was a character, these descriptions and stories told fondly over the shoulders of comrades and acquaintances alike barely scratched the surface of the Jesse you knew.
You can see him now, slipping out of the bravado and bellowing laughter even as he throws it back alongside Fives on the dancefloor, a drink in his fist and a grin that doesn't quite light up his eyes the way it usually does. His gaze stumbles under the weight of the lights and music until it gives way to an expression that looks more detached than enraptured towards the music and movement enveloping him. Within another beat however, it has dragged its way over to you, and finally (and perhaps mercifully), Jesse appears to bloom more into himself the longer it rests on your seated form.
You throw him a pursed smile over your drink, knee bouncing underneath the table. Anticipation and concern peppers your nerves and drives the way your fingers twirl your straw between them. All around you, his brothers continue to laugh and joke between themselves, none the wiser to the energy crackling unspoken across the stretch between the booth and the dancefloor, simply grateful for the fresh taste of decompression bestowed upon their squadron by recently granted leave. Beside you, Kix’s elbow knocks into your side as he adjusts his posture to spread out into a more comfortable position. The medic is quick to apologise, but he needn’t have bothered; your attention is firmly glued elsewhere and as he follows your stare, he soon sees why.
You miss the way Kix smirks warmly into his pint as he turns to recount another tall tale to the troopers sharing the table, ensuring that he unravels the story in such a way that he sweeps up the remnants of their attention with a timed wave of his wrist and a comically timed jab at Hardcase’s expense.
It only takes a matter of minutes more until the other Jesse, your Jesse, steps out of his boisterous skin and slinks over to you.
The surface of his bare hand feels scorching hot as you rise to meet him halfway and grasp it with your own. Your palm is chilly from nursing your drink, the same one that now sat barely touched and long forgotten atop the crowded table. Jesse’s appears to radiate with the heat of a sun in comparison, clammy and blistering as it engulfs your own whilst its twin all but throws his half-empty glass of liquor onto a nearby waitress droid’s tray.
It teeters for a moment before tumbling over and sending a sticky cascade spilling over the side of the metal disk towards the floor below.
There's little time left to waste. You're not content to simply sit back and sweat out the minutes until you can have him completely alone this time, done with sitting back until the alcohol burns your throat and the flash of lights drowns out the grainy buzz in your temples.
Grabbing him more firmly by the hand now, you move to tug him past the straggling group of wide-eyed troopers that have congregated in the wake of Jesse’s stride. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care anymore if they talk, not while your pulse is twisting louder in your ears with each brush of his thumb against your wrist.
The moment the chill of night time air hits his lungs, the hidden Jesse emerges completely, eyes honeyed but focused as the last few curls of boyish laughter die on his tongue. He shifts his grip to lace his fingers with your own as you weave between the lingering bodies outside. Most here pay little attention to the pair of you, too concerned with casting their own troubled gazes towards the city skyline as they smoke contraband cigarettes and turn over glass bottles between bruised knuckles.
You try to choke down the strange feeling rising in your throat at the sight, focusing instead on the warmth that continues to radiate from Jesse’s body as he trails down the street closely behind you. Despite the charged air that surrounds you both, it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve yet to actually speak a word to him since entering the bar, his late entrance alongside Fives meaning that you had already been swamped with the attention of familiar faces, all of whom were equally eager to unwind and catch up.
But now, as you sneak a sideways glance at him and catch just how tightly his blacks seem to cling to the defined muscles of his torso, you feel that if you were to open your mouth in anything more than a smile, you wouldn’t be able to trust what your brain would make you say, or do for that matter.
Your chest feels so tight with emotion that even breathing feels like a strained action. It had been a tough few weeks, and right now all you wanted, all you needed, was your Jesse all to yourself in the self-made sanctuary only privacy could help you build. A squeeze of your hand assures you that through his tipsy intrepidity, he most certainly feels the same way.
Jesse remains uncharacteristically silent as you hail down an air taxi, though you can clearly feel his eyes on your face in your peripheral vision as you lean forward to speak to the driver through her open window. You attempt to flash him a smile once you finish relaying the last of your directions, but it comes out more strained than you intend, even as you squeeze his hand back in reassurance. Tired is truly an understatement, and for a moment, it dawns on you that there’s a real possibility you might end up falling asleep mid journey.
That is, until you feel the wide, warm expanse of Jesse’s palm deliver a gentle pat to your backside. The action succeeds in ushering you into the back of the cab, and having you feel very suddenly awake again in one fluid motion.
You don't need to shoot him a raised eyebrow over your shoulder to know that he's smirking.
A sharp, very clearly fake cough from the front of the taxi cuts down the heat spreading downwards from your face before it can settle deeper. In the reflective surface of the rear view mirror, you catch the disgruntled glare of the now very unimpressed Twi’lek cabbie. The twitch of her pursed lips accompanied by the dull tap of her blunt, painted fingernails against a bright red sign that sits mounted on the dashboard.
Your stomach flips in embarrassment as you scan over the bold printed words that are listed upon it.
NO EATING/DRINKING
NO SMOKING
NO SASSING THE DRIVER
NO WANDERING HANDS
Where Jesse was smirking before, he now struggles to suppress on a snicker as he stretches to practically lounge across the backseat, clearly unbothered by the stink eye currently being thrown directly his way now by the woman in the driver’s seat - even daring to throw up his hands in mock-innocence in return. For a moment you’re concerned she might actually throw you both back out onto the curb, but instead, you’re just met with another exaggerated roll of her eyes before she throws the well-loved vehicle into reverse and takes off down the neon-painted highway.
With a ghost of a sigh, you lean back slightly into the worn leather seat as the streets of Coruscant rush past your window in a blur of colour and noise. Your gaze slips past the glass, to the apathetic, focused expression of your driver, and finally to your lover once more. Whilst dizzying to watch through the smeared windows, you find yourself helplessly bewitched with how the sharp glow of the city lights splash and dissipate almost rhythmically across Jesse’s face and body. Red, fuchsia and blue drip down his skin before disappearing into the void of his blacks each time you pass under a particularly bright stretch of neon-signage. Whilst beautiful, the glow also highlights just how deeply cut the bags under his eyes are now.
A not-so-subtle squeeze to your thigh unravels the grip twisting around your heart before it can truly poison your mood.
The tenderness in Jesse’s eyes cuts through the dark interior of the cab more brightly than any streetlamp could ever hope to, lips cocking into a half-smile as his attention shifts completely to you once more.
“You okay, mesh’la?” his voice is barely above a low purr as he finally speaks, but it vibrates down to your stomach as though he’d growled it in your ear, his thumb rubbing a mindless, but soothing pattern just above the joint of your knee all the while.
“Yeah... are you?” you shift slightly to face him better, the bottom half of your body twisting somewhat awkwardly against the grasp of the seatbelt clamped across your middle. You reach downwards to curl your own digits gently over his wrist, eyes momentarily darting back towards the driver’s mirror on instinct. There's a brief second where you’re certain you catch her tattooed brows furrowing further and those sharp eyes dart to catch yours in warning, but now at least, they remain focused on the busy road ahead, and you risk leaning over closer towards the trooper beside you. His smile gives way to a subtly weak grin in response.
“Just peachy.” 
Half lies from both of you, but there's little time to dwell on them as the air taxi finally pulls into a stop outside your destination.
There's somewhat of an awkward pause as Jesse struggles to get the door open, the lock jamming with his first attempt and sending his shoulder barrelling against the window with an inelegant thump. You cringe a little at the sound, but the Twi’lek leaning over the shoulder of her seat seems unphased as she silently holds out her hand, stony face sporting the same cocked eyebrow and deadpan expression that you’ve become uncomfortably familiar with.
Your strained thank you is met with little more than a grunt of mild disapproval as she turns to fiddle with the radio embedded in her dashboard, effectively ending your transaction and ordering you from her car as she throws your handed credits into a worn-looking box perched on the passenger seat.
“Well she was cheerful.” Jesse’s voice is playful as he moves to grab your hand in earnest now as you approach the towering building in front of you. Despite the lightness of his tone and the way you exhale through your nose in mock-exasperation towards his joke, the air between you is more charged than ever now that you’re so close to finally being alone together for the first time in weeks.
Or was it months? Time had a funny way of twisting away from you as of late.
Nevertheless, all that stood in your way was a brief check in and elevator ride up towards the room you had hurriedly booked for the occasion.
The hotel itself was modest, sporting simple, clean architectural design and minimal decoration just short of clinical in nature. Not that you cared for the details, all that mattered to you was that it provided a temporary sanctuary for you and Jesse to retreat to for the night, far enough away from the pulsing heart of Coruscant that, for a short time at least, you could pretend there was no war, no constant presence of fear, pain and suffocating army regulations.
Just you and Jesse. Your Jesse.
His resolve winds and snaps the moment your feet cross the threshold of the elevator.
“Mesh’la,” his beloved nickname for you rolls off his tongue almost salaciously as he all but collapses against you, pinning you to the cold stretch of corridor with the press of his body. He groans it against your skin again as his lips meet with your pulse point, grinding against you with an overspill of passion that has you mewl and almost drop your keycard with the force of it. Through the building fog in your mind, you wonder if the fact he can finally announce his affections for you aloud and so openly here is what has finally pushed him over the edge.
Or perhaps it's the way you writhe and claw at him desperately in response, half of your mind seemingly determined to have him take you right here and now before you can even hope to complete the last few steps towards your awaiting hotel room.
“Jesse-” you’re not sure if the drawl of his name that slips from your tongue is meant to be in warning or wanting, but it's quickly swallowed up by the trooper as he finally kisses you.
Maker, does it feel good to taste him again. His unrelenting passion, his warmth, you can’t help but want it all, and he’s ever happy to give it to you - groaning into your open mouth, all teeth and tongue and heart as he hurriedly caresses your thighs, your hips, the back of your neck in turn - fingertips mapping out your body with an agonising familiarity that has your knees buckling and restraint crumbling even more.
Jesse practically growls as you break apart to gasp for air, though your panting does little to deter him from continuing his barrage of kisses, as he angles his head to trail them across your jaw and down the junction of your throat, mouthing his desire against the thrumming beat of your heart.
“Missed having you like this - in my arms - all to myself…” 
Each part of his confession is broken apart by the scratch of his stubble and the nip of his teeth against your skin until he trails off into something intelligible - burying his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh that sings as much of exhaustion as it does longing.
It's the briefest moment of weakness amidst the suffocating heat of his passion towards you, but it's just enough to allow you to scrape back some semblance of clarity with a shuddering breath of your own.
Delicately, as though he was crafted from glass and not the corded muscle you knew to hide beneath his clothes, you run the fingers of your left hand down the length of his spine, relishing in the shudder that ripples through him in turn.
“Jesse,” your voice already sounds hoarse as you turn to place a kiss against his temple, “let’s get inside of our room and you can have all of me, all night.”
He almost wrestles the keycard from your hands at that.
---
The room itself is as modestly decorated as the rest of the hotel. A brief glance around tells you there’s a basic vanity, a desk, what appears to be the seam and switch of a built in wardrobe, and to the right of the doorway: the entrance to the refresher.
But what truly captures the attention of both of you is the king size bed in the very centre of the room, as well as the open stretch of Coruscant skyline that shines in through the expansive window to it’s left, dappling the navy-coloured sheets with milky diamonds of light.
Jesse grants you mere seconds to appreciate the view before he’s all over you once more.
You find yourself stumbling clumsily backwards against the newly closed door, attempting several times in vain to get the locking mechanism to work through Jesse’s onslaught of kisses. A gasp of what you’re not sure is relief or pleasure (or maybe both) leaves you when you hear it finally click into place just as his lips fasten themselves to suckle at a particularly sensitive spot just above your collarbone.
Each kiss unravels another layer of the Jesse you know and love, each desperate touch and whispered endearment only stoking the fire helping him flare to life in his full glory once more. It's intoxicating and overwhelming in the best way possible, and as he gifts you another taste of the sickly-sweet cocktail that still lingers on his tongue, you’re reminded of the very first time he’d kissed you:
It had been a night not too unlike this one, in which you had finally related to his begging for you to accompany him and the boys on a night on the town. He’d gathered you up in his arms the moment you’d finally relaxed enough to join him on the dancefloor of 79’s, and not long after, you’d backed each other into a corner of the dingy nightclub, with Jesse keening into your open mouth and rutting against you as though struck with the fear that he would never be given another chance to touch you, and the eager remorse of a man that wished he’d done this a long time ago.
Of course, the night had ended with you dragging the drunken tonne of him back to his bunk - though even through his stupor, he’d managed to drag you down after him before passing out at the snap of a finger, face buried securely in the crook of your shoulder the entire night.
And from that point, you couldn’t imagine a future without him at your side ever again.
Jesse’s passion for all he does burns hot, but it's in stolen moments like these, that his touch seems to burn hotter than anything else.
You feel it now as his hands begin to wander once again, tugging at your clothing and gripping at the skin beneath with such a need that it borders on bruising - though you struggle to shrug off how his fingers carry a gnawing tiredness beneath their eager twitching.
The revelation causes a different kind of pang in your stomach, but you force it down and away.
This man deserves to be spoiled.
Shoving half-heartedly at his broad chest, your command only wavers slightly with the struggle to catch your breath as your lips break apart with an audible pop.
“Strip.”
Your head feels light as you step backwards and straighten up your posture as best you can, dishevelled clothing and panting aside. You attempt to give him your sternest face as you issue the demand, but you’re certain you hardly look the part with what you know to be kiss-swollen lips and a chain of love bites adorning your neck.
Jesse hardly fares any better, face ruddy with a blush that creeps down past the high collar of his undershirt, and pupils blown so wide and glassy that they resemble the depths of space itself. His eyes had always stood out to you, even long before the two of you became an item. Though he and his brothers may share the same eye colour, the fire in Jesse’s was everything, it was something you never, ever wanted to see fade.
Those same eyes blink owlishly at you now as you stand firm in front of him, his hands still comically half-raised as though frozen mid-caress. It doesn't take longer than a second for him to whir back into action, however.
His movements are inelegant and rushed as he begins to tear away his shirt from his heaving chest. There's no overt striptease like he’s performed for you before, just pure, unfiltered desperation to feel your bare skin against his own. But even through the clumsiness, you catch the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex with thinly-veiled intention - a reminder to you of the strength he possesses - as well as just how easily the role of dominant could be flipped against you with his slightest change of whim.
The knowledge of this only excites you more.
You decide to follow his example and quickly shed your own garments until you’re both down to your underwear. The walls of the room are practically sweating with the desire that thrums between you now, and you both take a shared moment to admire the other in the dimmed glow of the lighting. Your mouth waters involuntarily as you sink into the sight of him, the reality of finally getting your lover alone and bare after so long settling warmly into your core, twisting delightfully tighter with each second that ticks by.
Jesse can’t help but glow with an obvious pride under your hungry gaze. A familiar smirk blooms across his face, spreading in a way that warms his expression further until the mirth crinkles at the very corners of his eyes. You can't help but smile right back despite the distraction of thrumming in your ears and the slickness that's gathering between your thighs.
It's a sensation that's only amplified when his eyes stop raking over your body to lock with your own, staring you down with an energy that's so charged that the breath skips in your throat.
“Shocked you speechless?” his voice sings with a smile as he taunts you, head tilted in a way that highlights the juncture of his throat.
You scoff in response, but step even closer all the same, noses practically touching now as your lips brush together.
“In your dreams, lover boy.”
He raises a thick brow at the cheesy nickname, but you note how his breath catches as you reach out to push lightly at his chest, palm spreading warmly across his pectoral.
“I dream about you a lot, actually,” Jesse’s long eyelashes tickle the apple of your cheekbones as he lightly presses his mouth against yours in a chaste kiss, “in fact, I had an especially lovely dream about you last night.”
Your stomach flutters a little more at the implication, but you press on, edging him gently further towards the bed until the back of his calves hit the edge.
“Yeah?” your fingernails claw down the ladder of his abs, marvelling in the way the muscles flex and tense with your caresses, “why don’t you tell me about it?”
You kiss him again, catching his bottom lip between your teeth with a tug that leaves him melting against you, the heat of his arousal peaking past the waistband of his underwear to graze your stomach as you press even closer.
“Well,” his voice is as strained as his breathing now, strong hands moving to stroke gently over your upper arms before his grip suddenly tightens, “I think it's better if I show you.”
The sound of surprise that leaves you as your back hits the mattress is more of a squeak. In the briefest of moments, Jesse has successfully managed to flip the situation to place himself in control once more. A heavy, yet careful weight pins you atop the silken blue sheets by your hips, a reignited, boyish gleam twinkling in his eyes as he grins up at you from the lower half of your body.
That cocky, gorgeous, bastard.
It's frustrating, but you can’t deny he looks good between your thighs.
“Ah, ah, ah~” he tuts at you, effectively cutting off any grumble of annoyance before it can leave your lips, “it isn't polite to cut someone off mid demonstration, mesh’la.”
Maker, give you strength.
His mouth and tongue are dangerously hot as he trails a haphazard stream of kisses over your hips, the sensation is at once too much and not quite enough, leaving you panting and bucking towards the smirking lot of him to no avail. When he begins to all but purr in contentment as he mouthes over your clothed sex, you have to quite literally bite back a scream of frustration.
“Jesse-”
“Shhhhhh…”
You let out a sob as your head falls back to hit the pillow, the hot rush of air against the dampness of your underwear too much to bear. Jesse chuckles in response, thoroughly enjoying inflicting such a sweet agony on you.
“Don't act so mad at me, cyar’ika,” Jesse pouts as he bats those dark lashes up at you, intent on sucking a bruise into your inner thigh as he does, “just tryin’ to appreciate how gorgeous you are.”
There's no sign of joviality in his confession this time, and your heart warms at the sincerity that glows in those heavy-lidded eyes of his.
A quick snap to the band of your underwear parts the lovesick fog accumulating in your head, forcing your attention back to the man currently toying with the elastic of your undergarments once more.
“Focus, mesh’la~,” his tone is purposefully playful, but his eyes dark with challenge as he flashes you another winning grin, “I need your full attention to tell this story, you want to hear how it ends, right?”
Another kiss, this time placed just against where you ache for him most, the fabric posing as the final barrier to your hard-won reward. Fuck, this man was going to kill you.
You’re torn between searching the fog of your brain for another retort, or giving in and letting him wreck you completely and honestly. Jesse doesn't seem too keen to grant you the time to weigh your options, fingers tapping impatiently against the curve of your hip with an inquisitive hum as you agonise over your choices.
The throb in your core wins out, and you relent, albeit a little bitterly,
“I want to know-” you cut off with strangled gasp as he lathes his tongue against the very inner pocket of your thigh, “please Jesse - fuck - please I want you, I need you.”
The man in question stares down at you with satisfied affection as you buck up to chase a phantom touch once again, groaning in annoyance when you find nothing but the weighted press of his forearms caging your thighs open to his mercy.
“...All right.” 
A sigh of relief leaves you at that before you can reign it back, and he chuckles warmly at the sound, stroking tiny circles across your flesh.
“You’ll always have me, mesh’la,” the sincerity in Jesse’s tone makes your breath hitch further as he edges towards where the seam of your underwear meets your left hip, his hot breath causing yet another flurry of goosebumps to rise in its wake, “but let me show you how much it means to me to have you.”
Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, Jesse ducks to catch the side of your underwear in his teeth before dragging it slowly downwards. The material tickles slightly as it catches over your thighs, though it's a mere whisper of a sensation compared to the throb that hits you as your dripping core finally is bared to the chill of the air.
Jesse hums appreciatively at the sight of you spread out beneath him as he leans back to finish pulling away your underwear, haphazardly throwing away the offending garment to join the other scattering of clothing that now decorates the carpet. You bite your lip and raise your eyebrows in response, taking advantage of his momentary lapse in focus to nudge your knee against his hip.
“You too, mesh’la.” You roll the nickname over your tongue, delighting in how the blood rushes to his cheeks with a fervour at having his nickname for you thrown right back at himself. 
He scoffs a little at your cheekiness, but indulges your command all the same, practically  leaping from the edge of the bed to stand and unceremoniously yank down his boxer briefs. You attempt to hook your legs around his midsection as he rejoins you atop the bed, but he stops you with a slow shake of his head, caging your thighs open with his arms once more.
“So eager!” he sighs in mock-annoyance as you huff and roll your eyes beneath him, simply chuckling as you edge further into frantic desperation.
Little do you know it's taking every ounce of his own willpower to stop from delving into your cunt like it's his last meal.
Though the groan that leaves him as his eyes flicker down once more gives you an indication of how he's really feeling beneath the bravado. In that moment, the sight and sound of him has you feeling on top of the world despite being pinned from the hips down.
You’ve little time to bask in this feeling for long though, as in a moment, Jesse dives forward like a man starved. You throw your head back with a cry as the hot, wet push of his tongue hits the sensitive folds of your pussy, lapping open-mouthed kisses across the seam of your opening as his nose grazes your clit. Stars above, your head feels heavy as you buck shamelessly, chasing the heat of his mouth as he tilts his head to tongue-fuck you deeper, the burn of his flesh against yours as he holds you down the only thing truly grounding you at this point.
To his credit, Jesse takes your writhing in stride, accommodating the frantic movements of your hips with firm, but loving caresses as he places a particularly heavy kiss right against your clit that leaves you breathily calling out his name. He lets out a particularly needy groan at the sound, one that vibrates directly across your thrumming bundle of nerves and hits you like a shock of cold water to the face.
You shudder back to reality, head still spinning with the promise of a quickly approaching orgasm, but enough renewed sense to prop yourself up onto shaking elbows to take in the sight of him. Jesse looks just as wrecked as you feel, eyes closed as he revels in the taste and feel of you beneath his tongue and fingers. A single jewel of sweat beads down the prong of his tattoo that reaches his temple in what you're not sure is overexertion, or the strain of keeping his own pursuit of pleasure in check to focus on yours.
He’s all but thrusting desperately into the air as you reach forward to gently grasp his jaw with shaking digits.
“Jesse…” you trail off as you catch the way his chin glistens with what you’re not sure is saliva, your essence, or a lewd concoction of both, “let me make you feel good too.”
He’s slack jawed and glossy-eyed, but his body is oddly pliable as you tug him up towards your face for a sloppy kiss that leaves you both moaning and grasping for the other. You’re the one to break away first, shooting him a wobbly grin as you pant to regain your breath. His fingers find your face this time, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you with such wonder that it leaves you blushing once more. He remains speechless even as you break apart with a kiss to his open palm, positioning your body to crawl down his torso until you’re face-to-head with his arousal. Jesse seems to catch on quickly to your intentions, grasping hold of your hips to position your lower half over his face - even gracing your backside with a light slap that causes you to jolt in surprise. You attempt to flash him a glare, but the feeling of his broad palm soothing over the swell of your ass reduces you to hissing in pleasure instead, spine dipping before you can stop yourself from sinking lower towards his waiting lips.
Determined not to be so easily outdone, you move to flatten the length of your tongue against the head of his cock, delighting in the broken groan that shakes his chest as the taste of precum hits your taste buds. You let a moan of your own vibrate against the length of his cock as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper into your mouth, the feeling of his hot, panting breath against your cunt spurring you on. Jesse indulges in the feeling of you for a few moments longer before delving right back into eating you out. You can feel his smirk at the squeak of surprise that leaves you as he roughly pulls you back down to sit on his face, tongue lashing skilfully against your clit in a way that forces you to pull him from your mouth with a gasp for air.
It all falls away from you quickly after that, even as you pump at the slick length of his cock and attempt to focus on the way he twitches against your lips. In mere moments, your vision is stolen from you in a sudden rush of pure pleasure that has you half aware that you’re screaming Jesse’s name towards the ceiling. The trooper continues to lavish attention on you through the waves of your orgasm, tongue firmly lathing against the most agonisingly sensitive part of you as he holds you against him with a determinedly steady hand.
He gently drags the grip of his right hand to pet your thigh as you come down in shuddering gasps, the white slowly ebbing from your vision with the effort of a few slow blinks.
“Welcome back.”
Even in such a compromising position as this, he still has the gall to run his mouth. 
A calculated squeeze to the base of his cock has that taunt trail off into a hiss.
“You’re unbelievable.” Despite the impassive tone of voice you attempt to force out, you still curl into his touch as he slowly maneuvers your spent body to rest against the pillows once more.
“Yep, but you love it.” He winks as he shifts to support himself above you, those powerful forearms of his now caging your shoulders at each side as he places a chaste kiss against your clammy forehead. You can't help the laughter that spills from you as he moves to suddenly nuzzle into the crook of your neck, stubble tickling your already oversensitive nerves until you're pushing at his chest for him to release you.
“Because I love you, Jess.”
His expression melts at your confession, chest rising and falling in time with your own as he stares at you with such a tender longing that part of you almost feels like crying.
If you could block out the world and just stay like this with him, forever, then you would in a heartbeat. You'd tear down every star in the sky a million times over if it meant keeping him safe and loved.
If only you could.
“I love you, so much, cyare.” The sunny warmth of his grin spreads across the entirety of his face then. It's contagious, and instantly lifts you into giggling alongside him as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against your own.
“...Is this how things went in your dream?” Your heart turns to honey as you reach up to trace the lines of his tattoo where they drape over his cheek.
“This is even better.” He whispers the affirmation against your lips before stealing them in another deep kiss.
He grinds lazily against you as the kiss deepens, threading you ever closer together with a moan that has your hand frantically searching to loop your fingers through his own.
“Jesse,” your voice is strained with desire as the tip of his cock grazes against your entrance once again, “as wonderful as this is, I really want you inside me now.”
That pulls a genuine splutter of laughter from him, but he slips his free hand down to wrap one of your thighs around his waist all the same, shifting to his knees to brace himself against you whilst simultaneously keeping you pinned to the pillow with one hand gripping your own.
“Your wish is my command, my needy little love.”
Your breath leaves you with a sudden yelp as he finally snaps his hips forward and eases into you with a deep thrust, his public bone nestling against the swell of your clit as he buries himself to the hilt in your warmth. You catch his smile split even wider at your reaction before he begins to fuck you in earnest, never one to hold back for too long. The stretch of his cock has your eyes rolling and your free hand clawing at his shoulder for something to grip on to, but your body opens up to him effortlessly. 
You’ve danced with him like this so many times now that being connected to him feels as natural as breathing, despite the rolling cries that drip from your parted lips. Jesse drinks them down greedily with a barrage of kisses and growled praise between each thrust.
“That's it baby - keep making those pretty sounds for me.”
He's making plenty of pretty noises of his own, each of them peppered with sigh-like breaths that catch in his throat every time his hips stutter with the threat of losing his last semblance of control.
Hot tears of pleasure begin to gather behind your lashes as you fight to keep your eyes trained on the sight of him pounding into you. Even with the way your mind spins with pleasure, and how the light spilling from the window appears to cling and dance across the deep bronze of his skin in an ever shifting pattern, the thick lines of his tattoo, and the burn of his eyes remain steadfast - streamlining your focus towards the feeling of him grinding upwards against the sweetest spot inside of you again and again until all you can do is babble his name incoherently.
The sight of you coming apart beneath him only pushes him further, though you’re so overwhelmed at this point that you fail to notice how his fingers release your own to dip down between your bodies until the rough pad of his thumb collides with your clit once more.
A second orgasm rips through you with little extra warning - the coil in your stomach snapping so violently that it robs you of any remaining coherency and has you tightening around Jesse’s cock with a silent scream. You hear and feel him hit his peak right behind your own as he tenses with a shout of your name, barely catching himself as he folds over you and buries his cock as deep as he can reach.
And then, warmth: one that spreads across your insides before spilling down the innermost part of your thighs and onto the sheets below.
For a moment, there is only heavy panting as you both struggle to come back down to the present. Jesse breaks whatever silence has crawled between you with a dry-throated chuckle. The hand that had been twisted in the bedsheets beside your head moments before now moves to stroke the back of your head with a clumsy kind of care only Jesse could deliver.
You're still stuffed full of him even as he lifts himself to avoid crushing you, his thumb dipping across the apples of your cheeks to wipe away the loose trails of tears that streak your skin. He clears his throat before speaking, voice tired, but clear enough to reach you.
“You okay?”
You nod in reply, limbs heavy as you raise your arms to loop around his neck and bring him close for a prolonged kiss.
“Need anything?”
You hum in acknowledgment of his concern, but only snuggle closer in response before whispering against the thump of his pulse.
“Only you.”
He chuckles at that before chastely kissing the top of your head and slowly lifting to withdraw from you. You both groan at the loss of contact, but Jesse’s quick to flop down beside you and gather your body up in his arms once more.
“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, cyar’ika.” He traces over the marks left on your skin with an air of sentimentality, dipping his head to kiss over the particularly dark ones left across your neck and collarbone. They're reminders you’ll grumble about when you’re back in the right frame of mind, but you’ll find yourself cherishing them all the same for as long as they decorate your skin.
“Forever then.” You mumble sleepily against the protection his body extends to you, thoroughly spent in every way.
“Forever it is.” 
He’d already made that promise to himself long ago.
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IOTA Reviews: Mega Leech
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Like every cartoon ever made, today's episode is the environmental episode. We all know how high-quality those tend to be, right?
Let's get into the twelfth (chronologically the tenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Mega Leech.
We start off with the shyest girl in Marinette's class, Mylene, mentally preparing herself for a protest with her boyfriend, tough guy with a soft side, Ivan.
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Wow, real subtle foreshadowing there, writers.
The thing Mylene and Ivan are protesting is something called the “Oxygen Project” by Mayor Andre Bourgeois, which will supposedly create fresh air for Paris. To be fair, this isn't just a random character trait they slapped onto Mylene like what we've seen with other episodes this season to justify their new Akuma forms. Back in the Season 2 episode “Reverser”, a major plotpoint for the final act was that Andre was about to approve a project that would send trash into space, which Mylene and Ivan were protesting at, before the titular Akuma threatened to send the trash back to the Earth. This show can get weird at times.
Even though they're the only two protesters, Andre still has Officer Roger Raincomprix take them into custody. To his credit, Roger does try to resolve things diplomatically, and is very hesitant to take them to his car (even though they aren't handcuffed and there's no divider), he only does so when his job is threatened by Andre. And let's get the obvious joke out of the way now because there's going to be a lot of moments like this.
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Marinette sees the event from her house, and after running late to school resulting in a brief moment of Unfunny Marinette Slapstick, tells the class what's going on. Surprisingly, instead of ignoring the whole situation like every other episode she's been in, Ms. Bustier decides to actually be a teacher for once and calls Roger. She says that she'll supervise their protest while the rest of the class comes with her.
Back at the park, Andre is about to chop a tree down with a chainsaw, but is soon called out by Ms Bustier. Mylene calls out Andre for the obviously not eco-friendly project, but he soon plays an ad for the Oxygen Project.
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Huh. So this is how Druidia's canned air business took off.
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To be fair, this is actually a funny scene, as it does feel like an over the top commercial you'd see, especially the kind that gets promoted by a politician. Of course, this funny joke is soon followed yet another reminder that Marinette likes Adrien, because the writers assume the audience will forget if they aren't bashed over the head with this knowledge every episode.
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And as usual, Adrien ignores Marinette's odd behavior around him, but that's more because he's distracted by the ad, because he was told it was for perfume (did the oxygen line not give away the purpose of the commercial?). Quick question: Why is Gabriel taking part in this? Why is a fashion designer being commissioned to create a bottle for a government-sanctioned project? Does he just invest in random projects and hopes they'll go under so he can akumatize someone? As for Mylene, her classmates are naturally confused as to why she is opposed to this project if it's good for the environment. Her response is something that can ironically be used to criticize this very show when talking about the Oxygen Project.
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We then get a moment where, of course, Chloe is the one to say she doesn't care about trees despite having no real prominence in this episode. Seriously, this is the only line she gets and it's to remind the audience how much of an irredeemable monster she is.
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Oh my God, Astruc, why don't you just say she's a climate change denier while you're at it, seeing how you already view them as criminals? You clearly want to throw every negative character trait and label at her, don't you? If you're so crazy about hating her, why not make Chloe Captain Planet villain levels of evil?
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Marintte points out the obvious flaw in Andre's plan to stop pollution by selling air in plastic bottles that can easily pollute the ocean, which gives the Mayor a lot of bad press, and even though she's the one to say this, Mylene still shames her for ignoring her attempts to get people to protest because she was busy. Yes, the show is seriously trying to blame Marinette for not doing enough to help the environment on top of her various other responsibilities like PROTECTING THE CITY OF PARIS ON A DAILY BASIS.
The families of the kids come to support the protest, and Andre tries to call Gabriel for help, but he basically tells him to figure it out himself, supporting my earlier theory in the process. He transforms into Shadowmoth and sends an Akuma and an Amok to Andre. This transforms him into Malediktator again and and gives him a Sentimonster ally, the titular Mega Leech.
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Mega Leech is another example of a Sentimonster with a simple design but a really interesting set of powers. As soon as its summoned, Malediktator jumps into his mouth and summons an army of minature clones of himself (making me wonder why they didn't call the Sentimonster “Micromanager”) to jump into the ears of civilians and control them directly like Plankton in that one episode of SpongeBob. It's a pretty terrifying concept and a really clever extension of Malediktator's mind control powers.
Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and tries fighting off the Malediktator clones, but obviously gets overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. Marinette soon pretends to be possessed by a Malediktator clone to get Mylene to run away while she transforms, once again summoning her Lucky Charm as soon as she meets up with Cat Noir because the animators really want to show off the new suit. She uses the Lucky Charm, a single ice skate, to break the mayoral sash around one of the Malediktator clones and frees the Akuma and Amok, but Mega Leech is still around, along with the brainwashed civilians. She and Cat Noir realize that the Akumas and Amoks must have multiplied when Malediktator cloned himself. Ladybug tells Cat Noir to distract the Malediktator clones (the latter actually acknowledging how he always has to do that)
Ladybug meets up with Mylene in the sewer where she had escaped to earlier, only to find the girl crying. Ladybug offers Mylene the Mouse Miraculous, but she turns her down because of how scared she is. Unlike when they tried to do the same thing by having Zoe doubt herself in “Queen Banana”, this scene makes sense because Mylene has consistently been shown to be a very timid person. It feels much more believable to see this from her. Granted, it's undermined by Ladybug saying that Mylene is already like a superhero because of her protesting for a good cause. I get she's trying to reassure her, but the whole environmental lesson is kind of muddled by saying Marinette doesn't care about the environment because of how busy she was FIGHTING CRIME. Thankfully, the lesson is more about bravery being able to move onward in spite of fear.
Nevertheless, this still motivates Mylene to take the Mouse Miraculous and transforms into Polymouse.
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And boy, is it bad. I'm not trying to body shame Mylene here, I'm glad they didn't try and slim her down either, but I'm really not a fan of the color scheme for the suit. With the use of pink and white, it looks way too similar to Pigella.
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I get that they were trying to make Mylene look like a mouse, but I'm just really not a fan of the white gloves and boots. They stick out compared to Pigella, where they actually blended in with the color scheme. Then there's the actual suit itself. Why give the suit a hood if you're going to make it yet another skintight jumpsuit? At least with Carapace, they had more armor to help him resemble a turtle, but there's no excuse here. And finally, the hair. How can you take a girl with a very vibrant hairstyle, make it pink when transforming, cover it up, and then call it a day? There are just so many questionable design choices here. I don't think it's as laughably bad as Shadowmoth's suit, but it's really one of the weakest hero suits to be introduced recently.
I'd give my thoughts on how to improve it, but thankfully one of my anons gave their own ideas for a redesign.
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Thank you to whoever sent this in. You certainly get character design better than some of the animators on this show, and that's saying a lot given they're supposedly better than the ones at Pixar.
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Ladybug gives Polymouse the ice skate to use as a makeshift flail with her weapon, a jump rope, while she fights the Maledikator clones. Polymouse uses her power, Multitude, which turns her into a swarm of miniature clones to take on the horde of Malediktator clones and free the brainwashed civilians. Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir, but big surprise, Cat Noir gets brainwashed by a Malediktator clone. Sure, Polymouse frees him from the control, but I'm surprised Ladybug isn't more used to this happening by now.
Ladybug then gathers several temp heroes to help them out. She gives Kagami the Dragon Miraculous to become Ryuko, Nino the Turtle to become Carapace, Max the Horse to become Pegasus, and she gives back the Bee Miraculous to the super amazing Zoe so she can once again become the world's greatest superhero, Vesperia. There’s a brief joke where Cat Noir rushes to join the team pose, which could be seen as foreshadowing for future events, and if it is, good job, writers.
Pegasus uses his Voyage to teleport Vesperia above Mega Leech, where she uses her Venom on the Sentimonster, while Ryuko uses her Wind Dragon to gather all the scattered Akumas and Amoks freed by Polymouse for Carapace to trap in his Shelter. Ladybug purifies all the Akumas and Amoks, gives Andre a Magical Charm, tells him to rethink the Oxygen Project, and the heroes leave where Ladybug takes back all their Miraculous.
Back at the park, Andre decides to plant more trees in what's obviously not a desperate attempt to save his reputation. He may say he's doing the right thing, but I doubt investors will be happy that the project's being aborted just like that. We get one more hilarious moment where Marinette stutters around Adrien, who soon goes home and gets sent to his room by his father (because we just needed an Angstdrien Depreste scene this episode for some reason), who fidgets with his ring and stares ominously as the episode ends. And in case you live under a rock, this reignited a certain fan theory I'll be talking about in another post.
Overall, I thought this was a pretty decent episode. The environmentalism subplot was pretty standard for episodes like this, with how the antagonist is a rich asshole who doesn't see how he's harming the environment, and gets his mind changed by a hopeful youth. I'm glad Andre isn't Captain Planet villain levels of evil here, though I am glad the episode acknowledges that there's no single solution to stopping pollution, and that there needs to be more unity if we need to help the planet's situation.
While it had a bumpy first act, things really started to get interesting as soon as the action started. Questionable design aside, I thought Polymouse (who didn't even name herself in the episode) had a good first outing with the use of her powers coupled with the use of the Lucky Charm. The first act with Mylene really showcased her character and her courage in the face of adversity well. Part of me kind of wishes we could have seen her interact with Ivan while she was transformed, but then again, he was still brainwashed I think.
The other heroes honestly felt shoehorned in during the climax. I get that they helped gather all the Akumas and Amoks, but there was really no buildup to them appearing like in other episodes with multiple heroes.
The one major problem I have is how the episode tries to blame Marinette for not being as kind as Mylene because she didn't know about the protest, even though, as I have stated multiple times, SHE ROUTINELY SAVES PARIS EVERY EPISODE. I think that counts as saving the planet.
This episode had some flaws, but it was still pretty enjoyable, and it was one of the better episodes this season so far.
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not-xpr-art · 3 years
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Art Advice #3 - Drawing tips!
Hi everyone!
As you may know, every week or so I’m writing blog posts with art advice hints and tips for artists of any skill level in the hopes of helping some people out a bit! The tag is here so feel free to check out some of my other posts!
This week’s post is going to be some drawing tips I’ve picked up over the years that could hopefully be useful for beginner artists! 
(this is about 1800 words altogether btw)
Drawings tips!
I’m going to split this post up into little sections which will hopefully make it easier for you to scroll to find certain advice you’re particularly interested in!
Part 1 - How to get started?
I’m a firm believer that anyone can be an artist, regardless of what materials or equipment they have. So when it comes to my advice on what kind of materials I recommend for beginner artists, I’d mainly say ‘whatever you have’. 
But if that’s a bit vague, I’d essentially recommend you have a set of pencils which you can usually get relatively inexpensive online or in craft/art shops which range from 6B all the way to 6H (’B’ being for softer, darker pencils, often good for shading, and ‘H’ for the harder pencil leads which are best for much lighter shading or if you want a really faint sketch. Something important to note about ‘H’ pencils is not to press too hard with them since they’re a lot more likely to leave indents in the paper than ‘B’ pencils! For general sketching I personally use 2B or 3B pencils since they have the perfect balance of soft & hardness in my opinion!) 
Of course, you can just draw with whatever pens or pencils you already have, so definitely don’t feel you have to go out of your way to buy something new or expensive just because your favourite artists use a particular brand of pencil or pen... Of course, often higher quality pens or pencils (especially colouring pencils) will have better pigment payoff than the cheaper alternatives, but as someone who’s been using the same WHSmith pencils they got when they were a child, I definitely think that as long as you have something to draw with, you’re all set to produce masterpieces of your own!
A lot of my art education got us using charcoal for a lot of our drawing practise. It’s not a medium I’m particularly fond of personally, but it is a great way to practise being a lot quicker and expressive with drawing, so definitely if you’re up for the challenge you can try some charcoal stuff! Only piece of advice is that I wouldn’t really recommend those ‘charcoal pencils’ you can buy in some shops, since they mostly just break apart every time you try and sharpen them... Regular charcoal is messy, though, and smudges very easily, so if you are interested in using it I’d say to do a little bit of research before hand! 
(Or feel free to send me an ask if you want any further advice on using it!)
If you’re wanting to get into digital art, I’m planning on making a post discussing my tips for beginners to digital so... keep an eye out for that in the near future lol!
~
Part 2 - Getting over ‘Drawing Anxiety’
Drawing can be a daunting thing, particularly when artists who are already pretty good at it can seemingly produce a perfectly proportioned face out of thin air. But these artists weren’t magically born with this skill, of course, so with practise and some perseverance, I can assure you that you’ll be at that stage one day!
So my first piece of advice here is to be patient with yourself. Don’t expect yourself to be perfect straight away. 
Second piece of advice is to sketch constantly!! I notice a lot of people who haven’t been drawing long are really careful about how they draw, almost like they’re afraid to be rough with the pencil. So I’d really recommend just starting to sketch a lot: be rough, be messy, draw things you can see and things from your imagination! 
Observational drawing is another thing I think is crucial in improving your drawing skills (and I’ll go into more detail with this in a bit), but honestly just sketching things you like is such a great way to help you grow as an artist! And yes this includes drawing anime fanart or drawings of your original characters! 
Below is some comparisons of my attempts at drawing Freema Agyeman from 2013 to 2019... Is the latest version of this perfect? Of course not. But I just want to show what constant practise can achieve!
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~
Part 3 - Observational drawing
I honestly think that observational drawing was one of the most important things I learnt in my years of art education. 
Observational drawing can take on many meanings. Perhaps it’s drawing a still life of a fruit bowl, or a life drawing class with a naked dude in front of you, or even drawing from a photo. The point of observational drawing is to improve how you translate the world around you onto a 2D surface, essentially. 
And you don’t need anything fancy to do observational drawing either! Just placing an array of things in front of you and trying to sketch them (try and focus on a mix of textures and surfaces for the objects. So, for example, including a cup along side a woolly hat will help you get a handle on how to create texture with your drawing, and drawing anything with a reflective surface like cutlery is both challenging and interesting to do! Basically just use what you have around you!)
If you’re lucky (or unlucky, depending on how fond you are of seeing naked people lol) enough to have the chance to do life drawing, I would honestly recommend it! Often the final results aren’t great, but it’s a really good way of practising your observational skills! And even if you don’t have the opportunity, just trying to sketch a friend or family member from across a room, for example, is something that can really help you improve! 
Top tip: a teacher once told me that when you’re drawing something like a face, for example, a way to improve how you draw is to see the face not as a ‘face’, but instead as a collections of shapes. Because our brains have a preconceived idea of what a face looks like that we end up drawing what we think we can see rather than what we can actually see! 
There’s a lot of art snobs who believe that drawing from reference images is ‘cheating’ in comparison to life drawing, Of course, this is bs, and I’d say I’ve learnt just as much from using reference photos for the basis of my art as I have from drawing from ‘real life’. For more information about my thoughts on references and how to use them, see This post!
~
Part 4 - Drawing from references: Tracing, Grids and Freehand (which is best?)
Tracing in the world of art is a ... Contentious subject to say the least. And I’m not really interested in getting into the ‘moral’ implications of whether it is ‘cheating’ or not.
Instead I want to focus on the pros of using something like tracing when you’re starting out. I think particularly if you’re trying to improve how you shade things, colour things or how to get better at blending, then I do think that tracing can be a useful tool! Even I used tracing in the very start of my delve into digital art, but soon found that tracing wasn’t really something that was helping me in the long run so moved onto freehand stuff. 
Overall, I think tracing is good as a starting point when you’re still learning about art, and also if you’re not too comfortable with your freehand drawing skills yet. I’d also recommend you mention if you have traced a piece if you share art to social media. Of course, no one is obligated to do this though! 
This is an example of an artwork that I traced (it’s from 2013, hence why it looks... like That lol)
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But if you’re someone who perhaps has used tracing in the past and found it doesn’t really work for you, or if you don’t want to start with tracing at all, then a good ‘next step’ I’ve seen other artists get into is using grids. 
Now I have to admit, I’m not the best person to talk about grids since I’ve actually never used them lol... But I know a lot of artists who do, particularly people who do a lot of traditional work, since it makes it a lot easier to translate the reference image to your piece of paper or canvas. 
And in a way I would recommend grids more for people starting out in drawing than tracing, and this is mainly due to the fact grids force you to use a lot more observational drawing skills than tracing! If you’re interested in getting into using grids I’d recommend doing a bit of research yourself! 
The final technique of drawing from references I want to talk about is freehand! Now this is the one I’ve been doing for the majority of my art ‘career’ and honestly is probably the most ‘difficult’ to do of the three techniques. 
But I find freehand drawing particularly rewarding with the ways it can make you reimagine an artwork in ways you never intended! Like what I mentioned in my Reference advice post, I have found that making ‘mistakes’ in freehand drawing can actually lead to more interesting and unique works of art than tracing or grid work could ever do! 
I also think that freehand allows you to create your own characters or concepts in a much more free way. For example, my Spirit of Somerset piece was something I created from a variety of references (I seem to remember I used Isak from SKAM’s mouth as a basis for the girls’ mouth?) and the dragon was based on a real mishmash of references, which is something that I I feel I couldn’t have done if I’d have been using grids or tracing!
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With this I’m not trying to say that freehand is the ‘best’ way of drawing, it is just the one that I personally have found to fit me the best, which is the entire point of this post! All of my advice is just pointers I think could be useful for new artists, it is up to you to find which ‘path’ in art suits you best!
And of course, I’ve phrased these techniques as separate purely for the sake of explaining them easier, but the fact of the matter is that you can use a combination of these in your art if you wish! 
If you struggle with drawing the outlines of hands, perhaps use tracing as a way to get a handle of the shape and then maybe use freehand to fill in the colour of them! Use a grid to draw a tree but freehand the leaves and bench below it! 
Remember that your art is your art, and no one can tell you how to draw things! 
~
I think I’ll leave this here for now! But I may do a part two at some point in the future! & my ask box is always open for anyone who wants any specific advice!
I really hope you found this at least moderately helpful, and a massive thank you to everyone for the constant support of these posts and my art!
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buck-buck-boose · 3 years
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I'll Love You 'Til I Die
Masterlist | Playlist
Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.
Pairing: Bucky x OFC
Warnings: Language, mild violence
Word Count: 4.6k
Author's Note: Big things are happening y'all
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Chapter Twenty-One: The Super Soldier
March 19, 1943
Dawn crept up on Camp Lehigh in a thick haze of fog, the chirp of crickets its only whispered greeting. A late-winter frost bloomed across what little grass remained, the majority having been trampled underfoot by platoon after platoon of soldiers. Winter was quickly fading, giving way to a promising spring, but the bitter chill still latched onto those dewy mornings to remind Camp Lehigh’s inhabitants of the cold season they’d just nearly escaped.
Although sessions of training were not due to begin for hours, warm bodies were stirred from slumber in their barracks, meeting the cold, stale air of their poorly-insulated lodgings. The nurse’s barracks was lit by a lamp's dim glow, which splayed a flush of golden light across the room. Five women quietly and nimbly dressed, none of them wishing to break the silence that balanced among them; the early morning was sacred to them, as it seemed to be the only time apart from nighttime in which one could be alone with one’s thoughts.
Lottie deftly pinned her mousy curls beneath her white cap, caring little for their arrangement or appearance. Once upon a time, she’d tamed her curls with gentle finger waves and carefully pinned back strands, desperate to look the part of a fair woman like Ginger Rogers. It was a quieter, more joyful time in which she had the time and desire to put ample effort into her appearance. How simpler life in Brooklyn seemed, in retrospect. She only had to care for Steve or Bucky’s wounds, usually from some street brawl instigated by Steve and ended by Bucky; now she had soldiers to care for. Soldiers who would one day be covered in great, gaping wounds, some so deeply ingrained within their souls that neither the highest of morphine dosages nor the strongest suture could soothe them.
Lottie made swift work of fastening her blue cape around her neck, situating it so that the inner red lining wasn’t peeking out. In her peripherals, Mary smoothed a hand down her white skirt in a weak attempt at combatting its wrinkles while Betty gave her face a once-over in a battered compact that she always seemed to have on her person. Lottie was downright envious of her ever-red lip and sultry gaze, they seemed to turn the heads of all the young privates on base, which earned them more than a few reprimands. It was only a few weeks ago that Betty had explained her reasoning for putting such effort into her physical charm, even in the middle of the war.
“Nurses are supposed to provide comfort, care, right?” She sat across from Lottie at their table in the mess hall, smoke curling from a freshly lit cigarette resting between her fingers. She puffed on the cigarette for a moment and slowly exhaled the smoke, “Well these boys have been stuck in a war for over a year now and they probably haven’t seen a pretty face in a while. They’re probably missing their sweethearts, fiancées, you name it. Either way, they’ve gotta be awful lonely out there, so what’s the harm in being that girl with the pretty face that can make them a little less lonesome?”
Before anyone could raise a question, she continued, “I’m not talking affairs or anything illicit, sometimes they just need a pretty face and a nice voice to remind ‘em of home, to ease that loneliness.”
Betty’s little sermon drew Lottie’s thoughts to Bucky. He was a fiercely loyal man who would stop at nothing to protect or care for his closest companions. For his own sake, Lottie hoped that he’d found a sort of comradery with his fellow soldiers, a bond to strengthen him while they were separated by an ocean. He’d always had a habit of flashing her his trademark grin and ruffling her hair, all while declaring something silly like “You ‘n Steve are all I need, Little Lottie. It’s always gonna be the three of us, ‘til the end of the line.” Lottie could only hope that Bucky had found a bond like theirs with his fellow soldiers as a source of comfort and a respite from loneliness.
“Lottie dear, Dr. Erskine’s waiting for us.”
It seemed that the other nurses had filtered out of the barracks as Lottie was lost in thought. Only Gladys remained, waiting for her expectantly at the doorway. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, with her white cap nestled daintily atop her head, held in place with a handful of pins.
“Apologies, Gladys, I’m coming.” Gladys gave her a small smile as she caught up, nerves keeping her from forming her true toothy grin. All the nurses were nervous, to be truthful, as it was a significant day. Their serum was finally being put to use; they had found their first Super Soldier in Steve Rogers.
When Lottie had received the news of his selection to receive the serum, she’d nearly fainted with shock. Steve was a man with a heart of gold, she’d always known that, but it only served to heighten her self-doubt with regards to the serum’s efficacy. If the serum went awry as it did with Schmidt, Lottie wasn’t sure how she would be able to live with herself.
Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips’ debriefing as to why Steve had been chosen to become America’s first Super Soldier was a source of comfort, though. The two men had cornered the five nurses outside their barracks right as they were heading inside to turn in for the night.
The scientist had been the first to speak, “Ladies, we wanted to catch you as soon as possible. Colonel Phillips and I have decided upon our candidate for the serum. Private Steve Rogers will report to our facility in Brooklyn promptly at ten hundred hours tomorrow. We will need to depart camp at six hundred hours so we have abundant time to become accustomed to the equipment that will be in use. Mr. Stark will be joining us there.”
Lottie was sure there’d been spots in her vision, the announcement had nearly knocked all the wind out of her.
“I expect you ladies to uphold the same sense of secrecy and vigilance that you’ve had up until this point,” Colonel Phillips interjected, “This is only the beginning of our mission. We must continue to protect Project Rebirth, no matter how hopeless it may seem.” His voice was laced with bitterness, obviously doubtful of Steve’s abilities.
Nancy furrowed her brow, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Private Rogers the ninety-pound asthmatic? Why him and not someone more… reliable, like Private Hodge?”
Lottie bristled slightly, as she did not take kindly to critical remarks regarding her friends.
“Need I remind you that the serum is not focused only on the physical?” Dr. Erskine fixed Nancy with a level gaze, “He is not the most well-built soldier, I admit that. But as you have seen yourself, the serum is capable of incredible cellular change that will only strengthen him. It will also amplify the qualities that he already has inside of himself. He has proven himself to be a good soldier and a worthy recipient of the serum.” Lottie glanced at Colonel Phillips, whose face was twisted into an awkward grimace, though he did not comment.
“During training today, he exhibited qualities of strength and humility that I have yet to see in any other soldiers thus far. Would Private Hodge throw himself over a grenade to protect his fellow soldiers? He showed me today that he would not, but Private Rogers would.”
Colonel Phillips muttered something along the lines of, “Still skinny,” though the bitterness seemed to fade. All of the nurses came to accept the news, trading in their expressions of shock and concern for ones of uncertainty and anxiety. It seemed that reality had hit for all five of the nurses at once; their work had finally come to fruition, making the road ahead even more daunting than before.
There was little conversation in the nurse’s compartment on the train to Brooklyn. There were moments of brief chatter among the women, but they were all too lost in their thoughts to carry on a proper conversation. Lottie shifted in her seat every few minutes, the poorly-cushioned seat providing little comfort during the duration of the train ride. Beside her, Gladys flicked through a stack of paper, which she’d pulled out of a manila folder that had been stamped with the word “Confidential” in large red letters. Ever the levelheaded academic of the group, she’d decided to look over their notes on the serum and its activation procedure one last time.
Across from her, Mary and Nancy were busying themselves with embroidery, an activity that a few of the nurses had picked up to improve their abilities with stitching. Lottie pictured a frayed handkerchief in her mind’s eye, a tattered old thing covered in clumsy pink flowers with a “JBB” monogram stitched carefully onto its corner. She wondered if Bucky had taken it with him overseas. He’d always kept it on his person back in Brooklyn, “Never know when a dame’s gonna go all misty eyed on me,” he’d say, humor in his eyes. There wouldn’t be many women for him to comfort overseas, but maybe he’d need it for his tears someday.
Betty sat to the right of Gladys, scanning the pages of a battered copy of Gone With the Wind. She’d never struck Lottie as a bookworm, but more often than not, she was the last of the women to fall asleep at night, usually engrossed in a novel for an hour or two past lights-out.
Two hours passed uneventfully; its monotony was only interrupted by the transferring from one train to another. Lottie’s heart seemed to pound in her ears as they approached Brooklyn, the tall buildings in her window becoming more and more familiar to her. Her heart swelled at the sight of it; she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the city until she returned after all that time. Of course, she’d been gone from the city for longer while she was in nursing school, but it tugged at her heartstrings even more than before because a damn war was what kept her from her beloved borough.
It wasn’t long before the train had arrived, initiating a flurry of movement out of the train car and toward a car that sat at the curb, waiting for them. All five nurses clambered inside, with Dr. Erskine following behind in his car. The car ride was a short one, though Lottie took the time to observe her surroundings; she wanted so desperately to drink in the familiar alleys and side streets before she had to return to Camp Lehigh, to war.
Their car stopped abruptly in front of a cozy antique shop; one she’d never paid much attention to. Dr. Erskine’s car had arrived just a few moments before theirs, so they followed him inside. Once inside, they were faced with an aged woman, who greeted them with a casual question, though her eyes betrayed a deeper glimmer of suspicion, “Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?”
Dr. Erskine responded promptly, “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”
They were quickly led through a false bookcase, which hid a vast laboratory full of all that was needed to complete the transformation that would occur in a few hours. There were dozens of monitors and gauges, all for measuring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Rays that were intended to activate the serum within his cells. In the center of it all, there was a bed on which Steve would lie, and when injected with the serum, the bed would be surrounded by a chamber while the Vita-Rays were projected into him.
Lottie and her peers stood at the top of the stairs, taking it all in, while Dr. Erskine descended the steps toward a control panel. He glanced back at them briefly, “Shall we all get accustomed to this now, ladies?”
Over the past few hours, Lottie had tired herself by calibrating various instruments, readying the equipment, and arranging several vials of serum within the transformation chamber. Throughout that time, doctors, higher-ranking soldiers, and members of the SSR slowly filtered into the room, some even gathering in the observation booth that looked down on them from above. She knew that Steve was due to arrive with Agent Carter at any moment. Frankly, she was terrified— mortified, even.
Howard Stark flitted about the laboratory, checking up on the various devices that would be used throughout the process. The Vita-Ray chamber was his brainchild, so a majority of his morning was spent double and triple-checking its minute parts and its stability.
At precisely 10 o’clock in the morning, Agent Carter and Steve stepped into the laboratory, two metal doors held open by guards for their entrance. Silence quickly descended upon the scientists and personnel who had been moving about the room in a sort of organized chaos. Lottie knew that most of them were looking at Steve in confusion, and in some cases dismay, but she made sure to send her best friend a reassuring smile. Even if the bullheaded scientists in the room were doubtful of his abilities, Lottie was with him. She believed in him. Her only doubts were in her abilities.
The staff quickly returned to their business as Agent Carter and Steve descended the steps and approached the center of the laboratory to meet with Dr. Erskine. They shared a brief greeting before Steve was ordered to remove his hat, tie, and shirt; Mary waited beside him with a kind smile, accepting his shed clothing. Agent Carter stood a few feet behind Steve, respectfully averting her gaze as he partially disrobed. Lottie took a special interest in their interactions, examining the way in which she treated Steve. She didn’t ignore or belittle him as some women did, she treated him with more dignity and respect. For that, Lottie was grateful.
Lottie busied herself with sterilizing several glass syringes as she impatiently awaited the initiation of the transformation. She could just barely make out a conversation that Dr. Erskine and Steve had shared about schnapps, but before she could quite figure out what was said, the scientist turned to the inventor beside him, “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”
“Levels at one hundred percent. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we’ll ever be.” Mr. Stark stood in front of the chamber where Steve now lay, projecting an air of confidence despite an uncomfortable look in his eye.
Agent Carter was dismissed to the booth to join Colonel Phillips, who was seated with several other seemingly important men that Lottie didn’t care to know. Dr. Erskine addressed the crowd in the booth using a microphone, explaining the purpose of Project Rebirth. Meanwhile, Lottie and her fellow nurses prepared the Vita-Ray chamber; she’d just situated the paddles on his chest when his gaze met hers. They’d been in a similar position so many times before. There were countless times over the past decade when she and Bucky had shown up at his apartment, soup and medicine in hand, to make him feel better during his latest bout of sickness. Bucky would always sit on one side of the bed, leaning on the mattress as he tried to distract Steve with idle conversation. She always kept vigil on the opposite side of the bed from Bucky, pulling Steve’s sheets up to his chin no matter how much he complained of the heat. She would never have to do that again, Lottie realized, as the serum would (hopefully) strengthen his immune system to the point that it would nearly be impossible to get sick. He wouldn’t need her or Bucky to look after him anymore. It pained her only slightly; she was overjoyed that he would be strengthened and healed by the serum, but it felt like the end of an era for her. She wasn’t truly needed anymore.
When the scientist’s speech to the booth had concluded, Lottie disinfected Steve’s shoulder and injected a syringe of penicillin into it; beforehand, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, warning him for the pain of the jab. She felt him sigh in relief, “That wasn’t so bad.”
Lottie bit back a giggle while Dr. Erskine looked down at Steve with a furrowed brow, “That was penicillin.” The scientist gave her a look and without missing a beat, began the countdown.
Five
The doctors and scientists that were scattered around the laboratory rushed to their control panels, monitoring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Ray levels that would soon be harnessed for the serum’s activation.
Four
Those that were observing from the booth looked at the scene below with bated breath; they either anticipated either a predictable failure or an unlikely success.
Three
The five nurses gathered around the Vita-Ray chamber, monitoring the serum infusion. Two mechanical arms latched onto Steve’s biceps and embedded several syringes deep into his muscle.
Two
Dr. Erskine placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Lottie met Steve’s gaze once more, she was that little girl at his bedside, sitting her vigil for one last time.
One
A switch was flipped and several syringes of the serum were injected into Steve’s system. Lottie could already see the strain it was putting on his body, his face contorted and he grunted in pain as he felt the serum begin its work in his body.
When given his signal, Mr. Stark flipped a lever to encase Steve in the Vita-Ray chamber, which maneuvered Steve into a vertical position before he was completely locked into the machine. Dr. Erskine knocked on the metal, “Steven? Can you hear me?”
A muffled response came from within the metal, “It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Lottie snorted, only Steve would make a terrible joke at a time like that.
The scientist faced Mr. Stark, “We will proceed.” Below him, Mr. Stark slowly turned a dial and donned a pair of goggles. Lottie and her peers followed suit, as the luminosity of the Vita-Rays would cause vision damage if their eyes were left uncovered.
Lottie worried her lip as Mr. Stark slowly increased the radiation levels by turning a wheel that was mounted on the control panel. Next to him, a doctor carefully monitored Steve’s vitals; he reported that they were all normal, which calmed Lottie a tad.
At around the seventy percent mark, cries began to ring out from within the Vita-Ray chamber. It was as if screams were being torn from Steve’s throat, they were so hoarse and raw. Dr. Erskine rushed to the chamber while Peggy quickly descended from the booth, urging the personnel to cease the radiation. Lottie stood in shock, stuck in an internal impasse. She worried deeply for Steve’s safety, she always had and always would. Simultaneously, she needed to trust in the years’ worth of work she’d put into Project Rebirth. She and her fellow nurses had worked day after day, slaving over the Super Soldier Serum and Vita-Ray theories to develop the perfect transformation method. If she couldn’t trust her abilities and research, what could she trust?
But when Steve’s cries seemed to echo throughout the laboratory, she knew that his safety superseded whatever pride she had in her research. Lottie had just opened her mouth to call for an end to it when Steve insisted from within the Vita-Ray chamber, “Don’t! I can do this!”
A burst of warmth bloomed in Lottie’s chest; Steve trusted their work and he was fighting to see it through. Mr. Stark continued to raise the radiation levels until they had reached one hundred percent. The staff and observers from the booth could only look on in shock and wonder as the light from within the chamber continued to glow brighter and it began to give off a steady humming noise.
Without warning, sparks began to spray out from the control panels as a result of the copious amounts of electricity being funneled into the transformation. Lottie cried out, ducking down with Mary to avoid the sparks that showered down on them from overhead. Across from them, Nancy, Gladys, and Betty assumed similar positions, clutching their white caps as they attempted to shield themselves from the onslaught.
As quickly as it started, the sparks ceased, as did the humming of the Vita-Ray chamber. The laboratory was far dimmer than it was earlier, with the light from the radiation gone, and nearly half the bulbs in the laboratory having been blown out.
All eyes were on the Vita-Ray chamber as they all awaited the final result of Project Rebirth. The chamber hissed open and released a gust of air, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve.
Lottie could barely believe it, not only was he exhausted-looking, but it seemed as if he’d gained nearly 8 inches of height and a few dozen pounds of muscle. Gone was that scrawny blond boy who’d gotten lost in crowds far too easily, here was a man— a Super Soldier —who was perfectly enhanced on a cellular level.
The SSR agents and politicians who were previously gathered in the booth rushed to meet with Steve, barely able to contain their excitement. They clambered over each other, all of them desperate to be the first one to speak with America’s first Super Soldier.
In all the chaos, Betty had sidled up to her, her jaw nearly touching the floor, “Hot damn, Lottie Green. Hot damn.” She ogled at Steve as she took in his new physique. Lottie rolled her eyes, “Just because he’s got more muscle doesn’t mean he’ll be able to talk to you any better. Or that he won’t step on your toes if you get him to dance.”
Steve stood in the middle of a crowd of men, though Agent Carter stood in front of him, attempting to look at anything but his chest.
“I think you might want this, Stevie,” Lottie moved in to stand beside Agent Carter and offered him a shirt, which he accepted gratefully. He smiled down at her gratefully, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, Lottie.”
How odd it was to be looking up at him. It was certainly something that Lottie wasn’t used to, she’d gotten quite used to looking down at him, in fact. By age sixteen, she’d gained about two inches on him, and though he was loath to admit it, she knew it pained him to be the shortest of the three of them. Luckily for him, his new height delegated her as the most diminutive of the Brooklyn trio by far.
Amid the jubilation following Project Rebirth’s success, grave mistakes were made. Gladys had left her manila folder of notes— all the notes that the nurses had ever taken during their research —on one of the control panels closest to the stairway, just close enough to the exit to be snatched up by a discreet hand. An extra vial of Super Soldier serum sat in its case, at the ready for its eventual use; it stood unguarded and unwatched.
The once-unassuming Fred Clemson hung back from the crowd, a lighter in hand. Dr. Erskine was the first to notice his position apart from everyone else; the scientist opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could form a sentence, Clemson had flicked open the lighter and triggered an explosion from the observation booth.
Screams rang out from the middle of the laboratory as glass rained down on them. Sparks even worse than before began assaulting them and left stinging burns in their wake. Lottie grunted as she felt minuscule shards of glass tear at and become embedded in her skin; it would surely be a pain to treat such small cuts and remove the pieces of glass later on. It was shocking, really, how quickly the mood of the room had shifted. Just moments before, she’d been looking at Steve in awe, fully processing all that the serum had accomplished. Her sentiments of excitement and pride quickly evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of panic and dread.
The force of the explosion had thrown Lottie and some of the other nurses to the ground, so she scrambled to her feet in an attempt to take action against the man. It was all in vain, for as soon as she regained her footing, all she saw was the bespectacled man diving through the crowd to grab the last vial of Super Soldier serum and the thick manila envelope that Gladys had brought with her. Lottie’s stomach dropped in terror; she opened her mouth to cry out for backup, but Dr. Erskine was one step ahead of her. He commanded the man to stop, but the only response he received was several gunshots in the chest.
Deep red stains formed across the front of his shirt and seeped into his lab coat, his vibrant blood was a sickening contrast to the crisp white color of his lab coat. The scientist fell to the ground, his legs sprawled out before him and his arms at his side. Lottie knew that there was no hope for him— there were no exit wounds and she was more than certain that at least one of his lungs had been punctured. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Lottie didn’t need to perform an examination to know that the wounds would be fatal. There was no time for an examination anyway, gunshots continued to ring out across the laboratory, and Agent Carter was in hot pursuit of the offender.
Mary looked at Lottie for some sort of reassurance of direction, her mouth agape, “Lottie, he's— he’s gonna die if we don’t do somethin’. C’mon, we’ve gotta help him.” Her voice came out in a whimper and her hands shook as she searched the floor for any fallen bandages. She took Mary’s trembling hands into her clammy ones, “Mary, look at his breathing. You know there’s nothing we can do for him now.”
She knew it was a heartbreaking thing to say, but Mary was a brilliant nurse; she already knew all the signs of a punctured lung. Lottie knew that she was having a hard time processing the information due to the shock that was no doubt obscuring her senses and rational thought. What Mary needed was a calm voice to guide her back from the brink of hysteria, a friend to bring her back to reality.
The nurses learned a jarring lesson about reality’s harsh nature that day; they learned of its cycle of gains and losses, successes and failures. The five nurses of Project Rebirth had achieved all that they’d been dreaming of for more than a year, they’d proven themselves to be reliable and even stellar researchers in their field. It had all been ripped away from them in a matter of moments, with the loss of their notes and serum, as well as the brutal death of Dr. Erskine. All they could do was clutch each other helplessly as they watched Steve follow the man in hot pursuit— the man who had stolen everything from them. Lottie, Mary, Betty, Nancy, and Gladys had certainly entered a new era in their careers as nurses, an era of uncertainty. With nothing left from Project Rebirth besides the Super Soldier himself, their futures were left in limbo until the Strategic Scientific Reserve could figure out what to do with them next.
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katzkinder · 4 years
Text
Pomegranate Seeds, Give My Life To Thee
“This is so troublesome I could just die.”
“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”
Mahiru hates the way his Servamp talks.
There were a number of things Mahiru disliked about Kuro.
Getting oil on the controllers, leaving crumbs and empty chip bags behind, forgetting to take stuff out of his pockets before chucking his dirty laundry into the bin, not managing to make the dirty laundry get to the bin at all, and most annoying was certainly Kuro’s habit of snacking just before meal times.
But these were all small things. Minor things. Things that Kuro had, he had to admit, improved upon since they had begun living together. The sort of things you’d expect from someone who had essentially lived for who knows how long as a bachelor (he thinks? He’s still honestly not sure on just what kind of relationship Kuro and Gear had had in the past. Thinking too hard on it made his heart twist) and then however many decades as a homeless bum. And he was proud of him! Of course he was.
These were things he could overlook. Easily help Kuro improve on. Nag him into submission about, though the housewife and “yes mommy” jokes were getting stale. But there were some things, some habits, some phrases… He just couldn’t stand. And it ate at him.
“This is so troublesome I could just die.”  
“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”  
“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”  
“Who cares? I’m immortal.”
“I do.”
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and Kuro blinked up at him, lackadaisical in even his surprise at how… Firmly it had come out. The bag of chips, once full of empty calories and now empty itself thanks to the Servamp’s habitual snacking, crinkled noisily in the still air. The burgeoning argument over Kuro’s dietary habits had come to a halt before it even really started, yet somehow Mahiru felt as if it would have been better, simpler to just let it play out like usual.
Mahiru couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when all these bubbling, festering, unpleasant feelings were reaching a boiling point over such a tiny phrase.
He swallowed, Kuro’s eyes flicking down momentarily to track the motion in his throat, then back to his eyes, and Mahiru felt another pang, along with another stroke of anger that quickly cooled to simmering annoyance.
“You’re starving yourself again, aren’t you?”
Kuro broke their impromptu staring contest at the accusation, gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere else in the tiny apartment living room as he literally turned his back on his Eve, returning to the safe, artificial light and colorful world of his handheld.
“I was literally just eating chips,” he mumbled, all the petulance of a child who knows they are guilty in his drawled words. He scooched the empty bag closer to himself, posture practically screaming that he wanted Mahiru to let it alone, let the sleeping lion lie.
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
“... Why does it matter? It’s not like there’s any danger here. I’m fine. I’m-”
“Yes! I get it! You’re immortal! But... that’s not the problem!”
He was also not very fond of the way Kuro never wanted to address anything until things were nearly as a breaking point.
The heat in his chest was back, along with a bit of bitter satisfaction at the way his outburst had made Kuro turn to really look at him. But then his partner was standing, and the look on his face was so full of concern, gingerly taking the laundry basket from Mahiru’s hands and setting it aside so that they could stand face to face and Mahiru resisted the urge to bow his head in shame. The vampire caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it in a way that worried Mahiru.
A gentle thumb just below it made Kuro freeze, sanguine eyes widening ever so slightly when Mahiru carefully pulled it free, voice uncharacteristically gentle for his scolding.
“Stop that. You’ll make yourself bleed.”
“... Sorry. Didn’t even realize I was doing it…”
“That seems to be a running theme with you.” Mahiru winced ever so slightly at the harsher than he’d meant wording, but Kuro didn’t seem to mind. Or, at the least, was too concerned with other matters to mind at the moment.
“Mahi…” Kuro’s voice had taken on that softer, more raspy quality that Mahiru recognized as sincerity, and coupled with the nickname, he couldn’t help but soften just a bit more himself. “I…” Another pause, Kuro moving to take his lip between his teeth again but managing to stop himself. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and Mahiru reached for it, carefully interlocking their hands. “What is the problem, then? This… Isn’t just about the blood, is it?”
Biting down a snarky comment, Mahiru replied, “No, it’s not,” gripping the larger hand in his own more securely, knowing far too well that Kuro was liable to bolt. He’d been getting better about that, too, but his issues with taking blood were particularly touchy for him, he’d found. He hoped that, one day, the other would be able to be candid about it with him. To tell him the why and the how. Until then, though... It was better safe than sorry. “But if you keep it up I’ll start hiding it in your food like a cat who won’t take his pills.”     Kuro snorted, relief making his shoulders sag and stiff posture unwind. If Mahiru was joking, it wasn’t that serious. He hoped. “So? What gives. Talk to me. It’s not like you to just… Suddenly explode like that.”
It was Mahiru’s turn to look guilty, staring at their joined hands and Kuro’s pale, almost translucent skin. There was the faintest scar on the webbing of his thumb, and his nails were getting long again. He’d have to trim them for him soon. The vampire, he’d found, was prone to either chewing them down to the quick or clipping them too short. It was simpler to do it for him, and had become part of the routine of their lives. He didn’t mind it. Enjoyed it, even, if only for the excuse it gave him to hold Kuro’s hand, admire his long, elegant fingers and the difference between them and his own sun kissed ones smattered with freckles.
“Would you believe me if I said I don’t even know where to start?”
A finger at his chin, lifting his gaze back to Kuro’s, red, red eyes focused on him and so, so worried.
Why can’t you worry about yourself like that?  
“Keep it simple, then.”
Having his own life motto parroted back to him, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course. Simple was best. And simply thinking… He just needed to say what he felt.
“Earlier, what you said…" he began, words slowly picking up steam as he found his voice again, found his thoughts again, "About how you don’t really care, because you’re immortal? It kinda... Pissed me off.”
A stunned look, Kuro once again blinking owlishly at him, no doubt thrown for a loop by the rare swear dropping from the Eve's lips. “O… kay? I won’t… Say it anymore?”
Still missing the point, huh?  
How did he ever end up with such a dumbass vampire?
Mahiru extricated his hand, instead cupping Kuro’s face, ensuring that the vampire of Sloth had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “Just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself. In fact, when you don’t, it… It hurts! It hurts a lot. Because you’re important to me. Because I care about you. And I hate seeing you suffer.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh." The words were coming faster now, louder, more desperate, as if this were somehow his only chance to get them all out and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. Didn't want to, because holding it in was so much more painful. "And not just that, either! When you say things like you want to kill yourself, or that you want to die, or that it’s fine that you got hurt… I hate those too! I really, really, hate it...”
His voice cracked on the last word, embarrassingly so, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all, not when Kuro had a dawning look of realization, not when halting hands were reaching for him as the Servamp’s face twisted with contrite, not when he really, really wanted the hug that was being sort of half offered to him. He stepped forward, let Kuro embrace him, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs and all that awfulness he had been hoarding with it. He really... Wasn't okay at all, was he?
 “It scares me… And I’m sorry I got mad at you-”
 “I’m sorry, too. For not… Noticing that it bothered you so much.”
 “... I mean. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m… Kind of really good at hiding when something is bugging me. To be honest…” He snuggled closer into Kuro’s chest, shut his eyes and breathed deep, that mixture of misty mornings and his body wash because of course Kuro was too lazy to pick out his own, all layered over the subtle metallic tang that seemed to cling to every vampire he met. It was soothing. It felt like home, and safety, the same but different as his uncle. Like everything would be okay, if only he just stayed right where he was. “I don’t think I even realized how badly it bothered me myself until just now…”
Kuro hummed, Mahiru feeling the vibrations under his ear and against his cheek. “That seems to be a running theme with you.”
“Ass.” A light thwack to his shoulder, Kuro releasing a little puff of amusement.
“My bad. Couldn’t resist. We’re both… Pretty similar, huh…?”
“I guess so. Who would have thought?”
A pat or two to his back and Kuro drew away, Mahiru reluctantly letting him go. “I’ll clean up my mess, and, um, once I’m done…” The human blinked, head tilting curiously when Kuro cleared his throat, scratched at his cheek. It could sorely use some color. “Maybe we can figure out an, uh… Feeding schedule? Or something?” He gave a helpless sort of half shrug, quickly dropping it when all he got in return was a blank stare. “Sorry, forget it, dumb idea, just thought it would, like, help or something. I dunno-”
 “No!” Kuro jumped at his shout, his anxious rambling cutting off and replaced instead with anxious finger fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his hands while Mahiru rapidly moved to reassure him. “No, feeding schedule is great! In fact, let me get a marker for the calendar and my phone while you do that.”
It was a small thing. A minor thing. Something that shouldn’t even be a problem to begin with. But it was a step towards getting Kuro to take proper care of himself. To value himself. Even if he was only suggesting it to comfort his Eve…
Mahiru tried and failed to hold down the amused little smile sprouting when he sighted the red at the tips of Kuro’s ears, quickly padding out the living room and leaving Kuro to his task, and the dirty laundry in its basket in the middle of the otherwise clear space.
No matter what the reason, it was a step in the right direction. For the both of them.
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currantlee · 3 years
Link
Language: English Rating: General Audiences (G) / P6 Warnings: - Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Genre: Slice of Life Characters: Roxas, Kairi Relationships: Roxas & Kairi Words: 5,118 Chapter: 1/1 Beta: No beta, I’ll die like Ven (didn’t in KHUX) Notes: I apologize if there are any vocab / grammar errors as English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it regardless 😊
Roxas blocked the strike just in time. He had thought Kairi was aiming for his hands in order to knock the struggle bat out of his hand, but as it turned out, she had aimed for his legs instead.
He staggered backwards. Her strikes weren’t exactly powerful – she wasn’t the strongest fighter in general, neither on offense nor on defense. A single well-placed hit could render her incapable of going on in a serious fight. But Kairi was quick enough to avoid most if not all of these, and her impossibly high stamina was giving Roxas a hard time actually securing any kind of hit in their current sparring session. He knew he was running out of strength, and the hot, humid air of Destiny Islands wasn’t doing him any favor either. If he didn’t manage to land a hit soon…
Another strike followed swiftly, but this time, he didn’t manage to block it – she hit his arm full-force. Which, considering that it was Kairi, wasn’t much. But even with just a Struggle bat as a weapon, it was enough for Roxas to drop one of his bats.
She didn’t give him any chance to recover, let alone counter. At least Roxas was able to block the next strike this time, even though he already missed the bat he’d dropped. He really was better off dual-wielding.
Kairi aimed for his legs once more – no, wait, she was aiming for his flank! He managed to jump out of the way just on time, but still…
Roxas gritted his teeth. He needed to get back on the offense.
Another strike almost hit his other arm. She knew she had her chance, and she wasn’t going to miss out on it. knew that it was only a matter of time until she secured her victory in this match. He hadn’t been quick enough landing his hits on her – if she didn’t get cocky and gave him another opening, this was a loss.
Maybe he could…
Roxas smirked and took a small step forward, despite the fact that she was obviously going for another attack.
Kairi stopped her attack and withdrew immediately. She changed into a more defensive stance, obviously thinking that she had given him an opening, and prepared to block his incoming strike – one that would not come yet. Kairi lowered her bat in confusion.
There was his chance.
She let out a yelp of surprise as she staggered backwards. She obviously hadn’t taken the possibility of a bluff into account. Then again, Roxas didn’t use the tactic very often.
But Kairi wasn’t finished yet.
Just as Roxas wanted to take this opportunity and go for another strike, she dropped her bat and charged towards him, tackling him with her entire weight. He yelped as he dropped his other bat, both in surprise and an attempt to catch her, lost his balance and fell onto his back. Good thing the sand of the beach was so soft.
Kairi, who was slumped right across his upper body, rested her head on her hands and grinned at him over her shoulder. “Do I win?”
He might have lost both of his bats and Kairi had more stamina than him, but that didn’t mean Roxas wasn’t able to fight anymore. She let out a squeak when he suddenly flipped their positions. Now she had her back on the ground, and he was on top.
Roxas grinned. “Not so fast.”
“Aw, come on,” Kairi protested with a fake pout. “I had you!”
“Had,” he countered. “Because now I have you.”
She smirked. “You sure about that?”
Roxas could tell she was up to something. She always had that mischievous smirk on her face whenever she was about to make a rather dark-natured joke or planning something. She probably had another surprise move in stock… Should he put a little more of his weight onto her? He didn’t want to hu-…
Something started tickling on his flank.
“Hey, that’s unfair!”, he yelped. He couldn’t help but start giggling immediately afterwards though. He pressed his eyes shut out of a reflex. He had to laugh so hard that he could barely breathe, and it was hard to control the rest of his body.
“I thought the bad guys don’t care about honor and rules,” Kairi said, and Roxas could almost hear the smirk in her voice. “So why should I?”
“Stop!”, Roxas laughed instead.
“Only if you admit that I win.”
“Never!”
“Hm. That’s truly unfortunate.” Kairi managed to sit up somehow, even though she push him off her entirely. She smiled mischievously. “I guess I have to keep tickling you until you finally admit to your loss…”
In moments like these, Roxas wondered whether she truly was a Princess of Heart. Weren’t they supposed to be pure light and good? Well, Kairi surely had a devilish streak. “Fine! Let’s call it a draw,” he giggled. He knew that despite her claims, she wouldn’t keep this up forever, but he didn’t know whether he could hold out until then.
“… Okay.”
And finally, the tickling stopped. Roxas took a deep, relieved breath.
“A draw it is then,” Kairi smiled.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Suddenly, he could hear the chirping of the insects, the birds singing, the roaring of the sea and the waves crashing at the shore – all those things that had been there all the time, but he seemed to have forgotten or simply not perceived them.
Then, he realized he was laying right on Kairi’s lap.
If he could have, Roxas would have blushed now. He could almost feel his vascular liquid flowing into his cheeks, and the characteristic cackling of a slightly embarrassed Nobody escaped his throat.
“You know,” Kairi smiled, “it’s a real shame you can’t blush. I bet it would look cute on you.”
“I could put some rouge on if you want to see what it would look like on me,” Roxas offered. It wouldn’t be the first time he did this, although he had to admit that the thought of wearing it because Kairi wanted to see how a blush would look like on him was much more pleasant than wearing it in order to hide that he was a Nobody. Not all worlds were as accepting of them as Destiny Islands and Radiant Garden were.
“Aw, that’s sweet! You don’t have to though,” Kairi quickly dismissed the offer. Maybe she thought that he minded wearing makeup – which Roxas did, but it was more because he minded having to hide who he was than the makeup itself. Therefore he was glad that he didn’t have to do that in most worlds.
“You’d like it though,” Roxas pointed out.
The always-present peach flush on Kairi’s cheeks intensified – she was blushing. Heh. He had caught her. Roxas smirked. “Well, look who’s blushing now.” It made her look very cute.
Kairi giggled softly. “Okay, you win this round.”
It was like someone had wiped all of the mischief off of her. If Roxas hadn’t known her as well as he did, he wouldn’t have believed that the girl who had tickled him until he admitted that he hadn’t won their sparring match earlier and this girl who giggled while admitting that he got her were the same person. But they were one and the same person. It was incredible how Kairi could be impossibly cute in one second and incredibly mischievous in the other, and one of the many things he liked about her.
Kairi was just overall a very likable person, Roxas thought. She was a great friend who always looked out for others, even though she could be mischievous at times. She was always so patient and never got annoyed with his or Naminé’s incompetence when it came to everyday stuff, instead trying to understand their situation as best as she could. She was dedicated to whatever she set her mind on, something that Roxas found admirable, especially when it came to fighting. It clearly wasn’t her strongest suit, but despite that, she kept trying her best at over and over again.
“I gotta say though, you are improving,” Roxas smiled while sitting up. “When it comes to sparring I mean.” He didn’t think anyone could match her when it came to wits – or at least Roxas hadn’t met anyone yet.
“You think so?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I really had a hard time against you today.”
She blushed again, and even turned away. “I got lucky,” she tried to brush it off.
Roxas shook his head. If she had just gotten lucky this once, he wouldn’t have struggled as much against her. “There’s always a little bit of luck involved in a fight,” he argued. “But I don’t think it’s just that, Kairi.” There was no reason for her to be humble about her growing skill, so he wouldn’t accept it.
“Are you sure about that?”
Roxas smiled and nodded. “You still aren’t the best fighter, that’s true.” He wanted to be honest with her. “But you don’t have to be. You have other qualities that are far more important than that.”
Kairi smiled. “Thank you for saying that, Roxas.” She was still averting her gaze. “You’re so sweet.”
Another cackle escaped him at that. He didn’t want to address it any further though, so he just shrugged while he stood up and patted the sand off his swimming trunks. They were at the beach, so he had figured it would be a good opportunity to finally wear them, even if he didn’t go into the water. “I’m just telling you how I see it, that’s all.” He held out his hand to her in order to help her up. “Wanna go for another round?”
“Maybe later,” Kairi answered as she gently took his hand and stood up as well. Roxas noticed that she was trying to do most of the work by herself. “I could really use some cooling off right now, and you look like you could too.”
She was right. He was still sweaty, and while the climate on Destiny Islands wasn’t searingly hot, it was fairly humid. Roxas didn’t hate it, in fact he even liked being on Destiny Islands, but he preferred Radiant Garden when it came to the climate, especially when it came to physically demanding activities like sparring.
“Would you mind if we go into the water for a bit?”, she asked.
Roxas gulped. Yes. Yes, he did. To be fair, he should have known that training on the beach would lead to that sooner or later, but…
The warm feeling of Kairi’s hand on his shoulder interrupted any more incoming thoughts. She looked at him with a concerned and slightly serious expression. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” she said. “I know even the thought of setting a foot into the water scares you. But the sea is quite calm today. It’s completely save.”
It didn’t look that way to him. The sea looked dark and deep – how deep, he had no idea. Maybe Kairi knew. Besides, the water was moving. Sure, the waves weren’t as strong as they were on most other days he had seen, but they were still there. Could the force of a single one be enough to knock him over?
Roxas sighed. He knew that he couldn’t avoid any water that wasn’t rain, from a shower, in the sink or for drinking forever. Besides, Kairi was here. She had saved him once already. If he was save near water with anyone, it was her. He had to start somewhere.
So he nodded. “I’ll try.” His voice came out a lot more quiet and squeaky than usually.
A wide smile spread across Kairi’s face. “Okay. Shall I go up ahead?”
“That would be fine with me,” he said. “Just… Don’t go too far away, please?” Roxas felt silly saying this, but he also didn’t want to be alone out there.
“Alright.”
She didn’t waste a single second. While Roxas still fiddled with his shirt, admittedly dawdling, she already made her way to the shore and walked into the waves. She was wearing one of those water shirts alongside her bikini panties, and had already discarded her shorts before they started sparring.
Roxas sighed again after he had finally pulled his t-shirt over his head, and bashfully scratched his arm. He felt so stupid… Like he was overreacting. Rationally, Roxas knew that back when he had almost drowned, it had been because he had been wearing a heavy, black coat and been thrown into the water by complete surprise, without even knowing that he would have to keep himself afloat. Rationally he knew that now, this wasn’t the case. But it didn’t feel that way. It still felt dangerous and like something he’d rather not do because he wanted to live a while longer. And while Roxas knew by now that emotions and rational thinking didn’t work in the same way, it still confused him whenever his heart and mind weren’t just slightly off-tune, but directly opposing each other.
Well, there was no way around this anymore – he had already agreed to going into the water with her. Roxas sighed once more and finally followed her slowly. He absolutely didn’t feel like running towards the shore, it was not like he was looking forward to this. Sure, he was sweating as well, but still…
He stopped. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea at all.
A rather large wave came and reached his feet. It wettened the sand underneath his soles, and washed around his feet. Roxas was surprised to find that it was cooler than the humid air around him, but not unpleasantly cold. Maybe he should go in, just a little bit? But then again, what if the water pulled him downwards again, under its surface? If he couldn’t breathe again? Then he would…
Roxas gritted his teeth and pressed his eyes shut. ‘Maybe as long as my feet stay on the ground, I should be safe.’ The last time, his feet hadn’t been on the ground… It had been too deep down for him to stand. But as long as he could, everything should be okay, right?
He took a few steps forward, until the water reached his ankles. The sand beneath his feet was surprisingly soft, and not hot like on the beach at all. Maybe it was the water since it was cooler. He took another step. This really wasn’t so bad…
Roxas opened his eyes, only to see Kairi floating in the water with her face up and her eyes closed.
No… No, no, no, no, no! This wasn’t good… This couldn’t be good! Was she unconscious? Had something happened to her? Why had this to happen now? What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t swim!
“Kairi!”
She wasn’t too far away from him. Roxas remembered the promise they had made to each other, that if one of them were to come into a life-threatening situation, the other was not going to sacrifice themselves. But he had to try and do something! Maybe his feet would still reach the ground where she was now…
Disregarding the fact that he was in the water, Roxas walked over to her as fast as he could. It made every single step harder, and not just because he felt like he was risking his life. It slowed him down significantly, as if it was pushing against him. The waves didn’t help either.
He didn’t want another person who was important to him to die… He had lost too many of them already. Losing her too… He couldn’t bear the thought of it. Fortunately, Kairi was drifting not too far off.
Surprisingly, the water wasn’t too deep – it barely reached his hips when a wave rolled around, so it had to be shallow enough for her to be able to stand without problems as well. What had happened?
It didn’t matter now. He needed to get her out of the danger first… If he could. Roxas tried to remember how Kairi had done it back when she had rescued him from drowning, but the memory was foggy. He knew that she had pulled one of his arms onto his back, was he supposed to do that too? Wouldn’t that hurt her? He knew his arm, especially the wrist, had stung afterwards, although a simple healing spell had quickly fixed that.
He decided to go for the option that seemed like the most comfortable one to him: to simply grab her under the arms and try to pull her out of the water.
Kairi let out a tiny scream. With a movement that was a lot swifter than Roxas would have predicted, especially considering how much harder the water had made reaching her, she was back on her feet and turned around. Roxas almost expected her to summon her Keyblade as well – if she wasn’t who she was, she probably would have, judging by her expression. Fighting was usually Kairi’s last resort if everything else failed.
“Roxas? Sheesh, don’t give me a scare like that…”
He raised his hands in defense. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s just… You were drifting motionlessly and I thought…”
‘I thought I was going to lose you too.’ He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to even think about it. That meant thinking about the people whom he had lost already. Thinking about that time he almost lost his own life. Thinking about the possibility that it might happen again. Thinking about how he didn’t want to lose her in particular… And forgetting about the bliss that was not thinking too much.
“Oh.” Kairi bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I should have considered that…”
Roxas shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said. “You can’t take everything into account. Besides, you just gave me a scare, that’s all.” He was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen again. Next time, she’d probably warn him or something – that was just how Kairi was. Snarky and mischievous, yes, but also kind and considerate.
“Oh, okay. I guess we’re even then.” She sighed in relief and let herself fall onto her back again. Roxas was surprised to see that she stayed on the surface of the water – despite her feet not touching the ground.
There was a strange beauty to Kairi floating in the water like this, he thought. Her hair was open today, and right now, it flowed around her head like gravity wasn’t a thing anymore. Her entire being seemed to be weightless, but especially her hair. It was long, and floated around her head in three-dimensional waves and swirls, creating unique and fleeting patterns. It was actually darker than its usual maroon whenever it was wet – Roxas liked to compare the color to chili chocolate. But when the sun was shining on it, the red came out even more. But the water seemed to distort some of the light, and those distorted reflexes just added even more depth to those patterns.
She seemed to be completely in her element, and she made it look so easy… But he knew the dangers of the water. He had almost fallen victim to them himself before. Seeing Kairi float like this, even when he was right there and had already overreacted… It made him feel even more uneasy than he already was.
Roxas swallowed. “Why are you doing this?”
She opened her eyes a bit. “Because I find it relaxing,” she replied. “Trust me, the water isn’t as scary once you know how to move and to keep yourself afloat properly. It can even be your friend.”
That sounded like the complete opposite of Roxas’ experience with this element – the last time his feet hadn’t touched the ground of a stretch of water, he had felt like something was pulling him under the surface of the water constantly, and he hadn’t been able to breathe, let alone cry for help.
“I can show you what I mean if you want to.”
He had to admit, he was curious.
“Does it involve going into the water any deeper or… You know…” He took a deep breath. It was getting ridiculous at this point – he couldn’t even say one single word. Roxas gulped. “D-Diving?”
Kairi shook her head. “Nothing like that,” she said. “I just thought about carrying you around a bit.”
“You mean a piggyback ride?” They had done that before, although he had been the one carrying her. Roxas wondered how that was supposed to show him that water wasn’t scary.
“I mean bridal style.”
Oh. So she was talking about carrying him in front of her, in her arms. Roxas had to admit that he kinda liked the idea,  but at the same time he couldn’t help but think about how she was going to manage that. The one time he had carried Kairi before had been extremely exhausting, and he was probably a bit heavier than her. Plus, even though Roxas admired her seemingly limitless stamina, she wasn’t exactly physically strong.
Besides, there was the issue with the water. It had pulled him down last time, why should this time be any different? Could she really withstand that pull downwards?
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Kairi said. “It’s just a suggestion.”
“I might be too heavy for you,” Roxas pointed out. “No offense, Kairi, but… You aren’t exactly the strongest…”
“True,” she nodded. “The water will carry a lot of your weight for me though.”
That sounded like the opposite of Roxas’ previous experiences with water… But he also knew Kairi wouldn’t suggest this if she wasn’t absolutely sure. If he had to entrust his existence – his life – to somebody, it would be her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already saved him from drowning once, and Roxas had no doubt that she would do it again if she had to.
He didn’t want to bring her into the situation again, but the fact was just… She knew better than him with his fear of deeper stretches of water and little life experience. If she deemed it safe, then perhaps it was a lot safer than he thought.
Roxas slowly took a few more steps into the water, closing the distance between them. By the time he stood in front of her, he was deep enough for the waves to cover the scar on his abdomen.
Kairi waited for him patiently. Since she was smaller than him, the water reached up to her ribcage.
Roxas swallowed. “How do you suggest we do this?”
Kairi smiled, hearing that he really wanted to do this. “However you feel the most comfortable,” she said warmly, and that alone made Roxas feel a little bit more secure. “We can go a bit closer to the shore if you feel more comfortable with that, or…”
“Can I just hold on to you?”, he interrupted her. He didn’t know where that came from – he just felt a lot safer with her.
Kairi shrugged. “Whatever you feel most comfortable with.”
If she wanted to carry him bridal style, he couldn’t just hug her, Roxas realized. So he put his arms around her neck instead.
Kairi wrapped one of her arms around his torso. “Ready when you are.”
Roxas nodded. “Okay.”
He actually didn’t like the thought of his feet leaving the sandy ground of the ocean at all, even with Kairi holding him… Didn’t that mean he brought her into danger too? Since he couldn’t swim… What if he panicked in her arms? Would she be able to handle that?
Roxas didn’t remember that time when he almost drowned too well. He only remembered not being able to breathe and the feeling of being dragged down. The way Donald and Goofy had described it in their retelling of the events however, it sounded like he had been panicking back then too though. Kairi had been able to save him despite that. She knew what she was doing… But also, Roxas didn’t want to bring her into this situation again.
… Fine. He just had to not panic then.
Roxas lifted one of his feet up. He immediately felt the waves stronger than before, like they were trying to push him off balance – would he fall? Was this it? He pressed his eyes shut and gasped for air. Maybe he could…
“Easy,” Kairi said, and he felt her other arm in his kneecap, realizing that she kept him from sinking. “One step at a time.”
He opened his eyes again. Kairi looked completely calm – not scared in the slightest. Somehow, that made him feel a bit calmer as well.
Roxas knew from experience that fear rarely got better from waiting too long. If he left his other foot on the ground for too long, it would eventually take over once more, and they would get nowhere from there… And he had come this far. Roxas grit his teeth as he took another breath, then pushed himself off the ground.
There was the fear again.
He gasped for air once more.
‘Don’t panic.’
Now that both of his feet weren’t on the ground anymore, he just waited for the water to pull him downwards once more.
‘Don’t panic!’
Or a for a wave to wash both him and Kairi away. He just hoped she would be able to come out of this unharmed…
‘Don’t panic!!!’
This had definitely been a bad idea… A thousand things could go wrong…
But nothing happened.
Roxas opened his eyes again – he hadn’t even noticed that he has pressed them shut this time around.
The first thing he saw was Kairi’s face. She was smiling at him, with a sense of pride in her expression. “You did it.”
For a short, weird moment, Roxas wanted to argue. He hadn’t really done anything, except successfully suppressing a panic attack, but before he could say that, he realized something way more important: he wasn’t sinking. Despite the fact that his feet didn’t touch the ground anymore, the water didn’t pull him under the surface. Sure, Kairi was there holding him too, but for some reason, Roxas didn’t get the feeling that she was fighting to keep him afloat. It was almost as if she didn’t have to carry the entirety of his weight – as if the water was helping her.
“How are you doing that?”, Roxas asked. “Are you using magic or…”
Kairi laughed. “Actually, I’m not doing much,” she confessed. “The water keeps you afloat on its own. It’s just what it does.”
“But…” The last time it hadn’t done that. “How?”
Kairi laughed. “I don’t know if I’m good at explaining this, but it’s basically because water is part of what your body is made of.”
That couldn’t be right. Ansem had explained Roxas how a body worked in detail when he had first nursed him back to health after…
“It’s made of cells,” he corrected her. “And I think those are made of various carbon compounds, not water.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Kairi shrugged. “Still, your body contains lots of water too, but a lot less salt than the sea does. Salty water is heavier than sweet water is, so you float on the surface.”
Huh. That sounded logical. Still… “The water was salty too last time though.”
“But you weren’t wearing swimming trunks back then,” Kairi pointed out. “Clothes tend to drag you down when they get wet.”
That made sense to him as well. “Fair point,” Roxas admitted. Maybe this was a lot safer than he had initially thought… He even relaxed a little.
Up until now, Roxas hadn’t realized how tense he had been – he had been clinging to Kairi’s neck like his life depended on it. To be honest, that was how he had felt. But after all, it didn’t feel all that dangerous. Even if Kairi wasn’t able to hold him anymore, he could simply put his feet back onto the floor of the ocean.
“Hey, would you mind if I go in a little deeper?”, Kairi asked. “I think that would make it a bit easier for me to carry you.”
Roxas didn’t know how he felt about that… Did deeper water mean greater danger?
Kairi smirked in that mischievous way she always did whenever she was up to something. “I promise I will never let you drown.”
Somehow, the joke did its job – it managed to get a small, albeit nervous laugh out of him. “Good one!”
Roxas knew that Kairi would never expose him to danger on purpose. He trusted her. Besides, if it was too much, he could always back out. She would never force him to face his fears, even though she sometimes gave him the motivation he desperately needed. Besides, he really wasn’t a good judge when it came to water.
So he nodded. “Alright.”
Kairi smiled. “Tell me when to stop, okay?”
“Okay.” He didn’t plan to though. He wanted to push his own limits a bit, and how to do this better than together with someone he trusted, who also knew the thing he was afraid of a lot better than he did?
It was still good to know that he had the option though – even if he didn’t plan on using it now.
Kairi walked deeper into the water slowly. To Roxas’ surprise, he barely noticed it. Either Kairi was lifting him up higher by herself, or the water was – most likely a bit of both though.
She stopped once the water reached her chest. “Is this okay?”
Roxas nodded. “It’s fine.”
He relaxed some more, this time his entire body. Now that he did, he suddenly felt how tired his muscles were, and not just from the training earlier. A general wave of sleepiness washed across him. Must be the adrenaline rush wearing off…
Roxas leaned back so the back of his head was against the water. For some reason, he didn’t mind the water flowing into his ears anymore, nor did he mind the muffling of all the sounds he had heard before. Instead, he could hear a light, quiet crackling. Kairi was right… He had done it. And he would do the rest that it took to learn how to swim as well… Maybe not today, but this was certainly a beginning. But he couldn’t have done this without her.
He lifted his head a bit and smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Kairi smiled back. “You’re welcome, I’m glad I could help a bit.”
Roxas sighed as he leaned back once more. “You know, Kairi… As long as you’re with me, I know I’m safe.”
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scotianostra · 3 years
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Happy 60th Birthday Susan Boyle.
Susan  was born on April 1, 1961, in Blackburn, West Lothian, her   father, Patrick Boyle, was a miner and WWII veteran. Her mother, Bridget, was a shorthand typist. Susan, the youngest of eight surviving children, was deprived of oxygen at birth long enough to cause mild brain damage. The physical trauma created learning disabilities for the young girl. Susan grew up in a musical family her father sang, and her mother sang and played the piano and she found comfort in music at an early age.
An industrial town of fewer than 5,000 people, Blackburn was hardly a place to nurture the young Susan's musical interests. School wasn't a refuge for Boyle either; at school she was diagnosed with learning difficulties, and she became a target for bullies. She was often mocked, and her peers called her "Simple Susie." Yet Boyle persisted with music, and began performing in school productions at the age of 12. Her teachers, recognizing her talent, encouraged her to continue performing at school, but she graduated with few academic qualifications.
Boyle landed a job in the kitchen of West Lothian College, and enrolled in several government-training programs. Boyle continued singing for pleasure, and occasionally went to the theatre to hear professional singers. It was during one of these performances that she first heard the song "I Dreamed a Dream" performed in a production of Les Misérables. "It took my breath away," she says. "It was amazing."
In 1995, Boyle went to Glasgow to audition for My Kind of People, she was nervous during the audition, and felt she didn't do her performance justice, but her brother theorizes that she was rejected because of her unconventional looks. She was summarily rejected from the show, but Boyle remained undeterred. She continued to sing at church, and at the local karaoke nights in her regular local pub at the Happy Valley Hotel.
Susan suffered a personal loss in 1997, when her father passed away. After his death, she put her big dreams on hold to care for her ailing mother. As the youngest -- and the only child in the family with no spouse or children -- the burden of care fell on her shoulders. The mother and daughter, who were very close, often talked of Susan's possible fame. Bridget Boyle supported her daughter's talent, and encouraged her to take part in singing competitions. "She was the one who said I should enter Britain's Got Talent. We used to watch it together," Susan later told reporters. "She thought I would win."
Encouraged by her mother, Boyle used all of her savings in 1999 to pay for a professionally cut demo tape, which she sent to record companies, radio talent competitions, local and national TV. She continued to dream of a day when the world would recognize her talent. But Boyle faced hardship yet again in 2000, when she lost her sister Kathleen to an asthma attack. She took the loss hard, and turned to her music for solace.
Boyle began taking singing lessons from voice coach Fred O'Neil in 2002, hoping to improve her chances of fame. She made several amateur recordings for benefits and local performances, but seemed resigned to only local notoriety. In 2007, Boyle's mother passed away. The death crushed Susan, who subsequently withdrew from the local talent show and karaoke circuit. For nearly two years, Susan refused to sing. Instead, she lived alone in her mother's house with her cat, Pebbles. Now unemployed, Boyle devoted her time to volunteering with the elderly at her local church, and rarely thought of singing.
But in August of 2008, Boyle's singing coach urged her to tryout for the television talent show Britain's Got Talent. Convinced that the performance would be a final tribute to her mother, Boyle auditioned in Glasgow, Scotland. She performed a rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Misérables on the first round of the show, which was watched by over 10 million viewers when it aired on April 11, 2009.
Boyle's humble looks provided a sharp contrast to her studio-quality voice. The performance stunned the audience and cynical judges, including  Simon Cowell. Boyle's performance was widely reported, and the clip became the most watched video on YouTube. She soon became the dark horse favourite of the competition, and her admission on the show that she had "never been kissed" endeared her to audiences.
After the show aired, Boyle became known as "The Woman Who Silenced Simon Cowell." Her overnight fame overwhelmed her, and on the eve of the final show, she threatened to quit the competition. After rallying for her final performance, Boyle lost to the dance group, Diversity. Critics of the loss say that Boyle may have lost due to an internet voting scam. Regardless, Boyle continues to perform. Her first album, I Dreamed a Dream was released in November 2009. It was a huge hit, selling over a million copies in six weeks, and topping charts in the United States and United Kingdom. A year later, in November 2010 Boyle released a Christmas album titled The Gift. The Gift also soared to the No. 1 spot on U.S. and U.K. charts. Boyle's third album, Someone to Watch Over Me, was released in November 2011.
In June 2012, Boyle announced that she had begun recording a fourth album with a new producer, but hasn't released any specific details about the project. On her website, Boyle wrote to fans about her newest album: "I'm not going to give any hints at the moment, as I want this album to be more of a surprise, but I'm having a great time and I'm working with another fabulous guy, so I'm hoping you will all love this new album
It took till 2013 before she played her first solo tour in July 2013 with 7 concert dates in Scotland before more concerts in England, Wales the North America, probably her proudest moment was singing  "Mull of Kintyre" at the Opening Ceremony of the 2014 Commonwealth Games.
To mark the anniversary of her appearing on BGT Susan released her eighth studio album, Ten, on 31st May 2019. , she also just managed to complete her "Ten Tour", which kicked off in Edinburgh's Usher Hall.
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dawnsrose · 3 years
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BASIC QUESTIONS
first name?  aurora
surname?  capulet
middle names?  josephine antoinette
nicknames?  briar rose / rose ... i guess heh
date of birth?  february 26th
age?  twenty - five
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
height?  5′6ft / 1.70m
weight?  121lbs / 55kg
build?  slim
hair colour?  very light blonde, golden - like
hair style?  straight and lightly curled at the end, with bangs
eye colour?  violet, kind of a purple-ish blue
eye shape?  almond
glasses or contact lenses?  neither
distinguishing facial features?  the color of her eyes, but also her lips are naturally a really pretty pinkish color
which facial feature is most prominent? i don’t think there is one ?  her face is very well balanced, although i guess her eyes are the most attention - catching part
which bodily feature is most prominent?  her waist, it is quite small!
other distinguishing features?  nope
skin?  fair ,  and her skin do be clear af we love to see it
hands?  small and dainty
make up?  she doesn’t really wear makeup, but she thinks its fascinating! her favorite items are mascara and lipstick
scars?  none
birthmarks?  none
tattoos?  none
physical handicaps?  none
type of clothes?  dresses ,  though she would love to incorporate some pants into her wardrobe .  usually wears neutral / earthy tones ,  unless it’s a special occasion ,  in which she’ll wear either pink or blue .  loves a nice skirt .  think cottagecore outfits !
how do they wear their clothes?  again ,  light and cottagecore outfits .  think of outfits like these: 1 2 3 4 5
what are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc)  aurora takes really good care of her feet ,  so they’re pristine !  she really hates wearing shoes ,  but wears them when she’s in public so as not to seem weird .  she really enjoys the feeling of her feet touching the grass though ,  as it reminds her of home
race / ethnicity?  caucasian
mannerisms?  classy ,  delicate and polite .  very ballerina like ,  except her gestures aren’t as grandiose .  i would say a good example of her demeanor is audrey hepburn ,  or the movements in old / classic barbie movies like nutcracker or swan lake .
are they in good health?  for the most part !  she has a bit of anxiety when surrounded by many people ,  but it’s getting better .
do they have any disabilities?  none
PERSONALITY
what words or phrases do they overuse?  little expressions of surprise like “ goodness! ”  or  “oh!”
do they have a catchphrase? none
are they more optimistic or pessimistic?  optimistic for sure
are they introverted or extroverted?  ambiverted leaning towards introverted 
do they ever put on airs?  not at all !
what bad habits do they have?  sleeping in heheh she may be an early bird ,  but aurora really enjoys sleeping in and napping
what makes them laugh out loud?  philip being a clown. honestly it’s not hard to make aurora laugh, especially over silly things
how do they display affection?  gentle touches, words of affirmation, poetry, tender gazes
mental handicaps?  none
how do they want to be seen by others?  as someone who cares about them and that can be trusted
how do they see themselves?  as someone who still has a lot to live and learn and give, but who appreciates every little thing around her. she sees herself as a good person who is just trying her best
how are they seen by others?  i think people see her as someone kind and full of life. something like the embodiment of hope. maleficent probably sees her as a nuisance though
strongest character trait?  i’d say it’s a tie between how much she believes in goodness and kindness, and how perserverant she is 
weakest character trait?  she dispairs quite easily, but always ends up collecting herself
how competitive are they?  not very !  it’s about the experience ,  not the result 
do they make snap judgements or take time to consider?  it depends on the situation, i think. but more often than not, aurora is capable of thinking things through before reacting --- except for when it comes to her feelings.
how do they react to praise?  lots of blushing and dismissal ,  though she appreciates it always
how do they react to criticism?  lots of self doubting and crying at first, but she’s thankful and appreciative of it all, because she assumes it means the other cares about her improvement and well being 
what is their greatest fear?  being alone
what are their biggest secrets?  that she doesn’t hate maleficent , and wants to meet and talk to her
what is their philosophy of life?  treat others as you wish to be treated and have faith in love
when was the last time they cried?  when she first saw philip in elias
what haunts them?  fear of never meeting her parents
what are their political views?  she knows nothing about politcs, just wants everyone to be treated with respect and equally
what will they stand up for?  prejudice ,  unnecessary rudeness ,  racism ,  homophobia ,  mysogyny ,  literally anything that puts someone in an uncomfortable spot .
who do they quote?  probably her aunts heh
are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?  outdoorsy !
what is their sinful little habit?  she’s very secretive and sneaky about her thoughts ,  and likes finding little loopholes in things
what sense do they most rely on?  touch and hearing
how do they treat people better than them?  with respect ,  would like to learn from them as well
how do they treat people worse than them?  also with respect , tries to find common ground and understand why they are that way 
what quality do they most value in a friend?  kindness and support
what do they consider an overrated virtue?  detachment 
if they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?  how dependent of others she feels .  it’s not her fault of course, but she wishes she had more control of her life .
what is their obsession?  the feeling of being loved 
what are their pet peeves?  loud sounds / people arguing over silly things
what are their idiosyncrasies?  she tends to panic and overthink things at times, which can be bad
FRIENDS & FAMILY
is their family big or small? who does it consist of?  i’d say it’s decent sized / kind of big ,  considering she still considers the good fairies family .  plus ,  philip’s also become part of her family ,  and his family is huge .
what is their perception of family?  any and everyone who is there for you when you need them most and cares for you as you care about them
do they have siblings? older or younger?  none .
describe their best friend.  i don’t think she has one ?  give her a best friend :(  philip can’t be both okay that’s too much.
ideal best friend?  just someone she can be a silly romantic with, who’ll watch movies and read books and sing or dance with her, maybe go on walks / play with animals too ! 
describe their other friends.  most of aurora’s friends are really sweet ,  nice people .  she’s also protective of many of them ,  like dani for example .  there’s others she actually looks up to ,  like penelope for example or emily .  she thinks they’re both absurdly glamorous and beautiful .
describe their acquaintances.
do they have any pets?  not really, but aurora loves animals and gets along with them so well so ...  who knows heheh she had lots of animal companions back home though
who are their natural allies?  the charmont family
who are their surprising allies?  not too sure but thackery binx and i think hercules zevrous would be an ally to her as well!
PAST & FUTURE
what was your character like as a baby? as a child?  not too different from how they are now. aurora was a very lively, happy child! she was also absurdly kind and was full of life, while being naturally graceful and poised. i don’t think she was one to cry a lot either, and was most grateful for everything the good fairies did for her.
did they grow up rich or poor?  while she wasn’t poor, aurora had a fairly modest upbringing, since she did live in a cottage in the glen back home, but nothing lacked for her in terms of essentials and etc.
did they grow up nurtured or neglected?  nurtured by the good fairies! aurora grew up knowing nothing but love.
what is the most offensive thing they ever said?  i legit don’t think aurora has ever offended anyone like that? if she doesn’t have anything good to say she’d rather not say anything at all, and nothing has annoyed to the point of doing so. at least not thus far.
what is their greatest achievement?  i think still being alive lmao
what was their first kiss like?  oh i don’t know yet 👀
what is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?  i legit can’t think of anything other than her argument with the fairies about philip, but she came around soon enough.
what are their ambitions?  to be reunited with her family, to have a big wedding with philip, to understand maleficent’s ideals, to become more independent.
what advice would they give their younger self?  to just believe in herself, and that everything will fall into place. 
what smells remind them of their childhood?  fresh flowers and grass.
what was their childhood ambition?  to find love.
what is their best childhood memory?
what is their worst childhood memory?
did they have an imaginary childhood friend?  nope!  she had a fair amount of animal companions, so there was never any need for imaginary ones. 
when was the last time they were crushed with disappointment?  that brief moment when meeting philip in elias where she thought she would have to ignore him for the rest of her life due to being engaged to someone.
what past act are they most ashamed of?  arguing with her aunts over love and being so sad/crying so much about it.  still, she doesn’t think she could have behaved any other way.
what past act are they most proud of?  i think she’s extremely proud of how she’s been living in elias so far,  not relying on others for help and taking good care of herself.
has anyone ever saved their life?  i think in a way, everyone who’s been involved in keeping her away from maleficent has saved her life.
strongest childhood memory?
LOVE
do they believe in love at first sight?  OH HELL YEAH
are they in a relationship?  yes !  happily married :`)
how do they behave in a relationship?  not much different from how she normally does, but she definitely blushes and sighs a lot more every time she thinks of philip.  also loves to talk about him, please ask her about her man.
when did you character last have sex?  ... never 👀
what sort of sex do they have?  none lmao
has your character ever been in love?  OH YEAH
have they ever had their heart broken?  yes, but it wasn’t his fault.
CONFLICT
how do they respond to a threat?  by keeping composure and trying to reason with the person.
are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?  tongue !
what is your character’s kryptonite?  her loved ones, children and animals.
if your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?  a letter from her aunts, which they gave her before she came to elias.
how do they perceive strangers?  as something she has to be on the lookout for despite nothing they’re not always dangerous.
what do they love to hate?  cold weather. 
what are their phobias?  being alone in a large crowd/surrounded by unfamiliar people, losing her loved ones, being in a completely unfamiliar situation. 
what is their choice of weapon?  words, but i think aurora would secretly love to learn how to use a sword. Let Her Fight.
what living person do they most despise?  i guess the easy answer would be maleficent, but aurora really holds no hatred towards her. if anything, she sympathizes.
have they ever been bullied or teased? no.
where do they go when they’re angry?  wherever there’s lots of flowers and warmth.  or to philip.
who are their enemies and why?  maleficent, and that’s because of her father’s clownery !
WORK, EDUCATION & HOBBIES
what is their current job? n/a.
what do they think about their current job? n/a.
what are some of their past jobs? n/a.
what are their hobbies?  dancing (she’s been learning ballet in elias! ), singing, gardening / caring for her flowers, reading.
educational background?  homeschooled by the good fairies, i’d say she has a good grasp on history, mathematics and a few languages, plus other things she’s learned on her own.
intelligence level? slightly above average.
do they have any specialist training? no.
do they have a natural talent for something?  singing !  she’s very gifted when it comes to music and dancing, but singing is definitely where her talent lies.
do they play a sport? are they any good? nope, and no, but she could be !
what is their socioeconomic status?  despite still leaving a fairly common life in elias, aurora is a princess, so she is extremely wealthy. her family is in charge of her expenses in elias, yet she doesn’t spend a lot.
FAVORITES
what is their favorite animal?  she loves all fauna, but bunnies and birds hold a special place in her arms.
which animal do they dislike the most?  crows. for some reason they give her a bad vibe, though she likes birds.  snakes and dragons also make her shiver.
what place would they most like to visit?  honesty ... her home lmao.
what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?  sunrise !  aurora loves waking up in the morning and watching the sky’s pretty colors.  she also adores sunset.
what is their favorite song?  love dance by sergei perkofiev,  fee des lilas by tchaikovsky, quelqu'un m'a dit by carla bruni, moon river by audrey hepburn.
music, art, reading preferred?  all sorts of music but espeically clasical and old love songs. she loves classic literature, but also mystery and romance novels, and her favorite art movements would be romanticism and renaissance.
what is their favorite color? pink ,  but don’t tell merryweather !
what is their password?  briarrose59
favorite food:  i feel like aurora would absolutely love pasta if she tried it.
what is their favorite work of art?  springtime by pierre-auguste cot
who is their favorite artist? jean-honoré fragonard
what is their favorite day of the week?  wednesday 
POSSESSIONS 
what is in their fridge?  a number of juices, some fruits like watermelon and strawberries, milk, ice cream.
what is on their bedside table?  a lamp,  lavander oil, a difuser , perfume bottle and a novel
what is in their car?  doesn’t have one !
what is in their bin? paper bags, crumbled up paper balls, a couple of candy wrappers 
what is in their purse or wallet?  a credit card, some dollar bills and she always has a coinpurse around, just in case.
what is in their pockets? i think some seeds for birds to eat.
what is their most treasured possession?  a gold necklace with a heart pendant, the letter the good fairies gave her.
SPIRITUALITY
who or what is your character’s guardian angel?  OK LETS GO. i would say the good fairies or thackery are her guardian angels, but if i had to name an actual angel, i think it would be chamuel.
do they believe in the afterlife?  yes, she believes everyone that leaves is going somewhere else.
what are their religious views?  she doesn’t really follow any religion in particular, but believes a lot in karma and in the whole “do no harm but take no s***”, “treat others as you want to be treated” way of life.  she does, however, believe in a higher power.
what do they think heaven is?  a place where there’s no sadness, no pain, no evil. somewhere where there’s nothing but love and joy and people are able to live in eternal bliss.
what do they think hell is?  a place where people who hurt others and lived a selfish life learn from / are punished for their mistakes and hopefully become better. maybe one day they’ll reach heaven.
are they superstitious?  a little ,  but not to the point where it clouds her judgement .
what would they like to be reincarnated as?  a bird or a beautiful flower .
how would they like to die?  peacefully ,  before philip ,  hopefully in her sleep and surrounded by her loved ones 
what is your character’s spirit animal? a swan or dove
what is their zodiac sign?  pisces 
VALUES
what do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?  i think lying/keeping someone in the dark all their life as was done to aurora is something she would never want anyone to go through. that and betrayal. 
what is their view of ‘freedom’?  to be able to follow your dreams without fear or worries, to live the life you want.
when did they last lie?  she doesn’t lie !
what’s their view of lying?  incredibly wrong and hurtful. please don’t lie to her.
when did they last make a promise?  not sure.
did they keep or break their last promise?  she always keeps her promises.
DAILY LIFE
what are their eating habits?  she’s very healthy, eats all her greens and fruits and veggies, but will allow herself to indulge in sweets every other week. aurora grew up healthy, but there’s a lot of delicious food in elias and out in the world, and she would like to try it all !
do they have any allergies?  she’s allergic to a few metals, which results in all of her jewelry being real gold. 
describe their home.  i suck at words so here’s a few pictures that i think fit the vibe of her home !  bedroom / bathroom / random wall / kitchen / corner of living room  
are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?  minimalist !
what do they do first thing on a weekday morning?  shower !
what do they do on a Sunday afternoon?  she usually goes for strolls around town, the library or mama odie’s for a nice snack !
what do they do on a Friday night?  relaxing bubble bath and netflix, no joke
what is the soft drink of choice?  none
what is their alcoholic drink of choice?  she doesn’t usually drink alcohol, but isn’t opposed to a bit of wine
MISCELLANEOUS
what or who would your character dress up as for halloween?  i can definitely see aurora dressing up as titania or a fairy of sorts.
are they comfortable with technology?  it was a bit difficult at first, but now she’s much better at it !  still messes up quite a bit though.
if they could save one person, who would it be?  i think philip, since the fairies probably wouldn’t need her help.
if they could call one person for help, who would it be?  in elias, probably thackery and if not him, philip. however, if she’s panicking, philip will probably come first. 
what is their greatest extravagance?  she has a
what is their greatest regret?  doubting her family’s concern for her even if for just a split second, as well as arguing with the fairies.
what is their perception of redemption?  she thinks everyone deserves a chance at it.
what would they do if they won the lottery?  charity.  everything goes to charity.
what is their favourite fairytale?  steadfast tin soldier.
what fairytale do they hate?  the little match girl, for it just makes her cry a lot.
do they believe in happy endings?  absolutely !
what is their idea of perfect happiness?  to be surrounded by people who love you just as much as you love them.
what would they ask a fortune teller?  if her family and kingdom will be alright , and if maleficent will change for the better.
if your character could travel through time, where would they go?  i think the day of her baptism, just to see what really transpired.
what sport do they excel at?  i feel like she could be very good at tennis, equestrianism and fencing !
what sport do they suck at?  i can’t see her being good at anything that overly relies on strength, as aurora is too graceful and delicate. she legit doesn’t wanna do anything that’s too brutal or something.
if they could have a superpower, what would they choose?  to fly or to properly speak to animals.  maybe shapeshifting / changing her appearance so as to hide with easy could be helpful.
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angelqueen04 · 4 years
Text
Hamliza Month, Day 18
@megpeggs @historysalt 
Genderbend First Summary: Colonel Hamilton makes a new acquaintance.
Alexander marched along the snow-covered path, his shoulders hunched against the frigid air as he followed several of his fellow aides toward the local storeroom. Honestly, with every step he took he was regretting more and more his decision to purchase the voucher for these local dancing assemblies that the officers insisted on sponsoring. While he knew it was an excellent way to interact with others outside of his immediate circle of acquaintance, it was also damned cold! How many would actually show up in this kind of weather?
His mental grousing was interrupted when Tench Tilghman suddenly appeared beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Hammie, keep up!” he said cheerfully. “You lollygag far enough behind and you’ll not be found ‘til spring! And stop moping over the fact that the General wouldn’t let you run off with Laurens to play soldier in the Carolinas!”
Alexander rolled his eyes, but nonetheless quickened his pace. They were nearly there, anyway. He pointedly did not respond to Tilghman’s comment about Laurens. Yes, he missed his friend. Yes, he wished the General had let him accompany Laurens down south to fight Cornwallis. None of that was a secret.
“Besides,” Tench added, “tonight’s going to be special! I overheard Dr. Cochran talking to the General – apparently Mrs. Cochran’s niece has come to stay with them. It’s Miss Elizabeth Schuyler, direct from Albany!”
Ah. So that explained Tench’s high spirits. Alexander could recall Tench waxing poetic over the vaunted Miss Schuyler more than once over the years. He had met back in ’75 during a visit he had made to the Albany area, calling her “good-natured” and describing her “dark, lovely eyes” and how they emphasized her “good temper and benevolence”. Tench had been clearly smitten with her, and still was, it appeared. [1]
Alexander himself could not claim any acquaintance with the lady. His trip to Albany after the victory at Saratoga had included a brief visit to General Schuyler’s home, where he had hoped to gain advice on the best manner to convince General Gates to release his vicelike grip on a number of troops who were desperately needed further south, but the lady in question had not been home at the time.[2] Still, he also recalled the joke she had made to Tilghman, which the man had passed along, about how she had teased him about his “upcoming nuptials” and that she looked forward to being “a bridesmaid at his wedding”. Alexander was not entirely sure of the context of this little joke – Tilghman had not retold it very well – but from what he could tell, that did not bode well for his friend’s chances with her, if she was talking about attending his bride rather than being the bride herself.
Finally, they arrived at their destination and made their way inside. Grateful to finally be out of the cold, Alexander sought and obtained a glass of punch. Sipping it, he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t half-bad. Whoever had organized the refreshments must have gotten creative, since it was far above the swill that was normally served.
It did not take long for the music and dancing to begin. General Washington, who greatly enjoyed dancing, led the first set by stepping out with Mrs. Greene. Alexander, knowing his duty to the ladies who had come tonight, partnered with a Miss Abigail Rollins, who had in the past proved a better dancer than conversationalist. This was the first time he had seen her since the previous winter, and time had not much improved her, as she proved to be as tongue-tied as ever.
When the time came for the musicians and dancers alike to take a break, many broke into different groups, some taking the chance to reestablish acquaintances, some to discuss politics, and others simply to sit down and rest their tired feet. Alexander had thought to join the group surrounding the General – at least there he could likely be assured of some intelligent conversation – when someone calling his name through the crush caught his attention.
“Alexander! Colonel Hamilton!”
Alexander turned, and immediately brightened as a young woman, her dark hair freshly powdered, approached him, a beaming smile on her face. “Miss Livingston,” he said, suddenly feeling much cheered. He took her proffered hand and kissed it as he bowed to her. “How delightful to see that you are again come among us,” he said, feeling some measure of delight for the first time since the assembly had begun. “The room has become all the brighter from your amiable presence!”
She laughed, tapping her fan on his arm teasingly. “And you are as charming as ever, my dear friend,” she replied. “Be careful, Alexander, lest you give some poor girl the wrong idea.”
He gave her his best, most innocent expression, which only made her laugh more. As they settled into a conversation, Alexander could feel himself beginning to relax. A conversation with Kitty Livingston, a lady he had known for some years, since the days when he had boarded with her family while he attended school in Elizabethtown, was just what he needed. Someone he could engage in a conversation without undue expectations being raised.
However, he soon discovered that Kitty had other plans.
After a little time had passed, where they had asked about mutual acquaintances and her family – everyone was well – Kitty’s gaze was caught by something over her shoulder. A mischievous sparkle entered her dark eyes. “Ah, Alexander,” she said, “There is someone you should meet.”
He eyed her curiously. “And who might that be, madam?”
Kitty did not respond directly, but instead waved her hand and called, “Eliza! Here, dear, you must meet Colonel Hamilton!”
Blinking at the sudden turn in conversation, Alexander turned in the same direction Kitty was waving at. Approaching them was another young woman, dressed in a deep green silk and wool with embroidered pink flowers. Her hair powdered like Kitty’s, but not enough to entirely disguise the rich, dark color.
“Alexander,” Kitty said from his right, “please allow me to introduce my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Schuyler. Betsey, this is Colonel Alexander Hamilton, aide-de-camp to General Washington.”
Ah, so this was the lady that had so bewitched Tilghman. Taking her in, Alexander supposed he could understand the other man’s interest. While she would not be considered a conventional beauty – he imagined that most would say that Kitty was the fairer of the two ladies – there was no denying that she was still very handsome. No wispy, willowy thing, there appeared a measure of health and strength in how she carried herself. Suddenly, Alexander recalled a story Tilghman had told of Eliza climbing a steep hill to a waterfall without one bit of help, while all of the other ladies of the party had required the aid of the gentlemen to make it up the steep, slippery slope.
Her most striking feature, however, the one that caught his attention the most, was Miss Schuyler’s fine, dark eyes. They sparkled in the candlelight, and lit up her entire face as she smiled and curtsied to him. Alexander was startled to feel himself blushing a bit as he bowed in return. “Miss Schuyler,” he said, “a true pleasure.”
“Indeed, Colonel Hamilton,” Miss Schuyler responded. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well. My father has spoken highly of you and your talents. He asked me to convey his best wishes to you, should we have occasion to meet.”
Alexander was startled, but pleased. He had come to like and respect General Schuyler – though now technically he was Mr. Schuyler now, serving in Congress – when they had met during Alexander’s trip to Albany. It was gratifying to be remembered by such an excellent man.
As he fell into conversation with the two ladies, he could not help but take Miss Schuyler in further. It didn’t appear that Tilghman had exaggerated her qualities. There was something warm about the lady. She did not put on airs or give herself graces, but spoke gently and kindly. While she didn’t appear to have Kitty’s razor-sharp wit, she was by no means dull or simpering either. Miss Schuyler was well-informed of the doings of Congress – something Alexander attributed to her father’s position – and was keenly interested in the plight of the soldiers. “Mrs. Washington has invited me to join her on her rounds in visiting them,” she mentioned. Her expression was open and earnest. “I hope to be useful in any way I can.”
Soon enough, the musicians retook their positions and began to play again. A young man, a major, appeared and bowed to Kitty. “Miss Livingston, I believe I have the pleasure of the next set?”
Kitty beamed. “Indeed so, Major Gibbons.” Taking his outstretched hand, she flashed a smile in both Alexander and Miss Schuyler’s direction before stepping off with the man, leaving the two of them alone.
Alexander glanced around. He did not see anyone else approaching to claim Miss Schuyler for the next dance, which surprised him. New arrivals were always a subject of much interest, and their cards would be filled up quickly. In fact, he was equally surprised that Tilghman hadn’t bounded over to her like an overexcited pup, given his earlier anticipation of her company.
“If you are not engaged, Miss Schuyler,” Alexander said impulsively, “might I induce you to join me on the floor?”
A flicker of surprise crossed her handsome features, and then she smiled at him. “I would be honored, Colonel,” she replied, her voice soft. Obligingly, he held out his hand to her, and she laid her gloved hand in his own so that he might lead her out among the other couples.
It turned out, Alexander soon discovered, that Miss Schuyler was as excellent a dancer as she was good company off of the dance floor. At end of the assembly, he had the chance to escort her out to the sleigh that would bear her back to aunt and uncle’s lodgings. He aided her into the sleigh, helping her settle into the seat next to Kitty, and then kissed her hand before stepping back.
“I have had a most enjoyable evening in your company, Miss Schuyler,” Alexander said. “I do hope we shall meet again in the near future.”
“As do I, Colonel Hamilton,” Miss Schuyler said, her smile now taking on a shy but pleased quality. She then glanced at Kitty briefly, before adding, “We were planning to go for a sleigh ride in a few days. We should be delighted if you would join us.” [3]
He bowed. “It would be my honor,” Alexander said, and was pleased to feel that he truly meant it. He found he rather liked this young lady that Kitty had introduced him to.
There was no chance to say anything else, because at that moment the driver of their sleigh flicked the whip and the horses started forward, carrying the ladies off.
As he walked back toward headquarters a short time later, Alexander found that he did not so much mind the cold as he had earlier in the evening. He felt pleasantly warm the whole way.
 -----
[1] Tench Tilghman was very complimentary of Eliza when he described her in his diary, and it sounds as though he did indeed have something of a crush on her.
[2] This is speculation on my part. There really is no way of knowing for certain one way or the other if Eliza and Alexander first met when he visited the area after the Battle of Saratoga. It’s possible, of course, but it’s equally possible that Eliza may have been in Boston at the time, visiting Angelica. Chernow, for one, seems to believe that they did meet at this time, but he does not cite a source to back this belief up.  All we really do know is that Alexander arrived in Albany in early November 1777 and did visit the Schuyler family home while in the area. But I would point out that, at this time, Angelica was pregnant with her first child (who would be born in April 1778), so it’s possible that Eliza had gone to visit and help her prepare for the birth and motherhood to come. I went with that interpretation here.
[3] Alexander Hamilton to Catharine Livingston and Elizabeth Schuyler, circa January/February 1780.
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trillian-anders · 4 years
Text
s’mores
pairing: chef!bucky x plus!reader
warnings: fluff, domesticity, 
word count: 1.8k
description: chef!au; you and bucky have a bedtime routine
just a taste masterlist
Tumblr media
“What is that?” Bucky stepped up from the couch to help you at the door, the fifty-pound box you were trying to slide across the floor. You grin up at him,
 “A firepit.” 
 Now that the inside decor was mostly taken care of you were slowly piecing together something for your small patio. You’d been bringing home cushion covers, string lights, a crate for blankets. “For when it gets cold.” You tell him. But he was happy to let you do whatever made you happy. And this seemed to make you really happy.
 It was an odd day off for him. After giving Sam a few days off for him and Wanda to travel upstate to a bed and breakfast for their anniversary he pushed Bucky to take some time off for himself. The only problem with that was, you’d been busy all week.
 It was the end of another quarter, a big project that Stark was trying to launch, some app that you didn’t really explain too much to him about because it was mostly for corporations to see what quality of workplace they were creating. It had something to do with hours of work, versus difficulty of work, versus pay and formulated a score. And with this score it would show you how to improve the quality of work for employees.
 Needless to say, in testing, Tony had given you a raise among many others.
 But it took up a lot of your time.
 Which is why he was so surprised you came home with the firepit anyway. The two of you were listening to music and sitting outside, Bucky on the ground while you sat on the cozy deep outdoor couch that you’d given him heart eyes over when you’d originally gone shopping for outdoor furniture.
 “Can you hand me that screwdriver, right there?” He asked, holding his hand out for you to hand the tool to him, which you did, while also letting him take a sip of your old fashioned. His own long since finished but hadn’t quite gotten up to make another. “Thank you.”
 You were anxiously waiting for him to finish. A pile of sticks off to the side you’d already collected along with a couple of large branches you’d snapped and what was left of the briquettes from the grill just in case it wasn’t enough and beside you on the coffee table he’d pushed out of the way, marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers.
 He flipped the metal base over, pushing himself off the ground he moved it a comfortable distance away while you sipped on the strong drink, admiring the view of your boyfriend bending over in front of you.
 “What do you think?” He asked. You grin up at him,
 “It’s perfect.” You stood while he went inside to make more drinks, laying the dry sticks and branches on top of the briquettes, using old newspaper from the move to stuff in the sides and light. The sun was just setting, the outdoor string lights flipping on their timer. You hum contently and stick a marshmallow on a skewer. You twisted it around in the flame until it was bubbly and brown, pulling it out as soon as Bucky joined you back outside.
 You held the melty fluff to him and he wrapped his mouth around the marshmallow, pulling it off the skewer before sitting down. Munching happily while he handed you a drink.
 “Thank you.” You grin at him, a sweet marshmallow and bourbon kiss. Next time the marshmallow was melted and you smushed it between the two graham crackers and a couple squares of chocolate, happily taking a bite while Bucky pulled the blanket across your laps.
 “This was a great idea.” He mumbled over a mouth full of s’more. You sip on your drink, a pleasant buzz going through your body, leaning back into his chest as you worked on your second s’more.
 “How do you think Sam’s doing?” You ask. It was a Friday night after all. The first Friday night that Bucky hadn’t worked since the restaurant opened. He kept glancing at his phone in worry. Like maybe Sam would need him. He was also checking the numbers, sales. A 10k hour.
 “They did a 40k lunch today which isn’t bad for a Friday lunch.” That was busy. So they were hoping to do another 50k at least for dinner, “But we are looking closer to 75,” Bucky was worried but he knows and trusts Sam to handle it.
 “Maybe you should have taken off during the week.” You take a sip. “You’d be able to relax more.”
 “Yeah, but you’re not off during the week.” You sigh, leaning further into his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you squeezing you to his side.
 “Still… it would have made you worry less about what’s going on in the restaurant.” He pulls his skewer from the fire, blowing on the marshmallow that had caught fire and he popped it into his mouth.
 “Maybe.” It’s so comfortable. The silence. The radio still playing softly in the background as you both get lost in the flames. Both chocolate bars gone, Bucky munched on graham crackers and the two of you finished off most of the marshmallows. He tasted like sugar and bourbon. A soft kiss on your cheek and then on your mouth, soft fingers tilting your head towards his. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” His tongue is soft, slow. Bucky liked to savor everything, even kissing. His fingers brushing your neck made you shiver. Your lips parting in a soft moan against his. His other hand comes to your leg, tapping it gently before helping you straddle his lap, the blanket falling around your hips, his fingers tracing figures down your back while you slowly kiss. Your fingers finding his hair, scratching gently on his scalp.
You broke for air, resting your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him as he hugged you to his body. You could almost fall asleep. The smell of just him, clean and masculine. The warmth between you. Work had been so stressful this week and you’d looked forward to spending the entire weekend with him. It was the only thing that made you make it through the workweek. Truly. And this hug, those sweet kisses, this closeness, it was giving your brain a much-needed rush of serotonin and you could feel yourself growing drunk with it.
“I love you so much.” You mumble into his neck, the fire warm on your back.
“I love you too baby.” He rubs your back for a moment, “You wanna go to bed?” A soft nod into his neck. “I’ll put this fire out, go ahead, I’ll meet you up there.”
He wasn’t far behind, meeting you at the sink to brush his teeth. You look at him in the mirror, watching him brush, to which he gives you a silly look, moving back to let you spit into the sink and grab mouthwash. A minty kiss after.
You change into some sleep shorts and an old t-shirt, rubbing lotion on your legs and moisturizer on your face while he changes and washes his face.
Bucky had this skin care routine, and he was very diligent with it, but then again his skin was very nice and clear for working in a kitchen and sweating for 75% of his time. The next part of the nighttime routine was probably the hardest.
He would sit next to you on your side of the bed and you’d take the medicated steroid cream given to him by his doctor and rub it into his left arm. The first time you’d done it you didn’t ask how it happened, “I can’t reach fully on my back.” He said. But he applied this cream every day to give the skin its flexibility back. It was stiff and hard to move sometimes. The tattoos he’d gotten, “They did more harm than good.” The inky swirls and Aphrodite herself, he’d gotten them before he went to war. The full sleeve. “There was an accident,” He told you, “It was friendly fire.” What almost blew his arm off was, of all things, friendly fire.
Against Doctor’s orders Bucky enraged the flesh more by going back to his tattoo artist and having the guy fix what he could on the healing and mottled flesh. “I was a dumb kid,” he said, “I thought I was doing the right thing.” Joining the war. “But they just chew you up and spit you out, thank you for your service and sorry but you’re going to be on the phone calling trying to get help every day for the next however many years of your life.” And it hurt you. It hurt you that he’d gone through this. Trying to get the military to pay for his hospital bills, the corrective surgeries, all the pins and rods in his arm. “I’ve got more metal than bone.”
You did what you could, rubbing the steroid cream into his arm, massaging the sore muscles he’d never complain were sore, working the joints of his fingers and massaging it into his back. The heel of your palm digging into his left shoulder at the knots that would form there from the stress on it. A kiss to the back of his neck and you went to wash the cream off your hands.
When you return the covers are turned down, Bucky already scrolling through the sales app on his phone. “He’s fine.” You scold him, climbing into bed. “Put your phone down.” Bucky sighs and darkens the screen, placing it on the end table.
“I know he’s fine…”
“You need to relax.” You softly kiss him, cuddling up into his side. “Sam can handle it, just like you did.”
“I don’t know about all that,” He jests. “He’s terrible at multitasking.” You roll your eyes, the room partially dark save for the light coming from the cracked door of the bathroom. A must for Bucky.
“You’re terrible at multitasking.” You mumble into his chest.
“That’s not what you were telling me yesterday.” Your core pulsed at that, the memory drifting back. You lift up to glare at him, a cheeky grin on his face. “You’re so beautiful.” He licks his lips, “Did you know that?”
“You’re a suck up.” You scoff, burying your head back into his chest, “Did you know that?”
“I love you baby.” His fingers tracing patterns on your back, your eyes beginning to find that tiredness you’d had on the patio.
“I love you too.”
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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years
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Lately, I've found myself drawn to stories ( and I mean drawn to as in envisioning those stories in my head, thinking them through to the very last detail, not reading, let alone writing them down, because I've long since accepted that they will never turn out quite the same on the paper ) where Red is the one who'd been seriously hurt and, therefore, rendered unconscious for an indefinite amount of time and worried Liz is the one who doesn't leave his side, hoping and praying and pleading that he would wake up. Probably, something that has to do with how unfair it is that we've seen Red keep vigil by hurt!Lizzy's side – playing music for her, holding her hand, reading to her etc. – a number of times and yet, over the course of 8 seasons, never have ever been allowed the pleasure of seeing Liz do the same for him ( not even when he was shot – because she left to retrieve the Fulcrum and couldn't come back until the fight was over – or when he was poisoned – because she'd been waiting to be cleared to see him and he ran away the moment he wasn't actively dying, because that's Red for you all ), even though she loves and cares about him as much as he loves and cares about her.
I mean, just imagine the possibilities!
Liz pacing around the waiting area of Red's mobile hospital while he's in surgery, unable to think about anything else other than how he looked – battered and broken and barely alive – when they've found him and how his head rested in her lap ( she could almost convince herself that he was merely dozing, if he wasn't so deathly pale and still and there wasn't so much blood on his clothes and her clothes and her hands and the backseat of the car ) and his hand was limp in her death grip as they rushed him to his doctors and she whispered words of reassurance and encouragement to him even though she knew he couldn't hear her and how she had to fight the instinct to curl around her lover and snarl at anyone who would come close because she can't let him be hurt further as the medics took him away from her, exchanging observations and orders that didn't sound particularly reassuring. She's also acutely aware of the fact that Red is fighting for his life – there, just a few feet away from her – and, though he's the strongest man she's ever known, he may not win, and so she makes a promise to the empty air in front of her that she will kill him herself if he dares to give up on her and Agnes like that now, when they've just reached the good, right place in their relationship, just confesses their feelings to each other. At some point, Dembe most certainly pulls Liz in for a hug, letting her cry in his shoulder, doing his best to comfort her ( even though there's nothing that can bring her more comfort than Red's hug, when he – alive and whole – wraps his arms protectively around her and holds her close and lets her hide from the whole world in his arms, his chest, his shoulder and neck – wherever she prefers to burrow her face at the time – and the memory itself makes her cry harder, because there's a possibility that he will never hug her like that again ), even though he's just as worried and scared as she is, and Mr Kaplan helps Liz clean up, washing away Red's blood from her hands and producing seemingly out of the thin air fresh clothes for her to change into.
Red, of course, pulls through the surgery, beating all odds, and Liz's heart floods with relief at the good news before sinking when the doctor explains to her and Dembe and Mr Kaplan the extent of Red's injuries and that it's impossible to say when – or even if – he wakes up.
And so the waiting game begins. Liz doesn't leave Red's side, holding his hand, stroking his knuckles with her thumb and never letting go, constantly talking to him and reading to him and even asking Dembe to bring the record player and some records from the Bethesda apartment to play to him, hoping that it would elicit some kind of response from him. Yet, as they days go by, there's not a single, smallest sign that he's aware of anything that's going on around him, that he's still there somewhere and is trying to find his way back to her, to them – he doesn't stir, doesn't so much as flutter his eyelashes, and Liz grows more desperate with each passing day, even though the doctor assures her that Red's slowly but surely improving ( but she can't see it with her own eyes, and if she can't see it, she's less likely to believe it, the more time passes with him just lying there, undisturbed by the loud, chaotic world around him ).
And then there's Agnes... While Liz keeps vigil at Red's bedside, the babysitting duties are split equally between Aram and Samar, Charlene and Cooper, Ressler and Audrey and Dembe and Mr Kaplan. Yet more often than not whoever picks little Agnes up from school and / or her ballet classes brings her over to the safe-house where Liz and Red are. She doesn't seem to be as unnerved by Red's state as her mommy is, climbing on his bed each time she visits ( after giving her mommy the biggest hug, of course ) and leaning in close to him, examining his face thoughtfully before half-asking, half-stating "He's still tired, mommy?". And Liz usually replies with a hoarse "Yes, baby" because she doesn't trust herself not to get choked up if she tries to answer more eloquently. Agnes simply nods then, satisfied with the explanation why he hasn't woken up yet, and settles against Red's side – mindful of his injuries and the spider web of wires and tubes connecting him to all sorts of monitors and machines – and either naps ( especially, on ballet classes days ) or tells her mommy and Red ( she talks to him just like Liz does much too easily – promising him to show him the new moves she's learnt when he wakes up etc. – as if she's already done that before or seen anyone else do that... unbeknownst to Liz, she did both – when Liz herself was in a coma, Agnes both saw Red talk to her mommy and was encouraged by him to talk to her, too, because it may help her mommy sleep easier and maybe she'll get better sooner and finally wake up ) about her day or does her homework or draws ( more often than not, she draws either cards for Red to read when he wakes up or just things she wants him to see ). And when the time comes for her to leave, she always kisses Red on the cheek, wishing him "sweet dreams" and to get better soon, and then gives her mommy, who tries so very hard not to tear up but fails miserably, a hug and a kiss, too, and tells her frequently that she shouldn't cry because Red is just too tired, just like she – Liz – once was, and that he just needs to sleep a bit more.
And when the door behind Agnes closes and Liz is sure her daughter won't see / hear her, she breaks down hard, in big, ugly sobs, because her little girl shouldn't be acting so naturally in this kind of situation and because she wishes so hard that Red just woke up, because she can't do this, any of this, without him.
In the end, once his body has healed itself enough and he regained enough of his strength, Red, of course, does wake up. It's a slow process, and Liz thinks she might either faint or go mad from the overwhelming feelings that are swirling inside of her when Red moves for the first time in what seems to her like forever – squeezing her hand feather-lightly – and when he leans slightly, unconsciously into her touch when she strokes his cheek – out of habit, without even expecting any sort of reaction from him and being pleasantly surprised – and when he opens his eyes for the first time – it's a brief occurrence, with his eyes slipping shut tiredly again after just a few moments, and he's still pretty much out of it, apparently, not even noticing her presence by his side, but for Liz it's a major event – and when he finally, finally looks directly at her – alive and conscious and alert – and calls her "Lizzy". He's still weak and his voice sounds terrible and Liz knows she shouldn't let all of her pent-up feelings – the fear and despair and frustration and love and relief and exhaustion – out on him like that – he's just woken up, after all – but she can't hold back the tears nor the jumbled mess of "thank you"s and "I love you"s and " "I've missed you"s and "I'm so so happy you're back" and "I was so worried" and "Don't ever scare me like that again" that spills from her lips as she leans in to kiss him lightly and give him the gentlest of hugs...
(Since I'm not a ficwriter and, therefore, have no intentions of using this pile of ideas/images/feelings myself, I wouldn't mind at all if you or any other writer drew inspiration from this rambling of mine)
Ahhhhh 😭😭😭 Are you sure you're not a fic writer, anon?? Cause this reads like some quality hurt/comfort to me!! 🥲🥲 Honestly, this is a lovely scenario to imagine & it gives me a slightly bitter sense of satisfaction to think of Liz suffering through just a fraction of the time Red spent by her side while she was in her coma... especially if it's the catalyst for fEeLiNgS to emerge tee hee bc, you're RIGHT, we were woefully deprived of those situations in the show & I'll never not be sad about it tbh. More specifically, things I love the most about this in no particular order: Liz having to "fight the instinct to curl around her lover & snarl" *swoon*, Liz swearing she will kill him herself if he dies LMAO, Dembe hugging her for comfort & Mr. Kaplan helping her get cleaned up 🥺🥺🥺, Liz playing records for Red yasss, AGNES & everyone taking turns babysitting her while she misses her Daddy desperately but deals with the situation with a maturity & grace beyond her years in an effort to help her grieving Mommy through it cool cool mkay mkay, Liz only breaking down once Agnes leaves OWWW, anddddd Liz being a blubbering mess when Red finally wakes up & calls her "Lizzie" & they kiss *whispers* it's fine, i'm fine 🙃 IN CONCLUSION, I love this anon, thank you for sharing this lovely little AU with me!! 🥰 And much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️
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miminorenai · 4 years
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Chapter 2
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Sebastian “Mimi —··· you don’t have any injuries, don’t you?”
MC “Huh, y-yes!”
MC comes to her senses with that very calm voice.
MC “Um, Sebastian too, are you hurt......
Sebastian “I don’t get hurt just by catching you.”
(I-if so, that’s great, though.)
With the warmth of the kiss remains on her lips, somehow MC manages to pretend to be calm, despite being greatly shaken.
MC “Thank you very much for saving me.”
Sebastian “It’s dangerous, so please be careful from now on.”
MC “I’ll be careful. Like, really careful.”
Just as MC’s trying to hold back her throbbing heart that doesn’t seem to settle......
Sebastian “By the way, I think we’d better get up from each other soon.”
(Huh? Ugh, I left Sebastian lied underneath me!)
MC “I’m sorry......! I’m really, truly sorry!”
Sebastian stands up as if nothing happened, follows after MC who gets up in a hurry.
Sebastian “No need to worry about it. You must be shaking, since you’d been falling down from the stepladder.”
Sebastian “I’ll check again, but you aren’t injured, are you? Is there any scratches or pain......
MC “I’m perfectly fine, no problem!”
Sebastian “I feel relieved. Well then, please take a rest today.”
MC “T-then......*if you insist, **pardon me for leaving.”
[*お言葉に甘えて - literally - I will let myself be spoiled with your kind words; I will let myself follow your nice words; I will accept your kind offer
[**お先に失礼します -  pardon me for leaving (first) (used when leaving a workplace while others remain)
Sebastian “Thank you for your hard work.”
MC hides the lips that touch Sebastian with the back of her hand and averts her eyes.
(Sebastian’s attitude doesn’t change at all. I wonder if he didn’t realize it......)��
(Or, is it my imagination that I thought our lips touched?)
When MC is about to leave while carrying over a hazy feeling......
Sebastian “............Mimi.”
Sebastian “Although it’s an accident — I’m sorry.”
MC “......!”
His eyes that’s staring at her, which are not normally shaken, trembling in confusion.
(It doesn’t matter even if I don’t ask, that’s how is it, right?)
MC “No, no, it’s due to my carelessness to begin with......! Good night!”
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MC clatters into the corridor, and exhales the breath she has been holding at once.
(After all, at that time......It’s an accident, so I shouldn’t worry about it. I shouldn’t, but......)
(That’s the first time I saw Sebastian’s face so close......)
Sebastian, who has been working with MC this past month, is closer to her than anyone else.
They are supposed to be close as colleagues, but now MC realizes he’s also a man, the violent throbbing in her chest doesn’t seem to subside.
(What should I do, I’m getting so embarrassed.)
(*Mou......what kind of face should I show when I meet him tomorrow?)
[*もう - interjection used to strengthen expression of an emotion (often exasperation)
Early next morning.
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(Act normally. Act normally. Calm down......)
When MC goes to the dining room while maintaining her *usual mind dedication, Sebastian’s opening the curtains.
[*平常心 - one’s natural self
Sebastian “Good morning, Mimi.”
MC “Good morning. Let me help you.”
Sebastian “Then, may I ask for you to take care of the opposite windows?”
MC “Leave it to me.”
(I’m glad we could have conversation as usual.)
(......Or rather, Sebastian hasn’t changed at all.)
Although it’s a bit of disappointment, as MC opens the curtains while still feeling relieved of their usual interaction......
MC “Eh......Sebastian, that flower is blooming.”
Sebastian “That flower?”
MC “Look, that bud we found together in the flowerbed a while ago, the tiny one —
Sebastian “Where is it?”
When MC points out of the window, her shoulder touches Sebastian who walks up next to her.
(Whoa......)
Sebastian “I can’t see it well.”
MC “......”
Sebastian’s face, who’s bending over, seems like about to keep close to MC and it takes her breath away.
(We-we are so close, like yesterday......)
Sebastian “Mimi?”
Stepping back in a hurry, Sebastian looks back at MC wonderingly.
Sebastian “Is something wrong?”
(Let’s get away from here for one moment and calm down!)
Mimi “I’m going to sprinkle water in the garden!”
Sebastian “It’s hard doing it alone. Let me as well......”
Mimi “It’s all right. *I’m off!”
[*行ってきます - see you later
(I’m sorry for acting strangely.)
(But right now, being around Sebastian is too bad for my heart......!)
MC wants to hide her rapidly hotter cheeks, so she leaves the dining room in order to escape.
And after that......
Sebastian “Please give Theodorus-san a pancake with more syrup and berry sauce.”
MC “Yes. ......Oh.”
When MC picks up the plate, her fingertips touch Sebastian lightly.
Her body quivers with a start, and the pancake slips off from the slanted plate.
(The pancake......!)
Sebastian “— I’ll take care of that.”
Sebastian picks up the plate with splendor movement and catches the pancake in the air.
MC “Awe-awesome!”
Sebastian “A butler must be prepared for every situation.”
MC “Sebastian is the model of a butler.”
Sebastian “I’m certainly aiming for that.”
Sebastian “Leaving that aside, what happened? You seem to be distracted by something.”
(Uu, it was so obvious......)
MC “......It’s nothing. I’ll carry this then.”
MC takes the plate this time and hurriedly gets away from Sebastian.
(So embarrassing......I’m getting very conscious of Sebastian.)
(I worry too much about every single thing. Just concentrate well on your job, me......!)
That afternoon, Arthur and Theo asked MC to bring them coffee as they’re relaxing in the living room.
MC “Arthur, here you go.”
Arthur “Thanks. Umm~ the coffee Mimi brews is the best.”
MC “I’m glad to hear that. But I don’t think I can reach Sebastian’s taste yet.”
Arthur, who’s sitting deeply at the sofa, looks up and grins meaningfully at MC.
Arthur “Just because you’re the one who brews it, the deliciousness adds up.”
Theo “Mystery writers with their overly subjective speaking manner.”
Theo “Well, hondje’s doing a good job, but Sebas’s brewed coffee is certainly delicious.”
MC “It’s not only the coffee. I think his cooking is very delicious as well, and his cleaning is flawless.”
(Beside that, he’s very knowledgeable......Is there anything Sebastian can’t do?)
Theo “Why is it hondje who’s looking so proud?”
Theo gives a wry smile while drinking his coffee that’s full with sugar cubes.
Arthur “Of course it’s because Sebas is so competent that she wants to brag about her colleague, right?”
Arthur “We’re grateful for the dramatic improvement in our lives, thanks to Sebas.”
MC “Is it so different than now?”
Theo “The quality of life before he came was terrible. You could say the mansion was a lawless area.”
(To that extent, huh.)
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Arthur “Everyone drank, ate, drank and woke up as they please, isn’t it?”
Theo “This writer with all year-round mating season would constantly spending the night away.”
Arthur “If so, then Dazai too had been wandering around. ......Wait, that guy hasn’t change at all even now, has he?”
MC “I see, it’s like a share house with no rules.”
MC “But there was no butler at that time?”
Arthur “Sometimes we brought in housekeepers. But, it’s hard to keep live-in employees.”
MC “Hard?”
Theo stares at MC in puzzlement and shrugs his shoulder.
Theo “Hondje, have you forgotten our identity?”
MC “Ah, vampires, you mean?”
Theo “There’s really nothing else beside that. Even if a butler or servants are hired, it’s difficult to keep the secret if we are living together.”
Theo “There’re not many strangers who can work here, knowing the truth.” 
(Sure, when I got lost here, I tried to escape immediately.)
While MC’s deeply convinced based on her real experiences......
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Dazai “But then le Comte discovered Sebas-kun, a commendable butler.”
(Ah, Dazai-san.)
Dazai smiles as he gets into the room through the window, like usual.
Dazai “I owe it to him coming that I came to be able to eat miso soup and boiled tofu.”
MC “That is to say, without Sebastian, this mansion wouldn’t go around.”
Dazai “Quite so. It’s no exaggeration to say that our lifeline is in Sebas-kun’s grasp.”  
(I’ve felt it many times during the past month, but Sebastian really is doing everything, and everyone is relying on him.)
Even her share of workload as a helper was difficult for MC.
But until then, she is surprised to hear that Sebastian had done everything by himself.
(His etiquette is perfect, I wonder if he learned the conduct of a butler back when he was in modern era?)
(He sure is a man with lots of mysteries. Ah, but speaking of which......)
MC “Sebastian......have you ever missed your home and thought of wanting to go back to the present-day?”
Sebastian “No. Placing myself among history is something I couldn’t hope for.”
Sebastian “I — since I abandoned this world myself.”
(I don’t know the exact details, but Sebastian wants to stay here.)
Arthur “What’s wrong?”
MC “Ah......somehow I think I’m the only one who’s staying here by the course of events.”
MC “Since I’m not in this world for some purposes.”
Theo “In your case, it’s inevitable, isn’t it?”
(That’s true, but......)
Dazai “Again, your stay in this mansion is an inevitable outcome. I already considered Toshiko-san as ‘*my lady’.”
[*うちの子 -  子 here usually used to mention one’s child/daughter/son, but it’s considered weird for Dazai to consider MC his child (tho it’s kind of acceptable, with his lifetime adding to the additional time of his revived life, I think?), and it’s also could be referred as young woman, so I decided ‘lady’ is better used here~
Arthur “Do you perhaps mean it as ‘the mansion’s lady’? There’s an objection if you’re calling her as yours alone.”
Dazai “Well, I wonder~”
While paying no attention to their frivolous talk, MC vaguely thinking about her future.
(Everyone and Sebastian are choosing to stay in this mansion with a strong will.)
(How much longer will I stay here, I wonder?)
(I don’t know what would the future stores for me, so I guess I’ll just spend my days somehow as it is......)
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He suddenly stops walking by the lively voices heard from the room.
Sebastian “......”
While listening to Mimi and the others’ conversation, a pensive (or worried) look shown on Sebastian’s face for a moment.
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