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discordiansamba · 2 months ago

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the tea shop closes for the evening.

lee takes off his apron and hangs it up, saying goodnight to the owner. she wishes him one in turn, and he heads off into the night. when he gets home, he'll need to get started on dinner- his father often works until late. officially, he's an assistant to a minister at the earth kingdom palace. unofficially, lee knows he's an agent for the dai li- helping keep peace and order in ba sing se. it is a challenging job, and he is proud of him.

he's halfway through making it when his father arrives home.

he smiles at lee and asks how his day was. they talk as he finishes preparing dinner- household chores like these are probably the only other thing he's good at, aside from being a tea server. dessert is the plum tarts that old lady hanako surprised him with at work. he talks to his father in length about the gossip he overheard in the tea shop. he praises him for being so good at listening.

(for some reason, he doesn't tell him about katara.)

lee visits the bathhouse before bed, and runs into jin on the way home. she just got off her shift at the flower shop- she'd helped set up an arrangement for a party. lee walks her home. they kiss outside her door, and lee pointedly ignores the teasing he gets from her father- asking him when the wedding is. they've only been dating for a few months- they're far from ready for that.

he goes to bed in a good mood.

in the morning, he wakes up and gets dressed. he always rises before father, like clockwork almost as if he's rising with the sun. he fusses at his hair in the mirror for a few minutes with a frown. he knows his scar intimidates people, so he tries to hide it as best he can. he prepares breakfast, and eats it alone before he heads to work. he greets the owner, puts on his apron and gets to work.

it's mid-morning when the avatar shows up.

lee stares at him, stunned. he'd known katara had said she might come back with friends, but he hadn't expected the avatar. his fingers twitch slightly, and he frowns. they did that yesterday, too. he's hoping it's not a pattern- the twitching used to be a problem, a few months ago. it hasn't been for awhile, so he'd been hoping it had finally stopped.

lee greets the avatar with a deep, respectful bow. he doesn't see the way he and his companions openly gawk at him- they've schooled their expressions by the time he looks up. he smiles at them and guides them to the best table in the house. the water tribe boy with them asks what he recommends, so lee lists off his favorites.

the earth kingdom girl asks him if he likes tea.

lee laughs. that's a funny thing to ask someone who works in a tea shop- of course he does. he writes down their order and heads back into the kitchen. he doesn't see the furious way they whisper among themselves. he brings their order with a smile- and a few tarts on the house, courtesy of the owner. only the best for the avatar, she said with a chipper smile.

she's right. it's a rare honor to serve someone as important as the avatar. if he'd known he was coming, he would have told jin.

...maybe he can get an autograph for her?

oh oh! AU in which Zuko is brainwashed by the Dai Li into believing he's REALLY Lee from the tea shop.

oh fuck, sorry about your life zuko. and also yours, iroh.

azula doublecrosses zuko after the fall of ba sing se and hands him over to the dai li. she never had any intention of sharing the glory with him. she smiles and tells him that since he enjoyed working at the tea shop with uncle so much, he can just become lee forever.

lee wakes up in ba sing se, alone. his uncle is gone. the city has been taken over by the fire nation. his memories are a blur- he and his uncle went to the earth palace to serve the earth king tea, and then... he can't really remember what happened next.

the fire nation princess wants him to serve her tea. he can feel her eyes on him the entire time he does. she's smiling, but he doesn't like that smile. her other two friends just watch him with looks that verge on pity- but only when the princess isn't looking. part of him feels grateful when they leave for the fire nation. the other part of him just feels... angry?

lee doesn't know where to go, so he goes back to the jasmine dragon. he finds out jin has been looking for him. she asks where his uncle is. he just shakes his head and says he doesn't know. he went missing. she invites him to come stay with her family... but he turns her down. he finds a job at another tea shop. it's all he knows. he's not good for anything else.

princess azula left behind standing orders with the dai li to make sure to keep up her brother's brainwashing. he's stubborn, so if you're not careful, he'll start to realize things he shouldn't. it's why she does not bring him home to the fire nation, as amusing as the idea of having him paraded before the court as a servant is.

the dai li visit lee once every week. it is the same agent every time. they have brainwashed many in their time, but the prince of the fire nation is their masterpiece. he crafts an entire new life for him. lee is drowning in a sea of lies and he doesn't even know it.

iroh realizes something is *very* wrong when he hears nothing of zuko upon arriving in the fire nation. when he breaks out of prison, he discovers that zuko never returned with his sister- and feels fear in his heart. but with the failure of the invasion, someone must teach the avatar firebending... and it cannot be jeong-jeong. iroh asks the white lotus to search for zuko in his place.

it's katara who finds him by accident, after the war is over. she decides to take a break at a tea shop. she looks up at her server- and sees a ghost. a ghost that doesn't recognize her, not even a little- and with a sinking horror, katara realizes exactly what must have happened.

she can't even be angry at him for his betrayal. not when all it earned him was this.

(lee was born and raised in ba sing se. he has no uncle, but he has his father. he is an agent of the dai li, and lee could not be more proud of him. he got his scar in the accident that killed his mother. a tragic fire. an accident. he's been afraid of it ever since.

lee lacks talent. he knows this, but he has found a simple happiness in the one thing he is good at- serving tea. he chats with the customers. he remembers the orders of all his regulars. his life is simple, but he is happy. he has never once thought of leaving ba sing se. why would he? his entire life is here. he has his father. his job. his girlfriend jin. he doesn't need anything else.

...he would like this strange water tribe girl to stop talking to him now. he hides in the kitchen. the owner kicks her out for hassling his best tea server.

lee has been kidnapped. these people keep calling him zuko. he has no idea who that is. they take him to the fire nation. he needs to get far, far away from ba sing se, they say. somewhere more familiar. lee doesn't know what they're talking about. he wants to go home.)

#oh zuko. you don't know how absolutely fucked up you are.#but you are. you are so fucked up.#and yet ironically you're probably the happiest you've been in a *long* time #but if you're not you... can you really call it happiness?#lee from the tea shop

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crimewavezx · 3 years ago

Text

pairing: Dano!riddler × reader.

a/n: It's gonna get spicy soon I promise :>

Cw: obsessive thoughts

words: 2.2k

Ao3

Chapter 1

<?>

Chapter 2: Coffee

You stare at the machine. It's old, should be thrown out. You've already begged the owner but he is adamant it does the job. Sure, it spits out coffee when you throw some in, but it's too dark, burnt almost and has a strange plastic taste to it.

You've spent the last hour opening it up to clean the parts which you were sure hadn't been cleaned since it's conception. You made sure everything fit in it's place and you had been brewing pot after pot, sampling your work. But you still weren't satisfied.

The burnt taste still lingered and now you were sure you could taste the cleaner you used. You made it worse somehow.

You slump against the wall across the cleaner and look to it. Why couldn't it know you needed this job to work? That you needed good coffee? You needed to be friendly, to be cute, you needed the strange men coming in late at night to see you could your job.

You sigh. You cant afford anything else. Finding a job in gotham is impossible. Truly. If it's not mob work it's underpaid. If it's a livable wage your likely going to be mob work that isn't explicitly mob work. Their roots spread deep. You couldn't touch it. Wouldn't allow yourself to fall into that hole. You know what happens when you give yourself over to the life. The cost-- but oh god the money is good. So good. You knew that much.

You knew that if you just told yourself a lie to keep yourself happy you wouldn't have to worry about making rent, or what to eat for dinner. Life would be so easy, wouldn't it? You would just have to accept the price of looking away. The blood on your hands. Maybe it wasn't innocent blood. Maybe it didn't matter.

But this diner seemed innocuous enough. If it was mob work, well they only wanted coffee and you could do coffee. So you thought. Nobody seemed to complain about the last server so why should you care? Why do you care so much?

You can't help the anger which rises in you looking at the coffee maker. It's stubborn. Stubborn like you.

You pull the maker from the wall. You stare at it before chucking it across the kitchen. You can only hear the shattering of the coffee pot. It breaks apart into a million different little pieces.

Your hand finds your mouth. You can only look in horror at the glass all over the floor. You did that.

Joey the cook comes rushing into the kitchen. He looks to you then the late coffee maker. "What'd you do that for?" He yells.

You shake your head. "It didn't work"

He approaches you, "so you break it? Is that how this works? You gonna break the rest of the kitchen next? Look around you girl, nothing works like it should."

He walks over to the microwave and gives it a bang over the top. It lights up. "You gonna cause anymore problems?"

You look at him. The tears start well before you register them. God, it's just a coffee maker. Just stupid coffee. Just a stupid job in a stupid city.

"No, Joey. I won't. I'm sorry" you say.

Joey holds open his arms, as though offering a hug. You look at him. "Free hug" he says.

You hug him. He's warm. It feels better. He gives you a reassuring pat on the back, "don't be so hard on yourself, kid. There's a big electronics store down the road, why don't you go buy a replacement? And I'll tell the boss it really did crap out, and you saved the day." Joey breaks away from you and opens up his wallet. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill.

You gawk as he places it into your hand. "Make it a nice one," he says.

"Joey, I--" you start.

"Hush," he stops you. "The late night crowd will be coming soon, better hurry"

You nod and leave the diner. You knew what electronic store Joey talked about. It's a big warehouse full of electrinic junk, open all night. Shady business but you were in a desperate position now. You were so thankful he was being nice.

Joey is a big guy, real mob type. At first he intimated you as he seldom said a word to you. But he was never rude or cross, he was always very forgiving on your mistakes when you first stated. You were so thankful he wasn't really mad. You would have to find a good way to thank him.

It's getting dark now as you approach the store. In Gotham the dark is invasive. Seeming to eat away at everything. Luckily a single street lamp broke the dark and you found the stores open door.

You enter cautiously. A man's voice greets you. "Welcome, what can I help you with?" You look to a counter along the wall beside you and see a man perched on a stool.

"I'm just looking for a coffee machine," he stands and silently begins walking further into the warehouse. It's dimly lit, the overhead lights were just bulbs attached to long wires.

You don't recognize half the junk you pass. You try not too pay too much attention to what you were looking at, too scared you would see something you shouldn't see at all.

You notice how everything seems winding. Like the store is built to pull you in further, deeper into its belly. You shudder.

Finally he veers right into a narrow aisle Where coffee makers line the shelves. Some were in boxes, some not, but there is a lot to choose from. "I'll be up front when your done" the man leaves you.

You curse a little to yourself as you're sure you'll get lost without him to guide you back to the front.

You look at the wall of coffee makers. You try looking for the same model you have, but it's difficult to make out everything at once. It's so dark in here.

In your frustration you just grab the first box which looked unopened. Better chances it would actually work that way.

You start your attempt at making your way back to what you thought is the front of the store. You think of the turns the man made but it's hard to recall with everything being so dim. You soon realize you are just heading further into the massive maze of a warehouse. It just keeps winding and winding, no marker or indicator to anything at all. Just aisles of electronic junk.

You start to panic. You really shouldn't be here. You don't belong here in what is very likely a criminal's fantasy. You just need a stupid coffee pot because you were stupid and broke the other. And now you were running out of time. It's getting close to your shift starting and you weren't going to be able to find your way out of this godforsaken warehouse.

As you start to truly panic, you look to your right and see a man peeking around an aisle further down. You couldn't make him out clearly as he quickly moves back when you spot him.

"Hey!" You cry and move towards him. It's a really dumb idea to approach a strange man in a shady store, but you'd be damned if you remain lost in here.

"Hey!" You call again. You get to the aisle and see, to your suprise, Edward attempting to hide around another corner. But you've already seen him. You smile at him.

He shuffles nervously in place and quietly murmurs a hello. You see him move to leave but he stops. In his hands he holds a strange box, with wires poking out along the tops and sides. It looks strangely hostile in his hands. He sees you looking and moves to hold the box to his side.

You swallow down your anxiety, "Edward, oh its so great to see a familair face. I really hate to bother you but I'm lost in here."

Edward smiles a little, but still looks on edge, "Yeah, it's easy to get lost" Is all he says. He doesn't move.

"Do you know how to get out?" You ask.

He blinks, as though not realizing you were asking him to show you out. He hesitates, fidgeting with the strange box. "Right. Okay. I'll walk you out." He slips the box into his jacket pocket. You don't question it.

As you walk behind him you are eager to talk to him again. After he left last night you keep wondering whether you really did bother him. You think quickly of something to say.

"Do you come here often?" You ask.

You see his head shake, followed by a short snort. "That's a familair question," he remarks, sounding amused.

You laugh, "well I don't know what to say. This place freaks me out."

"it's probably good that it does." He says. Your silent. He's right.

You were at the front now. Edward turns to you with a sheepish look. You expect him to say something but he only looks down.

The man at the counter speaks first, "find one?"

You are still looking at Edward. "I think so."

You pay with the cash Joey gave you and leave quickly with Edward at your side.

You look at Edward with confusion as he starts to walk with you in the direction of the diner. "You're going to walk with me?"

He gazes up at the sky. It's truly dark now. "It's late isn't? For you to be out alone. Gotham is a bad place."

You nod. "Yeah, guess so. Thanks. And thanks for getting me out of there. Really thought I was going to be stuck for a moment."

He is silent. You walk like this for a while. Just in silence with one another. It feels nice to just be with him like this. He's being friendly. Which suprises you. You think to ask him about last night but he speaks first.

"What happened to the other one?" He gestures towards the box in your hands.

You laugh, "I broke the other one. It didn't work. But hey, hopefully your coffee should be drinkable tonight."

"It was fine last night." There's that word again. Fine. You sigh.

"Did I bother you yesterday?"

It's really hard for him to pretend like he isn't just so excited to be here. Walking next to you. He can feel your body so close to him. He swallows. "No, you didn't bother me." It bothers him that he likes you so bad. That he can't say. Can't say it to you.

You face him. "Oh. Well you just left in a hurry. I didn't make any more pie tonight cause I thought you didn't like it."

He laughs. Like a real, genuine laugh. It suprises you. You laugh in return.

"Just frozen tonight then, huh?"

"Just frozen."

"Bummer." But he sounds amused. He's still smiling when you enter the diner together. He takes his seat at the counter and props his head up onto his hands.

You smile at him. He looks really cute. It's almost too much. "Don't get too excited. I still have to setup this bad boy."

"Take your time." He watches you move into the kitchen. Joey had ready swept up the glass and cleared a spot on the table for you. You feel a little nervous working with Edward watching you. He seems more...amiable tonight. More lively, you suppose. You keep casting him looks to affirm he still watchs you. His eyes barely move away.

You half expect him to pull out his journal but he doesn't. No, no, he's too enraptured by you. He really adores how often you are nice to him when you really shouldn't be at all. So nice. You are so nice.

It'll be too cruel when the time comes. When he's taken away from you. Or when you're taken from him. You'll see the truth and that will end it all.

Everything will change. You'll change. How nice will you be then? Will you still smile? Will the horror of having known him hurt you? Will you no longer want to be nice to the quiet ones? Will you be distrustful? It feels good to have an impact. Even then, Even then.

Setting up the coffee maker is easy. It's a newer model, so it has fewer levers and cranks. Just buttons for your ease and enjoyment.

It chimes with a gentle tone as it finishes making the last of the pot. The color is a healthy brown and the smell! God the smell is actually like that of coffee, just as warm and inviting as you'd ever known.

You are eager to pour Edward a cup. He seems just as eager to enjoy it.

With a grin you place the cup in front of him. "Edward, It is done." The steam rolls off the cup in gentle waves. You swell with pride.

"Finally!" He cries. He goes to grab the mug but you stop him.

"Careful! It's hot. You have to wait."

"I have to enjoy it with my eyes for now?" He giggles.

"Yes, just that."

He smiles at you. "Can do."

<?>

#dano!riddler #paul dano #the riddler #the batman #2022 #the riddler x reader #angels die #chapter 2 #my writing #dano!riddler x reader #riddler x reader #batman #fic #fanfiction #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader

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unfoundhoney · 4 years ago

Text

mom’s mushroom stew ↠

↠ sapnap x fem!reader , dream x sister!reader ; fluff ; requested

↠ masterlist

You built your home deep in the forest, away from the majority of the rest of the residents of the SMP. You’ve found keeping away from the rest of the server and- more prominently- remaining out of the conflicts that go on amongst them all has led you to a more peaceful life.

You keep to yourself, though that’s not to say you can’t defend yourself when need be; there have been several instances where you have been targeted as a result of your brother’s actions. Your days consist of mining and reading, though mostly you tend to your garden. Your cottage itself is quite small but your garden extends behind your home for quite a ways, giving you plenty to keep yourself busy with.

Unless you’re mistaken, most server members don’t even know where you live. It’s not often someone other than your brother (who has a habit of checking on you more times than necessary) finds their way to your cottage. However, one person has begun to visit you frequently.

“Y/N!”

Sapnap’s call of your name is loud but not startling; you’d carefully been watching his approach as he walked along your paved garden path.

“Y/N? Where’d you go?”

Sat on your knees and effectively hidden among your flowering lilacs, you don’t show yourself even as Sapnap passes right by you. After eating lunch together, you’d gone out to the garden ahead of him as he used the restroom, giving you enough time to hide. He continues his search through your garden, unsuspecting as you sneak out from within your flowers and sneak up behind him.

“Y/N...? Is she not here?” he wonders aloud to himself.

You clap your hands on his shoulders, “BOO!”

Sapnap shrieks and spins around, shoving your hands off him and reaching for his sword. He relaxes immediately upon seeing you, who is now bent over in laughter.

“You little- come here!”

Sapnap reaches for you but you dodge his hands, dashing away further into your garden. Sapnap chases after you, faux anger offset by his laughter. He catches you, pulling you to a stop and into himself, bringing you both falling to the ground. You lay in the grass just laughing for several moments.

You roll to your side and support yourself above Sapnap.

He laughs, grinning brightly up at you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say back.

“You’re a sneaky little thing, you know that?” His words hold no hint of malice as he cups your face.

You lean into his touch, “Hm, you bring it upon yourself.”

“Are you victim-blaming me?”

“Shut up.”

You both laugh and he tugs you down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s almost impossibly picturesque: laying in a garden and kissing your secret lover. You tilt your head to the side, slotting your lips together. Just as Sapnap’s hands have found your waist- no doubt planning to flip you onto your back- a third and heart stoppingly familiar voice calls out and shatters your sweet moment.

“N/N!”

You pull away from Sapnap immediately, eyes wide, “Dream.”

Below you, your boyfriend looks absolutely terrified. As much trouble as it causes being the owner of the server’s younger sister, Dream and you are close. You are someone who he can always rely on to talk sense. It’s almost comforting how you will refuse to take his side in conflict if you disagree with him despite being siblings; he can trust you to be honest with him.

Dream has always been protective of you. From the moment your parents found you and took you in as an infant, he has been your self-appointed bodyguard, so to speak. While this was endearing as children and handy later on in life when the occasional man would have too much gall around you, it has become something of nuisance upon your entering a relationship with one of his best friends. Friends who had been told you are “off-limits.”

“Stay,” you tell Sapnap, who nods without a thought of argument.

You jump to your feet quickly. Luckily, you and Sapnap had been sheltered by the lilacs that you had hidden in minutes before. As you call out to your brother and make your way over to him, Sapnap remains out of sight in the grass behind the flower bushes.

“Hey, Dream,” you greet him with a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just stopping by to see my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister.”

“And therefore my favorite.”

You laugh, “Sure.”

“Anyway, I was hoping to have dinner together and catch up but I see you already have company.”

Your heart stops, “Company?”

“Sapnap’s horse is tied to your fence out front.”

Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap-

You speak a little louder than necessary, “Oh, right! Yeah, Sapnap dropped by. He just went to go get mushrooms for the stew I’m making later. You know how he likes mom’s old recipe, so I told him if he gathered the mushrooms I would send him off with some.”

“Okay...”

Dream seems suspicious but you can only hope it’s because of his protective nature and not knowledge of your relationship. His eyes are looking out towards where you had popped up from.

“You wanna come inside? I was just checking on my lilacs,” you lie smoothly, walking towards the back entrance of your house and hoping to take his attention with you.

He, thankfully, follows after you, “You’re making mom’s stew?”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling a little nostalgic lately.”

Your conversation with your brother flows easily like it always does when you two meet up after a while apart. As you prepare the rest of the stew, Dream rants to you about Tommy’s latest misadventure and you tell him that your recently-planted alliums sprouted, replacing the ones that you gave Niki for her flower shop. It’s about half an hour later that there’s a knock on your back door.

“Can you get that?” you ask your brother, “It must be Sap back from mushroom hunting.”

There’s a brief pause.

“Sap? Since when do you use nicknames with Sapnap?”

You bury your panic with a roll of your eyes, “Come on, Dream. I’ve known Sapnap and George as long as you have; it’s hardly a crime to call them by a nickname.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dream says, unconvinced.

He goes to open the back door and you turn to face the pot of ingredients cooking on the stove, releasing a long breath to try and calm yourself.

It’s fine. You’re fine. He doesn’t know. Just be cordial to Sapnap, not overly friendly. Don’t raise suspicion. Be cool be cool be cool.

“Oh, hey, Dream!” you hear Sapnap greet his friend, “What are you doing here?”

When you turn, you’re incredibly relieved to find Sapnap carrying a sizable amount of mushrooms wrapped in a handkerchief. Thank god he picked up on your plan from the garden earlier.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Dream says, arms crossed over his chest.

You can see the barely contained fear on Sapnap’s face.

“Dream,” you say firmly, “I’m an adult woman. I’m allowed to be friends with whoever I want to.”

Your brother turns to face you, “But not with-“

“You don’t get to decide who I’m friends with.”

“But-“

“No buts.”

Dream obviously wants to argue further but for once, he heeds your wishes and lets his shoulders drop in defeat. The wave of relief that washes over your body is unimaginable. Sure, you may not be just friends with Sapnap, but getting Dream to understand that you are your own person and don’t need protecting anymore is an uphill battle; you’ll have to take it one step at a time.

“Come here, Sapnap,” you call. “Everything else it ready, it’ll just have to cook for a while with the mushrooms.”

“I’m watching you,” Dream says threateningly as Sapnap passes by him.

“Stop it.”

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (February 26/2021) - ...What?

DreamXD helped George build a McDonald’s, Quackity’s double joined, Jack and Andrea went on a date with Sam and Foolish joining in as wingmen, Andrea was lured to the Egg, Wilbur (non-canonically) had a heart attack during a horse/footrace and died...

Just an average day in the Dream SMP, I suppose?

---

VOD LINKS:

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

Georgenotfound

Jack Manifold

[Andrea’s VOD was deleted due to leaked info, nothing to worry about though!]

---

- Puffy and Foolish work on their fast food restaurant

- After attempting to solve the mystery behind why George was banned on TikTok, Quackity decides that George should build a McDonald’s in Minecraft.

- DreamXD, the god of the server himself, appears to help them. As the owner of the land, he suggests that they renovate the Deal or No Deal house into a McDonalds. He happens to have some very convenient stacks of supplies.

- They burn down the old house and begin to build. Wendy’s replies on Twitter and Dream ratios them.

- Quackity starts chasing George so he calls for Dream’s help and DreamXD attacks him as Quackity repents for his sins. Quackity logs out and DreamXD builds a pit and they fill it with lava.

- George shouts for Quackity to log in while dramatic music plays.

Quackity: “Then so be it. So be it! I don’t care! So be it, George! If this is the destiny that I have to face, then I’ll face it with honor, George!”

- He’s known it all along...Quackity is the one who got him banned. Quackity’s the one who got them all banned! Quackity begins to chuckle. George finally put together the pieces.

Quackity: “You have no idea how much power I have, George...and guess what, I have no issues doing it over, and over, and over again.”

- Quackity decides that he’s not going to log in so that he won’t give George the satisfaction of watching him die. DreamXD types a suggestion to ban Quackity in chat.

George: “I have Dream on my side! DreamXD, he is the god of the Dream SMP server! He will RUIN you! He will delete you from the lore!”

Quackity: “DreamXD...you think gods scare me, George? Gods don’t scare me, George, they don’t.”

- Bad falls into the pit and has to get out.

George: “He’s quacked!”

Quackity: “I’m gonna walk out the door with honor, George, and I’m never giving you the satisfaction of watching me die.”

- Suddenly, DreamXD hits George into the pit of fire, revealing that he’s been with Wendy’s this entire time! George perishes in the fire as Quackity taunts him.

Quackity: “LOOK AT YOU! Look at you fall into despair and death, thinking you’re one step above, but you have no one on your side, George. Nobody...nobody is on your side. Nobody has ever been on your side, George. That’s the funny part! That’s the funny part. Your little moments, your little moments where you think you have any sort of power...they’re just amusing, George. They’re so amusing to me. Have you realized it yet? Have you realized how you hold no power, ever, at all? Take this to the grave, George...you’re nobody.”

- DreamXD tells Quackity it’s clear to log on, but Quackity still doesn’t die. DreamXD then says that it was all an attempt to trick Quackity into logging in and calls for George to log back on.

DreamXD: “I was never with him, George...I’ve been by your side since the beginning, George...I promise.”

- They walk back to McDonald’s. DreamXD assures George that Quackity will pay for this. He murders Bad to cheer George up. DreamXD also makes George a server operator for a short moment.

- George runs back, shouting at Quackity to log in. Quackity replies that as long as he’s outside of George’s realm, they have no power over him. The instant he logs in, they have control. He won’t give them that satisfaction.

- George threatens to canonically ban Quackity for eternity. Bad warns him of the mark this might make on his soul. George presses enter...and it doesn’t work.

Quackity: (laughing) “George...you really thought you had the power! You really thought you could do anything to me! George, you can’t! You can’t do anything to me! Not now, not ever, not as long as I live, George.”

“Long live Quackity, George...I never die.”

- Quackity announces that he will be building a salad store right across the street from George’s store, and there’s nothing George can do about it!

- quackitynumber2 joins the game. George tells him that if he sacrifices himself to the lava, he’ll forgive him. Quackitynumber2 does just that. They rescue real Quackity from the lava.

- DreamXD takes George to the Oogway Shrine to “pray.”

- Sapnap comes on, very confused. They continue to ratio Wendy’s.

- Jack preps for his date. Foolish gives him a pep talk, then Wilbur briefly joins to ask if Andrea’s there yet. Antfrost arrives in a maid outfit.

- Andrea eventually comes onto the server. She dies once and Sam declares it canon. Sam gives Jack gifts for the date at Spawn.

- Jack and Andrea ride around in a boat a bit. The date continues as Antfrost and Sam work as diligent wingmen.

- Sam turns Jack into the waterman and shouts about Dreamons as he attacks. Jack runs away and waits for the invisibility to wear off while Sam, Punz and the others show Andrea Egg propaganda.

- Sam says they can see the Egg soon! Punz remarks that the Egg is nice. Jack freaks out when he hears about this and runs over, eager to stop Andrea from being mind-controlled.

- Jack makes it to Puffy’s McDonald’s and reunites with Andrea.

- They continue to walk around, near the Eggpire meeting room. Sam greets them there, leads the two into the egg building and tells Andrea to stand in the center. Jack and Andrea jump down into the Egg Room.

Sam: Break it Andrea. Save the server. Do it.

- Jack warns her against breaking the blocks. Andrea jumps down from the Egg and looks at it.

Sam: DO YOU WANT TO BE A HERO??

Andrea: SIR

Andrea: MR AWESOME DUDE

Sam: Yes?

Andrea: HAVE YOU EVER SEEN AN EGG

Andrea: THAT IS NOT AN EGG

- She says this reminds her of health education classes. A fun way to teach people about the reproductive system. Sam tells her to break the Egg again.

- Sam tells her they need to break the Egg to leave, but Andrea dies by lava instead. Jack warns her that she only has one canon life left.

- Jack struggles to swim back up to the surface through the chute. Sam tells Andrea that he doesn’t see her surviving the night.

- Jack makes it to the surface and tries to get back to Andrea. Meanwhile, Sam tells Andrea that he’s way richer than Jack is.

- Jack meets Andrea and Sam at Lemon City. Sam gets Andrea a horse. They decide to do a race. Andrea proposes that they sacrifice the loser. Foolish accuses Sam of cheating on Ponk.

- Ponk comes online.

Jack: Hi Fonk

Sam: LETS RACE

Ponk: Shut up home wrecker

WilburSoot joined the game.

- They make a call for all the racers. Wilbur joins and asks Jack for a few words in private.

- Once alone, Wilbur urges Jack to get out of there. This is not going well, he says. Jack insists that everything’s going fine! Wilbur tells Jack that Andrea asked him to serenade her.

- Jack points out that Wilbur did this last time. Wilbur tells him that was just him being a silly quirky goofster. This is him being real.Wilbur tells Jack to trust him.

Wilbur: “I have a plan...basically, you’re doing a race, right? What’s the worst thing that can happen during a race, you may be asking? I’ll tell you what:

“Wilbur Soot has a heart attack and dies.”

- The plan goes as follows: they start the race, Wilbur has a heart attack and dies, and in his last dying breath, he asks Andrea to tell the truth.

- The two rejoin the call with the plan in mind and meet at the Community House with Sam to begin the race.

Wilbur: “I sure hope my arteries will hold up!”

- The race begins! Jack, Andrea and Sam all start running, Andrea still on horseback. Wilbur calls out that his chest is hurting and Jack turns around to run back to him.

- With his last dying breath, Wilbur says to Andrea that she should tell Jack what she said to Wilbur. He then dies before they can perform CPR. Sam points out that Wilbur Soot is not the type to waste his last words. Andrea replies that they were going to sacrifice him anyway.

- Jack has the messages from Wilbur.

Sam: “Can you read those to us please? I wanna imagine that he wrote them about me.”

Jack: “Okay, he said -- you’re gonna struggle, it has my name in it.”

Sam: “Well, just, when you read your name, just say ‘Sam’ instead.

Jack: “Okay, he says, ‘I want to date Sam. That sounds fucking brilliant.’”

Sam: “Wilbur said that about me?! Oh my god, I have chills. I literally have chills right now. I got ghost bumpies.”

- Andrea asks what’s going on between Jack and Wilbur, and questions whether Jack is really in love with her. She decides to run away.

- Sam shows her the prison he built and brags that he’s the warden. Andrea’s horse explodes. Sam asks if they should lock Jack up, and Andrea says they should.

- After Andrea sings “My Humps,” Sam rapidly comes to the conclusion that he no longer wants anything to do with this date.

- Jack and Andrea’s date continues as he leads her to the restaurant he made.

- Afterwards, they go back to the mainland and Andrea sees L’manhole. Jack explains that this is where L’manberg was destroyed, and he fell into Hell. Andrea remarks that there used to be a sign here that said “I <3 Andrea” that now says “You </3 Little Penis” instead.

- They sail out into the ocean together.

- Afterwards, Jack brings her to Foolish’s Temple of Undying. Jack says he’ll see her on their next date, if he’s still alive by then.

- Andrea leaves, and Sam speaks with Jack alone.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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stellocchia · 4 years ago

Text

Alright, now that I got some sleep, time for an overly long analysis on Tommy’s second prison visit!

I’m only talking about character in the rp from here on out, not the cc’s unless explicitly stating otherwise

First of all, a clarification is in order: was it Dream’s plan from the very start to get put in prison to end up in this situation? No. Does this mean he couldn’t have caused this to turn things in his favour? Also no.

Dream has proven before that he’s a rather flexible character (kinda has to be with a nemesis like Tommy), he’s been put multiple times in unexpected situations and managed to come out of top. We don’t know if he expected L’Manburg to be reborn after the 16th, and yet he managed to have the whole cabinet wrapped around his fingers. He didn’t expect Tommy to threaten him with Spirit, and yet he spun it around on him. We also know he didn’t expect Tommy to leave Logsteshire (he was talking about it with Punz, it’s the reason he went to check on him shortly after because he realized he may have stepped too far and broken Tommy out of his manipulation there) which offered him the opportunity to frame him for the community house disaster later on.

He is nothing if not resorceful.

Another thing we have to discuss when talking about the visit is the themes of their relationship:

- Dream’s possessiveness/obsession

- The whole Dream finding Tommy “fun”

- Their “game”

More under the cut

- For the first point, when I say “possessivness” I mean that Dream literally regards himself almost as Tommy’s owner. Don’t believe me? Let’s talk about how he treats Tommy’s canon life then!

Remember all the way back during exile? To keep Tommy in line Dream consistently threatened to take his last life, implying that he would have been fine with Tommy dying, yet, as soon as Tommy showed signs of wanting to take his own life, Dream bust out the line “it’s not your time to die yet”, 2 times in fact. Why? Well, Dream wants control in all things, not only that, but he clearly thinks he’s in the right in wanting it. Of course the life of his favourite toy is no exception. Also let’s not forget about the terrifying scene on top of the obsidian grid where, when Tommy said that their story would be over soon, Dream immediately took control again assuring him it would never be over.

There is also Tommy explicitly stating that Dream was “borderline his owner”, in case we needed an additional affirmation, in the stream where Mexican Dream made an appearance in exile.

Also, I have to mention that during the first Prison visit Dream, when talking about what he missed, grouped Tommy together with “his stuff”... can’t get much clearer then that

- Dream’s describing Tommy as “Fun” has been a reoccurring creepy theme between them. But is it soley done out of manipulation or does Dream actually feel that way in his twisted world view? I’d say a bit of both to be honest.

Clearly there is a level of gaslighting with it were he used to say it at the very start of Tommy’s exile to get him in the frame of mind of considering Dream his friend and trying to convince him that they always had fun together (trying to get him to switch his anger from being directed at Dream to being directed at his old friends), but that’s not all.

Dream, in cutting all his known attachments, is left with only Tommy as an attachment, Jack is right on that one, which is the rason why his obsession seems so extreme. That said, it’s pretty obvious that he does sort of find his relationship with Tommy “fun”. It’s the reson why literally everyone else is a replaceable pawn, but Tommy isn’t. Don’t get me wrong here: he doesn’t see him as a human and, despite him “caring” in his twisted way, there is NOTHING healthy about their relationship. But it is still important to point out that Tommy is extremely important to Dream.

- Their game is something we’re all well aware of. They are regarded by so many people as the hero and the villain of the server, even though neither of them accepts their assigned role. That said they both view the other in the role assigned to them. Dream doesn’t see himself as a villain, but he does see Tommy as a hero and vice-versa. And, just like that, the stage for their “game” is set.

Only problem? Only one of them is playing the game. We know this from the season 2 finale: the reason Dream kept coming down and trusting Tommy was because he thought Tommy was as attached to their “game” as he was, but he was wrong. Tommy HAS other attachments, plenty of them, he’s not dependent on Dream and that’s also probably why Dream is so obsessed with him in the first place: everyone else is predictable, easy to use. They aren’t surprising, they aren’t “fun” (remember that? Remember Dream goning “Tubbo isn’t fun” when Tommy said he had as much value as himself? Because I sure do) they are boring pawns.

You’d think he may think differently of someone like Techno but, despite him acknowledging his strenght, he has no reason to think he won’t be able to use him every time at the smallest promise of violence as it worked every time before. George and Sapnap? When’s the last time Dream showed them he cared in any way? He used them time and time again and then left them behind when the relationships required work on his side to mantain. He didn’t even speak to Sapnap during his visit! He regards Quackity as barely an annoyance (remember what history left on him in the Lost City of Mizu? Just a Fool). Punz and Sam were both people he paid, only means to an end. They ALL played his game and followed his rules, which is what made them predictable. It's what makes them so replaceable.

Now that the themes are established, let’s move on to the analysis of the visit itself!

First of all: big foreshadowing from Sam with the missing books (which Tommy admitted to not remembering the content of) and from Tommy saying how much he trusted and appreciated Sam. It doesn’t have much to do with the analysis, but we all pointed it out.

That said, what was Tommy’s objective with this visit? Closure. Tommy wanted to make their game finally stop for good, he wanted to reclaim the control over his life that he hasn’t had for a while now. Not over his literal last life nor over hid day to day life. Both used to be controlled by Dream.

Dream “loosing” his clock is the first information we learn. But, remember during Bad’s visit when Bad convinced Sam to give Dream one last chance to get his clock back if he behaved? And then again with Sapnap? Dream wanted the clock to go, that’s why he kept burning it despite the warnings. Why? Could it be that he was planning to get someone to stay with him in there? Isolation affects you much harder when you’re not aware of the passage of time after all...

“That’s the Tommy I know!” from the start of the visit Dream is trying to re-establish their “bond” and get Tommy in the mindset of them being “friends” again. I mean, it’s not a coincidence that he’s never been this talkative or friendly in any of the visits from other people.

Other point in favour of Dream having planned this long stay is the sheer number of potatoes he had stored. Also, may I add that he immediately started giving them to Tommy? He started before the tnt and explosions, before he should have known Tommy was gonna stay. He never did this before during any of the visits we’ve seen. Establishing his role as provider again like back in exile I see...

Dream also started immediately demanding for Tommy to visit him more, but Tommy does turn it down just as quickly by explaining that that would be the last visit (if Dream wasn’t planning to act this time, he changed his mind in this moment. He’s very adaptable remember? And his main accomplice was online...). Of course, Dream isn’t happy about it.

We already established that Tommy is the only one he finds “fun” (as far as we know), having him stopping visitations entirely wouldn’t be good for Dream. There is also the fact that Tommy is deciding to move on on his own. It’s Tommy’s choice under Tommy’s complete control and Dream has already shown he’s not too kin on that being a thing.

“Anything you want to say to me now, you have to say to me now, because I’m not visiting you again” “Why?” I’m highlighting this piece of dialogue because I think it’s pretty indicative of Dream still being convinced that they’re both still playing the game. Sure, Tommy outplayed him for now, but the game is not over, is it? Tommy can’t just decide to drop him can he? They both have so much “fun” after all...

Of course though, to Tommy the “why” should be obvious. Because of Dream he’s struggling with severe ptsd. He’s afraid of plains biomes, of lava, of heights to a certain degree, of black stone (both because of the Attachments vault and the Final Control Room on this one), of tnt, of small holes (big enough to drop your items in as he said), of giving up his stuff and of Dream acting Friendly. Dream hurt him a great deal to the point were he’s not managing to settle down even now, he’s still afraid. How can Dream not see how he hurt him? How can he not understand? In Tommy's mind it just doesn't make sense.

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES (had to add this because it was just funny... why are there always bloopers with this 2?)

Potatoes again. Again the tnt had not started to go off yet. And Tommy eats them again immediately, of course. I can’t stress this enough, but this is done again to re-establish the dependency tommy had on Drem during exile. While he didn’t entirely depend on dream for food (he barely ate and he had Mushroom Henry), he used to be entirely dependent on him for protection, getting to the point where he would hardly defend himself from the mobs when they attacked him even when Dream wasn't around. Of course Dream can’t provide “safety” while he’s in prison, so he has to find something else.

“You had all this shit coming” “I did but... you know... maybe one day” “No! Have you seen this prison? It’s kind of the most secure thing ever” They are talking about two different things here. Dream is implying that, maybe, they’ll let him out in the future while Tommy, having already decided to move on and not worry about Dream anymore, is implying that the only way Dream is getting out is if he manages to escape, which he won’t. Quite different from the first visit were Tommy showed quite a bit of hesitance when asked if he would ever let Dream out.

“Unless you have extreme therapy” Tommy recognizing the importance of therapy I see! No, but, more importantly, this goes to show that Tommy is moving on from his exclusively vengful mindset he had at the start (which was more then understandable, btw). At the start of this visit he said he didn’t think that Dream deserved to die anymore and now he’s recognizing that he needs help, Tommy however also knows he’s not the one who should be helping him, he can’t. Still, he’s empathizing with him, because he can’t help doing so. Despite everything, Tommy always tends to see others as their own individuals, even when the same is often not true in reverse.

“I mean exile wasn’t that bad... right? I mean, we hung out” again, tying it back to the themes in their relationship, this fits so well. Of course exile wasn’t that bad, right? After all: why would Tommy have needed anyone else when he had his Best Pal Dream? And here’s the thing: we can’t know how much of what Dream says is just manipulation and how much of it he believes, but Dream has shown enough signs of being dependent on Tommy as his only attachment that we can assume there is, at the very least, some level of truth in this. I mean, if you remember back when he blew up Logstedshire, he didn’t even wanna believe that Tommy was suicidal. Tommy told him directly, but was dismissed. Why? Not because Dream wasn’t extremely opposed to him taking his own life, he’d already shown that not to be the case. Perhaps because he actually didn’t think it was that bad? Maybe he didn't want to admit he pushed him too far? Did he actually view himself and Tommy to be Dream’s own twisted version of “friends”? It’s a possibility and it’s what this visit seems to imply.

“When I’m around you I feel like my brain is conditioned to be your friend, but also when I have a knife I wanna just plunge it into your heart... you don’t make me a good person!” This seems to be a rather recurrent theme with Tommy and the mentor figures in his life. Wilbur trying to convince him (albeit not managing to) to just blow it all up and give in to his aggressive nature. Techno wanting to “bring him to the side of evil” and making him more violent in the process. Now we have confirmation that Dream himself makes him lash out more (though we could see this already when he was in exile in how he lashed out at Jack Manifold without the latter having done anything to deserve it). There is also the confusion to point out. While Tommy is trying to move on he’s clearly in no way “healed”, he’s still very much suffering from the consequences of Dream’s abuse and manipulation. He still doesn’t know exactly how to feel about him because, despite everything, he feels compelled not to hate him entirely.

“You’re a bad guy” “Well I did bad things, but everyone thinks they’re right from their perspective” “That’s not true” I haven’t seen almost anyone talk about this exchange, but it’s such an important one! As we said, Tommy views Dream as a villain, Dream doesn’t (he admits to having done bad things, but not to being bad because of them). Dream also sees Tommy as a hero, but Tommy doesn’t (Tommy doesn’t even view himself as “the good guy” in his own story, which ties in to his big self worth problems). It’s an interesting dynamic to be sure.

“Well I think I’m right. I did bad things, but I did them for good reasons” “What good reasons?” “I wanted to bring the server together you know? Make it a big happy family” This is the second time Dream brings up unity as his ultimate goal (the first being with Punz). Of course we know that the “unity” he wants it’s under his complete control. It’s not an objective that we can see as positive, but he does, or, at least, if he’s telling the truth about it, he may actually believe in it. Now, while this is the second time he brought up “unity” directly he did also strongly imply in the season 2 finale that that was his intention when explaining he was doing everything to get the server to “how it used to be”, back in the idealized past with no conflicts that never existed. Dream is deluded in the literal sense of the word, I would say it’s pretty probable there is at least some truth in his declared objective (truth in the form of him actually believing the bs he spews).

At this point Tommy is done. He’s drawing an end to the visit and Dream started getting more frantic. He started insisting on how he’s “changing” and insisting for Tommy to go visit him again. Ngl, I think this was probably to buy time for his accomplice (who is very possibly enderwalk!Ranboo) to get there. Because, if he let Tommy go, their game would truly be over, and Dream can’t stand that.

And cue the explosions!

So: Dream managed to buy enough time and, by the prison's protocols, Tommy is now stuck with him up to 7 days. He can’t leave which means Dream gets another chance to force him into continuing their game.

Quite a few people pointed it out, but, from this point onwards, Dream gets much more assertive and controlling in his demeanor. He drops the whole “insecure” act that he had going on in his enunciation and general behaviour and goes back to being like the old Dream (you would almost think that all that talk about “having changed” was just absolute bs, though he keeps insisting on it throughout)

Tommy’s behaviour also changes. He gets much more paniked (no doubt a combination of way too many of his triggers being present at once) and pliant. He starts calling out for Sam and asking to be let out but, of course, that doesn’t happen as Sam has to take care of the security breach first and foremost.

Dream starts immediately harping on Tommy being stuck there (probably to increase his panic, as he's easier to influence when he's distressed), first pointing out how “Sam can’t hear him” and then that the tnt must indicate a “security problem” (which he then explains he knows the consequences of because he wrote the book). By now he’s dropped his meek act entirely and he’s showing to be much more smug and self assured (a big contrast with Tommy having a very obvious panic attack). As we already said: he got what he wanted, he basically won already. All he needs to do now is get Tommy back to how he used to be in exile (”when they had fun” in Dream’s words...).

At this point there is only one question left to be answered: Why did he do all of this? How does this benefits dream?

Clearly this didn’t help him to get out. The security may actually increase because of it. Right? Well...

“I mean... if you want a way to get out, let’s get out together! We can work it out, we can-” “Fuck off” “Then there is no way out” I’m going out on a limb here and saying that, perhaps, Dream may know a way to get out provided 2 people cooperate on it. Tommy wouldn’t help him yet, but, who knows what he may do after spending way too much time locked in a small room, with a lava fall on the side and Dream to top off the list of his worst nightmares...

“Are you trying to get out?” “I’m not trying to get out, I’m not trying to get out!” a bit of a contradiction here, considering he proposed getting out together like 2 minutes before (coupled with his insistence on “one day...”)... however “I’m not trying to get out (yet)” may be a way to interpret his words more truthfully. If he just needed an accomplice to get out, he would have probably used Ranboo, but there is something else he wants as well...

(btw, potatoes AGAIN multiple times, especially every time Tommy is particularly distressed, and Dream also brings up Tommy being on his last canon life again in the context of this being “just like exile”... man do be trying hard with those parallels...)

You see, he already told us that he still sees his objective as good. He still wants control. He still wants his game to go on. And there is one person he elected to be the key to everything...

“I’m telling you you’re stuck in here for a little while with me, were we can bond, we can talk, just like old times, right? You know... just like exile” “Tommy this is the best thing that’s happened to me since I got in this prison, because now we can be company, we can stay together!” “Fine, fine, you’re done with me in a couple days, when you get out of here” “Tommy it’s not that bad! We can- we have lot’s of time to bond” Ngl... something tells me his other objective is very obvious... and we talked about it to death by now. But, in case it wasn't clear to someone, he wants to get back what (or who in his case) he considers to be his most cherished possession (again, do NOT interpret this as a "good" thing. It isn't. Dream literally treats Tommy as his toy, it isn't healthy and I've seen way too many people in chat trying to imply otherwise and calling it "cute". It's not cute, it's abuse)

“Tommy you’re stuck in here with me wether you like it or not, ok?! Wether you like it or not you’re in here with me for a WHILE, we’re gonna talk, we’re gonna have lot’s of fun” I just wanted to point out again how much Dream’s demeanor changed from the start now that he’s back in control. He’s not asking Tommy to talk to him, he’s not giving him a choice in it. Tommy already said how he doesn’t wanna talk and “get to know him better”, but that doesn’t matter. He has no power anymore. He doesn’t have the power to leave NOR the power to ignore Dream, as much as he wants to. Also, after this, Dream seriously ramps up the whole “We’re gonna have so much fun!” shtick...

And you want to know the saddest part of the ending? Tommy is already cracking (honestly, not surprising. He’s been through WAY too much by now...)

He started asking Dream for confirmation of whether all of this was “serious” (just like he needed to ask if things were real back in exile... or generally Dream’s opinion on everything). He also asked for more potatoes in a dejected tone (I know it may not seem that serious, but, as I said, it is just another way to create the dependency that Dream wants), showing a beginning of acceptance for Dream’s role as provider once again. Together with the very obvious “I can’t do this” and the black screen right after it creates a very worrying picture.

In conclusion: Dream is already dependant on Tommy, but the opposite not being true was a big part of his downfall. So, before he can get out, he has to work on getting Tommy back to exile!Tommy only this time he’ll be even more careful not to do some dumb mistake probably...

As anxious as I am to see how this will develop I do also think it’s one of the most interesting outcomes they could have had!

Also can we please take a moment to appreciate how WELL cc!Dream anc cc!Tommy manage to handle this incredibly serious scenes? Like, they bounce off of each other perfectly and, as someone who’s done theater themselves, I cannot commend them for managing to do so well in IMPROV enough!

They are honestly so great! Let’s get some serious love and appreciation for them to close on a positive note!

Also @mysweatymakerstudentworld

#tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #tw suicide #tw abuse #tw manipulation #exile arc #dream smp #Dream smp spoilers #long post #my post #analysis #relationship analysis #this is the sequel to rapunzel where she's stuck on the tower with mother goethel #I can't imagine it ending well...

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roseverdict · 3 years ago

Text

Two War Heroes and a Fellow Ex-Refugee Walk into a Tea Shop

yeahhh cranked this out in like two hours bay-BEE, that's the power of the brainrot!!!

anyway here's jin being the best when she figures out li from the tea shop is the fire lord now

AO3 link

Jin blinked in surprise.

There was activity in the Jasmine Dragon.

There hadn’t been anyone inside since before the fall of Ba Sing Se, and it almost seemed poetic that the Jasmine Dragon would come back to life when the rest of the city did, except Jin knew the owner and main server there, and neither had been seen or heard from since the fall.

And yet there was Mushi, humming to himself as he bustled about inside and prepared to open the doors.

Jin couldn’t help herself.

She peeked inside.

“Pardon, but the Jasmine Dragon is not yet open for business,” said Mushi kindly, not quite looking away from where he was adjusting part of the décor.

Jin smiled. “I’m not here for tea, though I wouldn’t turn it down. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

Mushi turned, and his face broke out into a wide grin. “Ah, Jin! It does this old man’s heart good to know you’re alright!”

“Same to you. When the city fell and you and Li were in the palace-!” Jin said, stepping all the way in and closing the door behind her.

“It was a difficult time for us all,” Mushi agreed, “but we came out of it better and wiser.”

Jin nodded, but before she could say something else, the ground shook from the force of a mob’s-worth of feet pounding the pavement outside. The shaking subsided as quickly as it had come, but Jin still scowled. “Five golds says those are some Fire Lord fangirls.”

Mushi’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“Yeah, apparently the new Fire Lord is coming to visit. Something about making reparations?” Jin explained, taking a seat at a nearby table. “I mean, good for him, it’s nice to know somebodyin the Fire Nation’s royal family isn’t a royal jerkwad in need of a psychiatrist, but I doubt he’ll wanna get mobbed by that crowd.”

Mushi smiled in that knowing way he tended to and turned back to the décor. “Not just the Fire Lord, but my nephew as well.”

Jin lit up. “Li’s coming, too?”

At that, Mushi’s knowing smile turned mischievous for a split second before he nodded. “Yes, he is. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that we came from a rather distant place before moving to Ba Sing Se. He’s been back at home now that the war is over, straightening out what was twisted in our absence, but I managed to convince him to take a break and come visit his uncle’s tea shop for the grand re-opening.”

“Still a workaholic, huh? That’s Li, alright,” Jin declared.

Something started tickling at the edges of her hearing, and Jin blinked. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” asked Mushi innocently.

Jin snorted and crossed her arms. “What game are you playing, you meddling old man?”

“Who, me?” Mushi deflected cheerfully. “I only play Pai Sho.”

The source of the noise either got closer or it got louder, because Jin could now identify it as the sound of screaming fangirls.

Actually, on second thought, they were probably getting closer.

“Oh, boy, here we go,” groaned Jin.

Then a boy dashed into the tea shop and slammed the doors shut behind him, pressing his back against them and peeking nervously out the windows. “Uncle, I thought you told me the city was safe!I put on my casual clothes and everything!”

Jin’s brain stopped working.

The boy in front of her was dressed in Fire Nation colors, his hair done up in a topknot and holding none other than the crown of the Fire Lord himself. His robes were made of elegant fabrics Jin rarely ever got to see, let alone up close, though they were disheveled as though caught and pulled in every possible direction.

He also had the same voice and face as…

“Li, what the fuck.”

The Spirits-damned Fire Lordwhipped his head around like a pig-deer in front of a carriage, his face turning bright red, and he honest-to-both-Oma-and-Shusqueaked, “Jin?”

Mushi (who definitely wasn’t actuallynamed Mushi) started chuckling, and Li the Fire Lordwhined, “Uncle-!”

The ground started shaking again, and Jin leapt to her feet. “Okay, explanation later! Li, get to the kitchen and stay out of sight! I’ve got this.”

Li gulped, but he nodded, and the moment Jin took his place barricading the doors, he scrambled to get out of sight.

Not a moment too soon, either, because the horde of people came to a stop just outside the tea shop.

Jin dusted herself off, stood a little straighter, and opened the door a crack with a too-sweet smile on her face. “Sorry, everyone. The Jasmine Dragon isn’t quite ready to open yet.”

The boy in front- and how had Jin not seen it coming, there were fangirls and fanboys and more, so why wouldn’tthey join forces?- cleared his throat. “Don’t lie. Everyone knows the old man who used to own this shop disappeared months ago. We saw the Fire Lord come in!”

Mushi came up behind her. “Jin, are these people troubling you?”

“I’m not quite sure, Mushi,” said Jin, relishing the looks of shock rippling out into the crowd as the man singlehandedly disproved any rumors about his demise. “They say they saw the Fire Lord, but you, me, and your nephew are the only ones in here right now. I haven’t seen anybody else come in.”

“Hm, interesting.” Mushi gave her shoulder a quick pat, then addressed the crowds. “Unfortunately, Jin and I have been setting up in here for quite some time. If neither of us saw him, then perhaps the Fire Lord dodged into a different building.”

The fanboy in front faltered a bit, and Jin offered him a wide, beaming grin. “Best of luck in your search!”

Mushi closed the door, and once the crowds had dispersed, he chuckled. “Impressive quick thinking, Jin.”

“I mean, it wasn’t technicallya lie.” Jin shrugged. “They just didn’t have all the context.”

Mushi burst into outright laughter at that. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

Li poked his head out from the kitchen. “Are they gone?” hestage-whispered.

“Yes, they’re gone,” Jin said, rolling her eyes lightheartedly. “Now, I figured you had to be some kind of firebender when you lit those lanterns, but I gotta say, I was not expecting the crown.”

Li’s eyes widened. “You figured me out on our date?”

“Eeyup,” said Jin with a nod.

“And you still wanted to..?”

Li’s fingers lifted to his lips, and Jin softened. “Well, yeah. I probably shouldn’t have gone for it on the first date, but you’re nice, and you’re funny, and you care a lot, even if you have trouble figuring out how to show it. And before your dumb sad brain tells you I’m only saying it because of where you are in life now, I’m just repeating the same stuff I told my friends right afterwards. So what if you had the same bending abilities as the soldiers trying to break down the wall? Theywouldn’t have lit the fountain for some Earth Kingdom refugee.”

Li’s face screwed up, and Jin almost worried she’d said something wrong, but Mushi just swept in and led Li to the table Jin had taken just a few minutes prior. “Congratulations, Jin. I believe you’re the first person outside of our traveling companions who has gotten it through my nephew’s thick skull that people love him for who he is.”

“High praise, though that award should have been given out after Mr. Fancypants here got coronated, not months later,” Jin said, taking her seat again.

“Unfortunately, such is the way of the world,” said Mushi. “However, where a trickle of water flows, there is always the potential for a roaring river.”

Li snorted. “Your proverbs still don’t make sense, Uncle.”

“I think I get it,” Jin said. “There’s gotta be a little progress before things can get to where you want them to be.”

Li’s face whipped up, and then he snapped around to look at Mushi. “Why can’t you just say that?!”

“It’s less fun that way,” Mushi said unapologetically. “I shall go start some tea, I think. Any preferences?”

“Jasmine, please, Mushi!”

“Yeah, I’ll take jasmine, too.”

“One pot of jasmine tea coming right up!”

Jin beamed as Mushi retreated to the kitchen, then gave Li’s shoulder a squeeze. “So, got any stories from the courts that are just begging to be told, Li?”

“Uh, Zuko, actually,” Li-Zukomurmured. “And my uncle is Iroh.”

Huh. Well, that would make sense. Fire Nation names for Fire Nation royals.

“Oh? Well, then, Zuko, I didn’t hear a ‘no, Jin, I don’t have any stories for you,’ in there,” Jin pointed out, elbowing him with a grin.

Zuko smiled. “Okay, well, there was this one time that Aang- that’s the Avatar, but he’s only, like, twelve, or maybe thirteen, give or take the century in the ice- decided he wanted to teach us all how to make Air Nomad fruit pies, but he didn’t tell us until after that he was gonna throw them at our faces! So that started a food fight, and we didn’t realize the food fight had started overlapping with a scheduled meeting until...”

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #iroh #jin #rosie writes #i promise i'm still working on my GF fics #i just Do Not Control The Hyperfixate fjkdlasfadsfds #YEET I HAVE NO IMPULSE CONTROL

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soranihimawari · 3 years ago

Text

Lights On in Onigiri Miya

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Miya Osamu x Reader

Rating: angst to fluff

Warnings: friends to strangers to lovers// atsumu being a better brother & friend to yn in the long run

[18:54]

There is a box of unopened 40 Watt light bulbs atop the server station at Onigiri Miya. Electricians typically don’t necessarily work past their clock out times, so one of the employees suggests the manager-owner for the night shift that particular day come over to take a look at the lighting fixture. Turns out the last set of light bulbs had burned out in the interim of having the circuit breaker being looked at and set up to code. At this rate, closing half of the restaurant had seemed like a win-lose situation because the profits they could be making as a whole are slashed in half. Contrary to popular belief, opening and maintaining the exceptional service Onigiri Miya has had these last couple of years, seemed to have a put a minor case of self-doubt on one particular person’s shoulders.

In the past, people who frequent the restaurant were quick to note a few nuances about the owner: a young, sharp-witted, twenty-something-year old kid with dreams of pursuing his first passion outside of volleyball, has a rather ambiguous chip on his shoulder. Years of culinary and business school under his belt had taught the man how to wield both the knife and expense books, so when the bank offered to honor his request for a business loan to help put his goal into reality, it did take him by surprise. Miya Osamu, soon to be owner of this empty corner store in a neighborhood in the downtown area of his childhood hometown stands in the center of the room, his phone in his hand.

“You. Did. What?!” the voice, which sounds so much like his own, yells through the speaker. Don’t misunderstand, his twin brother is quite proud of him, yet sometimes (like right now) a string of curses and empty threats to beat his brother up for pulling a hat-trick the size of an Olympic stadium sound appealing.

So, why does a light bulb which needs to be changed after it has burnt out hours ago, vex the storm gray eyed entrepreneur?

“Boss?” a server who has been with the company for nearly two years now decided to speak up just a bit seeing as her superior was having a bit of trouble.

“Yeah?” He hands her the burnt out bulb and in exchange the same server hands the new one back.

“She’s here.”

The bulb is essentially screwed in and since this was the half of the restaurant where the power had been turned off prior, the shock doesn't happen from fingertip to lamp. At least not yet.

A familiar laugh and a greeting is heard among other patrons in reference as to who had just walked into his restaurant. How long has it been now since you last saw each other? Four? Five years, now? Sure being friends and keeping in constant contact with the only person whom you had eyes for since third year of high school was more damaging than good, especially when you throw reunions and the constant forced proximity due to a certain blonde loud mouth and a gossip friendly raven-haired mutual friend pushes you two further away like powerful magnets. The radio silence since the day of the argument that became the antithesis for your need to end whatever pretense you had befriended a Miya-twin during a group outing caused a paradigm rift.

“Even if forgiveness was on the tip of the tongue,” as you once said during a much needed 7-11 run with the offender’s blonde brother. “One of us has to be fire and the other, water, Tsumu…” You offer a watery smile. The athlete then says probably one of the wisest things an eighteen year old can say to someone who lets words of anger break them a bit.

“Every once in a while ‘Samu loses himself in an argument and says the dumbest shit., but you and I both know he doesn’t mean it.”

Your eyes are drawn downward as you fiddle with your pack of peanut m&m’s.

“He said my drawings were dumb.”

Sure, brothers fight the pettiest things, but this–causing a mutual classmate, let alone friend, any sort of pain makes for an all out war.

If there is one thing everyone who hangs around the Inarazki Boy’s Volleyball team, it’s that your talent is something you work at perfecting everyday. Your art style was coded in photorealism and even that was a rare find to even have, but to hear someone whom you thought was a friend say such damning things, you tend to cease contact altogether. Hence why you’re currently trying not to choke in between eating said candy in a 7-11 parking lot as the sweet chocolate is mixed well with sadness.

Come the following couple of days, a list of the seniors who were readily accepted into their respective universities get published in the newspapers. Those who went to pursue the athletic routes are stated with the select sport and teams they had been scouted for while in their off season regardless of being tied with a college or not. Surprisingly, this was how the team find out Miya Osamu’s plan to pursue culinary arts and eventually business, yet as for you, when it’s your class’ turn to get published, your name appears next to the iconic bolden letters of ECAL, Switzerland seemed to have eclipsed the news.

“Holy fucking shit,” a particular middle blocker says gripping the newspaper in his hands. He asks to be excused from class yelling an, “official emergency volleyball club meeting!” over his shoulder. Suna, for what his worth is, is a fast runner nearly smacking down several students (and teachers) in the long run before running to where he knew the twins were enjoying the remaining lunch period.

“Oi, Suna,” he doesn’t particularly break a sweat when he catches up to them. However, since it is also valid to assume you haven’t made up with the culinary-bound Miya yet, Suna thrusts the paper into the brothers’ hands.

“She got in,” he says when his breath finally returns triumphantly back into his lungs. “She got in.”

The blonde reads the list and he too has the same awkwardly proud face radiating from reading the box highlighted with the special text used. His brother, on the other hand, suddenly feels the weight of what he had said in the middle of the argument from two weeks ago slap him across the face. The argument in question was based on asking an innocent ‘what do you wanna do after we graduate from here’: for athletes who prove they can keep up like Atsumu and Suna, the path was clear; Osamu mentions he would want to go back to his first love (the wooden kitchen set his grandparent bought when he was three); as for you, you make a comment about leaving Hyogo altogether saying you’d always want to see the world. You’d make sure to draw everything you’ve encountered and the like considering you were a part of the art clubs scenes throughout your years in academia here. Your three friends were supposed to encourage you, in fact two of them did give you enough yen to finish the applications for international students when they kind of noticed a list of schools written a top your study steno-book. The same list was written in a majority of your sketchpads littered throughout the living room everyone was gathered in for movie night. Yet, with your sudden declaration not sitting right with the third, the threat of you leaving for good causes a discordance to emerge. You were dragged outside in a polite, ’we need to talk’ manner outside on your rear porch, thus starting the downfall and eventual separation between two former friends who kindly became strangers.

Five years of separation is a good thing, or at least everyone who has since interacted with either of you would agree. The first year away from each other was spent creating memories and learning the new areas where you’d be living for the next chapter of your lives. Sure, the cuisine was great and the seasons took some getting used to, but your sketch pads were always filled cover to cover. Some pages were marked with coffee stains and the occasional handsome stranger. Pressed flowers joined the fray in year two where you finally seemed to grasp the Swede language along with sporting traditions. You make your first group of co-ed friends who love your charming nuances and one night post-pub scene, one such friend and you decide to test the waters to become something more. The relationship lasted for about another year before the minor cracks began to damage the friendship which was best kept out of the spoils of when the breakup would eventually come.

On the phone you balanced atop a pillow, a certain internationally ranked setter dons an Onigiri Miya shirt which, you comment, seemed new. The blonde sticks his tongue out at your joke after insinuating the athlete was trying to summon his brother’s talents in the kitchen of his own home. A secret is then shared after the laughter simmers down to a chuckle: ‘I know he won’t say it, but I will: he misses you more than you think.’ You wince, shaking your head slight-quoting the hurtful words slung at you years ago on your backyard: ‘Tell him I’m still making dumb drawings if he asks.’ You remind your caller of the time and wrap up there. The setter turns and looks at the other person in the room who turns abruptly on his heel with a bottle of bourbon in his hands.

Life goes on from there: you graduate with your peers, having gained a few years of experience in the art scene in a foreign country, mastering its language and learning to love its people (some a bit more than others), you board the flight back home. Back to the place and essentially a new city where you find your jetlagged self wandering into an onigiri shop. The open sign still buzzes with neon burgundy lights spelling the kanji for “OPEN.” Behind the flaps that divides the kitchen from the front of house, you hear not one, but two familiar voices come through. One of which nearly topples over the empty barstool and the other, in all his ‘relaxed day’ uniform (complete with baseball cap and apron) drops the order in his hands breaking the plates in the process.

“Why’d ya do that ya jer–Oh, hey yn! Long time no see,” the blonde twin on the floor rises to his feet, brushing off the remainder puffs of rice from his team jacket. The logo is pretty spiffy if you were asked your opinion. His brother, on the other hand, seems to have frozen in real time as though he was going to be stored back to his factory settings if he were a robot; he notices how much older you looked under the fluorescent lights of his shop, the light bouncing off your out-grown asymmetric bob. Your luggage bag had since been reduced to one large rollaway and two backpacks (one carryon, the other a canister of your completed works). Talking essentially resumes once you’re joined by a very enthusiastic blonde athlete who now is informing you of his renewal with the MSBY pro-team with talks about him being selected to try out for the next Olympiad games. The mini chandelier by your side of the establishment seems to flicker just a smidge when your friend offers to pick up the tab tonight.

“Thanks. I completely forgot to forward my documents to the government agencies before I came back home, so I still only have euros to work with, hah,” you laugh.

Miya Atsumu waves his hand in the air for one of two things: one you don’t have to worry about any expenses when it came to food because he owed you food when you first came back (you remind each other any time you have a moment to talk and catch up) and two, this reunion between his brother and you was long overdue. So when you laugh, though it has been considered an odd sound, a delightful one if he’s ever heard something so pure, he’d be sure he had been struck dead by the pomp and circumstance of it all.

“Oh! Yer probably wondering why my brother is still standin’ there all silent,'' your companion says while another employee, this time the cashier, brings out the broom to dispose of the split food. You nod for the blonde to continue.

“Well, how would ya feel if the one personal relationship from yer teenage years ya regret not fixin’ walks straight into yer first (an’ only) successful restaurant and ya can’t say a proper hello because knowin’ ya track record, ya might give ‘im the boot.”

He slides out of the self-seated booth you shared just in time to notice the replacement dishes go out to their respectful patrons. You watch as the brothers exchange one of those twin telepathy looks as the other leaves instructions for his second in charge for the shift. Mentioning to the rest of the staff that something personal had to be taken care of by their boss, a few of the new hires along with their trainers watch their boss face off with what seemed like an old-ex-flame.

“One must be fire, one must be water,” you whisper to yourself like a prayer. You swallow the last bit of anxieties threatening to spill out of your mouth with a few seconds to spare as the other Miya, broadened by the work of the kitchen behind him, takes his brother’s place. You finally move your eyes from beyond the table upward to pick up the little details you missed: hands made strong from volleyball had turned into callus cracked skin from wielding various knives, some of the burn marks on his wrists from learning the sacred art of perfecting sticky mango rice darkened certain streaks of his skin; the taut fabric of his attire accentuates the a more sturdy frame from your high school days; and finally when you lock eyes with this Miya, you pick up on the many sleepless nights he must have had after realizing just how cruel he was. Lines under his softening gray-eyes darkened by early mornings and late nights of worrying about whether or not this business adventure was a good idea seemed to stare back.

“Hi,” you breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t fumble your greeting. “Been a while, huh, ‘Samu?”

He clears his throat, nodding. His hair is dark as the night sky again, so you point at your own.

“You went back to your roots I see,” he chuckles.

Elsewhere, his brother watches with a smug look of pride in his features.

“Ya came back home,” his voice sounds like he had been walking on broken glass. It’s not long after that his inner eighteen-year-old sounding self pours out of him; his apologies always sounded the most sincere especially when the vulnerability comes in his delivery. You encourage him to let it all out because in return you honestly wanted to thank him for being the first one to tell you ‘no.’

“Without your harsh words that night, I wouldn’t have been able to handle a lot of the criticisms I faced abroad,” you lean back in your chair in a more relaxed posture.

Miya Osamu, now twenty-three years old, sits across from you asking if it’s too late to still lend a hand of support every once in a while. You choose to accept it when necessary, however you remind him if he so ever pulls something that idiotic or hurtful ever again, you’d walk away for a much longer period of time.

This reconnection is what has Miya Osamu so nervous. It’s been a couple months since that encounter and birthdays have come and past, he just knew tonight he couldn’t warrant any mistakes. Light bulbs be damned because he was determined to make this lighting fixture work even as you now stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Your hand has a few flecks of dried paint from the curator’s office your work frequently is displayed at. Two and a half years since you’ve made your return back home, you decide it’s high time for a new adventure. The first couple of months since you and Miya Osamu learn to repair what had been lost in order to use it to your mutual advantage of navigating more young-adult friendships slowly, but steadily, turns into the uncharted territories of pursuing each other romantically (much to his brother’s dismay). Learning to forgive is a major milestone in any relationship and therefore embracing the change of seeking to let go of painful words (and time apart) morphed two individuals into who they were meant to be.

And if you happen to pass by Onigiri Miya tonight after hours, you’d notice the light in the corner of the dining room serves as a backlight to two people dancing cheek to cheek as the road paved behind them is filled with dried tears, empty carry out boxes, and several used (aka:well loved) phone chargers. Knowing they don’t have to navigate the rest of the time shared together here alone, leaves the dimly lit path of the future waiting with infinite possibilities.

#sora after hours #sora scribbles 2022 #timeskip!miya.o x artist!reader #friends to strangers to lovers bby #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue

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tracybirds · 3 years ago

Text

Paper Dreams

John receives a prestigious invite and he’s not sure how to respond.

Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for the encouragement because I am nerves!!

* * *

The crisp white envelope was heavy in his hands as he hurried from the room. Paper was a formality, a mark of distinction that would surely draw his brothers’ unwanted attention. Letters didn’t just arrive unannounced in this era of high-speed data connections and quantum supercomputers. In fact, they didn’t arrive at all.

So, John was more than a little apprehensive when Grandma Tracy silently handed him the sealed envelope and walked away.

It took only a few short minutes to read through the contents and he sat back against the window in his room, the words whirling in his mind.

Mars Colonisation Project. Distinguished candidate. Invited to apply.

An opportunity of a lifetime.

A way to prove for once and for all that he was more than his father’s famous name.

John clutched at the letter, the paper crinkling in his grasp. He mouthed the words as he read them, over and over.

He looked up at the sound of a loud yell calling his name, hurriedly shoving the letter into the envelope and dropping it at his side. Snatching up a nearby tablet, his flushed ears were the only hint of the letter that remained when Gordon shoved open the door.

“John, dinner, hurry up.”

His brother tore out of the room before he could respond.

* * *

John slipped into his seat, mouthing an apology to Grandma Tracy as he did.

“Finally!” cried Alan. He wriggled back in his seat, staring hopefully at the food. “Grandma said we had to wait for you, you took forever!”

“Is Dad not eating?” asked Virgil. “I heard him come in.”

“He’s taking it in the study tonight,” said Grandma Tracy, shaking her head slightly. “Brains dropped by and they’re holing up together on that project of theirs.”

John glanced over at the conspicuously empty seat at the head of table. They all knew what ‘that project’ meant.

In the heady rush of excitement, he’d all but forgotten the silent expectation that accompanied his studies and extra-curriculars for the past five years. A pet project alone wouldn’t have been enough to deter him from his own ambitions, but the Thunderbirds, they offered something different, something more than the office politics of academia, squabbling over research grants.

He’d never known anything that could compete.

Until now.

“Hey,” said Virgil in a low tone, nudging him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

John pulled himself back into the present with a slight grimace.

“Fine. Just thinking about an assignment.”

Virgil nodded slowly, looking him up and down with a critical eye.

“Are you going to eat anything, or just push it around?”

John automatically lifted his fork, blinking as the peas fell back to the plate and landed in a pile of mushy, grey potatoes.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry.”

“Can I have yours?” asked Alan, already reaching over to grab at his plate.

“Not hungry, John?” asked Grandma Tracy. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

She examined the pinched look in his face and the nervous twist of one hand inside the other.

“No,” said John, wishing he hadn’t said anything. The last thing he wanted was any level of scrutiny. “I’m fine, Grandma, honest.”

He let Alan scrape his leftovers from his plate, realising with a pang than he’d had another growth spurt over the previous semester at his boarding school.

If he left for Mars, he’d return to a brother he’d hardly recognise.

Colonisation was a long-term project, the result of years in planning and decades of dreams. Countless people would put their life’s work into its development and they had every right to expect the same of their astronauts. The application process alone was heavily involved and would severely limit time with his family, to say nothing of the many years ahead for him on Mars if he made it all the way into space. He’d be travelling millions of miles from home, only to find himself living with a group of strangers that he couldn’t escape without logging an external environment report.

He didn’t even like sharing a bathroom at the university housing that much.

Still the piece of paper called to him.

“Can I be excused?”

Grandma Tracy nodded and he hurried from the room, not noticing her troubled look.

The warmth of the room followed him into the hallway and he shut the door firmly behind him. He thrust his hand into his pocket, searching for the reassuring touch of cool paper.

It was real.

It was real and if he let the opportunity pass by, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

Or he might be wasting his time, pinning his hopes on something that would only serve to distract him in the long run. He could only imagine what Scott would say, who’d never once taken his eye off a prize once he’d decided to aim for it.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he wanted, and found himself climbing into the cramped space under the roof that had generously called a playroom, then a study, then an attic.

He blinked as the bare bulb overhead lit the small room, filling it with old memories and dust.

His first telescope was still standing in the corner, pointing high in the sky and he lifted the edge of his T-shirt to wipe the dust away. Surrounding it, lay stacks of books that his mom had picked up from the local thrift store, that Mrs Delaney, the owner, put them aside just for him.

John walked carefully among them, tugging the small window open and staring out into the night. The stars shone bright in the clear, crisp air.

Crouching down, he peered through the eye piece, adjusting the focus with a practiced hand. The little reflector was nothing like the giant telescopes available at the college department, and he had to hold his breath to stop the stand from wobbling. But the universe was still out there, the same as it was when he was a kid, still holding an infinite number of mysteries despite the years he had spent uncovering the rules that held it together.

He looked up, eyes darting through the familiar patterns, searching for the anomaly he knew was wandering between Gemini and Taurus.

And there it was.

Mars.

A planet with so much to offer the world they lived on. Where he could work with a team of people who loved space just like him, where he could devote his life to researching astronomy from a new perspective and developing technology for interplanetary life for generations to come.

Where he could leave his mark alongside all the heroes of his childhood. Alongside his dad.

“After all, why shouldn’t I go?” he said, scowling up at Mars.

“Go where?”

John spun around with a start.

“Kayo! When did you get in?”

She shrugged, propping up her head with her hand.

“Long enough to see you come up here,” she said. “I waited for you, but then Mrs Tracy said you hadn’t eaten. Figured something was wrong.”

She looked him up and down with a piercing eye. John tried not to squirm. He’d always felt Kayo had something of a sixth sense when it came to knowing things that should have been a secret.

“Seems like I was right,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then where are you planning on going?”

“Nowhere. I don’t think, that is…”

He flopped down and tilted his head back with a huff.

“Not right now, at any rate.”

Kayo pulled herself up onto the floor and drew the ladder upwards.

Neither spoke as the trapdoor shut with a small ‘click’.

The dust swirled in the air, dancing in the shafts of light above them.

“Is it a graduate program?”

“No.”

“An international program?”

“No.”

“A long-term space colonisation program for specially selected candidates who have already proven themselves in the fields of communications, astrophysics and astrotechnology?”

John stared at her.

She shrugged.

“It’s my job to know.”

“So, why even ask?”

“I’m trying to get you to lower your guard.”

She smiled at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“You’ve met Brains, right? He’s got some server tracker that flags your name. They asked your advisor for academic and personal references months ago.”

“Oh God,” said John, dropping his head in his ands and staring wildly at the floor. “Does Dad already know?”

Kayo shook her head.

“Dad and I do. Security details and all. But we don’t tell him that kind of stuff, you know, he’s not spying on you.”

“You’re right, that’s a real comfort,” said John, drily.

Kayo tossed her head.

“I’m just saying.”

Her eyes softened as she watched him draw his knees close to his chest.

“He doesn’t know.” She hesitated, still watching him. “Would it be all that bad if he did though?”

John huffed a little, still staring at his knees.

“International Rescue’s all we’ve ever talked about,” he said. “I didn’t think there’d be anything else I wanted. What if I let him down?”

“He’s already proud of you, John.”

“But we’ve been working towards it for so long now. This would change everything. Delay the full scope of the project for months, or years even.”

Kayo snorted.

“You really think Jeff Tracy, resident billionaire and with access to the best tech in the world, wouldn’t be able to find another genius astrotechnician and communication expert?”

John shot her a withering look.

“Okay, so maybe he’d have to find two super geniuses.”

She easily dodged the picture book he threw in her direction.

“Leave off,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Kayo spotted the slight smile though, and grinned broadly in return.

“Can I?” she asked, nodding at the space between him and the wall.

John nodded and shuffled over as best he could, trying not to topple the book stacks around them.

Kayo wriggled into the gap, and John paid her no mind.

He hadn’t thought of who would take his place because, of course, someone must. He’d been preparing for an International Rescue without him, one where his family diverted communications for a few years and focused their efforts on establishing themselves on land and sea until Alan stepped into his role on Thunderbird Five.

He hadn’t imagined an International Rescue where he wasn’t even needed.

Kayo seemed to sense the turn in his thoughts, nudging him gently to pull him from them.

“He wouldn’t trust them half as much as you, you know.”

John shrugged.

“I don’t want to disappoint him,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t want that to be the only reason I don’t go.”

He took a deep breath, and glanced back up at the slowly setting planet.

“And I want to go,” he admitted. “I do. I need to tell him.”

Kayo nodded, a sad look in her eyes. They sat in silence together, lost in their own thoughts. The bustle of the house downstairs filtered upwards. Muffled bangs and indistinct shouts of Gordon and Alan playing some ridiculous game, loud music from Virgil’s room – the kind he put on to drown out any interruption to his painting. Grandma Tracy seemed to be having some kind of one-sided conversation with herself, until John remembered, with a pang, that it was Saturday morning out in Guam and she was likely speaking to Scott at that very moment.

Kayo sighed and dropped her head on John’s shoulder.

“I’d miss you though.”

John swallowed carefully past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’d miss you too.”

* * *

John was too old to be summoned to his father’s study, but somehow deliberately interrupting him felt worse. Nausea sat like a rock in his stomach, his voice box left in tatters as he knocked on the solid oak door.

“Who is it?”

He couldn’t reply.

His eyes flitted across the family photos that littered the hallway, landing finally on the image of his father and crewmates waving to the masses as they entered the Herschel-VI.

The photograph didn’t show the way his father was blind to the crowd, his farewell only for the woman who stood half a mile from the launchpad, proud, so proud, and sick with worry too. She held tight to her eldest son with one hand, and rested her other on the stroller she was rocking back and forth. She didn’t see the way he had wriggled out of his restraints nor how he was preparing to drop to the ground and run away, already intent on chasing after his father at three years old.

Jeff Tracy, first man on Mars, opened the door with a frown and a touch of impatience, and John knew there would be no escape this time.

“John.”

“Dad.”

His throat closed around his words and his hand closed around the letter in a fist.

Jeff looked down at the sound, and looked back at John, an assessing look in his eye. He stepped back wordlessly and John entered the severe room.

“What’s happened, son?” he asked, holding his hand out for the letter.

He smoothed down the crumpled edges as he read, his eyes leaping from phrase to phrase on the page.

“Well, it seems congratulations are in order. I assume you intend to accept?”

The knot in John’s chest loosened and he collapsed into the chair opposite Jeff.

“I intend to apply,” he corrected, staring down at the desk between them.

“John, they don’t reach out like this unless they want you onboard. They intend you to be on that shuttle, regardless of the formalities the bureaucrats put in place.”

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blueprints, Brains’ small, neat handwriting annotating each design and his father’s looping comments scrawled liberally across them.

Jeff followed his line of sight and smiled.

“Five won’t be operational for a few more years, you know that. Don’t let her be what holds you back.”

“But this was always it, this is why I’m getting space rated. And the satellite network still needs to be launched, and the orbital mechanics calculated.”

“An opportunity like this doesn’t come your way twice, son.”

John stopped.

“You think I should accept. If they say yes.”

“Don’t you?”

There it was. His father’s blessing laid out in front of him, just waiting to be taken up like a pennant.

Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d sacrificed, gone. In its place, a single shining achievement, a global community on their sister planet. The first of its kind.

It had been a long time since John had allowed himself to dream his own dreams.

“Alright,” he said, a giddy rush spinning his head so that he hardly knew what he was saying. “I’m gonna do it.”

#john tracy #kayo kyrano #jeff tracy #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic

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woodrokiro · 3 years ago

Text

Bar Service (fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Characters/Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: Bartenders--especially bartenders around the corner from her apartment--are strictly off limits. Restaurant AU. Written for @ichirukimonth . TW warning for mentioned child abuse.

She doesn’t think much of the restaurant a few blocks away from her new apartment.

She always passes it to and from her work commute, of course. Maybe from time to time she glanced over, musing how it looks cute enough--a great place to take a date or some friends....

Before Rukia remembers: 1. She doesn’t have the time or capacity to date, and 2. She has no friends here yet… And probably won’t for a while, considering her lifelong difficulty making them in the first place.

It’s fine by her, honestly. She likes throwing everything she has into her job, loves doing her best to earn a smile or laugh from her patients. That’s enough social interaction for her, and at the end of the day she can go home, pour a glass of wine, switch the television on to some silly drama and order takeout without mourning the “loss” of a Friday night.

So for the first few months that she’s living in Karakura: no. She doesn’t even think about stepping foot in Amore e Morte.

Until she gets a particularly bad case at work.

The fact that it was a foster child case alone makes her heart hurt--but of course, there’s always more with these sort of situations.

A little girl named Hina, aged eight but looking so much smaller waiting there in her office. The social worker sitting with her--a woman named Rangiku, who Rukia knows a little and actually quite likes--squeezes Hina’s tiny hand before pulling Rukia to the side, quietly explaining the situation.

Physical abuse from her former home where she had been for a year. Her teacher kept noticing bruises in odd places and finally called CPS, who did nothing for two months before the behavior escalated and Hina ended up in the ER.

Her new foster mom is a real nice lady, says she hasn’t been acting out or anything but… Rangiku shrugs, flashing a reassuring smile when the little girl looks their way. You know.

She knows.

So Rukia does what she does best: she goes to the little girl, introduces herself by her first name, and focuses on her work until she can sob angrily in her car at lunch break.

And when her workday is done, when her emotions are fried and she’d really like a drink or three anywhere but her lonely apartment--she sees the restaurant’s sign, glowing warmly in the dusk light.

Amore e Morte. Love and death. A weird name for a restaurant, she thinks, and wonders if the owners either don’t know Italian and thought the name was cool or are just uppity snobs.

If you’d stop being so cynical you might go out and actually enjoy life. She can practically hear Renji’s voice scoffing in her ear now.

She parks her car at home before walking back over to the restaurant.

The outside of the restaurant is nice enough, but the inside is… Well. Lovely.

Brick walls painted white make the entire place look minimalist yet cozy. A couple of trendy paintings hanging sparsely through the restaurant makes the environment chic, but not overbearing. A few hanging lanterns bring just enough light to let everyone see where they’re going, but otherwise candles are utilized at each of the tables for a romantic touch.

Rukia sees by the sheer number of couples there that it is indeed a good place to bring a date.

And by the looks of one dish smelling deliciously of chicken and bell peppers that passes her by in a waiter’s hand, the food isn’t too bad either. Rukia’s mouth waters.

“A table for one, miss?”

Rukia startles from her musings, feeling rather silly as the bright and cheery hostess smiles patiently back.

“Oh! No, I don’t think that’s necessary. I wouldn’t want to take up one of your tables. Do you have bar seating?”

“Of course! Right this way.”

The hostess leads her into an adjacent room that sits tucked away from the main dining room. There’s still a couple of tables in this room, and two of the eight bar stools are occupied but it’s so much quieter here, the noise of the dining room a mere buzz. She breathes a small sigh of relief as she takes the stool at the far end. She wanted to be out and about, just… Not that out and about.

“Our bartender Kurosaki-kun will be taking care of you. I believe he’s just in the back talking to Chef, he should be right back.”

Rukia thanks her, taking a glance at the menu.

She quickly finds out Chef Yasutora Sado’s menu inspiration is Mexican-Japanese fusion cuisine, which is… Interesting, considering the restaurant’s name is Italian. In any case, she’s fascinated. Rukia by no account considers herself a foodie, but the thought of blending traditional Japanese dishes with Mexican spices and turning them into something like sukiyaki tacos makes her stomach growl.

“Can I get you something other than water to drink?”

Her gaze flickers from the menu to the well-toned arm extended out toward her, pouring a glass of water. Her eyes move up the arm to the man it’s attached to.

A handsome guy, she’ll admit: if it wasn’t for the obviously bleached orange hair, the sword tattoo on his forearm peeking out from under his rolled sleeve, and the fact that he looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

If she had to pick him out from a crowd, there’s no doubt she’d know him as a bartender. What a walking cliche.

“Yes, I’ll take--” She didn’t even take a glance at the drink menu. She looks down quickly. “Sorry. Can I get a matcha mojito?”

He nods, his hands suddenly flying through liquors and shakers and mixes to make her drink. “You ready for food, too?”

“Any recommendations?”

“Everything.”

She snorts. She’d be irritated by the subpar service if it wasn’t for his small smirk at her response.

“Seriously, everything’s good here. If you get something you don’t like, drinks are on me.”

“Risky.” Rukia lifted an eyebrow. “You place that bet with every customer?”

“Every single one.”

She highly doubts that, but she appreciates the trust in his workplace nonetheless. She orders a couple of small plates, and he tends to his other drink orders while she sips her own.

The food, when it comes out, is… Infuriatingly good. Infuriating because she would have loved to have scored a couple free drinks off the arrogant punk bartender, but she’ll have to swallow her pride because the sukiyaki taco is absolute divinity. She sips her second drink, already accepting that she’s gonna have to admit to him she’ll be paying full price for everything she ordered.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like she’ll have a chance to gloat. From what she hears next door, dinner service has picked up and with that: drink orders. He’s doing as well as he can--hands expertly flying through the liquors, garnishing the cocktails with an expert flourish before passing them on to a server--but she can tell he’s feeling the stress, particularly when he reads his second to last ticket in the rush.

“Fuck,” she hears as he rolls his eyes, stalking over to the wine cabinet. A server comes by, concerned.

“You need anything, Ichigo?”

He waves a hand, not turning to look at his coworker. “No, no I’m fine. Just annoying when I don't open a bottle before rush, that’s all.”

The server scuttles off to tend to her tables while Rukia watches him bang a (very expensive looking) wine bottle on the counter, clumsily ripping into the foil with an opener. At one point he cuts his thumb, and he half-hazardly wraps a paper napkin around it while he tries helplessly to pull the cork up. The wine opener doesn’t grip the bottle steadily a couple of times, she waits on baited breath to see if he’ll break the bottle. After a few dangerous-looking test runs, he manages to hoist the cork up, cursing out a “fucking finally” at the sound of the cork popping.

The whole thing must have taken ten minutes.

Maybe it’s the matcha mojitos finally hitting her, but she can’t help it. She laughs.

He shoots her a wild look and she covers her chuckles with the back of her hand.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m not--it’s not funny. I just… That was the most atrocious opening of a wine bottle I’ve ever seen.”

Ichigo stares for a moment before scoffing, turning back to his (finally opened) bottle and pours the wine into a glass. “Yeah, well… I don’t do wine service here, lady.”

“Excuse me? That’s ridiculous. You’re a bartender.”

“Exactly. Bartender. I do cocktails, not fancy wine stuff.”

“Let me guess, you consider yourself a mixologist.”

“Don’t ever call me that. Ever.” He’s shaking his head as he moves on to his next order, but oddly enough Rukia feels like she knows he’s suddenly having a good time. “Like I said, I don’t do wine etiquette and all that. That’s for the servers.”

“I’m just… It’s hard to believe you’ve made it this far in a nicer restaurant’s bar without knowing how to open wine.”

“Not that far. I’ve been here for like, six months.” He shrugs at her inquisitive stare. “Old buddies with the chef. I bar backed in college where he was a line cook, so… And if he ever got sick of me, my sister is his sous chef. Then again, she’s more likely to fire me than he is, the brat.”

“Especially with you not knowing how to open a fine vintage.”

“Get over it. When it’s not busy I get one of the servers to help me.” He looks down, having seemingly forgotten about his paper toweled thumb. “Shit. Hang on, I gotta get a bandaid from the back--”

“I have some, if you want.” Rukia starts digging through her purse. “If there’s not some restaurant code for the kind of bandage you’re supposed to use, of course.”

“If it looks neater than a shoddy paper towel job, ‘should be fine. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Here.”

He stares at her outstretched hand. She stares back, getting more irritated as she waits.

“What?”

“... It’s a Chappy bandaid.”

“So?”

“So why are you a grown ass woman carrying around Chappy bandaids?”

“They’re for my patients, for kids.” She’s telling the truth, technically. To say she also quite enjoys Chappy as a character does not need to be mentioned. “Do you want it or not? Swallow your manly pride or go looking for an ugly beige bandage while your tickets pile up again. Tick tock.”

“Fine! All right, already.” He takes the bandaid and starts unpeeling the paper adhesive. “You a pediatrician or something?”

“Child psychologist.” Suddenly Rukia remembers Hina’s sweet face and feels terrible for not thinking about her once this entire dinner.

“Jesus.” Ichigo’s shaking his head, pressing Chappy to his cut.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fact that it’s such a weird response to her revealing her profession, but Rukia can’t help it. She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

If he’s uncomfortable with her sudden hostility, he doesn’t show it. He shrugs. “It’s just… I can imagine it’s a hard job. Sometimes, anyway.”

Oh.

“Oh,” she exhales. “I’m sorry, I--yes. It can be, yes.I just… That sort of response I’ve only ever gotten from people that don’t believe in the importance of mental health. ‘Shrink talk’ and what have you.”

“Nah, I believe it.” He’s finished his job of covering his wound and moved on to his next drink order.

She’s abashedly stirring the ice in her glass when she barely hears him say: “I had to go to a children’s therapist once, as a kid. Helped me a lot.”

She raises her head to look at him. He hasn’t changed his facial expression, nor is there any change to his body language as he continues to do his job--but as a psychologist, Rukia can’t help but wonder whether she’s the first person he’s ever told this to.

“Me too. When I was a child, I… A therapist had helped me, too.” She raises her glass and clears her throat. “To recognizing childhood trauma, I suppose.”

He lets out a short laugh at the sudden dark joke, a sound so quick and so… So nice she can’t stop the fleeting thought that it’s a sound she’d like to hear more of. She shoves it away.

Bartenders are absolutely off limits.

He raises the glass that he’s mixing a cocktail in. “Yeah. Cheers.”

Later when she finally picks up the check, she pauses.

“Excuse me.” She waves Ichigo down, maybe just a tad tipsy. “You got the check wrong.”

He frowns, taking the bill from her and scanning it. “What are you…”

“You forgot to put a drink on there. My third one.”

It clicks and he rolls his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“What? I’m being honest.”

“It’s on me.” He slides the receipt back to her.

“But I didn’t dislike any of the dishes!”

“Take some advice, will you Doc? If the restaurant staff didn’t put something on your bill and you still got it, chances are: we wanted to give it to you.” They lock eyes for an intense moment before he clears his throat, looks down to wipe his (suspiciously clean) bar. “‘To childhood trauma,’ and all that. Now stop yapping so loud about it. You want everyone in the restaurant to hear about me giving out free stuff?”

She shuts her mouth at that, but one small detail about what he said is bothering her.

“It’s not ‘Doc,’ so you know. I have a name. It’s Rukia. Rukia Kuchiki.”

“Okay. Whatever, Rukia.” He turns around and waves his hand. “And I’m Ichigo. Just pay your damn bill and come back soon or whatever.”

And with that: she guesses she has a new spot.

#bleach #ichiruki #irmonth2021 #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #my stuff #may or may not be multi chapter if I'm being reeeal #but this was fun so maybe

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