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seyaryminamoto · 2 years ago

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Leap of Faith: Sokkla Saturdays 2022

Day Eight: Academic Rivals

On FF.net//On AO3

And here's my second-to-last chapter for this year's Sokkla Saturdays! Hope you guys enjoy it!

The office's door swung open: Rector Benzhuo smiled and bowed his head in a display of respect towards the woman who strode through the threshold. He was tense in her presence, but he did his best not to show it as he rose to his feet to greet her properly.

"It's my pleasure to host you, Princess Azula," Benzhuo said.

"And mine to be in Ba Sing Se University today, Rector Benzhuo," Azula said, curtly. "I understand clearing your schedule was no easy feat?"

"It wasn't, no," Benzhuo said. Azula nodded.

"Then we'd best get started right away with the tour. We both have many things to do beyond being here, so…" Azula said, but Benzhuo shook his head.

"We do, but precisely because of how tight my schedule is, I've needed to merge two tours into one, if that's alright?" he said. Azula frowned.

"Two? I thought this was a rather unusual, exclusive service you'd be providing for me?" she asked. "You don't usually do this, do you?"

"I don't, no, but I'm afraid it's quite odd that two people would request a tour of the facilities of our grand, honored university at the same time," Benzhuo said, with an awkward smile. "I even thought that perhaps it was intentional. I do believe you're familiar with our university's other visitor?"

"Am I?" Azula raised an eyebrow slowly. "Well, I know plenty of people, so you'll have to be more specific. Who…?"

Heavy footsteps and breaths came rushing down the hall until they came to a heavy stop right by the door: Azula frowned, turning around warily… and her lips twisted into a grimace of distaste and displeasure upon realizing one of the worst-case scenarios appeared to be happening right now.

"I'm sorry, I'm not late, though! Got here right on time to…! Woah, shit, Azula?!"

His eloquence was accompanied by a grimace of his own. Her eyes bore into his with no remorse, bitterness plain upon her face as she regarded her brother's friend without a smidge of respect. He seemed to share her feelings, if only to a fault, going by how he inched away from her and glanced at the Rector as though to plead for help…

"Ah, see? You did know each other!" Benzhuo grinned brightly. "One tour is better than two, I say!"

It certainly would be better for the busy Rector… but not so much for the two people he'd promised to show the campus to, on that day: the man's words caused them to glare at each other reproachfully, most unwilling to spend any amount of time together, but knowing their respective missions required that they scouted Ba Sing Se university all the same…

They managed to feign civility while the Rector guided them through the campus, explaining the institution's layout as well as the university's internal organization. Both Azula and Sokka asked occasional questions, and glared at each other frequently, too, but they didn't ruin the experience by bickering bitterly… at least, not until the Rector brought them to the dining hall, where he asked them to wait while he ensured to order proper meals for the three of them.

"So… what the hell are you doing here?" Sokka said, point-blank. Azula glared at him across the table, arms folded over her chest.

"I ought to ask you the same question. Especially today…" Azula said, rolling her eyes.

"The Rector said it was the only available day he had for me, that's why I'm here now. If he'd told me it was a group tour, I would've made sure to reschedule. Which, I guess, you would've done, too," Sokka said, pouting. "Look, we don't have to make this a thing, do we? Let's just get through the day and go our separate ways without making a fuss."

"I've made no fusses, so I see no point to this warning of yours," Azula said, curtly. Sokka grimaced. "You're the one asking why I'm here without first venturing your own explanation of why you are, therefore…"

"Well, I'm here as a representative of the Southern Water Tribe, where I hope we can make important progress in education soon," Sokka huffed. "My dad sent me here so I could learn about what's necessary to start a university back home, so…"

"Huh. That's your intent, then?" Azula asked, raising an eyebrow. Sokka stared at her skeptically.

"What about it?" he said, harshly.

"I… suppose your father is a wise man. Wiser than Zuzu," Azula said, with a shrug. "I'm the one who had to insist to him that, if he's so keen on doing better in regards of education, we'd do best to learn from those who are already ahead of us in this respect. I'm here for reasons similar to yours, it seems."

"Huh… that's odd. But, uh, great then?" Sokka said, grimacing still. "Good luck building your own university."

"And good luck to you with yours…"

"Why do you say it like that?" Sokka huffed. Azula raised her eyebrows.

"Like… what?" she said. Sokka scoffed.

"Condescendingly. Like you think I can't do it or something. Is this another 'the Fire Nation's better than everyone else' superiority thing, or are you just particularly keen on underestimating me?" Sokka said, glaring at her. Azula smirked.

"It was simply a wish for good fortune… you, in your grand paranoia, have misconstrued it as something else entirely," Azula retorted.

"Oh, really?" Sokka said.

"You feel smarter, don't you? By acting like you can see right through me and my wicked purposes," Azula said, mockingly, her voice intentionally eerie. "I have no doubts I've estimated you perfectly, peasant. It's not much of a matter of Fire Nation superiority, no… but I, certainly, am better suited for this task than you are for yours."

"Oh, are you, now?" Sokka scoffed. "You think you're the only intellectual in the world, then?"

"Don't start," Azula sighed, shaking her head. "Your puny invasion plan…"

"So puny you had to move as many strings as you did to counter it…"

"And I countered it successfully. Therefore, I clearly outdid you."

"Only because I didn't know that you knew about the invasion," Sokka hissed. Azula rolled her eyes. "You know it's true. On equal standing? You would realize you're actually the one who can't keep up with me."

"Oh, I can't keep up?" Azula laughed, looking at him in disbelief. "Is that right?"

"Damn right, Princess," Sokka declared, raising his head proudly. "I beat you in the Boiling Rock because you didn't have enough information to figure out what was going on…"

"And I beat you and your gang of misfits in Ba Sing Se because you were blind and foolish, trusting you were going to meet your girlfriend when it was actually me, Mai and Ty Lee…"

"Ah, and the drill! Don't forget about the drill! It was my idea and my plan, I figured out how to break it…!"

"You had already infiltrated the drill, damn you: you could have very well made for the command cabin instead and attempted to stop the machine from there rather than by breaking the system elsewhere."

"I… huh?" Sokka blinked blankly. Azula smirked.

"Didn't occur to you, did it? Would have been much more effective, too. In fact… the command cabin was in a most indefensible position, raised right atop the drill. Had you and your friends actively damaged the foundation of the cabin, the drill would have been unable to continue operating, me and the rest of the commanding officers of the mission would have been in serious danger once the command cabin toppled down… so I'm afraid even your grand victories were not as impressive as you want to think they are."

"Y-you…" Sokka groaned, cheeks flushing. "You're just pissed off because you ended up covered in slurry."

"I…!" Azula scoffed, glaring at him: her reaction resulted in a smirk from him, and she composed herself quickly. "You mistake me for Ty Lee."

"Do I, really?" Sokka smirked. Azula rolled her eyes.

"How is it that you and I can't have a conversation for two minutes without winding up arguing about all this?" she asked. Sokka huffed.

"You're too stubborn, I guess…"

"You are!"

He couldn't hold back a soft chuckle as Azula glared at him pointedly. It was true that, in the years after the war, the two of them hadn't been on the best of terms. Whatever their respective reasons might be, theirs was a persistent rivalry that never failed to rear its head in that same bickering and butting of heads they were indulging in now.

"The past is not relevant to what we're here for now," Azula finished, glaring at him. "So your persistent attempts to prove yourself better than me will go nowhere, peasant."

"Only because you already know I'm better, right?" Sokka said, with a careless sing-song voice. Azula rolled her eyes.

"Your delusions are alarming," she said.

"So are yours. You do think you're better than me, so…"

"Do you need tangible evidence of such a simple fact?" Azula scoffed. Sokka raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Because oh… there's a way of going about it, if you're so desperate to gain even a smidge of my respect."

"Is there, now?" Sokka asked. Azula smirked dangerously, and she conveyed her idea to him.

About two minutes later, Rector Benzhuo returned with a careless grin. Two staff members from the kitchens had brought trays full of food for the two guests, and the Rector smiled as he took his seat at their table, too.

"I do hope you enjoy the meal," he said. Azula and Sokka stared at their trays for a moment, but neither one could focus on food properly – a rarity in the latter's case. "Is something the matter?"

"We have a few more questions," Azula said, with a slow smile. The Rector cleared his throat and nodded.

"Why, ask away!"

"How does someone go about enrolling in this school?" Sokka asked.

"How costly is tuition, too?" Azula said next. The Rector blinked blankly.

"Is enrollment in the university exclusive for Ba Sing Se residents?"

"Or Earth Kingdom citizens?"

"W-wait…! That's four questions all at once, and…!" the Rector swallowed hard, glancing between them "W-why would you like to know those things? I'm sure each of your nations has a different economy and you may charge your students whatever you…"

"Because we would very much like to spend one semester here to personally witness what university-level schooling is like," Azula said, smiling in an unpleasant way at the older man. The Rector's jaw dropped.

"In short… mind if we become students at your school, for a few months?" Sokka asked, with a grin not too different from Azula's.

The Rector instinctively wanted reject their request: something about the pair before him was unsettling now. His gut told him they might end up causing chaos, havoc of all sorts on his beautiful, pristine university… but his fear of the political consequences was stronger than his sense. If he refused, wouldn't that cause plenty of strife too, who knew if even a new war where the Fire Nation and Water Tribe might join forces to demand they were allowed to partake in Ba Sing Se's education and knowledge if they so pleased…? The Avatar might end up involved, too, and he didn't want to deal with that, not at all…

So, he smiled awkwardly… and he said yes.

...

"You… what?" Zuko said, staring at Azula in disbelief as she sat in his study, with a perfectly pleased grin. "You're going to enroll in Ba Sing Se University? You're… but why? Azula, you don't have to go that far to figure out whatever you wanted to figure out about education, do you?"

"I probably don't, but this is a better way to be thorough about the matter," Azula said, with a shrug. Zuko scoffed.

"You don't have some underlying purpose here, do you?"

"Oh, not this again…"

"Azula…"

"I'm hiding something? Well, I might be: it's not something that should worry you at all, though," Azula said, rolling her eyes. Zuko huffed.

"You know, I'd like to trust you, but you make it too damn hard sometimes," he shook his head, running his hands over his face. "What is going on? Until you tell me, I'm not going to ask Kuei for an extended permit for you to be in his city and without it…"

"They'll hunt me down and kill me. How nice of you, Zuzu," Azula huffed, rolling her eyes. "Your… friend."

"My friend?"

"The Water Tribe peasant," Azula hissed. Zuko blinked blankly.

"Which one?" he asked, slowly.

"The fool who constantly tries to earn my respect by losing it," Azula said, rolling her eyes. Zuko raised an eyebrow. "He's up to the same thing I was. We were… stuck doing the tour together. And one thing led to another…"

"Words that usually precede something very different than what I'm sure you're about to say…" Zuko said, grimacing. Azula scoffed.

"Get your head out of the gutter, brother: we challenged each other to prove our superiority."

"You… you did what?"

"I'll get better grades than him in one semester of studying in Ba Sing Se University," Azula said, simply. "In the process, I'll see the functioning of the university in-depth, up close, far closer than what I saw in this single visit. We'll both profit off this, and I'll finally ensure your irksome friend learns to stop pestering me. Understood?"

"I… I mean, objectively, I get it, but that's insane, Azula!" Zuko said, grimacing.

"Come on, Zuzu: you can start all the educational reforms you already had in mind, right?" Azula said, with a shrug. "I'm the one who said we had to go further with university-level education. Therefore… you have six months to proceed with your intended plans without me bothering you. Isn't it a dream come true for you?"

"Well… it's not a terrible idea," Zuko grunted – it was reassuring to have Azula advising him, admittedly, for she was sharp enough to catch everything that slipped past Zuko's immediate vision with any project he set out on. But admittedly, her advising, effective as it might be, always came with a set of mockery and dismissiveness Zuko frankly hadn't learned to deal with any more effectively in the present than he had in the past…

"If so, why not?" Azula said, with a dry grin. "Come on, just enjoy being free from me for six months. I'll be back to torment you before you know it, and in that time, I'll ensure to gather enough knowledge to build ourselves the best university in this planet. How about it?"

Zuko sighed. The whole matter of her competition with Sokka sounded rather stupid, in his opinion – as he had learned after a lifetime of knowing Azula, and over a decade of knowing Sokka, smart people were actually absurdly prone to clinging to the stupidest ideas. But if that was truly her sole underlying motive, rather than anything dangerous – and indeed, knowing his sister, she might be making this wild choice out of slighted pride and nothing more – then he had little to worry about, right?

"You… you'll stay in the Jasmine Dragon?" Zuko asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula scoffed.

"No," she said, pointedly. Zuko rolled his eyes. "There's dorms in the university, I have no reason to go elsewhere. That way, I can…"

"Find out what university dorms are like. Right," Zuko sighed. "Well, then… I'll finance part of your big expedition if I must. You have savings of your own, don't you?"

"I do… but what I need from you, primarily, is for you to handle the Earth King and his squeamishness," Azula said, with a dry grin. Zuko nodded. "You'll do it, then?"

"I'll try, at least. If he asks that I allow him to keep lots of soldiers watching you, though…" Zuko said, raising his eyebrows. Azula rolled her eyes.

"At least make them watch from a distance. The other students will be unnerved enough by my presence as it is," she said. Zuko sighed.

"I'll try. But be careful anyway. This… this isn't something to take lightly," Zuko said, shaking his head. "My sister, going to Ba Sing Se University…"

Azula smirked, nodding upon hearing Zuko uttering the words with disbelief. It was a strange feeling to return to schooling now… she had never thought she would, displeased by her education in the Royal Fire Academy for Girls as she had been. But this was something greater, a much better challenge she would take up proudly, proving herself to that irksome, disrespectful man who, in the face of her perfect scores in exams and schoolwork, would finally surrender and admit defeat, whether he wished to or not…

...

"You… want to enroll in Ba Sing Se University?" Hakoda said, staring at his son in confused disbelief. Sokka pouted.

"Look, I know it's not what you wanted me to do, you hoped I'd stay a while longer to help out with governing the tribe and everything, but…!"

"I do want that, but you're a grown man and you make your own choices," Hakoda sighed, though his disappointment was apparent. "Still… do you really think you need to do this? Are the inner workings of a university so difficult to grasp?"

"It's… well, a little more complicated than that," Sokka admitted, gritting his teeth. "You see…"

"Oh, no. It's a girl, isn't it?" Hakoda sighed. Sokka winced.

"I… w-well. I mean… wait, in what sense are you trying to…?"

"You and Suki called it quits years ago, so I suppose it's only natural that you'd find another girl in time, but if you met her in the university on a single visit… are you sure you need to spend a whole semester there to get to know her?" Hakoda asked, uneasy. "I'll understand if you feel a connection there, but…"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Sokka exclaimed, waving his hands around to stop his father's rambling. "That's… not it. Not exactly. I mean, there is a girl, but that's not the kind of girl it is. And I didn't meet her just now, and she… hates me. And I don't like her one bit either. And I want to prove her wrong about me, and show her that I'm way cooler and smarter than she has ever thought I was, and…"

"Wait, what?" Hakoda blinked blankly. "A… girl you dislike? You're throwing off your plans for the next six months over… a girl you don't like? Sokka, that doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't if you look at it that way!" Sokka squeaked, blushing. "Okay, Dad, it's… it's Azula."

"A… Azula. Zuko's sister, Azula?" Hakoda repeated, staring at Sokka in utmost confusion.

"She's up to the exact same thing I am," Sokka said, gravely. "And that means they're going to build their own university and pretend they're more advanced than everyone else by doing it, because they can't stand being outdone by the Earth Kingdom, worse yet if they're outdone by us, right? So…"

"So, you're going to compete with her regarding… who spreads education and preparation for professionals faster across your respective nations?" Hakoda asked. Sokka shrugged, with a sound of agreement with his father's words. "Well. Better to fight by building up your nations than tearing them down, I suppose… but this is still very strange, Sokka. I'm not going to tell you what to do with your life…"

"You're not, but you're going to judge me for it, if just a bit. Right?" Sokka sighed. Hakoda raised an eyebrow.

"I'm simply saying… I wouldn't spend six months of my life clashing with a girl I don't like," he said. Sokka's eyes widened. "I mean… perspective, my boy. Perspective."

"What does that…?" Sokka blinked blankly, as his father offered him a dry grin and continued to work on the trade statements he had been composing before Sokka entered his study.

His father wasn't telling him no, but he did tell him that chasing a girl for six months just out of a sense of rivalry was incoherent, right? So… did his father imply he should be chasing Azula for other reasons? The very notion was utterly perplexing. She was beautiful, of course, he wasn't blind, but… that didn't have to mean anything, did it? She hated him, after all. This entire matter was simply about proving himself better than she believed him to be… better than her, if possible. A semester spent doing that might be too long… but he would earn her respect and force her to earn his own, too – for that was a two-way street after all. At last, their strategic and intellectual capacities would be put to the test on equal standing… and they would determine who was superior indeed, for once and for all. That was what he'd return to Ba Sing Se shortly for… and any suspicions that he might have romantic feelings for Azula were utterly out of place. He would focus on studying, on professionally assessing that university, and on crafting his own plans to build the Water Tribe's own top-billed university… and one day, Fire Nation people would flock to them to learn from the scholars in the South Pole. One day, they would have no choice but to forsake their pride and accept they had been outdone…

And that day would arrive for Azula far sooner than it would for the rest of her nation, Sokka would see to that.

...

The first day of class found Azula sitting close to the front rows while Sokka picked a seat further back in the classroom. They shot each other sharp glares as he passed her by – because, of course, she had arrived earlier than everyone else – and they were determined to ignore each other for the remainder of the session. Once sitting back where he was, though, Sokka noticed the other students eyed Azula warily, mumbling among themselves. A few of them seemed to recognize him too, but not nearly as many as those who recognized Princess Azula, the one-time conqueror of Ba Sing Se…

A pang of worry took root in his chest at that. Worry that he shouldn't have been feeling, not at all – she had been the one who had suggested this after all, she was no fool, she had to know exactly what the risks would be. And yet he wondered if she had underestimated the Earth Kingdom citizens and their likely resentment towards the person who had claimed their city and stolen it from their nation's grasp…

"Settle down, settle down…" the history teacher said, stepping into the classroom and setting down his bags carelessly by the desk: the other students found their seats quickly, and with that, the class began.

The man's lesson wouldn't be too thorough on the first day, Sokka suspected as much, but he took notes quite eagerly all the same – Azula, he realized, was doing the same thing. Some students were simply talking among themselves, others were sleeping, a few were paying attention, and the teacher simply kept talking, explaining the timeline of Earth Kingdom history they would be learning about through the semester.

"… After Chin the Conqueror's failed full conquest of the Earth Kingdom, we'll move forward to the commoners' revolt against the 46th Earth King. Then we shall study the 47th Earth King's policies, such as the formation of the Dai Li, a force assembled by our monarch to protect the cultural heritage and interests of the city…"

Azula had stopped writing. Sokka only noticed it because so had he.

The two of them stared at the man who continued to drag his chalk across the blackboard, failing to notice the way his most attentive students had reacted to his latest words. He kept talking and he didn't stop doing so at all until the class's period ended – that he only had needed a couple of swigs of water from his bottle after talking non-stop for hours was certainly impressive.

The other students almost ran out of the classroom. The teacher, too, left it quickly. Sokka picked up his things, frowning as he glanced at Azula with uncertainty. He approached her slowly, though, stopping right beside her to find her frowning with irritation… and he confirmed, too, that she had stopped taking notes exactly where he had.

"Something wrong?" he asked. Azula winced, glancing up at him quickly before closing the notebook.

"Nothing you'd understand," she said, shaking her head. "I suppose I expected something else from a historian. But it shouldn't be too surprising that there's…"

"Revisionism?"

Azula froze as she stood up. She glanced at him in perplexity, and Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't the forty-seventh Earth King who founded the Dai Li," Sokka started. "It was…"

"Avatar Kyoshi."

They spoke the name at the same time, and a strange flow of understanding rushed between them. Azula huffed, and Sokka huffed as he let out a soft laugh as she brought a hand to her forehead.

"It's not just me, then…" she said, shaking her head. "You knew that too, did you?"

"I read about it in Ba Sing Se's Palace," Sokka explained, with a shrug. "In a document in…"

"Long Feng's office," Azula finished. Sokka blinked blankly. "I… I went through those too. Well, the ones that were scattered carelessly, I wondered if there was anything of use in them when I took over the place and…"

"So, you picked up the ones I left lying about?" Sokka smiled. "That's kind of funny. So, in a way, it was I who taught you…!"

"Shut up," Azula huffed. Sokka snickered deviously. "But then… you knew about this too, right? Your girlfriend, she would have to know as well, wouldn't she?"

"Eh?" Sokka said, with a shrug. "To be perfectly honest, Kyoshi Island's a bit keen on worshipping Kyoshi, goes without saying, so… might be they didn't want to acknowledge their big hero's mistakes. Also? We're not together anymore, haven't been for a while, so… I probably shouldn't just send her a letter to ask her if this is true or not."

"Heh. That would be uncomfortable, I imagine," Azula said. Sokka shrugged but nodded. "Well, then. Thank you for confirming I'm not losing my mind, I suppose… I expected a place like this one would be unaffected by political alignments. I'm no stranger to revisionist history, of course, there's been no shortage of it in the Fire Nation, but still…"

"Well, I haven't had much of that problem in the Water Tribe, myself," Sokka said, with a proud smirk. Azula rolled her eyes and glared at him.

"Oh, really?" she said. "I bet Avatar Kuruk has some shady past no one knows anything about. It'd explain why he's so irrelevant and why nobody ever talks about him, huh?"

"Not like that affects me much, because he was from the north, not the south, so… ha," Sokka said, smirking proudly. Azula snorted, shaking her head. "For that matter, I bet Avatar Roku's got a lot of shadier stuff going on than…"

"That doesn't bother me in the slightest, actually," Azula said, with a dry grin. Sokka's smile waned quickly. "Roku made a fair share of mistakes and I'm not afraid of calling them out. Your point?"

"I… well, I wish you'd had that attitude with your other great-great-grandpa or however many generations there were," Sokka huffed. Azula sighed.

"I didn't always. I take more issue with his policies and choices nowadays," she said, simply. "The years didn't pass me by in vain… maybe they did with you, though. You still act and sound much like you did when you were an annoying teenage boy…"

"Hey! You don't sound or act much differently than you did back then either!" Sokka scoffed: Azula smirked as she made her way out of the classroom, and Sokka followed her, grumbling behind her. "Anyway, don't misunderstand, alright? I'm only talking to you about any of this because I noticed you reacted when he said what he said. So… we're still enemies."

"Always," Azula sighed dramatically. "I don't expect all our classes to deal disappointing blows like this one did, so… we'll carry on with our usual hostility then."

"Damn right," Sokka said, stubbornly. Azula smirked as she marched to her left. "Uh… where are you going?"

"Class?" Azula said, slowing down and glaring at him pointedly. "And I certainly hope your rambling won't keep me from arriving on time, so…"

"But the next class is over at the other building," Sokka said, pointing to the right. "Engineering is…"

"What?" Azula froze. "Engineering?"

"Well, yeah, that's the next…"

"I didn't sign up for any classes in the Engineering department," Azula said: her voice almost made it sound like the very notion of her joining any classes in that faculty was entirely out of place. Sokka's cheeks flushed.

"W-wait… what class do you have now, then?"

"Ancient art?" Azula said, with a shrug. Sokka's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Which… you, of course, didn't sign up for."

"No. I signed up for history, mechanical design, advanced calculus, geography and poetry," Sokka said. Azula huffed.

"Poetry? You?"

"What about it?!" Sokka squeaked, face flushed. Azula chuckled, shaking her head… though her amusement receded quickly.

"We… only share one class," she said, staring at him again. "I'm in history, ancient art, historical bending, traditional literature and introduction to anthropology."

"Wait, really?" Sokka blinked blankly. "Uh… huh. Then, our big challenge…"

"We probably should have discussed which classes we would take before jumping into this, huh?" Azula said, with a dry grin. Sokka huffed.

"We'll be able to measure our grades anyhow," Sokka said. "We can compare grades from different classes and…"

"And what if they're objectively of different difficulties?" Azula asked, skeptical. "It would give one of us an unfair advantage over the other to go about it this way. No… we'll focus on history only for our challenge, and that's final. The circumstances allow for nothing else… and, again, I won't be late because of you. Goodbye."

"Az-…!" Sokka started, but she had already stormed off. He groaned, shaking his head before turning to leave the building, on his way to his next class.

Their competition would be simpler, then, Sokka supposed… but a strange tingling feeling stuck with him once he entered the assigned classroom for mechanical design in the Engineering department. Some of the students looked at him with amazement, and gossip started right away… there were people who knew who he was, just as they knew who Azula was. But where he was a hero… she was a villain. He expected Azula would be alright, she could handle herself without a hitch on a battlefield and she knew how to navigate social, political waters far better than he did. And yet a needling, twitching discomfort settled in his gut…

The semester proceeded as smoothly as could be, if with odd tension between Sokka, Azula and the rest of the student body. Where both the outsiders had come to the university in hopes to both put their competition to rest and to understand the inner workings of such institutions, many of their classmates misunderstood their intent. A lot of them invited Sokka to parties, and he joined the first one for courtesy's sake only to conclude he was never doing that again – most these students were at least five years younger than him, and it seemed their idea of fun wasn't quite what he would have in mind, with far too much drink and too little food to go around. Azula, on the other hand, received no invitations anywhere. It didn't seem strange to Sokka that she would be a loner on campus, but he couldn't help the occasional pang of concern for her sake, no matter how expected this outcome had been. She sat on the first rows of their history class, and nobody would sit on any adjacent seats, giving her a wide berth and even shooting her furtive glares or giggling at who knew what devious jokes they made at her expenses. She was too perceptive not to notice this, Sokka knew… but she reacted to none of it, regardless.

But the months went by, their academic efforts and investigative duties paid off individually, and all seemed to proceed favorably for the two of them… until it was time for the final assignment in history class.

"It's a group assignment," the teacher announced, and both Azula and Sokka tensed up. "Make teams of two or three, tops. I don't want to grade that many essays, honestly… I thought more of you would have dropped out of class by now. Happens every year, so… uh, anyway: I will list the subjects on which you may write your essays, and I expect you to bring something new to the table with them. I don't want you to simply repeat what I told you through class: investigate deeper and offer me information that I didn't provide you here. Understood?"

Everyone nodded and the teacher proceeded to write a list of potential topics for the assignment on the blackboard: Sokka's eyebrow twitched upon glimpsing the foundation of the Dai Li among them. Oh, he was taking that one. He certainly had new information he could offer the teacher on that front…

"… Wait, but what about him?" he heard the whispers of a few students on his right. He didn't look at them, even if he focused on their voices.

"Well, I could partner up with him, you know?" said one guy. "Imagine getting to be friends with him, and then with the Avatar! Bet they throw bigger and better parties over at Republic City, haha…"

"But you said you'd be a team of three with us…!"

"And I want to be the one who asks him! Maybe he should be my partner rather than yours, you always said he's the more boring war hero out of them all, so…"

"I didn't say 'boring', I just meant… well, you know, he's not a bender, so…"

Sokka's eyebrow twitched even further by then. He was tempted to stomp up to the teacher and tell him he'd do his work alone…

A glance in his direction, however, revealed someone else was doing just that.

"Uh… how about we ask around to see if someone else doesn't have a team yet?" the teacher said to Azula, who had stood up and approached him as he wrote on the blackboard. "It always happens, I'm sure you can work with another student…"

She seemed moments away from retorting, from saying she didn't want to be part of any teams, let alone with people who clearly wanted nothing to do with her… but she didn't have the chance to do so.

For Sokka had stood up from his seat and approached the teacher, knowingly.

"Sooo… I was thinking about doing my essay on my own," he said: his voice startled Azula, who shot him a disbelieving glare. "Is that okay?"

"Ah! See? You two even know each other, as far as I'm aware…" the teacher smiled at Azula, who grimaced as she met Sokka's skeptical stare. "You can work together!"

"I… would rather not," Azula said, pointedly. Sokka huffed.

"So would I, but it's the teacher's orders, right?" Sokka said, with a shrug. "Sorry, but you're stuck with me now."

Azula eyed him warily: she had to suspect he had an ulterior motive in mind… he'd probably explain it eventually. But for now, she simply held her tongue for a moment before sighing in surrender.

"Fine," she said, stepping up to Sokka. "But if you purposefully sabotage the final essay just to mess with me…"

"I want to get good grades as much as you do," Sokka grunted, glaring pointedly at her. "This is a win-win situation for the two of us, so, you know, don't be such a grump: that's supposed to be your brother's job."

"I'm not…" Azula started, but she huffed again: Sokka smirked upon recognizing he had outdone her in this particular discussion. "This won't happen again, is all I'm saying."

"Evidently. It's the final assignment and we're only here for one semester, so…" Sokka said, with a shrug. Azula sighed and nodded.

They took their seats again, and the teacher asked each team about their preferences for the essay: it didn't surprise Sokka that both he and Azula would have the very same idea in mind. They requested the topic of the creation of the Dai Li, and they agreed to meet after class in order to write the essay – Azula told Sokka that she hadn't found many sources for what they knew to be true, but she had borrowed many books from the library and there was a convincing document in one of them that they could quote in their essay to justify their work's hypothesis.

It was sundown when they met again, and Azula had no choice but to lead Sokka to her dorm room: it was the all-girls dorm, and boys typically only visited them furtively. A lot of girls made unnecessary noise and fuss as Sokka walked past them, though many others simply gaped at Azula warily as she strode, head held high, towards the stairs.

"Considering you're always sitting at the front of the class, as if you were trying to be close to the door to get out at once? I'm surprised your dorm room isn't right by the front door too," Sokka said. Azula hummed – they had climbed five stories by then, and she kept going higher. "Why did you pick such a distant room if…?"

"I didn't: it was assigned to me. And actually? Wait here for a moment," Azula said: they reached the sixth story, and only one more set of stairs was left: Sokka frowned, for it looked like an old attic rather than another proper floor of regular dorm rooms.

"That's… that's where your room is?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged enigmatically as she stepped up the staircase… though she did it very carefully.

She probed each floorboard cautiously, moving in zigzags and even taking two steps at once. Maybe she was paranoid…

Or maybe she had every right to be, Sokka realized, when he gazed up at the ceiling to find a bucket full of some sleazy, black substance was dangling right above her head.

"Azula…!"

"Don't… break my focus," Azula said, curtly. Sokka winced. "It's not important. It's but another challenge, so…"

"Please tell me you're the one doing this to yourself and that it isn't the other girls in the dorm who…"

"Evidently, I wouldn't challenge myself not to trigger a bucket full of ink to fall on me just for my own amusement somehow," Azula said, bluntly. "It's embarrassingly wasteful… but I can repurpose some of it before it dries, provided I can take down the trap safely."

"Azula, has this been happening to you all semester?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged: she hugged the wall carefully now, after detecting something worrisome near the center of the stairs' floorboards.

"It's gotten more intense as time goes by, if you must know," she said. "But it's unimportant. They'll only succeed if I allow them to believe that their tantrums affect me on any level. My actions and choices, my triumphs and achievements, still torment them quite so constantly that they feel the need to take petty revenges such as these…"

She reached the end of the staircase and drew her hairpin out of her top-knot, causing her hair to cascade down her back as she slid the pin through the door she pushed open very cautiously and slowly. She focused again fully, ignoring Sokka's presence until she finally found something with her hairpin. The bucket swung slightly suddenly, but Azula pushed the door open regardless: she kept the bucket's rope taut with her hairpin at first, her full hand later on.

"Very well: feel free to climb up. And don't worry, I won't dump this on you, we can use some of that ink to write the essay," Azula said, simply. Sokka grimaced, and even if he did as she told him to, he climbed by hugging the wall just in case she changed her mind. "Anyway, their actions won't be a burden for me forever. This is insignificant in the face of what I accomplished…"

"Which was, admittedly, a pretty nasty thing to do to the Earth Kingdom?" Sokka said, with a dry grin, once he reached her. Azula shrugged as she began undoing the rope system that held the bucket in place.

"If you'll be preachy and moralistic about it, certainly. War is what it is, however," she said. "Had any of them been in my shoes, they would have sought to achieve the same thing I did. They're quite lucky that they get to purge their own souls and frustrations by taking them out on me, wouldn't you say?"

"Lucky?" Sokka repeated, watching as the bucket slid safely, lower, down to one of the steps. "Look, we've all done things we're not that proud of. Most these kids we're studying with were barely ten when you and I were out fighting wars. They don't understand what it really means to be in one…"

"And you'd disagree with the notion that they're quite lucky for that?" Azula asked. Sokka unfastened the rope, and the bucket was no longer a threat to either of them. "They're the first generation that gets to live freely from the military demands of their nation… though, to be frank, Ba Sing Se hardly had to struggle compared to the rest of the Earth Kingdom. All thanks to Long Feng and the Dai Li… which brings to mind that we should start discussing how we'll handle that rather than worrying about whoever set up this nonsense."

"Look… I get that you want to focus on work, but you really shouldn't be putting up with this," Sokka said, stepping through the room's threshold.

He joined Azula in the dark room – she was lighting her candles right now, shedding light on the old, damaged furniture, the decayed sheets, and even a few pots in which trickling droplets of water fell at a rhythm, giving away that there were leaks on the ceiling. Azula scoffed, eyeing him skeptically as he grimaced at the poor state of the room.

"If I outdo you in these circumstances, I will further prove myself in our foolish little contest," Azula said. "And you should be thriving in it, if anything. I was under the impression that you disliked me even more than the locals do, so…"

"Wait, now…" Sokka grimaced, running a hand over his hair. "I… I dislike them way more than I dislike you, actually."

"You… what?" Azula blinked blankly. Sokka smiled awkwardly. "The hero worship isn't all that agreeable with you, is it?"

"Heh. The conditional, bullshit hero worship?" Sokka said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not young enough to enjoy the stuff they enjoy anymore, to begin with… but to make matters worse, they think I'm the 'boring' war hero because I'm not a bender. I totally should be stoked about that, shouldn't I?"

Azula actually let out a wicked laugh upon hearing those words… one that Sokka might have taken offense to, if only he hadn't sensed something was different about that laughter, compared to the ones he had heard from her before.

"The boring one… that's something," she smiled. "And I'm sure you've attempted to tell them that your friends would have likely wound up dead within a month or less if you hadn't been there to do all the thinking for them…?"

"Actually, I haven't. Because they only say that shit when they're talking behind my back," Sokka smiled tensely. Azula sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, it's still true that they would have wound up dead, in my opinion, for whatever that's worth," Azula said. "I'm surprised you're not simply taking it upon yourself to change their minds about you, though. You're this keen on proving me wrong about you… why not do the same with them?"

"I… I guess it's personal with you," Sokka said, blinking blankly and eyeing her warily. Azula smirked.

"That's almost flattering to know. Anyway, that's enough about that: here's the book I meant."

She showed him the documents she had procured from the local libraries, and Sokka frowned as he started to study them. Azula started explaining her reasoning, and how what he was reading related to the common understanding of the subject… but after about a minute, Sokka huffed and shook his head.

"You know what? Maybe you really are too powerful for the likes of me," Sokka said: he shot a glare at the vases by the furniture, and Azula snorted at his words. "How the hell can you focus with that stupid dripping sound just going on and on and on…? We can at least get the rector to fix the ceiling, can't we?"

"Well, I don't see the need…"

"Come the hell on. You're even more likely to get annoyed by these things than I am," Sokka huffed, staring her down skeptically. Azula sighed.

"I… have had four months, give or take, to adapt to the circumstances," she said. "Therefore, I no longer pay attention to the noise. It's even… soothing. Therefore…"

"You're really leaning hard on the whole 'I'm not letting them get to me' angle, aren't you?" Sokka said, hands on his hips. "Look… come to my room. I don't have a roommate because I expressly requested to be alone after I saw how these people acted, so…"

"Oh?" Azula blinked blankly. "Did you have one and they disappointed you that badly?"

"Well… yeah," Sokka grimaced. "He was specifically a Toph fan. It started out more or less okay… then the conversation topics he brought up started to feel borderline creepy. So I told the rector to move me to another room, because I wasn't comfortable sharing rooms with some guy who kept asking me unsettling, intimate details about one of my best friends. I still have a second bed in that room, so… if you want to crash there altogether, you can do that too."

"That's, well… unnervingly generous of you," Azula said, staring at Sokka skeptically. "I thought you'd be scared that I might try to harm you while you're conscious, but you're willing to be around me while you're unconscious too? That's bold of you."

"Maybe it is, but… look, have they been assholes to you during class?" Sokka asked. Azula raised an eyebrow. "I know they're not exactly nice in History, but…"

"But are they worse in the others?" Azula said. "Well… it's more or less the same. I suppose the dorms are worse than classes, in general. Still… you're not seriously feeling sorry for me, are you? We're enemies, sworn, mortal enemies, so…"

"Right… but my victory will feel weak if I took it while you weren't in optimal conditions," Sokka said, stubbornly. "In fact, I'm sure you're going to say that it's not even valid because of the suboptimal conditions, so… all the more reason to at least give you a more relaxing environment to dwell in for the last weeks of the semester."

Azula eyed him with uncertainty, and Sokka waited for her to give him an answer. She opened her mouth, closed it again, did the same thing about five times… before huffing and folding her arms over her chest.

"I'll inspect your dwelling first, then. If you're too messy, I'm not going to stay there," Azula said, stubbornly. Sokka smiled.

"Fine. You be the judge, but we'll write the essay there anyway. This place is unnerving," he said.

They gathered Azula's stack of research documents and carried them – along with the ink bucket – all the way to the men's dorms. Most guys there shot Azula odd stares, a few even whistled mockingly as they passed, and some congratulated Sokka as he rolled his eyes and opened the door to his private room.

"I suppose every woman who comes into the men's dorms is a victim of that undignified treatment?" Azula asked, staring at Sokka skeptically. He sighed, shaking his head.

"I've heard them do it to other guys a few times so far. I kind of thought they'd be too scared to do it with you, since you're you, but… apparently not," Sokka said, letting out a deep breath. "Anyway… here it is. A bedroom without leaks."

Azula studied it intently, no doubt keen on finding flaws worth mocking Sokka over, all be it to tell him he was mismanaging his room, perhaps… she set the books on his desk, though, and shot him a judgmental stare from the corner of her eye.

"I suppose this is decent," she said. "But I'll still have to think on your offer. Putting up with those fools and their whistling sounds like a pain."

"Yeah, I guess it would be one," Sokka acknowledged, smiling as he set down the ink bucket carefully. "Anyway, let's get cracking. Want to do the honor of writing it yourself, or…?"

"We have to develop the structure first, so we'll see who has the better handwriting after we handle that," Azula said, taking his desk's chair while Sokka sat down by the edge of his bed. "You don't write an essay by sheer impulse and relentless motion. We'll think this through… especially considering we have to demonstrate something our professor is utterly unaware of, going by what our lessons suggest."

"Alright, alright. Let's see what your essay-writing system looks like," Sokka smirked, leaning back on his bed as he defied Azula with a jerk of his head.

Their work on the essay had to be handled along with the rest of their final exams: they met once every two days, further cementing and discussing their information on the subject, before they finally composed the essay together. It surprised Azula to find a perfectionist in her partner, one who seemed to second-guess his wording choices frequently, always seeking a better way to convey his thoughts. Before she knew it, she was giving him her opinion on his poetry assignments, while he offered her his own on a painting she had crafted, attempting to recreate a certain technique developed by Earth Kingdom artists from five centuries ago. And while she didn't move to his room permanently, Azula still wound up sleeping on the room's second bed a few times before the semester ended – rumors spread alarmingly quickly across the school about their apparently intimate connection, but much as Azula didn't acknowledge the vindictive practices of the spoiled girls in her dorms, Sokka didn't offer his attention to the spoiled boys in his, either.

The day of turning in the essay arrived indeed, and by then, genuine respect appeared to be brewing between them. Sokka turned in their work, one of the denser essays of the class, and he smiled complicitly at Azula as he returned to his seat. She nodded lightly in his direction as he passed beside her.

The results, then, were unveiled a week later: both Azula and Sokka were anxious as the professor left their essay for last, summoning the two of them to speak with him at his desk while the rest of the class was leaving…

"Look, your work was quite impressive," he said, smiling nervously at the two most dangerous students in his class. "There's no denying your prose is quite powerful, and you certainly investigated deeply, but… you may have been somewhat careless about your sources."

"Careless?" Azula said, raising her eyebrows.

"The primary author you chose is well-known for his embellishment of matters, I know I couldn't expect you to know this, but the lack of further evidence that Avatar Kyoshi had any connection to the Dai Li suggests that…"

"Wait, so you think we failed at your assignment?" Sokka asked, staring at the professor skeptically. "Are you trying to say that you don't believe in the power of proper historical investigations, by any chance?"

"I do believe in it, but I don't believe that's what happened here, if I may say so myself," the professor blurted out, eyeing them nervously. "I… can give you a passing grade, for your efforts were quite commendable, but the outcome is…"

"A passing grade?!" Sokka squealed. Azula scoffed, glaring at the man.

"That's unacceptable," she said. "We followed your every indication in order to investigate matters properly, didn't we? If the rest of the historians have been covering up Kyoshi's mistakes, that's on them, not us. We have evidence…"

"You have… circumstantial evidence, at best, but it may very well be a coincidence instead," said the professor.

"We…!" Sokka started, huffing before glaring at the man in a surprisingly threatening way. The professor winced, taking a step back before Sokka turned to Azula with a stern frown. "You know what? We do have evidence. Really strong evidence."

"We… wait," Azula held his gaze, raising an eyebrow as Sokka smiled dangerously. "You don't mean…"

"Professor! Do you mind joining us on a brief trip?" Sokka said, hands on his hips: his sudden change of mood was utterly unconvincing, for the teacher remained deeply daunted by the much taller, notoriously dangerous warrior in his room. "It shouldn't take us longer than a couple of hours…"

"I-I would rather not…"

"Don't be such a worrywart! Just join us, just join us…!"

It was clear that the professor expected them to drag him into an alley and threaten him with direct violence, so his unwillingness to join them decreased when Sokka and Azula marched together, with him standing between them, to the nearest train station in Ba Sing Se. The professor was genuinely surprised when they boarded a train leading deeper into the heart of the city…

His shock was stronger yet when they arrived in Ba Sing Se's Royal Palace.

"Hello there! You guys know me, I'm Sokka, friends with the King? With the Avatar?" Sokka spoke to the guards by the gates: they shot each other a wary glance before turning towards the warrior once more.

"You… we do know who you are. And we also know who she is," one said, pointing at Azula with a finger quite rudely. She raised a judgmental eyebrow, and they glared at her for it. "She is not welcome in the Palace."

"Uh, I figured you might say that, but she's with me, and so is this guy," Sokka said, gesturing at the trembling, dazed professor. "Look, we only need a moment with the King, once we have what we need, we'll leave. You can keep watch on us the whole time, I promise Azula's not going to do anything dangerous and I'm not going to eat all the contents of your kitchens… just let us through so we can fix a problem going on at the university, alright?"

"Ah… a problem?" said one of the guards. They exchanged a glance: that concept seemed to register as something noteworthy to bring to their king's attention.

"A problem at the university, then…" Azula recited quietly to Sokka, once they were escorted inside by a full squad of twenty guards. Sokka smiled awkwardly. "You do realize the King's bound to be quite alarmed by that wording of yours?"

"I do… but what choice do I have? They weren't going to take me seriously if I told them exactly what was going on," Sokka whispered back. Azula let out a soft chuckle.

"That's almost admirable of you. Keep this up and I might actually respect you before the day is out."

"You say that now, but I think you already do, Princess."

He smirked at her, and she smiled back as they marched through the familiar halls of Ba Sing Se's Palace. The professor seemed close to a nervous breakdown as they walked across the corridors, remarking on all his knowledge of the structure of the building, the date of certain ornaments and portraits, the gold mines from which the more luxurious adornments had likely been crafted…

Until the most luxurious of them all coaxed him to fall silent in utter reverence: Kuei sat on his throne, glaring at Azula nervously as the whole group entered the Throne Room.

"Hey there!" Sokka smiled: Bosco, the king's bear, groaned as a greeting, and Sokka chuckled as the creature marched up to him, asking for attention and affection. "And hi to you too, Bosco. Hope you've been doing well."

"Sokka… my friend. Why have you brought… Azula, my enemy, to my doorstep?" Kuei asked, his voice betraying his utter distrust of the woman. Azula rolled her eyes as Sokka smiled awkwardly.

"You did authorize her to study in your city…"

"Because Fire Lord Zuko requested it, and he agreed to fund further recovery programs across the Earth Kingdom in exchange for her studies," Kuei said, glaring at Azula, who grimaced upon hearing those words. "But that does not mean she was ever authorized to come to my Palace again. I would rather you return to the university at once…"

"We will go back, yeah," Sokka said, with a quick nod. "But… we need your help to sort something out."

"A… conflict between the two of you?" Kuei asked. "If so, I hereby declare you're correct, Sokka, and she is wrong…"

"Oh really? Without even knowing what's going on beforehand?" Azula scoffed, and Kuei immediately winced away from her when he heard her voice. Sokka smiled awkwardly and shook his head.

"Doesn't really work that way, King, because you see… Azula and I are in agreement," he said. Kuei gasped, as though the very notion of anyone agreeing with Azula were unthinkable. "It's our teacher from History class who thinks we're wrong and we're here to prove otherwise."

"U-uh… this is about a class?" Kuei raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

"Well, he's going to give us a passing grade if we don't prove we're not talking out of our asses, which is not fair!" Sokka squeaked, pouting. "So we're here to prove the truth! All I ask is to check some documents that were in Long Feng's office, and if they're still there, it'll only take a moment for us to find them, prove what we have to prove, and clear our names!"

Kuei blinked blankly. He stared at Sokka in utter perplexity, at Azula, whose arms were folded… and the professor, who had dropped face-first on the floor in a deep reverence, unwilling to so much as meet Kuei's gaze. The Earth King sighed before shrugging.

"I suppose, if what you're looking for isn't unreasonable… but you'll be the one looking, Sokka, not her," Kuei pouted. Azula rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. "I don't want her reading any sensitive, important documents!"

"But it's fine if he does?" Azula asked. Kuei huffed.

"Yes, it is," he decided, and Azula rolled her eyes again.

"Well, whatever. That only means you have to put in extra work now, Sokka," Azula said, with a dry grin. Sokka sighed and shrugged.

"Considering that you transcribed the whole essay, I'd think this is a fair trade. I'm getting us our full marks, I promise," Sokka said, firmly. Azula actually smiled at his vow. "Wait here with the professor, I'll be back in a bit…"

"W-wait! You're leaving her here with me?!" Kuei squeaked. Azula sighed at his jumpiness and Sokka gestured at the Earth King with a hand.

"Join me personally and that way you'll be away from her. How about it?"

Kuei accepted Sokka's idea, although he ensured that Azula and the professor wouldn't be in the Throne Room, anyway. The two of them were to wait patiently near the Palace's entrance while Sokka rummaged through the office, trying to sort through documents, looking for a specific file that was likely as good as lost among Long Feng's formerly tidy bookshelves – many people, such as Sokka and Azula, had looked through these documents on occasion since Long Feng's fall from grace, and the result was a much messier bank of information than it used to be.

Three hours of boredom later, though, Azula heard the heavy footsteps of someone marching in their direction: one glace revealed Sokka was back… and to her relief, he had a stack of familiar papers, bound in a green leather cover, in his hands.

"It's here!" Sokka said, his voice hoarse, eyes almost out of orbit as he stomped up to the professor proudly. Azula smiled wildly, turning towards the still starstruck, and now shellshocked man, awaiting his reaction as Sokka offered him the document. "There you go. Proof… and proper evidence. Just as you wanted it."

"Good job finding it," Azula smiled. Sokka sighed.

"I don't know who went through that place recently, but everything's not where it was when I last visited that room," he said. "I'm going to assume it's not your doing…"

"Sokka, it's been over a decade since I took Ba Sing Se, and as is obvious, it's been in the Earth King's control for far longer than it was in mine. It's far more likely that he would be responsible for the mess, if there was one, right?" Azula said. Sokka shrugged.

"Well, I suppose…"

"Are you trying to imply I could be messy?" Azula said, glaring at him skeptically. Sokka snickered softly. "Seriously?"

"I don't know! How am I supposed to know? Could be you're just tidy nowadays, maybe you weren't back then…" he chuckled, and Azula rolled her eyes… though he caught sight of a smile once she turned her face away from him.

They fell silent then, though, watching as the professor read the document quickly. His eyes widened further with each page he read until…

"I… I see. I… I understand now," he said, with a nervous smile. Sokka and Azula grinned knowingly at him. "Goodness, well, this is… quite a shocker. I mean, I suppose there's areas where interpretation is valid, still, and…"

"And even if that's the case, what we wrote in that essay is still provable by official documents, no matter if most historians didn't acknowledge that," Sokka said, with a shrug. "Now, then… passing grade, or full marks?"

"I… yes, yes, of course. Full marks, indeed."

"YES!" Sokka threw a fist in the air before offering Azula a proud handshake – or rather, forearm shake, for he gripped her by the forearm when she was expecting him to clasp her hand. "We've pulled it off, Azula! Our reputations and names are cleared anew!"

"Well… we should give credit where credit's due, and it's certainly due now," Azula said, eyeing him skeptically. "I didn't do anything to clear either thing, after all. So… good work, Sokka, even if it kills my pride to say that it's just your doing, but still…"

"Heh. You praised me? Now that's something else…" he chuckled, and Azula smiled proudly still as she turned to their professor once more.

"I take it you can amend the final grade you gave us on the essay itself, can't you?" Azula said, pulling out the essay from her bag and offering it to the man… who continued to scan the ancient document in his hand, a worried grimace across his face. "Hello?"

"Uh, right. Right. I… I will, though we can take care of it in two days, if you'd like?" he said. "I'll be turning in the final grades for the class by then, so… let's handle it then, shall we?"

"Uh… okay, but are you alright?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula's eyes narrowed.

"It's like he's uncomfortable, for some reason. Is it you don't like that we've disproven something you've been teaching for years?" she asked, nonchalantly. The professor tensed up, and she frowned upon confirming her guess had been spot-on.

"I… I have to think a lot about what this means. And how it… fits within what we know, what was written elsewhere," the man said.

"Well, sure, but this is a very important document that explicitly proves what we have told you," Sokka said, pointing at the green-bound document. "I get that it changes things, but it's history, right? Adapt to the changes and teach the truth now."

"I… cannot quite do that."

Both Azula and Sokka frowned: even the guards, still keeping an eye on the Princess, were perplexed by the man's declaration. He cleared his throat.

"This puts numerous historical accounts into question, you see? It's… it's a complicated situation you've put me in. I need to analyze this with the other scholars, and perhaps they'll agree with me that… that teaching history has enough complications as it is? The Earth Kingdom has many convoluted stages in its history already, saddled with so much internal strife and conflict, and Avatar Kyoshi is a great, heroic figure too, so…"

"So… wait. You're trying to say… you're not going to change anything?" Sokka asked. Azula's eyebrow twitched.

"You'll continue teaching this part of history exactly as you have so far, even if you know it's wrong?" she asked.

The professor's tense smile was a sufficient answer to their questions.

An hour later, Azula and Sokka fumed together in the Jasmine Dragon – it was the first time Azula visited the place ever since she had started attending classes in Ba Sing Se University, but Sokka hadn't known anywhere else where they might unwind after their frustrations over their professor's behavior. Iroh was uneasy over their presence too, aware that Azula was in the city since months ago even if they hadn't met once until today. He approached their table, clearing his throat as Sokka splayed carelessly on his chair, scowling, while Azula crouched over the table, holding her head up with a hand.

"This… is the gloomiest date I've ever seen," Iroh announced: both his customers raised stern glares at him, and he offered them a guilty smile. "Not at date?"

"If it is one, it's a date for mourning," Sokka grunted.

"Mourning… what?" Iroh raised a bushy eyebrow.

"Our respect for the local education system?" Sokka said. Azula huffed.

"I believed the Fire Nation was the one that constantly, actively attempted to rewrite history," she said. "All for the convenience of whoever was in charge at any point in time. I never imagined it'd disturb me this badly to find out other nations do it too."

"Water Tribe doesn't," Sokka huffed. "And I'll make sure it won't when I establish our university."

"I will do the same with the Fire Nation, even if it won't be easy… as shameful as our history may be, the Fire Nation University's history department won't be as self-congratulatory as Ba Sing Se's," Azula huffed, shaking her head.

"What an uphill battle you face," Iroh sighed, shaking his head. "I fear history cannot be fully objective, no matter if you attempt to make it so…"

"At the very least we can stop erasing inconvenient truths just on the basis of them being inconvenient for a political group or another," Azula growled, arms folded over the table. "Zuko has been adamant about not tampering with the truth in the Fire Nation anymore, and as far as I understand, everyone believes it's most noble of him to do so. Nobody is concerned over how the truth about our worst choices might affect the morale of Fire Nation people, so why should different rules apply to the Earth Kingdom?"

"Especially when we're talking about something from so long ago," Sokka huffed. "It's hardly like we're saying the current Earth King Kuei is at fault for the Dai Li's existence or something…"

"Perhaps you should change the subject," Iroh said, with a careless grin. "It sounds like you're both getting yourselves down even further, so how about a fresh batch of tea to…?"

"Sake," Sokka blurted out. Azula snorted as Iroh pouted. "Don't have any?"

"I… suppose I can find some," Iroh sighed. "One bottle only. There's no going overboard with drinks in the Jasmine Dragon, let alone for my niece and my son's friend."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say," Sokka sighed, nodding in Iroh's direction.

The near-empty teashop fell silent again as Iroh walked off, bringing back the bottle and giving them privacy anew afterwards. Both Azula and Sokka remained as moody as before… though their eyes met before long, and they sighed at the same time.

"I suppose at least we redeemed ourselves and didn't get a low score on that essay," Azula said.

"You mean, we shouldn't worry about what this means for the Earth Kingdom's education and only focus on what it means for us on a personal level?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula shrugged.

"When no one around you seems to have any sense, selfishness is the better policy," she determined, sipping her drink – it wasn't to her tastes, but after a semester where nothing had been, it didn't seem like that bothered her much.

"Until you have enough power to change things on a larger scale?" Sokka said. Azula shrugged. "We'll have enough power in our own universities, once we set them up. And… we'll start doing that pretty soon, won't we?"

"We should," Azula agreed, glancing at Sokka almost wistfully. "I won't miss this place that much, but… admittedly, studies on this level are far more enjoyable than what I endured in the Royal Academy for Girls."

"Well, I'd never been in class like this before, myself," Sokka smiled awkwardly. "I adjusted quickly, but honestly, I learned everything from my parents back when I was little, then from my grandmother once I was slightly older. I've had a few mentorships here and there, like with the Mechanist…"

"Ah, the artificer of the train-tank," Azula said, with a weak smile.

"Suits you to speak of it so fondly," Sokka said, eyebrow twitching as Azula laughed. "Anyway, I'm just saying… I'd never had to face this kind of formal education before. But this wasn't that bad, just… sucked because of what happened today. But anyway, we've learned what we need to learn, right?"

"We have," Azula agreed.

"And in the process, maybe we've grown to respect each other a little?" Sokka asked, smirking as he raised his cup. Azula let out a dismissive laugh.

"A little, and that's as far as I'll go," she said, raising her own. "We're still mortal enemies forevermore."

"And I wouldn't want it any other way," Sokka chuckled. "I just want to say… you were a tough competitor, that's for sure. I look forward to finding out who won in our contest…"

"So do I," Azula said: she tapped Sokka's cup with his own, and they drained their contents quickly. "May the better student, and better future university founder, win?"

"May it be so," Sokka smirked.

Azula laughed softly as they spoke anew about the university, about the things they liked and disliked from their experience in Ba Sing Se, and even swapping old stories as if they were, instead of mortal enemies, old friends.

Once they returned to the university's campus, Azula didn't go back to Sokka's room: Sokka smiled wistfully at her as she waved at him from the entrance to the female dorms, and he ensured to enter his own dorms later – it was late, but the sounds of reckless partying gave away that some people were rather excitable about the upcoming end of the semester. Technically, Sokka should be looking forward to it too, even if a strange part of him felt lonesome upon knowing this competition between him and Azula would come to an end soon… a part of him he endeavored to ignore as best as possible, of course. This had already been a whim, the Water Tribe needed him, his father needed him. He had been here long enough, so he'd finish up and go home…

A week later, the final results for all classes were revealed.

Sokka and Azula stood side by side, frozen solid, at the History Faculty's board, where said results had been pinned for all students to see.

All their work, all their efforts, all their attempts to outdo each other had been pointless: they stared at each other in utter chagrin upon confirming their final grade had been the exact same number.

...

"Well. That was… something," Sokka said, sitting by a pond in campus with Azula. She snorted, shaking her head as she rested with an elbow on her flexed knee.

"A draw, then. We've tied for results… top of the class, so we can't really complain on that front," Azula said, with a shrug. "We have honored our respective families and cultures. That is good. That is… right. It's how it must be. You should be proud of your performance."

"And you should be proud of yours," Sokka said, eyeing her skeptically. "You kept up with me, after all. Genius of the Water Tribe?"

"And you with me, the genius of the Fire Nation."

"So, this is… good. It's the best result, right?"

"Yeah. This is… this is good. This works. It makes sense."

"Then we're in agreement."

"We are."

"So, we're doing another semester and settling this competition for once and for all?"

Azula froze in place. A ticklish, rushing sensation bloomed in her gut, reaching up across her body as she shot Sokka a smirk. He smiled back at her, shrugging.

"I'm just saying…"

"If you insist," she said, without even attempting to mask her deviousness. Sokka chuckled, shaking his head.

"Now, this time? We're going to settle it for sure. You'll pick half our classes, I'll pick the other half, and that way, with four or five different classes, we'll definitely get a much more comprehensive result than we did this time," Sokka said, beaming. Azula nodded sagely.

"Perfect. I'll just… let my brother know," she smirked. Sokka bit his lip.

"And I should tell my dad, too," Sokka swallowed hard. "That's… going to be something."

"Is he against this arrangement?" Azula asked. "You could very well tell him you're still getting to understand how to run an institution like this one…"

"I can and I will, but…" Sokka said, with an awkward smile. "He's got it into his head that I'm doing this because I, uh, am interested in… someone. Romantically."

"Oh?" Azula raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Well, it's what he thinks, but that's not what's going on," Sokka laughed, shaking his head. "He just thinks it makes no sense for me to spend six months here over a girl I don't like, so he says it's because I actually, uh…"

"Because you actually like another girl?" Azula finished. Sokka's eyes widened with nervousness as he glanced at her significantly. "What?"

"You're gonna make me say it outright, are you?" he asked. "Azula… he thinks I like you."

Her face flushed. Had she been drinking anything, she would have spat it right out, into the pond.

Instead, she just snorted, leaning forward and covering her mouth with a hand. Sokka smiled sadly, shrugging as she eyed him in disbelief again.

"I told him that's not it, but he doesn't think I'm as professional as I say I am," Sokka sighed. "Anyway, don't mind it much. Because, as you well know, you and I are…"

"Mortal enemies," Azula said, nodding and smirking at him. "But I suppose you could very well fall in love with your mortal enemy, huh?"

"I did no such thing!" Sokka squeaked. Azula chuckled deviously. "Oh, come on! I thought you'd find it funny, but don't use it against me…!"

"Oh, goodness, if you lose against me next semester it'll be because you're in love with me, of course! Letting me win because you're a gentleman, I see!"

"Shut up!" Sokka laughed too, as Azula hugged her belly, tilting sideways under the force of her laughter.

Their choice had been made, however: even if Hakoda and Zuko would be deeply confused, they would have to accept receiving reports and concepts from their respective relatives for now, and they'd only see the two students and future university founders a whole year after their academic journey had begun, from the looks of it.

Their second semester, then, was a lot less lonely than the first one: Azula wound up crashing at Sokka's room more often than not, down to scarcely using her attic room –as she seemed so unaffected by the ill-intended pranks of her fellow students, said pranks slowly drifted out of fashion and stopped happening altogether. The rest of the student body, it seemed, was slightly offput by their apparent closeness, and rumors abounded all across campus that, much like Hakoda believed, Azula and Sokka were actually dating.

The truth was, perhaps, slightly more surreal than that for the sworn mortal enemies: they were friends, even if competitive friends given to too much banter and teasing of each other. But there was no better term for it, even if they hadn't admitted it out loud: Azula joined Sokka in a physics class while he partook in painting with Azula. He chose to carry forward with poetry too, and Azula had enjoyed anthropology as well, therefore, those four classes, along with the next level of history, had become their subjects for their second semester.

Thus, Sokka gave Azula crash courses on many scientific notions she'd need to keep in mind for the physics class, while Azula ensured to teach Sokka the proper basics of painting. She was a far more ruthless teacher than him, of course, but at least his work showed more promise by the time their spring break ended than it had ever before. She, in turn, wasn't quite that keen on poetry, but Sokka encouraged her to try her luck with haiku, settling for simple compositions before trying anything more ambitious. Azula wasn't disappointed at all by Sokka's quick grasp of the basics of anthropology, thus, the two of them were as ready as they could hope to be by the time the semester began, and their progress through class was even smoother this time than before, as they were working together more often than not.

Whether in labs or in actual ruins – the anthropology department had chosen to authorize a brief expedition into the underground tunnels in Ba Sing Se for their class, and Azula was notoriously tense through it, no doubt recognizing the battlefield where she had clinched her victory over the Avatar long ago –, in their room or in the library, they were together more often than not. They even visited Iroh's teashop more often, unlike in their first semester, even if Azula spent most of such visits bickering with her uncle while Sokka laughed carelessly at their arguments. Though Sokka would take a more active role during their visits to the Jasmine Dragon from time to time…

"Now, now, please have some mercy on an old man!" Iroh laughed, a hand on his belly as Sokka smirked proudly: he had cleared the Pai Sho board from all of Iroh's tiles that game.

"Such butchery and violence," Azula said, shaking her head slowly. "The blood of Iroh's tiles spills down the board and all across the floor…"

"Want to turn that into a haiku?" Sokka taunted her. Azula chuckled and shrugged.

"Not a bad idea, admittedly. Now you'll have me thinking about how to compose that one for days," she said.

"Could turn it in for our next assignment, if you're quicker than that about it," Sokka smirked. "Or maybe you ought to get extra inspiration by beating Iroh yourself…"

"I am not interested," Azula said, bluntly. Sokka shook his head as Iroh breathed out in relief. "Pai Sho is… too simple."

"What? Simple?!" Iroh exclaimed, his relief fleeing quickly. "How could a member of my own family say something so horrible?"

"Feel free to disown me, the game won't be any less simple just because you do," Azula smirked, glancing at the Pai Sho board. "I'd rather put my mind to something more challenging than that."

"Maybe it's not the game but the opponents you've faced?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula huffed. "I'm just saying…"

"You're not about to start pretending you and I would be on equal standing in this game, or are you?" Azula asked, skeptical. Sokka smirked.

"Well, I've beaten your uncle thrice in a row… I can't be that bad, can I?"

"Hmm… perhaps you could humble her," Iroh said, stroking his beard. Azula rolled her eyes at his wording. "If someone has the wits to do so, it may just be you, Sokka! Yes, yes, please do!"

"Humble me? Perhaps I should be the one to humble you first," Azula said, scowling at him. "Sokka… off that chair. I'll finish you second, but I'll embarrass my uncle first."

"Ooooh, this is getting serious!" Sokka snickered, rising from his seat and spreading an arm theatrically towards it. Iroh winced, paling quickly.

"I-I, uh… didn't quite mean it like…"

"Oh, you meant it alright, and I'll turn your words against you," Azula smirked, taking her seat and gathering her tiles. "Ready to be humbled, Uncle?"

"I… I will defend my honor as a Pai Sho master," Iroh said, though his voice trembled.

He had to prepare for a most challenging, dangerous duel against the deviously clever mind of his niece. She would give him no quarter, especially because of his foolish wording, but he would fight back. Her strategies and tactics couldn't possibly outdo his decades of experience, so he picked up his first tile, setting it on his strategic position on the board…

Within five minutes, Iroh's hung head gave away that his aspirations to outdo Azula had gone nowhere:

"I resign."

Sokka gasped, staring at the board in utmost astonishment. Azula smirked at him, shrugging carelessly.

"While I certainly enjoyed your figurative bloodbath, Sokka, for it was most wicked of you… victory is, ultimately, what matters," she said, turning her attention to the board again: Iroh had a lot of tiles left, but her choices had seen to the breaking of his possible defensive formations to fend off her initiatives. "How humbled are we feeling now, Uncle?"

"I will go to the kitchen to rethink my life. Good luck defeating her, Sokka," Iroh said, mournfully. Sokka chuckled as the old man rose to his feet, walking awkwardly as though he had actually received a physical beating.

"You really know how to silence someone, huh?" Sokka smiled, taking his seat across Azula as they gathered the tiles anew. "I wonder if you'll beat me just as easily…"

"I wonder if you'll beat me just as violently," Azula said, with a mischievous smirk. Sokka rolled his eyes, smiling at her too.

"Come on, it's a board game. Even if I was mean, it doesn't make me all that violent…"

"Oh, don't be modest now. You cleverly targeted the lesser tiles, the outliers, constantly giving Iroh the hope that, even if the first few tiles didn't offer him the right results, the next ones would do the trick… only to then annihilate everything on his side of the board," Azula smirked. "I admit, I'm quite impressed. It's… greedy, even."

"Next thing I know, you'll say we're more alike than you ever wanted to admit," Sokka smirked. Azula laughed, shaking her head as she made the first move.

"If anything… we're contradictory. Aren't you friends with the pacifist Avatar, who tries to win battles with the least casualties possible?" Azula asked. "Which means you probably had to adjust your strategies so you'd cause the least collateral damage. I assumed that's why your strategy to destroy the drill was as it was…"

"Hmm… I'd love to say you're right, but to be honest, the alternative you suggested that day didn't even cross my mind," Sokka laughed, making his own move, and Azula followed with hers.

"Maybe you were already that deeply caught up in the Avatar's morality system, even without your awareness," Azula suggested.

"Well… you'd think. But I've done some pretty harsh things, myself," Sokka said. "Can't pretend my hands are completely clean, no matter if I still believe my actions were necessary…"

"You were victorious. No need to regret your choices or the path that led you there," Azula said. Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes you do need to. Victory attained by the wrong means is… well, not exactly honorable, I suppose. It'd be like flipping this board, I'd say?" Sokka said. Azula smiled.

"Unfortunately, war is not a controlled, restrained environment where that analogy would be accurate. Personal duels ruled by laws are one thing, all-out war is quite different," she said – Sokka made a tricky move, and she hesitated before making her own, next. "I made the choices I made for the sake of my father and my nation. That I can see that those choices were not correct now doesn't change the fact that I made them anyway. And I wouldn't have cared about right or wrong back then… only about victory. Only about securing the triumphs that would bring the Fire Nation further progress. Hence, we're contradictory: I wouldn't have shed a single tear if I had to annihilate everything in my path to secure victory, back in the day. Whereas you would have sought to attain victory with the least casualties…"

"Which begs the question of why we play Pai Sho by resorting to each other's default strategies, then," Sokka said, staring at Azula pointedly before displacing one of her tiles with his own. Azula smirked.

"Well… it's more efficient this way," she said, with a shrug: Sokka's eyes narrowed upon detecting that he was being trapped… and he made the right choice to cause Azula to snap her tongue. "How shrewd. Not tricked by bait so easily, are we?"

"You'll have to try harder than that," Sokka smiled. Azula chuckled as she proceeded to make her next move.

They continued to speak as they played, discussing their different perspectives further, laughing at their clever responses to each other's moves… until the state of the game became clear to them both. Azula raised her eyebrows, eyeing Sokka skeptically as he chuckled: Iroh, having returned to watch the outcome of their battle, hummed in amazement.

"A stalemate, then?" he said. "That is quite rare…"

"Oh, it's par for the course for the two of us," Azula said, staring at Sokka skeptically. He chuckled and shrugged in response to her assessment.

"And we've humbled ourselves and each other by remembering… that we, apparently, are evenly matched," he said. Azula smiled and shook her head.

"Don't say that, or else this semester will be a waste too. Aren't we trying to outdo each other this time as well?" she asked. Sokka smiled and nodded. "Then fight to the very end, will you?"

"As you wish, Princess," Sokka bowed his head, waving his hand in a pretentious flourish, and Azula chuckled at the sight of it…

Iroh blinked blankly as he stood between them, eyes drifting from one to the next. He whistled carelessly as he walked away, the sound causing both Azula and Sokka to ease up their laughter and camaraderie to watch Iroh with confusion.

"Why's he whistling?" Sokka blinked blankly. Azula huffed.

"I don't know, but he's annoying. We're done here, aren't we?" Azula said, pushing herself up to her feet. "It's getting late, and I have no intentions of waking up late tomorrow…"

"You never wake up late, to begin with," Sokka retorted, and Azula nodded sagely.

"I'd much rather keep it that way, mind you, so… off we go."

They weren't oblivious, not truly, to the misunderstandings their bond elicited from people. At this point, both were bored and tired of explaining they were, in fact, mortal enemies who had challenged each other to obtain better grades in school… and Iroh certainly didn't seem to understand that. As things were, the two roommates rather preferred to ignore outside opinions, focusing only on their competition.

The months drifted by and they helped each other constantly with their studies. They answered letters sent by their respective family, some exclusively professional, some concerned about them on a personal level – Zuko asked Azula, point-blank, if rumors about her apparent relationship with Sokka were just rumors, and she rolled her eyes before giving him the same answer she gave everyone. That they spent most their time together, took all the same classes, went shopping together, helped each other in lessons, and went on outings in the city with each other, didn't have to mean that…

… Well, once she thought of it that way, people's assumptions started to make more sense than she had been willing to give them credit for, so far.

"You know, if we stuck around for another semester, taking that bending class you liked wouldn't be outside the question," Sokka laughed one afternoon, merely a few weeks before that semester ended. They were sitting under a tree's shade, the afternoon light providing Azula with visuals she attempted to recreate in the final painting she wanted to deliver for class… but she couldn't seem to get the right shadow and light contrasts she was looking for. "Could be easier than painting…"

"I'd take both if you weren't so hung up on physics," Azula sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, I would've taken more mechanical design, actually, but that teacher went on sabbatical," Sokka pouted. "Anyway, it's good for you to learn physics…"

"And for you to learn how to paint," Azula said. "Which you did, considering you're already done with your project but I'm not with mine. So… unless you have a better tree to suggest to me, perhaps just take a nap while I finish this."

Sokka was about to rebuff her suggestion, perhaps to say something about not needing a nap at all… but his eyes narrowed when the spark of an idea struck him.

"Say… you want a good tree?" Sokka asked. Azula grunted. "Would you believe me if I said I know of one…?"

"Better than this one?" Azula said, skeptical. Sokka smiled awkwardly.

"I don't know if better, but… it might be more peaceful?" he said. "It's… it's in the Lower Ring. Zuko and Iroh wanted to visit it on the morning after we celebrated the war ended, so… I think I still know how to get there."

Azula's brow furrowed as she lowered her brush. She glanced at Sokka warily as he shrugged.

"If it's not a good idea I'll just shut up…"

"Lu Ten's memorial?" Azula asked. Sokka bit his lip and nodded.

"I don't know if it's painful for you, maybe you were close to him, I don't know, but…"

Azula frowned, falling in silence for a contemplative moment… then she breathed out and rose to her feet. Sokka raised his eyebrows, and Azula jerked her head towards him.

"Come on. We'd better hurry or we'll only get there by dusk."

Sokka smiled, clasping her hand and rising to his feet: he helped Azula gather her equipment and they set out together to the tree that had become Lu Ten's memorial location, long ago.

The sky was bright orange once they got there: Azula laid down under the tree briefly, catching the right glow of light, the contrast between greens and oranges before sitting up and working on the canvas, tweaking her previous work until she composed something far more suitable for her artistic vision. Sokka smiled as he watched her work – he took off, finding them some casual dinner, and they wound up eating it together under the tree after it was too late for Azula to keep working.

"Still… I think I'm on the right track now," Azula said, setting down the piece and sighing heavily. "I'll try to finish it tomorrow."

"Do you have a perfect picture in your mind of what you want it to look like?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.

"Not entirely. Sometimes art is… a little freer than that," she said, dropping against the tree trunk. Sokka sat beside her, and he offered her the bag of gyoza he had bought earlier. "Thanks for buying."

"No problem. They're not as spicy as you'd like them, I bet, but they're not bad," Sokka said. Azula sighed.

"Nothing here is ever as spicy as I want it," she said. Sokka smirked.

"People are bound to misunderstand that, you know?" he said. "What kind of spice is missing in your life, Azula?"

"If you must know, Togarashi chili powder. Yuzu spice paste. Curry powder…"

"Ah, so all food, then?" Sokka said. "Well, good to know…"

"What? Expecting something else, were you?" Azula smirked. "Why, I seem to spend all my nights in the bedroom of a rather imposing, daunting warrior, don't I? That concept alone is spicy enough, isn't it?"

"Sure thing," Sokka chuckled, shaking his head. "I suppose we don't really help things, do we? Spending as much time together as we do these days…"

"Well, you can always ask me for a break, point-blank, you know?" Azula said, with a huff. "I won't be too upset about it, no. It's not like I'm emotionally invested in this mortal enmity of ours, no…"

"I don't believe you," Sokka smiled – to his amusement, so did she. "I don't… want a break, actually. And I mean… it'll be summer break soon. Which means… we're going home again."

"We are," Azula said. "We've been here too long as it is, haven't we? We have important duties to our respective nations, and we ought to fulfill them. That is why we're here, so…"

"Still… I'm going to miss this," Sokka sighed, rustling as he settled better against Lu Ten's tree. "I'm going to miss you."

"You… are?" Azula said, raising her eyebrows. Sokka smiled.

"How about I go visit you and check how your university's progress is going?" he asked. Azula huffed. "I could be there for about a week, no need for more…"

"Heh: you just want to steal my ideas, I know you do," Azula said, stubbornly. "If you go for that, then… I'll only agree to it as long as I can go for one week to your hometown as well, and steal plenty of ideas right back."

"And if I steal nothing?" Sokka smiled. Azula huffed.

"I wouldn't know if you will or won't until I see the progress of your work, so… if you intend to go, I will go see the Water Tribe afterwards anyway. It's not negotiable."

"In short… you're going to miss me too."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to."

They fell into silence then… and to Sokka's surprise, it was Azula who chose to break it, shortly after he resolved to say something and defuse the strange, charged, quiet moment they were sharing.

"You know… I did get along with Lu Ten."

"Did you?" Sokka asked. Azula nodded.

"He was… more mischievous than his father, in the right way. He was probably the most reasonable member of the Royal Family. Zuko and I clashed in every way possible, but… whenever we were around him, things would feel better. Different. He… brought out the best in us, I suppose. I can't help but wonder if he'll do that for me again in this painting… but maybe I don't deserve that, honestly."

"Why wouldn't you?" Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"Because I… I barely mourned him. Because I resented him for dying so easily, or at least, I assumed it was easy," Azula said, with a sad smile. "Because I was an idiot child who… who didn't really understand that I'd never have a chance to talk to him again, or spend time with him, or play games with him anymore. I'd never impress him with what I'd learned in school… I'd never show him what a great firebender I'd become. And instead of letting myself be sad for all those things, once I processed that reality, I just… I just forced myself to resent him for being weak, instead. That's what my father would have done, so… it was what I had to do, too. Worst of all is… he wouldn't have been disappointed with me even if he knew I acted like a brat. He would have likely laughed it off, held me… told me that it didn't matter. But it did. I… I never had come here before and I've lived in this city for a year, I invaded and conquered this place years ago and I still never visited his memorial hill because I… I didn't feel worthy."

"I'm sorry to hear that you felt that way," Sokka whispered, swallowing hard. "Did something change now, though? You could have said no, and we wouldn't have come here…"

"I'm not alone. I think that's what did it."

Sokka's eyes widened as Azula breathed out slowly, closing her eyes.

"I don't know what we're doing, Sokka. I don't know if… if we've been dating for a whole semester without our awareness," she admitted, with a chuckle. "But even if we weren't… you achieve the same thing Lu Ten did, somehow. It feels like you bring out the best in me… even if I doubt I can return the favor."

"You doubt it?" Sokka asked, staring at her in confusion. "You really think you're not doing the same for me?"

Azula blinked blankly, meeting his gaze as Sokka shifted on his seat, angling his body better towards her.

"From the minute we issued out this challenge to each other, I… I've been pushing past my boundaries in ways my sister would have never imagined possible for me," Sokka said, with a weak smile. "I've worked hard when I'd usually choose to be lazy because… because I really wanted to do this. I have no idea when I became the kind of crazy person who clears the board of a Pai Sho game rather than being the one who puts in the least effort to win… but I get the feeling it was around the same time as when I decided I wouldn't settle for a passing grade when I knew I deserved better."

Azula raised her eyebrows, gazing at him in surprised confusion. Sokka smiled fondly, shrugging at her.

"What I'm trying to say is… maybe you did that for him too," Sokka whispered, tapping the tree trunk gently. "Maybe Lu Ten was a perfectly common, ordinary guy… but having a cousin like you brought out the best in him, and he returned the favor. Which is kind of how I think things went between me and you, too. Whether you like it or not."

"Heh," Azula smiled, withdrawing her gaze slowly. "You're unnerving."

"You look way too happy for that to be the case…" Sokka huffed, poking her shoulder with a fingertip. Azula chuckled, shaking her head.

"You're unnerving because you can't stand winning anymore than you can stand losing, can you?" Azula said, smiling at him. "I… I just gave you a big opening. A chance to take advantage of my words and say… that maybe you should take all the credit for my success and growth as of late. What I said basically implied as much, and… nothing. You just had to go out of your way to level the playing field again and say I do the same thing for you. You just… you keep doing this, over and over again and I…"

"Azula…"

"I don't know… what you're doing to me," Azula admitted, swallowing hard. "A part of me just wants to… to ask if this means anything while another part of me just wants to believe it doesn't, because if it didn't and I thought it did, I would wind up disappointed and it would be no one's fault but mine, and…"

"You're rambling," Sokka smiled. Azula stopped talking, shooting him a reproachful glare. "And now you're looking cute. That's not fair."

"Cute? I'm not… ugh. Still unnerving," Azula huffed: her cheeks were tinged red, though in the darkening twilight, it wasn't easy for Sokka to notice it.

"Look… I don't think either of us set out to make such a mess of ourselves with this silly challenge of ours," Sokka said, biting his lip. "And I won't lie, my dad's immediate assumption that I was just… chasing a girl I liked was kind of wild for me to handle. I didn't see you that way back then, didn't think I would later on either, but… I guess there's some stupid part of me that feels stronger, emboldened, whenever you're around. I… I don't know if that happens to you too, but I guess I would have gotten bored from university in a matter of weeks if I hadn't been keeping an eye on you in history class the whole time…"

"And I kept feeling your eyes on me… so I refused to back down or falter because you would mock me if I did," Azula said, simply. Sokka chuckled.

"Would've tried for sure," he said. Azula's lips curled slightly. "But now…"

"Now we're allies. And mortal enemies, still," Azula declared. Sokka raised his eyebrows.

"Right. Not contradictory at all, huh?" he asked. Azula smiled and shrugged.

"I fear you and I embody quite a lot of contradictions," she said, gazing into his eyes as best she could in this darkness. "Two people who disliked each other profoundly, calling themselves each other's mortal enemies… only to wind up spending a year together and having some strange heart-to-heart in places like these? Admitting… to inspiring each other, of all things? It doesn't seem to make sense, does it?"

"Not to anyone but us, I'd say," Sokka whispered. Azula snorted.

"Speak for yourself. Makes no sense to me, either," she said. Sokka smiled and shook his head.

"You don't fool me. You haven't for a while now," he whispered.

His fingers rose to caress her cheek delicately, smoothly combing her hair as he leaned closer. Azula's breath trembled as she turned towards him, as her hand clasped his, and then she closed her eyes, feeling him so close, brow pressed to hers…

"Wait."

Sokka gritted his teeth, but he slowed down. Her lips were a breath away from his.

"We can't just… go for this now," Azula whispered. Sokka hummed, waiting to hear her out once she elaborated her thoughts. "Semester's almost done. So… if we do this, we'll get distracted. We'll…"

"We'll be too busy with each other to focus on studying?" Sokka asked. Azula bit her lip and nodded.

"And this could be a mess anyway, beyond that. This is our last semester, so… we're not bound to see much of each other afterwards. If we start this, whatever it is, now, then…"

"We'll be set up for failure in the future?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged. "Hmm… and what if it's a tie again?"

"What if…? Wait, you mean our average scores altogether?" Azula frowned. Sokka smiled.

"If that happens… then that means we'd have to go for one more semester, right? A third semester. We wouldn't have settled things… we wouldn't know who's superior at all," Sokka said: his fingers slid through hers, caressing her hand gently. "Our challenge wouldn't be complete yet…"

"And if it never is?" Azula asked, biting her lip. "If… if we finish our full careers, what then? How would we settle our perpetual stalemate then?"

"Then… you can come get a specialization in the Water Tribe's university once it's built," Sokka smiled. Azula hummed. "And I can do the same in the Fire Nation, when you've built it too. We could help each other establish each country's university too…"

"That's a strange connection to build…" Azula said, with a weak smile. "Cooperation, rather than competition?

"It kind of suits us, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it does. It's strange… but maybe it'll work. Maybe."

"But… this will happen only if the stalemate continues?" Sokka asked. Azula swallowed hard and nodded.

"Only if the stalemate continues."

He smiled. The temptation to kiss her was strong… but he withdrew, caressing her face gently with his free hand before sitting up against the tree.

"Well… I'll hope our results are the same, then. If you're willing to explore this… so am I," Sokka smiled. Azula blushed, but she said nothing in response this time.

Instead, she settled against the tree, dropping her head on Sokka's shoulder as their fingers intertwined. His own head fell smoothly atop hers: they closed their eyes to bask in the smooth peace of yet another moment of mutual acceptance and understanding… of standing – or sitting, as the case may be – on even ground, regardless of the world's attempts to persuade them that no such bond could be possible between them. Who knew, in the end, if the future could be brighter than this? Perhaps one of them would actually win their contest, and if they did, the other would have to step aside. These plans might fall through… and then distance might arise between them, as it often happened between school friends.

Neither one wanted that, though. They huddled together underneath that tree, comforted in each other's arms for the very first time. Their efforts to become each other's foils had turned them into each other's strength, instead… their stubbornness about their rivalry had brought forth a rather different feeling inside them, too. Whatever might come next, all they could hope for was that the six months they had spent together would extend, yet again, and for longer than just six more months…

...

Weeks later, they took notes of all their final grades once they were posted in each faculty's board. Then, they joined up underneath their tree in campus, quickly working to determine what their average score, altogether, had been. Sokka had done better at the classes he was prepared for… much as Azula had done better at the ones she had affinity with.

But ultimately, their scores were eerily similar even if not for the same classes. It was hard to ignore… and hard to disregard the thrilling tingles that rushed them as they finished the last calculations to discover…

"Same score?" Azula said, setting down her calculations next to his. Sokka bit his lip and smirked at her.

"Same score," he confirmed.

She had never been less keen on victory than she was that day.

His hand reached for her neck, and her arms wrapped around his: she nearly knocked him down with her enthusiasm, but Sokka managed to sit upright still as he embraced her tightly... as their lips joined in a deep, necessary, heartfelt kiss.

...

A month later, Hakoda was utterly unsurprised when his son returned home… and didn't do so alone. He offered him a dry grin when Sokka admitted that the relationship between him and Azula might no longer be strictly professional – though he insisted that they were, to this day, mortal enemies, and Azula seconded that promptly, shivering in her parka, unused to the cold weather.

They wouldn't return for the third semester right away – both had duties in their nations, and it was time for them to supervise the beginning of their respective universities. Still, Azula had agreed to come with Sokka to the South Pole first, accompanying him as he offered to show her a beautiful sight she might enjoy painting, seeing as lights were her favorite thing to depict in artworks.

"It's… not very comfortable painting while we're freezing," Azula admitted: Sokka chuckled upon hearing that, stepping up to her and wrapping his arms around her from behind. Her easel was firm on the snow, and her mittens didn't help matters with her grip on the paintbrush… but she smiled, nonetheless, as she let greens and purples blend with whites and blacks upon her canvas. "But this is… certainly an interesting experience."

"Can't help but wonder if we could harness the power of auroras somehow, for light's sake," Sokka whispered, kissing the side of her head. "It's going to be tricky to handle class properly during the south's winter months… at least, it will be for people who aren't used to the Water Tribe's weather. I wonder if I could set up some sort of… mirror system? To shine the aurora upon the classrooms, or so?"

"It would be interesting… but I'm not sure of how effective it would be," Azula admitted. "Auroras aren't constant, after all… what are they, to begin with?"

"I guess that's one more thing the Southern Water Tribe's university will have to figure out," Sokka smiled. Azula chuckled, nodding slowly. "But I suppose there's a few things that have natural light to them, huh? Sunlight, stars… the moon, though as far as I understand it, the moon reflects the sunlight that bounces off it. Auroras… could they be reflecting light somehow too? Or maybe they're… I don't know, kind of like rainbows?"

"Fire also gives out light. Fireflies, too," Azula said, with a shrug. "And… lightning, of course."

"None of which is ever as stable as the sun," Sokka said, biting his lip. "Torches, lanterns… they need oil, fuel to provide flames and light. So… huh. How about using that principle to develop a stable source of light? It could help the Water Tribe…"

"It could help both Tribes. Could even help the entire world, actually…" Azula reasoned, glancing over her shoulder at him. "You know… you could have as many disciplines as you want here, but you could build the Water Tribe University into the leading institution for scientific advancement and practical application of those advancements. The Fire Nation has technology, yes… but it's mostly for warfare."

"Doesn't mean it can't be repurposed for better ideas, though," Sokka said, raising an eyebrow.

"If so… you'll have to come by to borrow those ideas," Azula said, smiling as she set down her palette and turning in his arms. "At least, whichever ones you think could help here."

"And we'll make sure to share our advancements with you guys too, once they're done?" Sokka said, stroking Azula's hair and brushing it out of her face. "I suppose the only way to have a proper rivalry is by standing on the same level, huh? So instead of tearing each other down…"

"We build each other up?" Azula finished. Sokka smirked. "That's… a strange sort of balance, I suppose. I don't expect a lot of people will understand or appreciate it, but…"

"But it suits us," Sokka whispered, his brow against hers. "You'll help me figure out how to create a stable, steady source of lighting for the Water Tribe… and in return, I'll make a painting of you as you paint the Southern Lights. How about it?"

"Oh? It better be a good one," Azula smiled. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"If it's not, you'll just have to come by again and again so I can try a thousand times," he said. "Though… we'll go back to Ba Sing Se for the semester after this one anyway, right?"

"Well… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to finish our whole careers there, after all," Azula smiled. "But only if we continue to go evenly at everything. The minute you outdo me in our total scores, I'll skip town and you'll never hear from me again."

"What? Oh, please, it'll be me who won't be able to live with the shame if you ever defeat me…!"

Azula laughed, wrapping her arms around Sokka as he leaned in to kiss her deeply. Perhaps this challenge between them would never end… but the way it had changed in nature was delightfully agreeable for them. Their alliance on a professional level would bring great progress to the Water Tribe and the Fire Nation… and the personal partnership they shared would bring them the deep fulfillment they had never imagined they might find in each other.

And perhaps, yes, they were still rivals, still mortal enemies. But the year they had already spent together had proven that was no impediment for affection and love to bloom between them all the same.

#sokkla #sokka #azula #sokkla saturdays 2022 #sokklasaturdays #almost done for this year #Sokkla being nerds is always lots of fun #overachieving nerds who are constantly tied in every contest #it never fails to amuse me #it was fun to write that more extensively here <3

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sfb123 · 4 years ago

Text

Stealing Moments

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Summary: The Royal family spends the afternoon taking part in some pre-Easter (or preaster, if you will) activities.

Rating: G - I’m not going to sugar coat it (sugar is the last thing this story needs), this is some majorly fluffy stuff here. Even for me, and I’ve produced some pretty fluffy work.

Word Count: 1,947

A/N: So this story is a triple threat:

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt #88 “I meant every word.” Which will appear in bold.

I am also participating in the @choicesaprilchallenge2021, day 3 teal. That prompt will appear in italics.

I am also participating in @trraw, day 2 Liam. That prompt will appear in the form of a handsome and charming King.

A/N 2: This is an idea that I thought of while I was writing my upcoming Uncle Drake fic (you’ll see that one on Sunday), so I decided to write it up as a little prequel to that. Thank you to @jessiembruno for encouraging me to take my crazy throw away ideas and make them into something, and also by contributing this adorable moodboard. You are a Canva master. To think, not too long ago you hated it and cursed it out on the regs!

Tags: You know the drill, they’re down below. I hope you get it! If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

Liam sat in his study, wrapping up some paperwork before his next meeting when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Bastien entered the room and shut the door behind him. “Sir, Lord Neville is demanding an audience with you. Immediately.”

“Of course he is. Tell him I am unavailable, and to make an appointment with my assistant before he leaves.”

“I did. I explained to him that you have an important afternoon meeting that could not be rescheduled. He didn’t appear to care.” Bastien chuckled to himself. This wasn’t the first time Neville had tried to weasel his way into an urgent meeting with the King.

Liam let out a deep breath as he stood, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Of course he didn’t. That’s fine, I need to get to my meeting anyway. I will tell him myself.”

Almost immediately upon exiting his study, Neville was in his face. “Your Majesty, I have an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention-”

Liam held up a hand, silencing him. “I’m sure you do, Lord Neville. Unfortunately, I am on my way to a very important meeting, so I am unable to sit with you right now. Please see my assistant on your way out, and she will be happy to book you for my next available appointment.”

“With all due respect Your Majesty, that simply won’t do. It won’t take long, perhaps I could walk with you to your next meeting?”

Liam internally rolled his eyes at the suggestion. He knew just how to stroke his ego to get him to back down. “Lord Neville, as one of our most valued members of court, I couldn’t possibly do you the disservice of giving you anything but my full attention on what I’m sure is a crucial matter. That is all I would be doing if I allowed you to continue at this time. I will make sure that my staff adjust the schedule to provide us enough time to examine the issue thoroughly. Please send me any documentation as soon as possible so that I may review it before our meeting. That way, we can hit the ground running when we do meet.”

Neville stood tall, a smug expression quickly spreading across his face. “Very well, Your Majesty. I appreciate your assistance in the matter. I will leave the documentation with your assistant.” He bowed, and Liam nodded in response before exiting the area and moving on to his next meeting.

“If I may say sir, the way you handled that situation was truly masterful.” Bastien commented as they walked through the palace.

Liam chuckled and patted his security guard on the back. “All in a day's work, my friend. Everything is in place for this afternoon, I trust? I will have no disruptions for the remainder of the day?”

“Yes Your Majesty, the staff has been fully alerted that you will be unavailable. I will be at the door to ensure that you are not bothered.” Bastien replied.

Once they arrived at their destination, Liam crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. He was the last to arrive, so the sound of the door caught the attention of those that had already gathered.

“Daddy!” Eleanor jumped out of her chair and ran straight for Liam, leaping into his arms.

“Hello Princess.” He chuckled as he held her close, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Are you ready to decorate some Easter eggs?” He carried her through the livingroom area of the royal quarters, returning her to her seat at the kitchen table.

“Yep! I helped mommy mix all the colors together. It was so fun!” She gestured to the cups of coloring spread out across the table.

Liam couldn't help but laugh at his daughter’s enthusiasm as he approached his wife, who was standing at the table making the final preparations for their afternoon project. “Hello, beautiful.” He leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on Riley’s lips.

“Hey handsome. You made it right on time. I’m impressed.” She teased.

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world. No matter how hard Neville tried.”

“Neville, yuck!” Eleanor chimed in, causing both of her parents to burst out laughing.

Riley turned her attention back to her husband. “Alright, you go get changed. I don’t want you ruining your fancy king clothes with egg dye.”

Liam kissed his wife and daughter before going into the bedroom to put on some more casual clothes. He returned unnoticed as Riley explained the egg dying process to Eleanor. He stood for a moment and watched them, his girls, his world. He couldn’t help the smile that quickly spread across his face at the sight.

“Daddy, come on, we can’t start without you!” Eleanor called out to him from the other side of the room, breaking him from his thoughts.

He returned to the table and stood between his girls. “Alright, I’m here. Where do we begin?”

Not only was this Eleanor’s first time decorating Easter eggs, but Liam’s too. He was told that as a Prince, there were more productive ways for him to spend his time. It was just one of the many childhood experiences being royalty simply didn’t allow for. He was so happy, not just to have this experience for himself, but to share it with his daughter. Another way to give her the childhood he never had, but always wanted.

Once Riley explained the process, they got to work; since she was the seasoned professional, she let Eleanor and Liam take the lead and do most of the work. She marveled in the similarities in their gestures, the concentration on their faces as they placed their white eggs in the dye, and the excitement when it would come out dyed a bright color. At one point, Riley couldn’t help but laugh when they pulled out their eggs at the same time, and looked up at her with identical expressions of joy, showing off their creations.

They had gotten down to the last egg, Liam turned to Eleanor, “Ok Princess, we’ve got one left. You get to pick the color.”

A thoughtful expression overtook Eleanor’s face as she surveyed the colors that surrounded her before turning to her parents and confidently announcing her decision. “Teal.”

Riley and Liam locked eyes and shared a confused expression. There was no teal, they had only prepared basic colors, blue, green, yellow, pink, and purple. “Baby girl, we don’t have teal. These are the only colors we have.” Riley explained.

Eleanor’s lip started to quiver as her arms went across her chest. “I want teal. Please.” Her parents had been teaching her the importance of manners, so she figured if she said please, they had to give her what she wanted.

They both knew what that lip quiver meant, they were going to need to move quickly to avoid a total meltdown. Liam approached the princess and started rubbing her back to keep her calm. “It’s alright Eleanor. Why don’t you tell me why you want a teal egg so badly?”

“It’s my favorite color.” She looked up at her father, a pleading expression etched in her face. Her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

There was no question that Eleanor had the King wrapped around her finger, and when she looked at him like that, there was absolutely no way he could deny her. “Alright, let me go talk to mommy and see what we can do for you.” He kissed her on her cheek and returned to his wife. “Riley, there must be something we can do. I can send someone to get teal coloring. We have unlimited resources at our disposal, there must be some way we can make this happen for her.”

Riley shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Man, you really are a sucker when it comes to her. Aren’t you.”

“For both of my girls, actually.” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them gently across her knuckles, while giving her a hopeful expression.

She sighed deeply, as much as she tried to fight it, she was also a sucker for her family. “Alright, I guess I can try to mix the blue and green together. Maybe I can get the right ratio to make a teal dye.”

Liam turned to Eleanor and gave her a thumbs up, she clapped her hands and cheered in response. Riley got to work carefully mixing the two dyes into a third cup, occasionally dipping a piece of paper in to test the color. She smiled to herself when the fourth test paper emerged from the cup. Mission accomplished. “Did somebody want to make a teal egg?”

“Me me me!” Eleanor raised her hand and jumped up and down in her seat.

Riley placed the cup in front of Eleanor and handed her the egg. The pair worked together to color the final egg to the princess’s exact specifications.

Liam watched as the two of them completed their family project. His heart was so full at that moment that he felt weak in the knees. He reached behind him and laid his palms against the kitchen island to steady himself. He stood there as his wife, the love of his life, sat with his daughter creating memories in their home. In that moment, he wasn’t a King, he was the luckiest man in the world.

With the help of her mother, Eleanor pulled the egg from the dye, her smile growing exponentially as she proudly looked up at her father to show off her work. “Daddy, we did it! It’s teal!”

Liam chuckled at the sight in front of him. “I think it’s the most beautiful egg I have ever seen, Princess.”

Riley looked up and noticed Liam’s expression before leaning down to Eleanor. “Hey sweets, why don’t you go wash up for dinner while I put all of this away.” Her daughter looked up and nodded before rushing down the hall. Riley approached Liam and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Love, I can honestly tell you I have never been better.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “Do you remember our first date? During the social season?” She nodded. “You asked me what my dream was, and I told you I wanted a real family, one that was close and listened to each other.” He paused, staring deeply into her eyes. “I have that, because of you Riley. You’ve made my dream, my heart’s desire, come true. Going into my social season, I had all but given up on falling in love, and assumed I would simply marry for duty. Then you uprooted your whole life to give me a chance at happiness. I will never be able to tell you how truly grateful I am for all that you have given me.” He placed a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Liam, I did it for me too. That night in New York, I had never felt like that before. I was not that girl, the one that drops everything to fly around the world for a boy I just met, but I knew there was something there that was worth exploring.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Really?”

Riley laughed gently. “I meant every word.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled her close.

They pulled apart just as Eleanor bounded back into the room. She ran straight for her parents and jumped into Liam’s arms. He held her against one side, and pulled Riley into the other. He was sure that life couldn’t get better than that very moment.

Tags:

Permatag- @anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

One Shots- @darley1101

Liam x Riley- @jared2612

@choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles @choicesaprilchallenge2021 @trraw

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megatraven · 4 years ago

Text

Great and Precious Things

A/N: The title is taken from the quote, “All great and precious things are lonely,” by John Steinbeck. Because I forgot to think of a title while I wrote this :) Character(s): EAA FMC, EAA MMC, Arin Pairing(s): N/A Summary: A look into what it might have been like for FMC following the casting of the memory spell, and how she gave up much more than just her knowledge of magic.

AO3

___

It doesn’t happen the moment the words leave her mouth, as most spells tend to. It’s more delicate than that, and it takes time to wrap around her heart and mind, to seal away a lifetime of memories. She has a few days. A week at most.

“How are you feeling?” Arin asks her, concern bleeding through their voice, their furrowed brow making her smile, albeit weakly.

“I’m just tired. Took a lot more out of me than opening a door, that’s for sure.” She turns to her brother. “How about you?”

“I... Yeah, I’m fine. I will be.”

Reaching out, she squeezes his shoulder, and it’s enough to ground them both and scrape together the energy they need to ask the labyrinth for a way home.

They part ways with Arin, promising to see them tomorrow for an update. It’s a quiet, mournful walk back to their house, but when they finally reach the basement, they don’t quite remember why they were down there in the first place.

___

“Does it feel strange?”

Arin is sitting across from her, their leg bouncing a little nervously, an old tic that only shows up when they’re really anxious over something. She reaches across and drops her hand down on their knee, keeping them still.

She wants to reassure them, but there’s no easy way to tell someone that you’re leaving them behind. There’s no easy way to let them know that you’re forgetting promises that you said you would keep, and memories that you’ve laughed or cried over together for years.

But she does her best.

“It’s... like waking up from a dream. You want to tell people about it, but when you reach for the story... it’s slipped through your fingers.” She pauses, and takes her hand away from their leg, leaning back into her own seat. There’s not much else to say.

Silence stretches between them, almost suffocating in how heavy it is, before Arin breaks it.

“Does it... Does it hurt?” they whisper, and her heart aches for it.

At least she can tell them the truth here, provide some small comfort.

“Not at all.”

___

She’s making herself a fresh pot of coffee when her brother comes into the kitchen. She doesn’t look up, eyes glued to the list of classes available next semester as she decides which ones she wants to take.

He sits down at the counter, and she can practically feel the weight of his stare on her, though she doesn’t look back.

She’s got to figure out her classes- she remembers feeling a little bored this past semester, like there wasn’t enough to fill her time.

When her coffee fills the pot, she pours herself a steaming mug, and finally looks over at her brother, finding him to be a little apprehensive.

With a sigh, she sets her mug back down and turns to face him fully.

“Alright. No being all mopey, tell me what’s up.”

She’s prepared for just about anything- but what he says makes her thankful she’d already set her coffee down.

“I’m going to law school.”

For a moment, all she can do is stare, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. She knows exactly what that means- god, she’d seen the letters when she checked the mail, but she never thought...

“You can’t be serious,” she says, disbelieving and maybe a little angry. Maybe a little hurt, too. He couldn’t leave, they had-

They had...

Something!

She was too angry to recall what obligation it was, but he was supposed to stay! He was supposed to stay with her.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I just can’t get that argument with dad out of my head. This might be my only chance to go, and I-” he swallows, looking away- “I’m going to take it. I don’t want to be stuck here looking after the lighthouse all my life.”

“You can’t leave,” she says, a little desperate. “Arin and I need you.”

She isn’t sure why she says Arin’s name- they’re doing just fine in their work, they know what direction they’re going in. But it feels right, like it needs to be said. Like it should always be the three of them, together.

Unfortunately, it does nothing to sway her brother.

“I have to. I already accepted, I’m getting a full-ride scholarship... it’s happening, whether you want it to or not.” He gets up, and starts to leave, pausing only to say one more thing. “I hope you’ll respect my decision.”

And then he’s gone, a preview of what’s the come.

Her coffee is cold by the time she wills herself to pick it up again.

___

“I’m sorry,” she says, out of the blue.

She’s just finished submitting her classes for the next semester, filling her schedule to the brim. If her brother’s not going to be there, then she really needed something to occupy herself with. Not to mention, she wants to learn a better way to keep the lighthouse going, since it’ll be just her.

Her brother looks up from his phone, cheeks a little flush.

“Huh?”

“For acting the way I did when you told me about law school. I want you to be happy...” She glances down at his phone and gives him a teasing smile when she meets his eyes again. “So I support you. You should go.”

“Really? I knew you’d come around!” His smile grows, and he rushes around the table to squeeze her in a tight hug, making her laugh. “What changed your mind?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but she closes it again.

Why did she change her mind? Why was she so against him leaving? She remembers feeling angry, but why? It wasn’t like her to hold him- or anyone, for that matter- back just because of her feelings. It feels like she shouldn’t have had to change her mind at all.

Shaking her head lightly, she shrugs.

“I guess I just realized that... well, you know what you want to do with your life. I don’t want to get in the way of you doing it.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, you know.”

She can hear the smile in his voice, and has to blink away tears before she pulls back and grins at him.

“Of course. If you ever need anything...” She steps back, and gestures around them, at the house that they grew up in. “You know where to find me.”

___

He leaves.

Her parents are gone, on vacation in California.

The house feels more empty than it ever has, and it breaks her heart a little. Some part of her knows it wasn’t meant to be that way, but there’s nothing to be done about it, now.

She takes out her phone and pulls up Arin’s number.

At least she still has them.

___

She sits at one of the tables outside, just beyond the line of food trucks. It’s a nice day, and all the food smells so good. She’d love to grab a bite to eat, but she waits, checking her phone for any response.

Nothing.

“They said they’d come,” she murmurs, looking out at all the people passing by. No bright red hair sticks out to her, no friendly face.

Sighing, she shoots them another message- she knows they get busy, so maybe they just forgot?

A few minutes go by with no response, and she’s about ready to grab something and go when they finally arrive, looking harried.

“Arin! I was wondering-”

“I’m sorry,” they interrupt, their voice sounding rough. There’s something sad in their gaze that she can’t quite place, and they look more exhausted than usual. “I thought I’d be able to meet you today, but I have a meeting that moved up, it’s in a couple of minutes. Can we reschedule?”

Her heart sinks, but she pulls out her best smile anyways.

“Of course! I’ll text you later!”

And then they’re off like a bullet, leaving her behind, too.

Leaning back in her chair, she decides maybe it would be better to stay out for awhile longer. The sun is shining, the food smells great, and there’s no reason to waste it all by sulking at home.

Eventually, she decides on getting an ice cream before she settles back into her seat, watching all the people coming and going. A silly sort of idea strikes her, and she smiles a bit.

“Maybe I can make it into a little game...”

___

Rain check.

Cancelled.

Busy.

Reschedule.

Try again at a better time.

Maybe soon.

The excuses wear away at her, until she stops texting Arin altogether.

Most of her messages go unanswered, and she can barely even catch their eye on campus anymore. She wonders if it’s something she did. Maybe they were just growing apart. Maybe she’d finally become too much for them to handle.

It didn’t really matter either way. She couldn’t keep their friendship alive on her own, and they clearly didn’t see it as important right then. If they weren’t going to put in the effort, that was fine.

And if they needed space... she could give it to them.

No problem.

She swipes their contact away, looking for her brother’s name. Her finger hovers over the call button for a long moment before she sets her phone down.

He was probably busy studying. Or making out with his boyfriend. The idea of that makes her snort.

She didn’t want to bother him, anyway. He’d call her in a couple of days.

Slumping in her seat, she looks around her, looking for something to get her mind off it all. Her eyes land on a pile of books she’d brought home earlier, mostly on the subjects of lighthouse maintenance, computer programming, and engineering.

Sitting back up, she reaches over and grabs one.

“Well... no time like the present, right?”

___

The lighthouse runs on its own, hardly needing anything more than a weekly check-up to make sure things are running smoothly.

She’s proud of her work- it’d taken a good year to work out all the kinks of her new system, but it was so worth it. It kept her occupied, gave her something to focus on.

Only, now that it's finished...

She doesn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Her brother is way too busy with school to talk often, Arin is still strangely distant and ridiculously busy, and even the lighthouse doesn’t really need her anymore.

Somehow, she finds herself feeling more lonely than ever.

But that’s okay, she thinks.

It’s normal.

#lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #ever after academy #eaa #arin langdon #eaa fmc #eaa mmc #my fic #ok im still? not satisfied w the ending but i rlly didnt know how else to end it so efrgtefrgtrfgt #if it’s not clear. fmc is. is the great and precious thing-

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honeymoonjin · 6 years ago

Text

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 namjoon x reader || 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 9.7k || 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 smut

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 desperate to finally break your masturbatory dry spell, you seek out a professional.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 explicit sexual content, cursing, sex work, masturbation (f), fingering (f), soft dom!namjoon, sub!reader, light degradation, roleplay, oral (f), use of sex toys, crying during sex woo, namjoon is a professional

---

“So; you’re having problems in the bedroom?”

You choke on your own spit and your cheeks flush a violent red. “Um, I- I guess? It’s not, uh…” You trail off uselessly, keeping your eyes firmly focused on the bland, off-white wall behind the man’s head.

He doesn’t seem fazed by your response, choosing to move past it. “Are you having problems being pleasured by a partner, or problems pleasuring yourself?”

If your cheeks could get any hotter, they do then. You let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Sorry, that’s a little… I didn’t realize this would be so…”

“So personal? This is a sex clinic, Ms. L/n, it’s why you’re here. There is nothing to be ashamed about. How about this? I’ll ask you yes-no questions, and then you don’t have to give up information yourself. Saying it is often the hardest part, I’ve found. Alright then; are you having problems bringing yourself to orgasm when masturbating?”

You bite down hard on your lip as you nod, beyond ashamed. It was good that the doctor seemed so blasé and unbothered and professional about it, but you were starting to regret coming.

Doctor Kim flashes you a reassuring smile and clicks his pen against his chest to open it, scribbling a note on his clipboard. “Okay, that’s fine. Is this a recent issue?” You nod stiffly. “Alright. You used to be able to achieve orgasm, but in recent times that’s changed, correct?” Another nod. “Would I be correct in assuming you have had a lot of stress in your life crop up?”

You let out a small huff. “Look, I wrote all this down on the application form. I don’t see why we have to go through it all again if you already have the answers.”

You jump a little in your seat as he slaps the clipboard down on his desk, fixing you a focused stare. “Y/n- may I call you Y/n? Y/n, quite frankly, if you’re not mature enough to hold a conversation about sexual activity like an adult, then I’m afraid you’re not mature enough to be using my services. This isn’t some back-end business; I’m not a prostitute, this is my profession, and I take it rather seriously, you’ll find. Sex is natural. Our bodies are natural. Now, do you want to stay and talk to me so that I can help you, or is this too much? If it is, I suggest you take your leave.”

Inexplicably, his firm tone has a heat rising deep within, something you haven’t felt in a while. When you speak, your voice is hoarse. “I’ll stay.”

And with that, his body and face relaxed, as he leans back in his chair comfortably. “Wonderful. Continuing on, then. What exactly have you tried to get an orgasm? Just your fingers, toys, what?”

“I thought…” You swallow hard. “I thought you said you’d give yes-or-no questions?”

“And I thought you said you wanted this.”

You sigh again. Fuck, why was it so hard to just say it? “Um, I use fingers and… that’s about it.” You swallow again and clear your throat.

“No, it isn’t,” he shoots back immediately with a raised brow, clicking his pen against the surface of the paper. “Honestly, Ms. L/n, I’ve worked at this clinic for six years. Nothing you could possibly say would faze me. I once had a client who confessed he had tried to reach orgasm by putting a blunted letter opener into his urethra.”

Your mouth gapes open. “He what? Wait, you’re not supposed to give details about clients. Isn’t that breaching, like, patient confidentiality?”

The doctor simply shrugs. “I asked his permission to use it as a teaching moment. I found it’s been rather helpful to assure people that there is nothing too ‘wild’ or ‘out-there’. Everyone has different tastes. As a matter of fact, that man found it incredibly effective.”

You blink. “Well, uh, mine isn’t anything like that. I just have a, you know,” you break off to gesture at your crotch in a vaguely penetrative motion.

Doctor Kim pinches his lips together, a dimple appearing on one cheek. “A dildo? Or a vibrator?”

“First one,” you admit. “Is that… That’s all the questions, right? What else could you possibly ask?”

He raises an eyebrow, taking some notes before he puts his full attention on you again. “Plenty. How fast do you penetrate yourself with the dildo? Could you indicate the speed of your hand?” You go dead pale. He holds a neutral expression for a moment longer before he cracks, laughing loudly with his eyes scrunched shut. You go limp against your chair, cheeks red for a different reason. “Sorry, I’m just playing with you. The inquisition is complete, I promise. Now, Sandra at the front desk can make you an appointment, and I’ll be sure to send you out an email with any instructions prior to our session. Thanks for coming in.”

With the session being made for that Friday, it was Thursday afternoon that the anticipated email came through. You were at work, stuck in meetings all morning and desperately trying to catch up on your personal stash of work after lunch, when a ping sounded, lighting up your screen with a notification from [email protected]. Hurriedly, you fumble to turn the screen dark, glancing around to make sure no one around your desk had somehow read it.

You stewed in nervous energy for the rest of your day, only opening the email once you were in the privacy of your own home with a freshly made hot drink to calm you down.

Expecting the instructions from the donotreply email address to be generic, you were surprised when it instead instructed you to click on a link to their database, with a random string of letters and numbers as an access code.

On the official website (which looked unbelievably slick and professional like any other business’ page), under a section titled MyHealing, you put in the code as requested, eyes widening as you saw just how organized the system was.

There was a tab for Customer Info, one for Session History, one for Calendar, and a final one with no name, just a little envelope symbol with a small, red 1 above it. You click on it and are taken to an inbox with a single message from Doctor Kim Namjoon.

Y/n,

Thank you for booking an appointment. Your session is slotted in for Friday 9th, 5:15pm. Should you need to cancel or reschedule less than 24 hours before, keep in mind the $40 fee will apply. Personalized instructions for this appointment are below. Please note that new instructions will be sent out for every appointment; these are not intended to be used for anything other than this specific session.

You take another sip from your mug as you read that line. ‘Every appointment’. How often did he think you were going to be coming back? You had booked in imagining once you got some sexual release, you’d be fine again. Perhaps it was a blanket statement he told every customer. You let it slip your mind and continue reading.

I advise you first and foremost to get a good night’s sleep on Thursday. Since your appointment is late in the day, I would also suggest a midday nap if possible. I assume you’re at work during the day. Make sure you have enough water, and if your job is at a desk, use your lunch break to go for a walk, preferably outside. When it comes to orgasms, one part is physical, one part is mental, and only a small part is the actual stimulation. So, you can understand how important it is to make sure your body is physically primed and ready for exertion.

Secondly, the mental side of things. I know it’s hard but try not to get too stressed out about the appointment during the day. It’s understandable that you might be nervous but putting too much pressure on yourself will only make reaching orgasm more difficult.

Instead, keep yourself occupied with things you enjoy as much as possible. Consider taking the afternoon off if you have enough leave.

Finally, stimulation. We didn’t cover if you’re still currently attempting masturbation regularly or not, but I would like you on the Thursday night to get yourself as aroused as you can. Watch pornography, read erotica, touch yourself. But don’t try to actually achieve an orgasm. If you simply-

You toss your phone on the couch beside you and huff. Fuck. He really wrote you a whole essay, huh? Did he do this for every customer, for every appointment? He had said he took his job seriously. You just didn’t realize it was to this degree. Hopefully he was as thorough in the practical side of his job as he was in the administration.

Later that night, you decided to treat yourself to a hot bath. Relaxing in the perfumed waters, you lazily bring a hand down to rest between your legs. As Doctor Kim said, he didn’t know whether you were still trying to get yourself off or not, but in reality, it varied greatly. Some evenings you'd spent hours, with aching wrists and tears of frustration, to no avail. Other days you gave up completely and wallowed in your sexual frustration, haplessly grinding against a pillow between your legs for the minimal relief it provided.

But you had re-read over the notice a couple of times, and it was clear that Doctor Kim didn’t want you cumming tonight. Just getting a little riled up in the hopes that your body would be more desperate to cum tomorrow.

Water always gives a weird kind of friction, so it’s somewhat of a hassle trying to rub at your clit, but once you settle into a natural rhythm, you close your eyes and lean back until the water laps over your shoulders. You hitch a leg up over the side of the tub and let out a deep breath.

It always started out nice. You’d get a false sense of hope, that the flicker of pleasure would ignite into anything more than a low smolder, but it never did. Although, this time, knowing full well that cumming isn’t a goal, you find yourself enjoying the relaxing stimulation for its face value. You knead lazily at your breast, rolling a nipple between your fingers as your other hand continues its circling motions. Gradually, your mind naturally begins to float, and a scene begins to materialize in your imagination: in your mind’s eye, your fingers are replaced by much larger and thicker ones, and instead of the grazing of your fingernail it was teeth latching around your nipple, tugging lightly to make your toes curl. Fingering yourself is generally a fruitless endeavor, but you can’t help but clench, longing to be filled by him.

Him… Whether by the context of your relationship, or genuine attraction, it’s Doctor Kim Namjoon that fills your thoughts, the way the water would stain his button-up sleeves rolled up to the elbow, but not quite high enough to avoid the sloshing of water. You hear the scribble of a ballpoint on that clipboard, like he’s taking note of your reactions, like you’re something to be studied and analyzed.

Below the water level, you grind your hips into your hand, rubbing yourself with the flats of four of your fingers know in an effort to increase the surface area. One of your nipples is flushed from being pinched and tugged at, so you clumsily cross your arm over to the other side, whining into the damp air of your bathroom once you begin repeating your ministrations. You should probably open a window. The vents aren’t great and the last thing you need is a moldy ceiling.

You grunt low in your throat, shaking your head. You can worry about that later, dammit. With added vigor, you press at your clit, biting down on your lip to try and out all your focus into going faster and harder. Only it doesn’t feel as good as before.

Where was I? Doctor Kim’s arms. Maybe he’d forgo the button-down shirt completely and decide to strip down, getting into the tub with you, wrapping his arms over your front and pulling you down onto him. You huff, furrowing your eyebrows, holding onto your breath, feeling that pleasure slip away from you. Come on, imagine him fingering you or something, what’s wrong with you, he’s hot! That smile, the thick thighs straining under pants material. Not long before you’d see him again, tomorrow night. It was strange that he worked nights, though you supposed considering his job it made sense that people might prefer-

“Fuck!” Your hands have come to a halt, too distracted to continue, and that slow burning of pleasure in your gut has been extinguished as if from the now-lukewarm water you sit in. You let out a frustrated cry and kick out with the leg that’s still in the water, splashing water up the wall in front. “Fuck off! Are you serious?” You force yourself to take a deep breath and tamp down your rising frustration. The kind doctor had told you not to cum, so it was probably for the best that you didn’t get too into it. Still, it’s irritating you that even the thought of a… a sex professional getting you off isn’t enough to actually get you off. You huff, picking up the bar of soap off its dish, and begin to lather yourself up. “Good luck, Doctor Kim,” you mutter.

Surprisingly, you sleep well and have a productive morning. Missing the morning traffic and arriving at a quiet office lifts your mood, and you have just enough work to remain mentally and physically occupied. In fact, you’re sure you would’ve spent your whole day in this calm working mentality, were it not for the phone call that comes just after midday.

Most of the office is out on their lunch break. Only a few of you hang around this time; you know others just prefer to eat earlier or later, but you actively hang around because you appreciate the chance for some peace and quiet. That tranquility is broken by the aggressive buzzing of your phone on your desk. Anticipating a call from a client later on, you figure they’re just phoning in a little early, and you answer it without checking the number.

“Y/n L/n speaking,” you rattle off automatically, “how may I help?”

A low chuckle on the other end gives you pause. It certainly doesn’t sound like the retired seamstress you were expecting to hear. “Did you give me your work phone number, little miss?”

A shot of electricity shoots up your spine and you sit bolt upright in your office chair, instinctively glancing around the five or six people milling about the office floor. “Doctor Kim,” you reply in a low voice.

“Correct. Have you suddenly entered a library or is there another reason you’ve gone all quiet?” His voice is lilting with amusement and you can almost picture him sitting back in his office chair, dimple sticking out as he grins.

Your fingers curl around your phone, and you use your other hand to cup over your mouth, leaning forward over your desk. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to call,” you reply honestly, “is there a problem?”

“Of course not. My clinic has a policy of always giving a reminder call the day of or before the appointment.”

You pout. “Oh.” Somehow, the fact that he calls everyone makes you feel something akin to disappointment. “Shouldn’t your receptionist do stuff like that?”

“Would you prefer I put Sandra on the phone?”

“No,” you blurt out reflexively. The doctor rewards your honesty with a breathy chuckle. You press your knees together and clench your thighs. “So, just a reminder then? Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. Thanks for the call, though.”

“You haven’t?” You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, and it affects you more than you care to admit. “You’ve been thinking about it, then? Have you been trying to guess what I have in store for you? What I’m going to do to you?”

You clear your throat awkwardly, sensing the conversation taking a decidedly sexual turn. “I’ve been trying to focus on my work, actually. Like your message said.”

“Ah, that’s good. Did you take the afternoon off like I suggest, or are you just on your lunch break?”

You barely hear him speak, your heart skipping a beat when a crowd of some of the older employees starts filing back in. Fuck. 12:32pm. People were going to start getting back to work now, you couldn’t be on the phone with a sex therapist. “Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”

He pauses for a moment. “Are you still at work?”

You clear your throat, ducking your head as one of your superiors walks past. “Uh, yes, sir. Will that be all?”

He chuckles, though it’s more a sharp exhale through his nose, slightly crackly through the receiver. “Spending company time talking to the man who will fuck your brains out tonight?” You cringe at how loud he speaks, mind going blank with shock. You can’t find your voice to reply, though you have no idea what you would even say. He listens to you splutter for a few moments, your lack of response an answer in itself. “Naughty girl,” he chastises. “What would your coworkers think if they knew who you were talking to? I bet you wish you weren’t at work right now so you could just slip a hand into your panties, isn’t that right?” You bite down hard on your lip, using the ruse of sliding your office chair further in as cover for rubbing your core against the seat for some relief. “Come on, Y/n,” Doctor Kim’s voice echoes in your ear, “what did we say about yes-no questions?”

“Yes, sir,” you make out through a tense jaw, hoping your voice sounds as bright and customer-friendly as it normally would be with anyone else, even as your thighs clench together. “My office hours are 8:30am to 4:30pm Monday to Friday.”

“Oh?” His laugh bubbles through your phone and makes you absentmindedly start scrunching up a scrap bit of paper on your desk. He was enjoying this. “So, you’re there for a while still, hm? I wonder if you can make it until 4:30pm or if you’ll have to sneak into the bathroom and get some relief. It’s a shame I can’t stay on the line; I’d have loved to hear you moan over the phone, unable to keep quiet as you touch yourself. Oh well. I’ll make you moan for me later tonight.”

You slowly slip your hand down, tucking it between your legs and shifting your hips slowly beneath your desk, grinding against the delicate bones of your wrist for some friction. “The, uh, the appointment is confirmed, sir, thank you. Is there anything else I can help you with before I go?”

You hear a pen clicking, and some hurried strokes against paper in the background. The thought that, like your fantasy last night, he was writing down notes on all your reactions and desires, brought a rush of heat between your legs. You can feel the fabric of your panties, wet through to the outside of the fabric and dampening the skin of your arm. Oh god. “That will be all, Ms. Y/n. I look forward to our appointment tonight very much. Don’t forget to drink enough water to prepare for the fluids you’ll be depleting in our session. Have a splendid day.”

All the energy leaves you the moment the line goes dead, and your top half slumps forward onto the desk. You pull your arm out from between your legs, rubbing away the slippery patch on the side of your wrist before anyone can see it. You didn’t think you were going to get much work done for the rest of the day.

“Are you nervous?”

You lift your gaze from your trembling hands to the man sitting across from you. The two of you were the only ones in the cosy waiting room you had been led to. It was something halfway between a bedroom and a spa, with a great long bed covered in cushions and blankets, a bench laden with food and drink, and several diffusers spraying gently perfumed mist into the air.

The stranger was there when you had arrived moments prior. A green silk robe loosely tied around his waist was the only thing he was wearing as he lounged on the bed, lazily scrolling through his phone, black hair curled and damp, sticking haphazardly to his temples and cheekbones. He had watched you in mild curiosity as you walked in and stiffly sat down on a cosy armchair, and didn’t take a moment before initiating conversation.

He looks at you now with an expectant glimmer. You recall the question and flick him a shy smile. “Mm. First time,” you explain with a sheepish shrug. You let your gaze linger on his attire. “Are you...waiting to go in, too?”

His brows lift in surprise, along with a toothy grin. “Oh, no! I just got out of my sesh with the doc. This is just the whole aftercare shtick. I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he adds with a jaunty wave of his hand.

His languid ease has you relaxing a little, and you crack a smile. “I’m Y/n. So, how many times have you come here exactly? I thought surely once he fixed you, you’d be fine?”

The corner of his mouth quirks. He tosses his phone carelessly onto the bedcovers and sits up a little, the robe falling open to reveal his chest, all defined muscle and tanned skin, glimmering with a sheen of sweat. "Hey, that's what I thought. But honestly? This shit's addictive. I work an extra ten hour shift every week now to afford one hour of bliss. I think I may be in love with him. Or at least, I'm definitely in love with his mouth."

Your eyes drop to the thick carpet as you flush with the mental image that provides, but you can't help but glance back up out of curiosity as his words sink in. "Wait, his mouth? I thought he was meant to just..."

"Jerk people off? I mean, sure, he can do that, but the doc tends to mix it up. With how packed his schedule is, he'd probably get fucking carpal tunnel or some shit if he just jacked his patients off all day. He's a pretty creative dude when it comes to this, you know?" He breaks off with a faraway smile. "Actually, I consider myself a bit of an innovator, too. One time I had this letter opener, right, and-"

"Mister Jeon," an unimpressed voice drawls from behind you, "please refrain from accosting my clients with your sexual history. I am sure they don't find it as enlightening as you do."

You whirl around, heart immediately returning to its aggressive thudding, palms dampening in moments. Standing in the doorway, in a three-piece suit, is Doctor Kim Namjoon, one leg crossed over the other as he tucks a hand into his pants pocket. It's a vast difference from the simple shirt and pants combo he had on when you last saw him, and it seems he takes note of your startled reaction.

"It's casual Friday," he jokes with an easygoing grin, and it only strikes you then, as his eyes lock with yours, that you're about to have sex with this man. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but you'd be leaving this building feeling fully fucked out if all went well. Your nerves return with a vengeance, and his face softens. "Come on inside, Y/n."

A scoff tears your attention from the doctor. "Oh, so I'm Mister Jeon, but she's Y/n?"

Doctor Kim's jaw ticks, though it's bemusement rather than anger on his face. "Would you like me to call you Y/n?"

Jungkook pouts, picking at a loose thread on his robe petulantly. "No." He pouts deeply, looking up at the older man reproachfully. "If you keep being mean to me I won't come back anymore."

The doctor nods patiently like he's heard it a thousand times. "I'll see you next Friday, Jungkook. Do well on your bio exam next week and I might just show you how mean I can really be."

Jungkook's face clears and his eyes gleam. Without speaking, he simply gets up and jogs over to the little set of lockers by the exit, gathering his belongings. Doctor Kim doesn't spare him any more attention, and simply gestures for you to follow him.

You make your way down a dimly-lit corridor with wobbly legs, trying not to stare at the way his pants strained around his behind with every stride he took. Although there’s a distant wisp of relaxing piano emanating from the waiting room, the silence is unbearable.

“So,” you blurt, cringing at how loud your voice sounds in the stillness of the corridor, “what do you have planned?”

“Well, if Jungkook inspired you, I did bring along a letter opener,” the doctor calls out pleasantly, tilting his head, though he doesn’t turn to look at you.

Your step falters uncertainly. “Oh, I don’t…” You watch in dawning realization as he stops in front of a closed door and swivels, face scrunched up with delight as his shoulders shake silently. Although it was a dig at your naivety, you can’t help but crack a smile at him. “Aren’t doctors meant to be nice to their patients?”

He fumbles in his pockets, producing a keycard to scan at the entrance. Once it’s opened, he holds it there and turns to you expectantly. As you catch up to him and slip through the opened door, you can’t help but brush past his chest with your shoulder, breathing in his soothing scent of raspberry and vanilla. You hadn’t expected him to smell so...sweet.

You hear the door click shut behind you, self-locking, and that layer of security reassures you. Your attention, however, is quickly caught by the contents of the room itself.

It’s this disconcerting mix of a massage room, a doctor’s office, and a sex dungeon, and your head whirls as Doctor Kim preoccupies himself with messing with the heatpump settings on the far wall.

In the centre of the room is a traditional massage table, lowered to around the height of his hips, covered in a lush-looking slate grey towel. You figured the usual white wouldn’t fare so well with his line of work. Two of the walls make great use of shelves and cabinets, and you can’t help but be bewildered at the strange way they’re organised. A man like him surely had a system to keep everything in track, but dildos were beside bottles of massage oil and ropes, and a collection of gags and leashes hanging from hooks dangled above a little pyramid of neatly rolled towels and a steaming metal bowl of warm water.

“Please, take a seat anywhere you feel comfortable.”

You jerk out of your gaping stare and clear your throat awkwardly, moving to take a seat on a little wooden stool that sat in the corner of the room in front of a small dresser covered in props like handcuffs, some blindfolds and, strangely, a black ski mask with eye and mouth holes cut out. The image of the friendly doctor fucking someone in a full burglar outfit makes you snort out a laugh before you have the time to clap your hand over your mouth.

You press your lips together with a muffled giggle as the man himself flattens a stare.

“Is my job funny to you?”

Your smile drops as you recognise the change in his tone. Gone is the somewhat clumsy, joke-cracking doctor. Now he’s in his role. The session has begun. “No,” you deny weakly.

His deft fingers gravitate to the buttons holding his suit jacket together, and you feel the room become hotter as he walks the perimeter of the room slowly, eying up all the offerings he has to play with while he slips off the expensive material. Hanging the jacket on a coat rack beside the black cape and what looks like priests’ robes that already reside there, he turns on a heel to face you. His eyebrows are low, narrowing his eyes, but you can see the dark heat that radiates off him. You tuck your knees together. God, he’s good and he hasn’t even done anything. “My profession isn’t something to be laughed at,” he chastises lowly. “We had this problem the other day, didn’t we? With you not taking this seriously. It’s disappointing, Y/n.”

Your heart thuds uncertainly in your chest. The natural instinct to get upset from being told off mixes with the warmth building between your legs. “Sorry,” you offer up, voice lifting at the end like it’s a question.

He’s on the other side of the room to you. You wish he were closer, though now that he’s unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and beginning to roll the sleeves, eyes locked on your hunched-over form with an unreadable look, you don’t know that you could handle it. “No, you aren’t,” he brushes off, “and it’s very important that in this next 90 minutes, you only say things you absolutely mean. Understand?”

You take a steadying breath, feeling it expand your chest. “Yeah. I understand. It’s just… a lot. I’ve never done this, and I don’t know what’s going to happen, and-”

The tension disappears from his jaw and his eyes soften. In mere moments, he’s crossed the room in strides to crouch in front of you, catching your lowered gaze. “Woah, settle. First of all, everyone starts somewhere, so don’t feel anxious. Secondly, how many times have you had sex and known exactly what was going to happen in advance?”

His palms are warm and grounding as they gently rest, wrapped around your calves. You breath deeply again, appreciating this break in character. “I… But we’re not having sex though, right? This is, I don’t know,” you shrug futilely, “different.”

He returns your shrug, but with a far more carefree attitude. “It doesn’t have to be.” As he talks, his grip tightens a little on your calves, gently pressing into the tensed muscle. You find yourself relaxing without noticing, going lax in his touch, as non-sexual as it may be. “But, for the most part, people that come here do want it to be different. More exciting, more taboo, more intense. You need to communicate with me now. Do you want me to go easy on you, or do you want me to be thorough?”

Your mouth goes dry. With his hands on you, with the room you’re in, with the way his eyes linger heavy on yours, the word makes your toes curl. “Thorough,” you croak out.

He searches your face once more, then a slow grin spreads across his. “Excellent. Then get up on the massage table.”

He stands up; the lack of his touch on your legs makes you shiver. You follow him over, feeling your palms damp with nervous sweat. “On my front, or…?”

“Just sit on it for now, baby.” His eyes are alight with mirth when you blush at the petname, but he’s quickly snapping back into that dominant role, jaw muscles popping out as he watches you get up, facing him as your legs dangle in the air, not quite reaching the ground. You wait for him to get closer to you, but he ticks an eyebrow in affirmation and turns abruptly, stalking across the room to a tall, thin cupboard. He reaches in without speaking, and when he turns, in his hands he carries a vibrator in his hand, a relatively friendly-looking, gold bullet that looks rather small in his hand.

You think you recognise the brand, and if you’re right, it’s unbelievably high end. As he makes his way over to you, his gaze drops to your legs, which you’ve begun absentmindedly swinging back and forth. “Cute,” he remarks with a small sneer, and you abruptly stop, embarrassed at the childish action. “Don’t be so shy,” he advises, “I plan on hearing you scream for me tonight at some point or another. These walls are soundproof, you know. Every little sound you make will only be heard by me. Now spread those pretty legs.”

Suddenly, even though arousal steadily rocks through you, your legs lock up and you go stiff. The room is being pumped with warm air and yet your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

The doctor notices this, of course he does, and fiddles with the bullet, flipping it over and over in his palm as he makes his way back to you, stopping when his upper thighs brush against your knees. “What’s wrong? Second thoughts?”

You shake your head hastily, though you’re no less tense. “Just- just really nervous.”

His eyes warm in sympathy. “Hm, that’s no good. I can’t get you to cum with your legs shut tighter than a vice.” A quirk of a smile. “Well, I could, but we don’t have time for that today. So, let’s help you relax.” His free hand reaches up to brush against your shoulder. Even though he’s fully clothed as well, you still feel strange still wearing the large sweater and leggings you had arrived in. The fabric feels itchy on your skin, and you yearn for his palm to warm your skin instead of your sweater.

He lets out a breathy laugh as his hand rubs slowly up and down your upper arm. “God, look at you,” he marvels, “I’ve never seen someone so stressed still look so beautiful.” You manage to crack a reluctant smile, cheeks heating. He places the golden bullet vibe on the towel beside you, and pats your knee warmly. “Would it help if I kissed you?”

Your mouth drops open a little. You have to swallow away the dryness. With eyes unable to leave his perfect lips, you nod.

“Good, I can do that,” he soothes, “can you part your legs for me so I can get a little closer?”

The moment you shakily do as he asks, his hips are pressing against your thighs, pushing them wider still. You hastily dart your lips out to wet them, but he’s in no rush. The doctor slips a hand into your hair, brushing it off your face with fondly gleaming eyes.

It’s an expression you’ve never seen someone look at you with before, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy that it’s anything more than acting.

“C’mere,” he murmurs softly, before pressing lightly on the back of your head so that you straightened up to meet him halfway. You sigh into him when your lips touch, unbelievably soft yet insistent as they move against you.

He’s clearly experienced; you quiver inside with every movement, and he barely moves at all, drawing out the languid embrace. Your jaw falls slack, and you let yourself be guided by him, following his patient lead.

The room itself is quiet, and you can hear the way he lets out the smallest of grunts, delicate sounds of affirmation as you part your lips and feel the very tip of his tongue swipe against your lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth and tugging it lightly, chuckling when you let out a throaty whimper.

“Do you feel better now? Hm?”

He pulls away but your eyes stay shut, your whole body stretched up towards him. You nod, licking over your slightly swollen lips, humming in agreement. You smile dopily when he caresses your face, leaning into his touch, as his silken voice reaches your ears. “Are you ready to play?”

Your breath leaves you in one shuddering gasp. “Yeah,” you whine pleafully, eyes slowly slipping back open.

He’s standing over you, closer than you realised. Only a mere few centimetres rest between his crotch and your spread legs. Still, he uses that space to dip his hand down, brushing the back of it between your thighs, knuckles pressing teasingly lightly over your clothed core. “I bet you want these pants off, huh? You wanna take ‘em off for me?”

You nod obediently, kicking off your shoes before you wiggle your leggings and underwear off your hips awkwardly, lifting your legs up onto the bench to tug them off your ankles. Doctor Kim takes them and places them in the corner of the room by the door, and by the time he comes back, you’ve crossed your legs, leaning forward so that your sweater hem covers your naked center.

His eyes fall down to that dip in the hem, darkening. His fingers come up to lazily tug at his tie, loosening it and undoing his top shirt button so that the white pressed fabric parts, revealing a golden upper chest. “You sure seem to like that, don’t you?”

You frown. “Like what?”

“Acting innocent like that.” He’s in front of you again, hands immediately wrapping around your thighs, and the touch is electric, making you more aware of how naked you are. “There won’t be any of that innocence left when I’m done with you,” he promises lowly, before bending down to capture your lips again.

You let yourself be taken over by him, drunk on the arousal that glows warm within you. The heat your own body is enough that you don’t notice the missing presence of a palm resting on your inner thigh, until your sweater is shifting and something ice cold is slipping between your folds.

You hiss in a breath and jerk in his grasp, causing him to shush you, lips still firmly attached to you, though they leave your mouth and migrate southward, nibbling along your jawline up to your ear. “The vibrator,” he explains gruffly, “I’m going to turn it on. Just relax.”

Your legs shift, ankles uncrossing slightly so that you’re more open to him, though you can’t bear to open your eyes, trying to stop the nerves from getting to you.

The moment he turns it on your back arches from the immediate shockwave of pleasure that radiates from that tiny yet strong vibe held directly against your clit. You swallow your moan, breathing heavily through your nose as you fight to keep quiet, letting the mechanic buzz fill the silence instead.

“Is it good?” the doctor questions, making you tremble as his lips dip lower, brushing over the column of your neck with just the slightest hint of tongue. You nod feverishingly, attempting to push your pelvis forward for more of it, rocking your hips in small circles to increase the surface area. The hand still on your thigh tightens, and you open your eyes blearily at the grip. Doctor Kim’s eyes are hard. “It doesn’t sound like it,” he comments flatly, turning up the vibe to a higher setting, making your mouth drop silently open.

“It is good,” you force out, beginning to pant.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I know you want to moan for me, baby. Let me hear you lose control.”

You whine through a closed mouth, eyes screwing shut again in focus as he lets you chase your own please. How could he seriously expect you to moan in front of him? He was basically a stranger, and although the way he pinned your thigh spread for him, holding a sex toy to you as you got off on it was hot, you were still in a room alone with him on a Friday evening, paying for him to bring you to orgasm. He was probably just staring at you, waiting for you to hurry up and come already.

“Stop thinking, Y/n,” he chastises, “stay in the room.” You shake your head, wishing you could, but it’s too late. The weirdness of the situation hits you, and you open your eyes, searching for a clock on the wall.

The price of this 90-hour appointment was practically highway robbery, and all he was doing was something you could’ve done yourself at home. And as your eyes coast around the room and the curve of your spine settles, you realize that what’s worst of all is that he won’t even be able to do it. You’ve lost that thread, the one that leads you over the edge, and he won’t have time to get it back before-

You shoot up straight when a stinging slap lands on your thigh. You gape at the man in front of you in shock, hand instinctively going to the pinkened flesh to soothe it. “Ow!”

You realize belatedly he’d turned off the vibe, now holding it between two fingers and a thumb. It’s shining with your slick, but less than you’d have expected by this point, and he sighs in disappointment and tosses it onto the towel beside you.

You suddenly feel, as he cocks an unimpressed eyebrow and tenses his jaw, like you’re a child being scolded for breaking a vase or skipping class. Your legs tighten up together, and you gather a fistful of sweater fabric in your hand, pushing it down to cover yourself.

“You know why I stopped?”

You nod shamefully, eyes dropping to the carpet below. “You couldn’t do it. There’s something wrong with me, I guess. Sorry for wasting your time.”

He pauses for a long moment. You almost glance up out of curiosity but can’t stand to see the look of disapproval that no doubt resides in his eyes. “No, Y/n,” he explains tiredly, “I can see clearly now that your problem is that you’re too in your own head, and no amount of stimulation can break through an unwilling mind. So, like any good doctor, if something isn’t working for one of my patients then I stop and reassess. What was on your mind?”

You breathe out heavily, not wanting to have to sit and talk about feelings, but he’s not satisfied when you shrug, simply pulling up a stool and waiting for your answer.

Your mouth tightens and you stare at the ceiling. “I just feel stupid,” you admit finally, “like… you’re just standing there waiting for me to cum and I’m just… not. I don’t know.”

Out of your peripheral, you see him nod slowly, processing your words. “Well, no wonder it wasn’t working. You feel pressured to cum.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look back over to him. “Well, yeah, that’s the whole point of this session.”

He just opens his palms out in a shrug. “Of course, we had booked it in for that, but that’s not my only job as a sex therapist. I have clients that come to learn how to better pleasure a partner, clients that want to explore their kinkier sides without judgement, clients that perhaps are wanting to indulge in something that could potentially be dangerous and want a professional to spot them. I’ve had couples come in and have sex with my supervision because they’re trying something new and are concerned about injury. My point is, not everybody comes here for me to simply bring them to orgasm and go.”

You shake your head quickly. “Oh, I wasn’t- I wasn’t trying to say that your job was just-”

“I know, I know,” he soothes, “I just want you to know that sessions with me aren’t a complete failure if the client doesn’t orgasm. Perhaps you need a little more trust and we can work up to it.”

You bite your lip, uncertain. “I can’t really afford a bunch of sessions like that other dude. If you can’t do it today, I’ll just go-”

“How about this?” The doctor rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. With the nearly see-through white shirt rolled up to the elbows, a slackened tie, and straining pants, he strikes a powerful image. “If you promise me to come back, I’ll give you the next session for free. Since you came here expecting to be brought to orgasm, we can call it fair compensation. Today you won’t orgasm. Sound fair?”

You relax a little as you perch on the massage bed. “Okay… But what would we even do then?”

“Like I said, orgasming isn’t the only thing I offer. You mentioned earlier you felt uncomfortable with me waiting for you to come, is that right?” You nod slowly. “Well, perhaps if you didn’t feel that I was expecting anything from you, you could relax more.”

“I don’t understand,” you admit, trailing off.

“Stand up, I have something for you.”

You do so immediately, needing to use the massage bed for support as your knees buckle slightly. The doctor slips a hand under his waistband slightly, drawing your gaze lower to his crotch, where a bulge strains against the fabric.

“I think you would benefit from focussing on yourself a little less,” you hear him say as his hands pop open his pants, dipping into his underwear to pull his straining cock loose, “and focus on me a little more. Do you see how horny you made me, grinding on that vibrator?”

Your eyes widen. You watch his hand, defined by thick veins and delicate bones, stroke himself, a thumb dragging over the slit to spread the beads of precum that were produced. “Is this what you have for me?” you question in confusion.

He laughs. “No, although I do love the way you’re looking at it like a three-course meal. Eyes up,” he commands with a bite of humor in his voice. You hastily obey, and his warm eyes crinkle as he jerks his head to the side. “Let’s go; we’re changing location.”

You frown. “Sorry, what? Changing to where?”

You watch in wonder as he casually strides over to a bookshelf near the far corner of the room, clothes disheveled and leaking cock still in hand. What you had failed to notice when entering the room was a sliding door just past it, the same unassuming wood finish as the shelves. He slides it open, removing the hand from around his dick to wave you through.

Tugging on the hem of your baggy sweater to attempt to cover yourself - though you weren’t sure there was anything of you left to hide - you let him lead you through the small opening into a far darker room. You squint, eyes adjusting, and slowly the gentle light of several flickering candles is enough to see by. They’re scattered around the room, and you notice soon enough that they’re all electric.

“Safety hazard,” the doctor explains. “Me, not the candles.” The rest of the room, in a hazy warm glow, is outfitted in a very different vibe from the previous one. Instead of containing all the erotic bells and whistles, this room could be easily mistaken for a honeymoon suite. On the outskirts are a bar fridge, a few armchairs, and a coffee table, but the main event is the gigantuan bed that takes up almost all the floor space, even more lushly covered with blankets and pillows than the one you had seen in the waiting room.

“Far out,” you breathe, “this is impressive.”

With a rakish grin, he remarks, “what? The purpose-built sex room didn’t do it for you?” Doctor Kim gently slides the door shut behind the two of you, making his way over to a small bluetooth speaker resting on the coffee table. “I had suspected when you responded so well to that kiss that you might be the type to need a comforting environment to keep you in the moment.” He fiddles with the settings, slipping a phone out from his back trouser pocket to select some gentle instrumental song with a muted beat and hypnotic melody. “I’d like to propose a roleplay scenario.”

You bite your lip. “Don’t we… There can’t be much time left of my appointment now, right?”

“Don’t worry about that.” You’re not convinced. He gives you a warm smile, leaning against the arm of the chair. “My next slot is empty. How about we let you book out that one as your compensated session? As far as that pretty little head of yours is concerned, we have all the time in the world. Now: roleplay. Have you done it before?”

You shrug awkwardly. “Not really. I’m not a good actor or anything.”

He shakes his head. You appreciate the way the flickering lights play with shadows over the planes of his face, his neck. “This isn’t the Oscars. And it’s not going to be anything difficult. I was thinking perhaps an anniversary date night. We rented out a fancy hotel room to celebrate. We’ve hand some drinks from the mini fridge,” he waves a hand towards the aforementioned appliance, “and now that the evening is drawing to a close, we’re going to share each other’s company on a more… intimate level.”

You take a deep breath and nod slowly. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you, Doctor Kim, I appreciate your-”

“Shh, baby,” he soothes, pushing off from the armchair to stroll over to you. He waits until he’s in front of you, hands cupping your face tenderly and looking deeply into your eyes, before he continues. “We’re married; this is our anniversary night, remember? I want you to call me Namjoon.”

“Namjoon,” you repeat dreamily, blinking up at him. In the dim lighting, he looks even softer than before. There’s no tension in his face, and his rumpled clothing looks awfully… domestic.

His eyes turn up at the edges with his smile. You feel safe yet weirdly vulnerable with your face in his hands and his gaze deeply focused on you. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

You nod eagerly, just about pushing his hands off you, and his lips quirk up. Without any further words needed, he ducks his head down and slants his mouth across yours, reigniting that flush of want inside you. One of his hands slides around into your hair, playing with it lightly, and the other presses on your jaw, tilting your head back so that he can deepen the kiss. You whimper when you feel his tongue make contact with yours, teasingly swirling inside your mouth, and your hand flies up to curl around his wrist, needing to anchor yourself to him as much as possible.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, pressing his body against yours. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me?”

You pause, feeling his lips keep moving against you, nibbling at your bottom lip when you don’t answer. “Y-yeah.”

“Yeah? You don’t sound like you miss me.” He laughs breathily, taking his hands away from your face. One links up with yours, squeezing your fingers reassuringly, and the other snakes around your back to hold you even tighter against him. “I wanna show you.”

Your eyes flutter uncertainly, so overwhelmed by the sensual kisses he gave you that you only process what he says belatedly. “Huh? Show me what?”

“How much I missed you,” he replies, the arm around your back sliding lower until it’s slipping under your sweater hem to grasp at the flesh of your ass. You tremble, knees going weak. He leans down to your ear, dragging his spit-slicked lips your face like he can’t bear to part with it. His voice is like honey in your ear, whispering in between teasing nips at your earlobe. “Can I show you how much I missed you?”

“Please, show me,” you plead, not even sure what he means by that, but letting him walk you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the bed. He lays you down gently, rubbing soothing circles over your naked flesh. You gasp with anticipation when he drops to his knees in front of your legs, pushing your knees apart to slip in between.

The bed is comfortable and the room is perfectly tiered for a romantic environment. You try and keep yourself grounded, letting yourself drink in the sensation of his hands on you.

“Can you scoot forward a little for me? Legs over my shoulders.” Namjoon’s instructions are easy to comprehend but harder than expected to execute. Your body feels a little dead, and you shuffle your butt lower, thigh muscles complaining when you lift them up. He helps you, hands on the backs of your knees to hook them up onto himself. “You look so beautiful, spread out for me. Will you let me have a little taste?”

If orgasms weren’t so hard to come by, you’re sure you would’ve come from that statement alone. You make a whined noise of agreement, shuffling your shoulders down the bed so that you can arch your back a little more, needing to feel him.

With palms sliding up to wrap around and hold down your thighs, the doctor gives you no other warning before he descends on you, slurping noisily against your center. Your mouth drops open and you clench around nothing automatically, simultaneously embarrassed by the loud sound and turned out by his enthusiasm.

He wastes no time in teasing, instead devouring you like a starved man, putting everything into it. Your brain has no time to process the sensations your nerves are being assaulted with; his tongue is inside you and his nose is bumping your clit, then he moves up to wrap his lips around that little bud with a demanding suck, slicking his chin with your wetness. He changes from place to place, never the same speed or intensity. If your lack of orgasms are like a failing heart, Namjoon going down on you is the defibrillator, the shock to your system that you needed.

Your fingers clench tightly onto his hand, moaned-out sighs and shuddering muscles the only sign your body is able to give that he’s doing well. In the back of your lust-addled mind, you feel a single finger slip between your folds, passing over your center to collect wetness before dipping inside. You clench at the intrusion, feeling him groan against you at your tightness.

He crooks that finger, slowly thrusting it in and out like he has all the time in the world, and you whine, mouth dangling open and drooling, eyes clenched tightly shut. With its proven success, it’s not long before that one finger becomes two, and he has you writhing on the bed.

You whimper when he gives your clit a final flat drag of his tongue before lifting his head up again, continuing to work his fingers inside you. “When was the last time I got to make you feel this good, huh? It’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

Your body curls in and you keen as a third finger joins the other two, beginning to provide more of a tight fit, preparing your inner muscles for what was to come. You realize he asked you a question and force your tongue to form words. “I, ah, I can’t think,” you blabber out in a slur.

“Good.” And with that, his mouth is on you again, this time with renewed vigor. When he speaks again, he doesn’t even bother removing his lips from you, lapping at your clit between words. “I want to see you fall apart on my tongue, baby,” he confesses, “gush all over my fingers.”

Like a train hitting you, you feel your nerves deep inside shortcircuit at his words, and you let out a little scream when an orgasm abruptly hits, your legs closing to tighten like a vice around his head as he works you through it, speeding up his tongue and grinding against that rough patch inside you with his fingers as your pussy locks up. Your muscles push against the intrusion, though he refuses to let up as violent tremors wrack your body and leave you shuddering hopelessly under his ministrations.

You don’t realize until wetness hits your temple and slips past your hairline that you’re crying, but when you press a shaky hand against your eyes, they’re soaked with tears. The fact that you’re crying, as well as finally achieving the orgasm that was feeling more and more impossible, just makes your lip tremble harder until you’re sobbing against your hand, beyond overwhelmed.

Your legs are taken off his shoulders without ceremony. They flop limply over the edge of the bed. “Hey, hey,” Namjoon’s voice is concerned, though not surprised or frantic, and you suppose he must deal with this often, “you did it. I’m so proud of you. Do you want me to get you some water, or stay here with you?”

“Stay,” you plead brokenly, voice breaking even on the one syllable. He acquiesces, crawling up on the bed to lie beside you, rubbing your shoulder. You feel yourself calm down slowly with his presence, letting out one shaky exhale. “Fuck.”

“You can say that again,” the doctor jibes. “I don’t mean to be crude, but the way you came like that? It was fucking hot. Shit, I’m harder than a rock right now.”

You laugh breathily, sniffing and wiping away your tears. “I can help with that if you want.”

He swears under his breath. “You can’t say stuff like that. Sex with patients is where I draw the line, and as much as I’m hating that rule right now, I need to keep at least an inch of professionalism here.”

You turn to face him, propping your head up on your hand. “I regret to inform you, Doctor Kim, but I won’t be needing your services after this session. There; now I’m not your patient anymore.”

You watch his pupils dilate, eyebrows narrowing. In mere moments, the more dominant personality from earlier has been brought out again. “Well, then. I’m not going to fuck your tired little pussy, because I’ve worn it out for the day. So if you’d like to give me a helping hand, you better get on your knees.”

#btssmutclub #thekimlinenet #smutcentralnet #knj smut #namjoon x reader smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bts smut #bts x reader smut #namjoon oneshot #namjoon fic #dom namjoon

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softboywriting · 5 years ago

Text

Christmas Kiss | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn have been friends since you were kids. You never meant to fall in love with him, his life and job now make a relationship hard. This Christmas you decide to tell him how you feel, there is only one problem, you’re sick with a cold and you don’t think you’ll get to see him. [fluff] [Christmas themed] [sick/cold] [non au] [friends to lovers]

Word Count: 2.6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Being sick when Shawn comes home from tour for Christmas is not ideal. You felt the cold coming on two days before he was scheduled to land in Toronto. You had plans, big plans with Shawn. It's been ages since he's been able to hang out in person, and you finally have the courage to admit to him that you want to be more than friends. This week was supposed to be a huge life changing event, a Christmas to remember. You did everything you could to stop the onslaught of runny nose and puffy watery eyes; medicine, orange juice, supplements, but to no avail. You are undoubtedly, irrevocably, sick.

Monday morning you wake up to the doorbell for your apartment buzzing non stop. The world feels heavy. You sit up in slow motion it seems and there is nothing you can do but focus on breathing for a moment while you gain your bearings and listen to that awful tinny buzzing from someone wanting into your building. You crawl out of bed and drag yourself to the door, dragging your feet like they're in sticky mud.

"Hello?" You ask, finger on the call button for the front door. Your voice is completely wrecked, absolutely destroyed from coughing. "Hello? Anybody there?"

"It's Shawn."

"Shawn?" You glance at the clock over your couch a few feet away. It's just after nine. "What're you doing here?"

"I got you some stuff. Let me in, it's cold out here." He laughs and you press the door button to let him in.

Moments later he is pushing open the door to your apartment and carrying in bags of stuff. You wrap a blanket off the couch around your shoulders and watch as he unloads bag after bag onto your kitchen island.

"What's this?"

"Medicine, food, gifts." Shawn starts unpacking and setting aside Oreos and some ramen cups. "I stopped by the store for you on my way over with your Christmas gifts."

You shuffle forward and look at the bags. They're full of more groceries than you would usually buy in two weeks. How much does the guy think you eat? And what is with all the junk food? You tug the corner of a bag down and see a bottle of whiskey. "What's this?" You pull out a fifth of Canadian whiskey and give Shawn a look.

"That's for us." He puts away the Oreos and some mac and cheese into a cupboard. "Hot toddies are good for making you sweat out a cold."

"Uh huh. You said “us”? You're not staying."

"The hell I’m not."

"Shawn, you can't get sick. You're a rockstar, you have to sing. You...you have responsibilities."

"Yeah and right now," he pauses and hands you a box of tissues. "My responsibility is my best friend."

Best friend. That packs a punch you didn't expect. A haunting reminder of how he thinks of you, at least, how he presents that he thinks of you. It's hard and it's getting harder, that courage you built up the last few months is withering now like ice in the hot sun. It's just turning to steam before your very eyes. Shit.

"What if you get sick?"

"So what? I've been sick before and I'll be sick again." Shawn wads up the last of the grocery bags and sets aside a bunch of wrapped boxes on the counter. "I've waited four months to be here and to see you. I'm not letting some stupid runny nose stop me."

"I'm not going to be any fun." You sniff, eyes watering heavily. "I'm just going to sleep and be miserable."

Shawn rolls his eyes. "I know you. You'll want to watch Lion King and drink peppermint tea until you're so tired you pass out. I'm prepared for that."

"Wow. Just read me like a book why don't you?"

He grins. "Go sit down. I'll make some tea and we'll talk and catch up."

"We talk everyday."

"But it's different when we're together."

"Yeah but..." You chew on your lip and he lays his hand on your shoulder. "Never mind. Thank you for coming over."

"You'd do the same for me." He cups your cheek and you turn your eyes up at him, sure that you must look terrible. "You're welcome."

His soft gaze breaks you. You step forward and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face to his chest. Your fingers curl tight into his shirt and he holds your head with both hands.

"I missed you," he says, fingers working into your hair and scratching at your scalp with his blunt fingertips. "Things aren't the same without you."

"I missed you too." You murmur, eyes closed and you can almost, just barely, smell his cologne. Maybe your one nostril is unblocked. Maybe...just maybe you just want to be immersed in that familiar scent so bad it's appearing in your mind.

_____________________

Shawn spends the rest of the day with you. He makes you tea and warm whiskey spiked drinks. You watch the Lion King, Mulan and Moana. Just after six the sun starts to slip behind the horizon, your living room becoming dark. Shawn's arm finds its way around your shoulders and he leans his head on your head. You want to tell him. You need to tell him how you feel.

"Tomorrow is Christmas."

You nod slightly. "Sure is."

"My parents are in Barbados." Shawn chuckles. "It was a gift for their anniversary, but the cruise got rescheduled. I was surprised when they said they'd be gone for Christmas. It's not like mom to miss it."

"Maybe they just really needed a vacation."

Shawn sits up and runs a hand over his unruly long hair. "Probably. I know mom's been having a hell of a time finding clients for work. And dad...dad is always working hard, a hundred and fifty percent everyday." He sighs. "I'm glad they taught me a good work ethic y'know, but I wish they'd take it easy. It's not like it was when Aaliyah and I were kids. They don't have to try so hard."

You lay your hand on Shawn's and he turns it over, threading his fingers between yours and rubbing absentmindedly with his thumb. "I suppose parents always want to provide for their kids, even if they are rockstars." You giggle and he gives you a look.

He hates when you call him rockstar. He says it feels like it cheapens things, makes you less than him. He doesn't want you to think of him as a rockstar but as your best friend.

"Are you parents flying in for the holiday?"

You shake your head. "No, they couldn't afford it this year."

"Why'd they move to Florida again?"

"Mom wanted to live on the beach." You roll your eyes and he squeezes your hand. "Dad also got a job down there with the construction company he works for."

"Ah. So, do you want to spend Christmas together?"

"I figured that was the plan." You look to the window where it's snowing heavily outside. "I didn't think you'd want to drive home across Toronto in this weather."

"I don't." Shawn pulls his hand away to brush his hair back with it while he reaches for his drink. "I don't mind taking the couch."

"You know what you need?" You say, getting up and going over to the kitchen. You grab a few hair ties out of the bowl that holds your keys. "These."

"Ponytails?"

"Yeah. Your hair is ridiculous and you keep pushing it out of your face every two minutes." You stand in front of him and he leans forward for you. Skillfully you gather up the top of his hair into two little pig tails on the top of his head. He looks outrageous and you can't help the ugly laugh that burbles out.

"I look stupid don't I?" Shawn asks, half laughing at your reaction. He stands and looks in the decorative mirror beside the TV. "Ohmygod. This is my new look." He turns to look at you where you've collapsed on the couch laughing and struggling to breath through your clogged nose. "Goodbye headbands, hello pigtails."

"Stop! Shawn I'm gonna die!"

"Nope. You did this." He poses, peace sign over his face while making duck lips. "High fashion baby."

You start coughing, laughter quickly succumbing to a wheezing fit and hacking. You down the rest of your tea, just warm from sitting on the table too long, and take a few deep breaths.

Shawn drops to his knees beside you, hand on your chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I made you laugh too hard, I'm so sorry. What can I do? How do I help?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." You cough a few more times and grab Shawn's mug, downing his drink. "I just laughed too hard. It's alright. I'm okay, just a little tired now."

"Come on, let's settle back down on the couch." Shawn grabs your arms and sits you up right on the sofa. "I'll grab some extra blankets and we'll sleep out here."

"But-"

"No buts. I'll be right back."

You close your eyes and lean your head back on the cushions. You're dying. Sickness is wreaking havoc on your body. Shawn's wreaking havoc on your heart, and you're absolutely destroying your mental capacity with liquor and cough medicine. You can't wait. You have to tell Shawn. It's now or never. Balls to the wall. You just have to-

"Are you okay?" Shawn's voice breaks through your thoughts and you open your eyes. "You look a little out of it."

"I love you."

"I love you too?" He says sinking down on the couch and flopping the blankets he was carrying over your lap. "What's with the sudden affection?"

"No, I mean-" You hold your head as it throbs. Maybe whiskey and NyQuil don't mix. In fact, you know they don't. "I am in love with you."

"I know."

"W-what?"

Shawn brushes your hair back off your clammy face and looks at you with those soft hazel brown eyes you adore. "I've known for a long time.”

“I-I Wha-”

“It's okay, don’t panic. I'm in love with you too. I know I always said that when the time comes I'll know, and I can't pinpoint the moment it happened but one day I woke up and I realized my whole world is waiting for me in a tiny apartment in Toronto." He chuckles. "I've been working on a way to tell you, a way to make it work with my job. I haven't found that way yet, and I hoped you would wait for me, though I didn't expect that. So I never told you. I couldn't- I won't hurt someone like that, especially not you."

"I-I don't know what to say." You stare at him, unsure of your reality as your head swims. Is this real? Did you fall asleep? Are you in some kind of cold medicine induced mini coma? "I'm asleep aren’t I?"

"You're not." Shawn presses his hand to your forehead. "You've got a fever though."

"This isn't real. You're not even here. I'm going crazy." You slump over and Shawn covers you with blankets. "I'm just coping aren't I? Stressed myself out so far that I'm dreaming of telling you the truth."

"You're awfully self aware for a dream."

"That's just what dream Shawn would say."

He chuckles. "I'm getting you some Advil. Relax and I'll be right back with a very real glass of water and two very real pain relievers."

You close your eyes once more and quickly you begin to drift off to sleep. You vaguely remember Shawn sitting your head up to take the Advil and water. But after that everything is a blur of sleep and muddled nonsense dreams.

_____________________

Christmas morning you wake up on the couch. Your body is stiff, achy from sickness and the unsupportive couch cushions. Beside you is a glass of water and some cold medicine on the coffee table. There is a lump of blankets by the other end of the couch and you can see a mop of hair sticking out, two pigtails very visible.

Then reality hits you. If you're waking up now with Shawn asleep in your living room that means last night was very real. It means...you confessed your feelings and Shawn, well, he confessed them back. Excitement, hope and terror are quite a cocktail of emotions. They make your stomach lurch, your heart flutter and your hands shake. What happens now? Where do things go from here?

"Hey," Shawn's groans, peeking over his blankets at you. "How's the fever?"

"Good? I think? I just woke up."

"Mmm." He sits up and stretches. "It's Christmas."

"Yeah." You look over to the tree in the corner where there are boxes from your parents, your sister and Shawn all waiting to be unwrapped. "I can wait though."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be the only one to unwrap gifts."

Shawn laughs and grabs a few of the boxes from under the tree. "I brought my gifts too, the ones my parents and Aaliyah left for me at my apartment."

"Oh. I thought you brought all of those for me, I thought it was a lot but I didn't want to say anything."

"No." Shawn passes you a box with your name on it. "You definitely deserve this many, but I didn't go crazy."

"You've been crazy." You smile and he gives you a look that turns into a smirk. "Did...did you mean what you said last night?"

"Every word of it." Shawn sits across from you on the couch with his box in his lap. He picks at the paper a bit. "It's okay, like if you don't want to do anything right now. I know my life is insane and yours isn't anywhere near as hectic." He chews his lower lip. "I couldn't ever ask you to commit to my life and the distance and-"

"Shawn."

"Yes?"

"We'll figure it out."

His eyes light up and he stares at you, seemingly bewildered. "You want to try? You want to be in a relationship? With me? I-I'm- you're sure?"

"Shawn I haven't wanted anything more in the last year. We already make the distance work as friends. What's the difference in doing it as a couple?" You sniff and wipe your eyes that are watering from your clogged sinuses. "I think the distance has only made us stronger friends and-"

Shawn leans in to kiss you, hands on your legs and you stop him at the last second with your fingers against his lips. "Please?" he murmurs.

"You're so dumb."

"Because I'm going to kissing you and you're sick?"

"Yes."

He grins and grabs your face, pressing his forehead against yours. "I guess we'll just have to be the couple that shares everything."

"This is not what that means."

"I don't care." He tries to kiss you again and you groan, stopping him. "Shawn, you're gonna get sick."

"I don't care." Another attempted kiss. "I've waited a long time for this."

You cup his face and push him back a bit so he will stop trying to infect himself. “I have too but I'm not going to kiss you and get you sick. And when you've got this cold I will not kiss you then either."

"Yeah you will. Don't lie."

"I won't." You giggle and he pushes forward, leaning you back until you're laying against the arm of the couch with his body covering yours. "Is this for real?"

"Very real." He kisses your nose. "I don't want to wait." He kisses your head. "I've been alone for a long while this feels...it feels so right. Please let me kiss you."

"Alright." You close your eyes and he presses his lips to yours. It's soft, sweet and everything you ever imagined. "Happy?"

"Yes," he whispers, smiling against your lips. "Merry Christmas darling."

You giggle at the pet name. He knows it's one of your favourites. "Merry Christmas Shawn."

End

______________________

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes non au #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes storites #shawn mendes christmas fic #shawn peter raul mendes

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lovesaadiqa · 3 years ago

Text

BBL Costs, Prep + Recovery

Im booked!! I talked to a few friends who I know either got this surgery or is getting this done. I wanted one since forever but I wanted my teeth done first. The deciding factor came down to my birthday plans.

Originally I was going to do a birthday tour. First weekend of October in Miami for carnival, 2nd weekend in Atl for Freak Nik, 3rd weekend in Bahamas and finally Nola for the finale. Well Nola was just hit with a storm so yeah that’s out. Once I totaled up the flights, hotels, food and spending money.. I was like hmm, I can get a fat ass and started this process. Immediately looked into surgeon and Dr. Pena was my favorite, his bodies come out so mf snatched, he’s located in Columbia. Columbian surgeons can take out way more fat than American doctors however, the fatality rate is stupid and ultimately the factor that made me choose an American doctor.

The next step was choosing the surgeon for the body I have and the one I want. I weigh 151 and im 5′6″ I’m considered a “skinny bbl”. I started researching doctors in Atlanta (so I could recover at home) and Miami (like duh). I chose to go with Dr. Desouza in Miami with CG Cosmetics for a few reasons. First, I love the look of his skinny bbl’s on other women with the same body type, weight and height as me. Secondly, he was having a special for the end of the year (lipo 360, bbl, jplasma for $6500 for the surgeon I wanted) this almost sold me but it was the surgery date!! Jplasma is skin tightening procedure to help with loose skin, you can only get this with lipo. When they perform lipo they created canals under your skin to remove the fat.. well those same canals are essential when getting Jplasma.

Ok so I decided on the surgeon, contacted the cosmetic group and had a consultation which is pretty much just front, side and back view pictures.. I think they use this to make sure you don’t need a tummy tuck prior to surgery. They also asked me questions about previous surgeries and if i’ve ever had anesthesia. The next step went pretty quickly, we talked about what would be lipo’d (abs, waist, back.. I wanted inner thighs, an additional 2k, but was advised to wait on my pre-op to decide), when I wanted to book and how I'd pay. My consult was on August 30th.. I bitched up when she attempted to take my payment. I am a money hoarder and spending that much money made me feel like I was being financially irresponsible. I called one of my Aunt’s who I felt wouldn’t judge me and also give me sound advise. We talked about my fears, why I was getting the procedure and of course money. My Aunt gave me excellent advice, reassured me and is a professional CNA who offered to accompany me so yeah I dare not turn that down, lol. August 31, 2021, I called my coordinator (the contact between me and my surgeon) and told her I wanted to book, she asked me when I’d be ready and I requested first available which was 9/20/21!! Excited is an understatement.. I'd be 24 days post op on my birthday. After I calmed down I paid in full for multiple reasons: had to in order to secure the date, all surgeries book in this year had to be paid in full, it was the only way to get the discount.. My coordinator gave me so much information I couldn’t see straight (I was also high as shit off life thinking about a fat ass and me in the same sentence).. she emailed + texted everything, congratulated me and we hung up.

I get the emails: “raise you hemoglobin with these vitamins” I purchased vitamin C $2, folic acid $2, iron $3 and floradix $35 - amazon, I take them as directed on the bottle and start eating my ass off (just to give my surgeon more to work with, lol). Talking to one of my gf’s I realize I have to be cleared for surgery?!?! What? I open my email and sure enough I have to have blood work done 15-20 prior to surgery, it was 9/3 and a Friday.. SHIT!! I fly over to an Piedmont Wellstreet urgent care facility as recommended by my friend (she started this process as well so I was crazy grateful for her experience and that she shared it with me). Urgent care was full but opened the next day, my ass was in that line at 7:32 am, I was the 13th person in line and they opened at 8. I get to the desk and my appointment is at 10:30 and I'd have to pay the office visit fee to be seen, it was $155. I came back at my allotted time and was told how much all of my labs would be.. $302. My labs were to be processed and faxed to my surgeon by 9/9 because Labor Day weekend so.. yeah.

I discuss accommodations with my Aunt and realize it’s cheaper, safer and more beneficial for me to go to a recovery house. I search high and low baby and most of them were booked.. found one regardless with lymphatic massages included called Flawless Recovery House. This wasn’t my 1st-6th option but the one with availability on my surgery date so I paid a deposit to hold onto my spot. Total was $1312 for 5 days with 5 massages, I paid a $200 deposit. Next, I booked my flight, round trip $116 with Delta. My surgery date is on a Monday, I have to have my pre-op done on the Saturday prior so I booked a hostel from the 18th-20th on booking.com for $66. I know I could have gotten an airbnb or hotel room but I wanted this experience. I want to go to Amsterdam and stay in a hostel so I need to know what to expect. Also I cannot party, smoke, drink or eat before surgery so fuck it.. a hostel will do, lol.

I smoke big fucking weed and watched someone else’s bbl journey today and realize if I fail the drug test, my surgery will be cancelled and it’ll cost me $1500 to reschedule. Boy the shit sent me into panic mode like I've never experienced before, only to find out the weed isn’t the issue nicotine is, it slows down your heart rate. I can smoke weed just not out of a wood or a rillo and nicotine takes 3-4 days to get out of your system so a bitch barely made it. I just won't be smoking until I get back home lol. Just to be super informative no alcohol, diabetic meds, cocaine, pcp or anything that will fool with your heart or makes your bleed. Today is 9/11 and im one week out from my pre-op... my body is a joke cause I haven’t gained a single pound and normally it’s nothing for me to put on weight. I took my acrylics off, when you’re put to sleep they monitor your oxygen levels with those clamps they put on your fingers and they aren't the most accurate when you have on dark polish or acrylics. I also cannot wear lashes cause when they go to fill this ass in I'll be laying flat on my face. I mean my hair didn’t have requirements but I figure since im naked I might as well be bald.. y'all should see me rn, I look very much like a young man but im hype. I’ll be back later to tell y'all what I pack and purchase prior to my flight. Imma put the dates at the end of each update.. today is 9/11/21

My surgery group send me list of supplies that I would need and the cost came to roughly $1100. Naive me was definitely going to purchase everything on the list from them until I saw Leslie’s (@prettyhaute - on ig) bbl vlog. I went on amazon and got away with murder. Below I’ll list what I purchased and the price I paid versus what the surgery center was quoting me.

Faja - I paid $74.69 - Quoted $160.50 || BBL Pillow - $26.99 - Qouted $42.80 || Arnica pills - $8.95 - Quoted $37.45 || Compression socks - $13.99 for 3 - Quoted $10.70 for 1 || Foams - $17.99 for 3 - Quoted $64.20 for 3 || Scar Cream $$29.82 - Quoted $80.25 || Arnica Gel - $7.92 - Quoted $21.40 ||

There a shit ton of items on the suggested list that I didn't purchase but way more items that wasn’t on the list I still need for instance:

Crocs, benadryll, robe, adult diapers, straws, earplugs, liquid iv, stool softener, antiseptic body wash, avocado float, back board, urinal, pineapple juice, throat calm, 3 moo-moo’s and a massage roller (the crocs are the only thing on this list that cost more than $20). My flight is at 7:15a tomorrow and im so damn nervous but excited. I will spend Saturday and Sunday gallivanting around Miami and then body , ody, ody, ody, ody, ody. I still have to send my entire itinerary to my aunt but I think im all set. 9/17/21

Pre-op was packed but I went on Saturday and was in and out in an hour. I was charged for a covid $80, 3 post-op massages $150 and a drug test $20. I went over my clearance paper work with a medical assistant who also took 9 before pics of me. Keep in mind, your surgery can be cancelled or reschedule if all of you labs aren’t at the surgery center on pre-op day. I cannot stress how important it is to take your labs with you!!! Mine were faxed over from urgent care but I was also provided copies which I took with me. The photos were sent directly to my surgeon to analyze before surgery. From my knowledge, I was also to be fitted for my faja but that never happened, do NOT leave pre-op without a faja!!! I paid for 3 massages from CG totaling $150 which I regret badly. I do NOT recommend getting massages from the surgery center. There are 4-5 different surgeons performing surgeries on any given day and they do at minimum 4 surgeries per day, that’s at least 15-20 different girls with the same surgery and post-op date. CG had 2 massage therapists to drain 15-20 girls. I was drained for 9 mins, your drain massages should last at least 45 mins for maximum drainage. I only used 1 of the 3 massages I paid for and was denied a refund. That is a huge downside to CG once they have your money good fucking luck getting it back! Ps. Ellie was a royal fucking cunt!!!!! She told my medical assistant that I didn’t need a faja so I was never fitted for one and woke up out of surgery with a binder on versus a faja like I should have. I wanted to slap the shit out of her and took the charge on the chin but I wanted my surgery so I refrained.. I was put on a 12 hour fast and contacted an hour after pre-op with my surgery address and time. My fast started at 7pm the day before surgery and my surgery time wa at 6:30a, there was a $300 for showing up to surgery late. All I could bring to surgery was compression socks and a faja (that I didn’t have), I was instructed to bathe with dial (the orange one) before surgery to make sure my incisions weren’t infected, no lotion, perfume, deodorant, makeup, nails, lashes, no jewelry/piercing or hair products and no personals ie, purse money, wallet also you will need a companion or surgery will be cancelled. I’ll upload all my paperwork at the end. Surgery day arrive at the surgery center at 6:15 am how about the entire fucking staff was late! Bitch I was outside in Miami alone with compression socks on and a moo moo, LIVID. No one arrived until 7:10 am, baby I wanted to kill everyone but fuck it, it was go time. I’m escorted to a room, changed into a paper gown, piss tested, my labs were reviewed again and finally my surgeon comes in! We were in the exam room alone which was weird cause I was asshole naked but he kept it 1000% professional, he asked me what I wanted and I say “the fattest ass” he looked me dead in my eyes without a single hesitation and said “it’ll heal like a diaper” LMAO. I showed him areas that I wanted lipo’d to death and he marked me up, I didn’t aka e picture of my mark ups but shit was rolling by then, he walked out I put my paper gown back on and the anesthesiologist walked in. I expressed my biggest concerns to him, I didn’t want to die and I didn’t want to wake up during surgery. He explain why the drug test was so important because certain street drugs will have adverse effect with the anesthesia. My anesthesiologist walked me up to the surgery room and I hopped on the table, they put massage boots on both of my feet and inserted an iv, the mask was put on my face and my heart rate went to heaven, I wanted to shit myself bro. The anesthesiologist told me to make a tight fist, I asked what time it was, 8:08am.. I woke up to a nurse helping me into a wheelchair with a binder around my waist and I was scream crying because my entire body ached, I didn't know where I was and the anesthesia is no hoe. I was escorted to my recovery house’s transportation van and taken to my damn bed.

I chose Flawlesss Recovery House with Ms. Opal. I paid a $200 deposit before 2 weeks before surgery and the balance the day I left. I opted for a 5 day stay. I loved it there bro and couldn’t imagine trying to recover at a hotel or air bnb! There were nurses there 24-7, I was roomed with one other girl but the house had a total of 4 bedrooms, one of which no one occupied and the door was always shut but my room was the only room with 2 beds, the others had 3 beds. I had a call button, it was love, the nurses came expeditiously when I rang it. They made 3 home cooked meals per day and I don’t eat meat, they accommodated me with no hesitation. I loved it man. So couple hours after surgery I attempted to use the bathroom on my own and blacked out, the anesthesia is really fucking strong and took an entire day to wear off (for me), the nurses helped me pee in a cup until then. Post op day 9/21/21, I went in to make sure I looked good, got a faja finally and received that lousy as drain. Back to the recovery house I was able to walk finally w/o passing out and in went my foams, I also could pee by myself with the use of a urinal. I was constipated for 2 days, first bowel movement was on post op day 2. I paid for an independent massage therapist named Tatiana, she used a ultrasound machine to massage me so I cancelled her. When I took my faja off for my massage it was washed and dried by the time I was done, I took a shower and put my faja on with my foams. I cancelled Tatiana because don’t let nobody use no machine on you until you are at least 2 weeks post op, hand massages only. All the girls were getting massaged by the literal best massage therapist (in my opinion) her name is Brittany, I could cry she was EVERYTHING, I was tender but she put the painful massage theory to bed! She taught me how to drain myself and how to open my incisions without the q-tip looking thing. In 45 mins she drained 5 of those doggy pad things worth of fluid off of me. I received 4 massages in 5 days. I left on Saturday 9/25/2021 on Sunday, back in Atlanta, I received my 5th massage and that when I was told I have not one but 2 seromas. I swear on everything I love it was because everyone wakes up from surgery with a faja on but not me (Fuck you Ellie, lil bitch) I had on a binder (its what they use for tummy tucks). The lady who did my 1st massage in Atlanta was Bri, not gone post her ig cause she did a damn good massage but when I asked her to syringe drain me the good sis stuck this long ass needle in my seroma but could get the fluid out, cancelled her too (the massage was good asf tho but nah). Tired and tried I bit the bullet and booked a packed with Dream Body ($455 for 5 massage, I think, don’t quote me look it up on there site and follow them on ig) because they are the biggest name in Atlanta, Jayda Wayda goes to them. The most painful massage yet, yes Michelle lil ass is so strong but she will get the fluid up off you. She made me tear up bad and no matter how much I screamed or even tried to push her off of me she understood the assignment, Michelle helped me get back into my faja after my massage and told me my faja was too big and to have it altered. She recommended a lady on ig @siri2sir but to know me is to know I altered my shit myself. Allow me to tell y'all, I look good asf!!!!!!! 10/4/2021

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blazehedgehog · 4 years ago

Link

So rather than attach it to the last (rather large) post thread, I’ll start a new one. If you didn’t catch it on Twitter, friends managed to raise some money through nothing but sheer good will and I ended up booking a stay at the same hotel we should have gotten for free.

I’m starting a new thread because I want to ask a question, but first I want to clarify and provide a better timeline of everything that’s happened. This isn’t exact, but it’s as close as my memory can remember right now:

Late 2019/Early 2020: Whoever owns my apartment complex sells it to a new company in California. The complex is in Nevada. It’s a big apartment complex; it used to be two separate ones that were right next to each other and they merged to create a “project” that houses something like 150-200 units. If you consider families, somewhere in the realm of 300-700 people live here.

April/May 2020: We get a notice on our door announcing that our new owners want to renovate the complex. Every single unit. It’s such a big ordeal that they have to put in to get funding from the State of Nevada to do it. The initial claim is that they will move us out of our apartment unit in to a new unit for up to a month or two (at no cost to us) while they renovate. More information will come in summer 2020 during a town hall meeting we will attend in person. I expect that with the pandemic starting and “shelter in place” orders going out that there’s no way they’d be dumb enough to go through with any of this. The notice ends with them pleading with people not to take this as a cue to move out. In the months to follow, we spied at least four people who were smart enough to get out before the renovation hit. We considered it, but the housing authority we have to rent through went dead silent the moment the pandemic ramped up and have yet to say even a single word to us (even now).

Late October/Early November 2020: The town hall meeting finally happens, online, in a Zoom meeting. Three people in California dictate to the 40 or 50 tenants (maybe more) that attend the meeting how this is going to go. Plans have changed: the renovation will take place across ten days. Very tight schedule. In and out as fast as possible. In batches of 4-5 units at a time, going alphabetically across the complex, units will be renovated. New paint, new carpet, new cabinets, new sinks, new toilet, new shower, new appliances, redone balcony. Renovation teams will come in at 8am and work until 5pm. After 5pm, we will be allowed to return to our unit and sleep there. We will be allowed to keep one bed (per person) and one TV, which the renovation team will move out of the way during the day and return to our unit when they leave. We are also told we will be getting a sealable plastic tub to store personal items (toiletries and such) that the renovation team will also handle. We are assured they will be adhering to rigorous sanitization standards, with multiple temperature checks daily, masks, and gloves. During the day, we are free to go wherever, but the complex will be setting up what they call a “hospitality trailer” -- a communal space for everyone currently effected by the renovation to hang out inside, together. There will be port-a-potties and wifi. We’re told meals will also be provided, possibly in the trailer, but details are unspecific. We’re also told some landscaping will be done. All told, between renovating units and landscaping, they say the whole process from beginning to end will take 18 months or more. Tenants in the Zoom call ask questions -- if we don’t want to stay at the hospitality trailer, we’re told we should consider staying with family during the day. They ignore multiple questions from people asking if this will cause the rent to go up.

December 2020: Renovation begins, starting with apartments in the A block. We’re somewhere near the middle of the alphabet, and going by the ten-days-per-unit estimate, we’re expecting the renovation to hit us around March-ish, maybe even as late as April. I develop an ugly toothache; my face swells up. I do a phone visit with a dentist and he prescribes me antibiotics and schedules me for an appointment on January 18th to pull the tooth.

Early January 2021: Going to check the mail one day, I notice it feels like they’re spending a long time on the first few sets of units. Then, all of a sudden, renovations surge ahead, and units worryingly close to our letter start putting tarps up over their balconies, signalling they’re either mid-reno, or at least packing.

January 18th, 2021: Tooth is “fine” (big cavity, no pain) but we discuss options for pulling multiple bad teeth with this problem tooth, since a lot of my upper teeth aren’t in great shape. Will require multiple rounds of surgery to remove them all and set up replacements. First round of surgery is on February 24th. I immediately wonder if we’re going to get called early for renovation and it’ll land simultaneously with the surgery. I try not to think about it.

January 30th, 2021: We receive a notice that our apartment’s number is due. It’s post-dated, which means the notice is late. We’re supposed to have 45 days notice, and the move-out date listed in the notice is February 23rd. By the 45 day rule, this notice should’ve arrived January 9th. There’s also a degree of confusion: the notice was delivered to our apartment, but the notice is addressed to the apartment below us. Parts of the notice still mention our apartment number. We call the front office for clarification, and they tell us that the notice was indeed meant for the people below us. According to them, we’re in the clear for now. “You’re close...” tells us the person on the phone, “But it’s not your time yet.” We consider preparing early, but it sounds like we have to use the provided packing materials for organizational reasons when the movers come.

February 5th: I record my Patreon Podcast. I mention the renovation. If you consider 10 days per renovation, based on when the notice was actually delivered, I’m expecting we’re going to get our notice in the next few days.

February 8th: We get a knock on the door. A man from the front office is checking in with us to see how packing is going. Packing because the notice was actually for us. It was for all four units in this block. We tell him: we called. They said it wasn’t our time yet. He just kind of shrugs and asks if we need boxes. Of course we do. Our 45 day notice has been cut down to less than 14 days. On top of that, we’ve got doctors appointments and things coming up that’s going to eat in to this time. He says everything has to be in the office-provided UHaul boxes. Even if we have items already in cardboard boxes, they have to be specifically repacked in UHaul boxes.

February 13th: After days of trying to contact my dentist office via email, I finally get a hold of them via text. I try to reschedule my appointment, but the receptionist tells me it’s just another consultation, not surgery. I hope she’s right. The stress of all of this is making it hard to get packing as fast as we need to.

February 15th: My Mom tells me she’s managed to book an appointment for her first round of covid-19 vaccinations. Unfortunately, it’s on February 23rd, the day we’re being moved out.

February 16th: We talk to the people below us, an elderly couple. They’re panicking about packing because they have so much stuff. They mention that the front office booked them a hotel for the duration of their renovation. All they needed was a doctor’s note proving they needed it. Given that my 75 year old mother has a doc appointment literally the next day, this seems like extremely good timing. After doing curbside pickup for a grocery order that day, we pass the movers on our way back in as they are loading a unit in to their Ryder truck. None of them that I see are wearing masks or gloves.

February 17th: Doc visit happens, she implies that he kind of blew her off. She’s had chronic pain in her hands and knees for years, and in particular, the pain in her hands has been getting bad, fast. She wraps her thumb in sports tape because bending it hurts. She used to be a waitress, she used to be a cake decorator, she did data entry for a couple years, and now she’s dabbling with painting. Her carpal tunnel is severe and its accentuated with arthritis. Doctor just kind of shrugs it off, tells her if it gets worse to come back in a few months, even though arthritis can kill people if not treated properly. Still, he writes her a cursory note for the apartment front office. She talks to them and they’re very glad she contacted them about this; it sounds like the kind of thing that’s only available to people who ask, since presumably the owners don’t want to shell out $900,000+ rooming the entire complex in a hotel. Either way, we’re excited; maybe this renovation won’t be so bad. They tell us the name of the hotel and where its located.

February 18th: While doing laundry in anticipation of packing things up for the hotel/renovation, we happen to catch someone in the laundry room who just got back in to her apartment after her reno finished. She tells us a horror story: everything they told us in the Zoom meeting was a lie. They are renovating way more than 4 units at a time, they aren’t going alphabetically anymore, and she theorizes they’re going with a cheaper renovation team because half of her apartment straight up wasn’t done. The new tile was cheap plastic, which was already gouged by the time she got there. No new fridge, no new shower or tub, no new toilet. “Those will be happening this summer,” she tells us. Sinks got replaced, but the new sinks are apparently bigger than the old ones, leaving less counter space (a particular problem in the bathroom). Carpets were new, but already a dirty mess because of the movers. She had to go around and pick up nails stuck in the carpet that were left behind by the renovators. Since they didn’t take the fridge, she got to keep her food in there, which was important for her because she had special dietary food that needed to be refrigerated. The bad news? Some of that food was stolen. She had a broom and a dust pan stolen, too. She mentions how poor communication has been. We mention the hotel, and she lights up. She didn’t stay in her apartment either, they put her up in the hotel, too. So at least there’s that silver lining. Though she regrets it, because they damaged her TV while she was away. She finally helps clarify the food situation for us, too: we’ll be receiving a “food voucher” to pay for our meals, whatever that means.

February 19th: My Mom was supposed to call the front office to confirm we got the hotel, but in all the confusion, she didn’t get around to it. We’ll have to wait the entire weekend to get confirmation. But if the elderly couple below us got a room, and the lady we spoke to at laundry got a room, it sounds like we’re a lock.

February 22nd: The front office checks in on us again, shrugs their shoulders at how behind we are on packing, and offers us more boxes. They only give us large boxes; we need small, medium and especially rolls of packing tape. They mention they’ll have more later once they open the storage unit, but we never get any. Across this entire ordeal, we’ve only gotten a single roll of packing tape. We bought several rolls of our own after being tired of waiting. Front office guy says our fridge is being replaced, but we can still keep food in our old one and we’ll just “come in and change it out.” Whatever that means. Later, after getting off the phone, we learn we were rejected for the hotel. The doctor’s note wasn’t good enough and the head office in California denied our request. My Mom tries to contact her doctor again to get a more detailed note, but he doesn’t return her call. We’re going to be living out of the car for the next ten days. We talk about protesting this; by stopping packing right now and refusing to leave, but eventually decide that would be a bad idea. We don’t want to risk the movers breaking any of our things. A couple friends start spreading around my paypal.me link in the hopes of raising money for us to stay at a hotel. They raise a little over $200, but it’s hard to justify spending that on a hotel.

February 23rd, Morning: By this point, we’re running on empty. No sleep, physically exhausted, stressed out of our minds. Both of us on the verge of tears several times. With everything going on, we’re a little over halfway done packing and there’s no time left. We quickly move from “pack everything” to “pack what’s important so the movers don’t have to touch it.” Whatever we can’t finish, the movers will pack for us. At 7:30am the movers arrive, and they knock on the door at 8am. They are very polite. They are all wearing masks and gloves. We tell them they are nowhere near ready, and they offer to do our unit last. We do the best we can and leave the rest to them. On our way out, we talk to the elderly couple that lives below us, who claim the moving truck won’t be enough to hold everything in their apartment. It’s a big truck and a small apartment. I find that hard to believe. We go park somewhere and doze in the car until my Mom’s vaccination appointment at 10am. More friends, some of them with very large followings, start spreading the paypal.me link around. Momentum begins to build.

February 23rd, Midday: We get to the vaccination place only to realize we forgot some things at the apartment. We quickly jog back across town and plan to ask them if it’s okay if we can go in to the apartment and retrieve it. When we get there, they’re still unloading the couple below us, and I notice they aren’t just taking UHaul boxes, but regular cardboard boxes, too. Given it’s been almost two hours, this might be second truckful, maybe even the third. I grab the stuff we’re missing and we head back to the vaccination park. Afterwards, we hang out at my brother’s just in case my mom has an allergic reaction to the vaccine and she needs help. She’s fine, and by the time we’re through there, it’s getting to be time to head back to our apartment for the night at 5pm. Before we leave my brother’s, I use their wifi to check my Paypal account. I joke, “I’m worried that I’ll open my account and it’ll say $2000.” Combined with the little bit of money I already had in my Paypal, the donations have pushed my account close to $2200. I burst out laughing. “YOU WANNA GO GET A HOTEL?!” I shout. We agree we’ll spend the night in the unit tonight and decide what we’ll take with us to the hotel in the morning.

February 23rd, Evening: It’s close to 6pm and the movers are still there. They were supposed to clock out almost an hour ago. I browse Tripadvisor and Expedia in the parking lot and decide to just book the same hotel they dangled in front of our faces, since reviews specifically point out it’s clean and has extremely good quarantine practices. Expedia lets me pay with Paypal directly, but there’s a problem where it won’t connect to my Paypal account. As I go to transfer the money out of my Paypal and finish booking the hotel, the wifi dies. The movers just unplugged our modem and packed it up. They probably weren’t supposed to do that, and they picked the worst time, too. We spend the next 45 minutes driving around town trying to find free wifi so I can book this hotel. We end up parking at my brother’s place and leeching his wifi from the driveway. Hotel booked, check-in is at 3pm on the 24th. For now, it’s back to the apartment to decide what to take with us.

February 23rd, Night: Upon getting back to the apartment around 7pm, we find it’s... a disaster area. They spent so long unloading all the other units, they did not have time to finish packing and unloading what was left in our unit. There’s garbage everywhere, it’s mixed in with the stuff we want to keep, some of it’s broken, it’s horrible. It looks like they just swept everything off the tables on to the floor. TV remotes and mail are spread out all over the place. They didn’t leave us any lamps, so the only lights in the apartment are the front door light, the kitchen light, and the bathroom light. They might have left us our mattresses, but they didn’t leave us any pillows or blankets. Still, we spent the better part of the night sorting through the “trash” and separating it out in to the stuff we wanted to keep. We pack up most of the apartment with whatever materials the movers left behind, but we eventually run out of boxes and tape. We still managed to pack 99.9% of what was left. From 7pm to 2:30am.

February 24th, Morning: At 7:30am I'm woken up by the movers pulling up. I can hear them joking in the parking lot about who gets the honor of being called "papi" and cracking rude jokes about "assuming gender." They probably think nobody's around to hear them. We ask them for more time so we can wake up and get dressed. As we're loading up the car with stuff to take to the hotel, we overhear the movers complaining about how they are being made to wait because we were supposed to be out of here by 8, and it's close to 9. My Mom gives them an earful about how little time we had to pack compared to how long we should've had. "That's been happening to a lot of people here." one of them tells her. My whole body hurts after days of little sleep and packing extremely heavy boxes. I’ve had a throbbing headache for almost 48 hours. With the dentist appointment at 3pm that afternoon, we go to a park and I doze in the car for another five hours.

February 24th, Afternoon: Dentist appointment goes smoothly; they offer to start surgery, but I explain to them what happened with the renovation and they are perfectly fine postponing until a later date. By now, my feet hurt where the soles of my shoes have been rubbing. My ankles and knees are hurting from being crunched up inside a car for two days. My back hurts from all the lifting. I’m beyond miserable and realize there’s no way I could bare to spend 10 days living in this car. Thankfully, with the dentist appointment out of the way, it’s check in time. The hotel room is nice, but given I’ve never stayed in a hotel before, I don’t have much of a comparison. But when I fall asleep that night, I sleep harder and longer than I have in years.

February 25th: The elderly couple that lived below us at the apartment are here at the same hotel we are, and we talk to them. Turns out, the lady has the same doctor as my Mom, and they were rejected from his note, too. The approval they got for the hotel came from her husband’s doctor, who wrote an extremely detailed note about his oxygen needs. They mention that people living in our complex with disabilities weren’t housed here and they don’t know where they are or what happened to them. They also claim that the food provision stuff from the apartment front office is apparently some kind of a $45/day meal credit we get at the end of the renovation. But again, it’s still not clear, and the apartment itself has never clarified. That night, we return to the apartment again to raid our fridge for stuff to bring to the hotel. Now, if you remember, we were supposed to be able to sleep at the apartment every night. The apartment we returned to was in such a state that it would have been impossible to sleep in. No sinks, no toilets, no stove, no running water of any kind, and all of the outlets stripped down. Literally the only thing we could have done was sleep there; nothing else was possible. And even then, remember: no bedding. No pillows, no blankets, and it’s still winter out there.

Update on things I forgot: Also on the 25th, elderly couple in the unit below us also told of how the movers had thrown their $950 couch outside and left it in the dirt for multiple days, asking if it was “trash” because one of the washable seat covers had a single pet stain on it. (When we visited the apartment that night to raid the fridge, we even saw it) Not only that, but last year, our bathroom tub had been leaking in to one of their closets. They had to shut our water off for several days and fix the pipes. Apparently this caused black mold in their apartment that wasn’t discovered until they started hauling boxes out. Upon bringing it up with the renovation team, they got told “there’s black mold everywhere! it’s in the grass! it’s fine!” The husband went in to take pictures of the black mold, but by the time he got over there with the camera, the renovation team had already painted over it. Apparently another tenant on the other side of the complex had mold problems so bad that she’s been paid to stay at this hotel for more than a month already while they deal with it.

Which brings us, roughly, to today.

Now, the question I mentioned way back at the top: what are my options here, legally? A lot of friends have told me up and down that this is either illegal, or should be illegal, but I have no idea where to start with any of this stuff and frankly I’m a little gun shy. I don’t know what Nevada housing law is like, what renters rights are, and I don’t want to risk being evicted. But I also know that the threat of being evicted is also what keeps people complacent.

All I really know is that basically everything they originally told us was a lie, and they never informed us of most of these changes. As for the rest, well... just read for yourself.

Whatever you know, I’d like to know.

#renovation #timeline

5 notes · View notes

ohemgeeitscoley · 5 years ago

Text

Ben Solo is the recently assigned editor for Rey Johnson’s book about star-crossed lovers in space when the world is turned upside down and stay home orders are issued. Ben and Rey begin working together over Zoom and their relationship grows.

Or, an and they were zoomates fic.

Based on this Tumblr post.

The one I have been waiting for (Part One of Two)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Note: This was going to be a really, really short one shot. It turned into a 12k two-shot. Whoops. This is pure fluff.

As always, the biggest thank you to @andyouweremine for being the world’s best beta and friend. Seriously, thank you for all of your cheerleading and input and for convincing me that one more scene never hurt anyone. You’re the absolute best.

Read below or on AO3.

From: Leia Organa-Solo <[email protected]> To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> Subject: Quarantine assignments

Ben,

Unfortunately with everything going on right now, I've decided that we are going to close the office and have everyone work from home. I know you were looking forward to the big welcome lunch I had planned. Hopefully we will be able to reschedule in a few weeks once the risk of spreading COVID-19 lessens.

In the meantime, I am going to assign you to Rey Johnson. She is working on a new novel with a goal of having the first draft submitted by May 30. I'm attaching her contact information and what she has sent over so far. Please coordinate with Rey to schedule an introduction meeting.

Warm regards,

Mom

Leia Organa-Solo CEO Rebel Publishing, LLC

From: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> To: Leia Organa-Solo <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Quarantine assignments

Leia:

I am deeply saddened that the welcome lunch you coordinated over my many, many vocal objections to has been cancelled. I suppose we will have to plan another inner-office get together wherein I can find a way to embarrass and let you down. I'm greatly looking forward to the opportunity.

On that note, was it really necessary to use my full name in my email address? Was Ben already taken? I am fairly certain as my mother you are aware that you are the only person who ever calls me Benjamin. Would it be possible to have IT change this before tomorrow?

I think closing the office is the right decision. Social distancing is quite important now more than ever. I'm assuming this means that Saturday dinners will also be postponed?

I'll look over what you sent and reach out to Ms. Johnson. I'm looking forward to working with her.

Sincerely,

Ben Solo Editor Rebel Publishing, LLC

From: Leia Organa-Solo <[email protected]> To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Quarantine assignments

Benjamin:

I distinctly remember writing Benjamin down on your birth certificate. I'm unaware of any name change order being in your personnel file. The email stays.

The lunch has not been cancelled, it has been postponed. Despite your assertions, you will not embarrass or let me down in any get together. However, I make no such promises. Seeing as how I'll be trapped at home with your father for the foreseeable future, maybe I'll finally have time to find some of those old pictures of you. I've been meaning to redecorate my office.

It does appear that Saturday dinners will need to be postponed. However, I am working with Chewie and Luke to see if we can perhaps get them set up to attend virtual dinners. I'll keep you updated.

Warm regards,

Mom

Leia Organa-Solo CEO Rebel Publishing, LLC

-----

Ben sighed, pushing his hands under his glasses as he rubbed at the corners of his eyes. It wasn’t that he necessarily thought that agreeing to go work at his mom’s publishing company was going to be the easiest of transitions, but he also hadn’t been prepared for his name to be on the list of things they would argue about.

It only made sense, then, that it was one of the first things.

He considered sending another email, pushing the issue. But he knew better than to think it was an argument he was going to win. And, honestly, he was hopeful that if he didn’t respond maybe she’d never again think about coordinating, or asking him to coordinate, a virtual Saturday dinner.

Instead, Ben opened the contact card his mom had sent for Rey, and got to work.

From: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> To: Rey Johnson <[email protected]> Subject: Introduction Meeting

Good evening Ms. Johnson:

I’m the assigned editor for your next book. Leia has already provided your initial pitch, character sketches, and outline. However, I usually prefer to talk with an author prior to reading these materials. I have found in the past that going into these conversations without any preconceived ideas based on the initial workups leads to a more organic understanding of the material. As such, I’d love to have the chance to talk with you about your book prior to looking over the material.

Given the increased concerns of spreading the virus, Leia has closed the office and has asked that we conduct all of our work from home. Please let me know what your availability is tomorrow or the next day so that I can coordinate the conference. I am just transitioning to Rebel Publishing, so my calendar is currently fairly open.

Of course, if you’d rather me read through the materials and start the process that way, just let me know.

I look forward to working with you.

Sincerely,

Ben Solo Editor Rebel Publishing, LLC

From: Rey Johnson <[email protected]> To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Introduction Meeting

Mr. Solo,

Leia let me know today that we would be working together. I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. I’d love the opportunity to talk with you prior to you reviewing the materials that have been previously sent. This is a different approach than my previous editors have taken, but I am intrigued by your theory.

With that said, given the recent orders to stay home, my schedule is very flexible. I usually try to block out specific times to focus on writing so that I can turn off notifications and limit distractions. With the times I had previously blocked out for tomorrow, I could make an 11:00 am work? If that doesn’t work, just let me know what does and I’m sure I’ll be able to make that work.

I look forward to meeting with you.

Sincerely,

Rey Johnson

-----

Rey was the first one in the Zoom meeting the next morning. She fidgeted with her web camera, adjusting the angle until the image on the screen blocked out most of her messy apartment. She spent a few minutes pushing things out of the way before sitting back down and waiting for Ben to appear.

She glanced down at the clock on her computer screen, sighing at the time. The meeting wasn’t supposed to start for another five minutes. Being early had never been one of her defining characteristics, but she also hadn’t had any real human interaction in days.

The day the stay home order had been issued by the Governor, Rey had planned on meeting up with Poe and Finn for drinks. They had been on her for days to avoid slipping into a writer isolation. Poe had a lot of experience in knowing just how easily Rey could spiral when she was writing, hiding away from the world for days at a time. It had always just been easier for Rey to stay in when she was writing. Easier to stay focused on what kept her paid and fed and a roof over her head.

She didn’t have to worry about getting too distracted and forgetting where she left off or what she had planned for another scene if she just stayed home. Poe liked to remind her that she was ridiculous and that going out also was what provided her with actual inspiration to write.

There was a balance, she was sure. She just hadn’t achieved it yet. Then the stay home issue was ordered and Rey found herself wishing that she had listened to Poe sooner.

Not that was going to tell him that.

The computer dinged when Ben joined the meeting room. The image was fuzzy at first, Rey could really only make out that he had dark hair and rather broad shoulders. In fact, he looked rather… large, his body taking up most of the space that she could see. The image cleared and Rey took in the rest of his features, the sharp nose and pouty lips.

He was definitely attractive. Which was not what she needed to be thinking about at the moment.

“Good morning, Mr. Solo,” Rey said, smiling politely as she held her hand up in a tiny, awkward wave.

“I would say Mr. Solo is my father,” he responded, shaking his head slightly. “But he also hates being called that.”

“Right, so, Benjamin then?”

“No, no, no, no,” Ben grimaced, as if the word personally offended him. “Ben. Just Ben.”

“Okay, just Ben,” Rey laughed softly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. John-”

“Rey,” she interrupted him with a grin.

“Well, Rey, tell me about your book.”

Rey took a deep breath before, running her teeth over her bottom lip before she began. She started by attempting to introduce the main characters, Kira and Kylo, and their backstories, but she was easily distracted with certain points of plot that felt so imperative to interrupt and explain.

By the time she finished, she wasn't really sure what information she had shared or left out. But she was fairly positive that she had failed to hit all of the main plot points.

Rey waited for Ben to say something. She knew that he had told her that he found it beneficial to hear about the story in an organic way, but the longer the silence stretched, the more she wished she had spent more time preparing last night to explain to him the story and the characters in at least a logical way.

“So they are connected?” He finally asked. “What was the word you used?”

“A dyad,” Rey answered. “Soulmates, really.”

“Star-crossed lovers fighting on opposite sides of a galactic war," Ben paused, jotting something down on a piece of paper next to his computer. "Doomed from the start?"

"Hardly," Rey snorted. "It won't be easy, but I fully plan on a happily ever after ending for them."

"Really?" Ben seemed surprised. "That's unusual for star-crossed couples."

"Your words," Rey reminded him, "I said they were soulmates."

"That you did," Ben conceded. "I just assumed since they are fighting for different things that one would fall."

"But they aren't."

"What?"

"Fighting for different things," Rey clarified. "It seems that way, at first. But really, they are both fighting for a place in the world. For a family. For a balance that they are being told can't exist."

"It sounds like quite a world," Ben noted. "I'm excited to see you build it."

"Yeah," Rey looked away from the screen, staring at the knick knacks that filled up the shelf across from her. "It's a little scary actually, creating a world this complex."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Right," Rey smiled at him. "Well, I'm glad I have you."

Rey thought that maybe Ben was blushing, even though logically she knew that it was more likely just a shadow or reflection from his computer. Either way, she liked the way it made him look.

"So, same time next week?" Ben asked. "I'll go over everything Leia sent me. Now that I know what I'm getting into, I think my notes will be a lot better."

"Yeah, same time next week," Rey glanced down at the notes on her desk. "Should I send you things throughout the week as I'm working? Or save it for next week?"

"For now I say save it for next week. I have a lot of material to get started with."

"Sounds good."

"It was nice meeting you, Rey." Ben held one hand up in an awkward wave.

"Yeah, you too, Ben."

-----

From: Rey Johnson <[email protected]> To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> Subject: Earlier meeting?

Hi Ben:

I know that we have a meeting scheduled in four days, but I was just wondering if you might be available earlier than that? I’m having a bit of difficulty with the corner I think I’ve written myself into, and I am hoping that a fresh pair of eyes might help me find my way out. I understand if you want to keep the meeting as scheduled, I know you haven’t had a lot of time to go through the materials that had already been submitted, but I’d really appreciate any insight.

I hope you are staying inside and staying healthy!

-Rey.

------

Rey groaned, rereading the email she had sent Ben. It wasn’t necessarily a bad email, it was actually lightyears better than the first draft she had written at 2 am. Which went something like ‘Hi Ben, as it turns out despite my years of believing otherwise, I need human interaction and your face is the only face I’ve seen in a week and I’m slowly losing my mind. I sang to my plants. I’ve never written this much in my life, I’ve started reading the dialogue out loud because I’m no longer sure what human conversations sound like. So, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could we move up our meeting? I’m a little worried I’m becoming an insane person. I swear I’m not normally this weird. Quarantine life.’

She, thankfully, pressed the delete button instead of the send button. The other three drafts were slightly more professional, but all with the same undertone of her being slightly desperate for any conversation that didn’t involve her voicing both sides. She had tried facetiming Poe, but he and Finn had been keeping each other plenty busy. Which really, she should have expected.

Logically she knew that she could reach out to either one of them anyways, or Rose, or any of her other friends and just tell them that she was potentially on the verge of a self-isolation mental breakdown and they would be there for her.

But that was a showing of vulnerability that despite years of therapy Rey wasn’t comfortable with demonstrating. And so she emailed Ben instead.

It wasn’t like it was a complete lie. She had written more than usual and she was at a point in the story that she would appreciate some feedback at this point.

Kira and Kylo were at a turning point in the story. Their connection had been steadily growing stronger and more frequent, forcing them to face each other. Now was the time for them to come together and join each other or for them to pull away and keep fighting against each other.

It wasn't a terrible idea for her to get some feedback and opinions before moving forward full speed. Her reaching out to Ben for an earlier meeting had nothing to do with her ever increasing thoughts about how he was rather attractive and his smile was rather enticing and that she wanted to see it again.

At least, she was fairly confident that wasn’t the main reason.

She glanced at the sent email one last time before closing out of her email tab. Only fifteen minutes had passed since she sent the email and she already felt regret settling over her nerves.

It was going to be a long day waiting for him to reply.

-----

In hindsight, Ben probably should have found it strange that he had not received a single company email in over 24 hours. Especially since Leia had a habit of sending him personal messages to his work email. Despite him reminding her numerous times that she had his personal email, and his cell phone, and, really, at least four other ways of contacting him.

A part of him knew that Leia did it because she genuinely enjoyed reminding herself that he came back to her company, that he came home. He also knew her well enough to know that the larger reason was because she also genuinely enjoyed annoying him. And Leia had to know that he would find knowing that her personal assistant had access to all of her emails about whether or not he was interested in attending a virtual dinner, if he had enough food in his apartment or if he would like her to make an instacart order for him, and that Han had been cleaning out the garage to make more room for his ‘quarantine projects’ and found boxes of his old toys and baby blankets and she was just wondering if he perhaps wanted her to bring the belongings home so that he could come get them, you know, for the future.

So, he should have known that something wasn’t working, but he had been distracted going through Rey’s materials, making notes of his questions and of his proposed edits. She was a fantastic writer. The world she had built was fresh and lively, jumping off of the pages in clear images and descriptions. She had provided extremely detailed character sketches for most of the characters, but he hadn’t found that he had to read through them or refer to them to understand any of the characters or to analyze any of the choices the characters had made simply because she wrote them so well.

It was very impressive.

He had finished going through the materials that Leia had sent him in two days. He was working his way through them again, going slower and providing more detailed notes and able to ask more pointed questions given the knowledge of where the story was heading. Still, he found himself wishing that he had told Rey to send over more work.

He noticed his phone light up on the corner of his couch. He picked it up, glancing at the message icon showing that he had four messages from his mother and… 48 unread emails.

Mom: Servers are back up at the office.

Mom: Sorry for the onslaught of emails you are probably going to start getting in five minutes.

Mom: I didn’t realize at first that they weren’t going through.

Mom: It’s possible 75% of them could have been text messages.

Ben: The server was down at the office?

Mom: You didn’t notice that you have received no emails in the last day?

Ben: I guess not.

Mom: That’s an unusual thing for you to not notice.

Mom: What have you been doing?

Ben: Going through the materials you sent over for Rey’s book.

Mom: Ah.

Mom: That makes sense then.

Ben sighed, closing the messaging app to start going through the emails from his mother.

They were exactly what he had expected them to be. A few emails from HR and IT that were sent company wide about how to submit hours when working from home, a reminder to sign up for direct deposit if you hadn’t already, and a few guided walkthroughs on common computer and technology issues. His mother’s emails focused more on whether or not he had all of the ingredients for the Risotto she wanted to make for dinner on Saturday. Followed by an email with the receipt. And another email that went to him, Luke, and Chewie, wondering why it was too much to ask them all to make the same meal as her so that the virtual dinner felt like an actual dinner and not a happenstance of people meeting at the same time.

He almost missed the email from Rey.

-----

From: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> To: Rey Johnson <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Earlier meeting?

Dear Rey,

I’m truly sorry for my delay in responding to your email. I was just informed that the server at the office went down, which affected our email host and I am just now getting this message.

I would love to go over this with you sooner than we had planned. I have already reviewed the materials you had previously sent, so I believe I will be of much more use in hopefully helping you figure out where you want to go next. I do find it hard to believe that you’ve written yourself into a corner, you seem to have a great grasp on the characters and the story you want to tell.

I’d hate for any future requests to be severely delayed due to technological issues beyond our control. My cell phone number is 917-555-3298.

I am available whenever. I suppose that’s the upside to a quarantine.

I look forward to receiving the materials and discussing them with you.

Ben

Benjamin Solo Editor Rebel Publishing, LLC

-----

Ben: I think it’s abusing your power as owner of a company to go through and change your employee’s email signatures without consent.

Mom: I have no idea what you are talking about.

Mom: Benjamin

------

929-555-4593: Hi Ben. This is Rey. I just got your email and figured I’d send you a message so you have my number. I sent over what I’ve been working on. I’m also free whenever. So, just tell me when and I’ll be there.

Rey Johnson: Thanks again for agreeing to meet up with me earlier than planned. I appreciate it.

-------

Rey threw on a blazer over the red tank top she had been wearing for the last two days when she got the Zoom invite from Ben. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror to the side of her desk, double checking to make sure she didn’t have dried mascara on her cheeks and that her hair looked moderately presentable.

She clicked on the link in the email and---

Ben wore glasses. Ben wore glasses and Rey was not at all prepared for how he looked wearing them. Really, it didn’t seem quite fair that something as innocuous as glasses managed to make him go skyrocketing up from ‘fairly attractive’ to ‘how inappropriate would it be to initiate sexting with her new editor that she had maybe spent a grand total of twenty minutes communicating with’ in her mind.

Rey really, really needed the stay home order lifted. Clearly, she was worse off than she thought.

“Hey,” Ben greeted her. “How are you surviving the stay home order?”

“Oh great. Some might even say I’ve been thriving,” Rey rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she laughed. “At least I’ve been able to get a lot of writing done.”

“I would say,” Ben ran his hand through his hair, and Rey could hear him clicking open something on his computer. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve only skimmed through everything you sent over today. So, depending on what has you stuck, I’m not positive this will be a very productive meeting.”

“The part I think I’m stuck at?” Rey opened the word document on her computer, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “You mean it isn’t obvious?”

“I guess, no?” Ben responded, and Rey can tell from the way he’s focusing on his computer screen that he must be going through the document again. “I just assumed you were stuck on what to do after Kira took Kylo’s hand? But that didn’t make much sense either because you have such a clear plan for the story.”

“Kira doesn’t take Kylo’s hand.”

Ben glanced up to the camera, his mouth slightly open. “What?”

“Kira doesn’t take Kylo’s hand,” Rey repeated, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug. “At least not yet.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t take his hand yet?” Ben asked, and Rey has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from laughing at how insulted he sounded. “You’ve spent the last eight chapters building their relationship for her to take his hand.”

“That doesn’t mean that this is the right moment,” Rey pointed out. “I’m not sure it’s the right moment.”

“Okay,” Ben leaned back in his chair, lifting his hands to rest behind his head. “I guess I’m going to need you to explain to me what you think the right moment will be then.”

“That might take awhile,” Rey admitted. “I don’t know that I even know the answer to that.”

“That’s okay,” Ben said with an encouraging smile. “I have plenty of time.”

-----

They ended up talking for over two hours. By the end of the call, Rey at least had a better idea of the different paths she could take Kira and Kylo down. Even if she still didn't know which one she would choose.

But they also talked about other things besides the book and Rey's struggles with where the characters should go. Rey discovered that Ben was also sheltering in place by himself. She was pretty amused when Ben didn’t immediately end the video call when she started discussing the finer points of being ordered to stay in, like what Netflix show he was binge watching and whether or not he had enough toilet paper to last.

She was oddly unsurprised when he refused to discuss his toilet paper situation with her and when he said that he didn’t watch a lot of TV and wasn’t planning on binge watching anything. Rey gave him a week before he caved on that.

It was nice.

Rey’s mood had significantly improved half way through the conversation. She had forgotten just how wonderful it was to talk to someone else. It also didn’t hurt that Ben Solo wasn’t exactly hard to look at for two hours. It wasn't even the obvious physical features that Rey found herself thinking about hours later, although she was certainly going to be thinking about them for a while. But Ben had a certain way of moving and mannerisms that only added to them.

Getting to know someone over a video call was interesting. Rey kept waiting for the normal wave of must look away to hit her like it would if they had been face to face. Staring at someone the entire time you were together wasn't normal.

If they had been in person, Rey would have felt uncomfortable with the amount of time she had spent just staring at him. Noticing the way his hands dwarfed the size of his coffee cup and the way he talked with his hands when he was particularly passionate about whatever he was saying.

She particularly liked how his face was open when she said something he disagreed with, the way he would narrow his eyes and shake his head, but waited until she was done to raise his counterpoints. There was something about the way that he was just himself that was refreshing.

He listened intently, scribbling down notes when she talked about the story. Even when she started mentioning shows that he should watch, if he were to get really desperate, and he pretended to be uninterested, Rey was fairly positive she saw him write them down as well.

They set up another meeting in two days, and Rey was determined to have at least made a decision on whether or not Kira was going to take Kylo’s hand by then. She had to admit that Ben had made a convincing argument as to why it was the right moment for the characters to move forward together.

Rey sat down at her writing desk, opening up the current version of her project, and began writing.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #reylo au #and they were zoommates #my fic

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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

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I Am You- Chapter 4

Pairing: OC x Bang Chan x Han Jisung x Seo Changbin

Genre: Romantic Fantasy

Warnings: None, I think

Previous Chapters: (Chapter 1), (Chapter 2), (Chapter 3)

Note: Since it’s Han’s birthday, I decided to post the next chapter as an impromptu (and unorthodox) celebration! #HappyHanDay #HappyBirthdayHan

I was losing my mind, and it was because of my three alpha mates.

I had yet to have a moment to myself in nearly a week, always shadowed by Jisung or Chan or Changbin. They hovered around me, tending to me like I was a child instead of the woman they regularly had sex with. I was beyond annoyed with their behavior, growing restless because every time I attempted to stand up, one of them was always there, lifting me into their strong arms. “Where to Myah?” or “Where are we going Princess?” or “Where do you want me to take you, Angel?”

My leg was practically healed. Woojin had even said so, coming to my room and updating my prognosis, now merely a long scar, nodding to himself slowly. “It’s almost healed,” he declared. “You should be fine, Myah.”

All three of my mates let out collective sighs like it was the most anticipated news of the century. “Woojin, I can start walking again, right?”

“Maybe soon, Myah.”

I tried not to sigh because Woojin wouldn’t have known that I required a straight answer. His response was vague enough to likely convince Jisung that I would be out of commission for another week. “What about more antibiotics?” Jisung fretted now, digging through Woojin’s bag. “Did you bring any?”

Woojin snatched his bag away from Jisung, glowering in his direction. “She doesn’t have an infection.”

“I can still smell it,” Changbin insisted, scenting the air with a studious expression that I would normally find hilarious under any other circumstances.

“Maybe another dosage wouldn’t hurt,” Chan added, perched on the edge of my bed, fingers running through my hair while he ignored my frown.

“It’s unnecessary,” Woojin insisted.

“What about more pain killers?”

“Should it still be elevated?”

“Will it be okay in the water now?”

Woojin’s eyes widened, glancing between my three mates with evident exhaustion. “Honestly, some time away from the three of you would be best for Myah.”

Jisung protested immediately, launching into a long tirade about how Woojin wouldn’t understand how they felt since he didn’t have a mate of his own. And Jisung’s more spirited lectures tended to last far longer than necessary, so I somewhat eagerly awaited for Woojin’s inevitable breaking point. However, perhaps graciously, the sudden appearance of Felix interrupted Jisung’s passionate speech. “Chan,” the younger asked, glancing at me with uncertainty as if he wasn’t sure he could deliver his news with me present. “Another messenger from the NCT pack visited. They’d like to reschedule your meeting soon.”

“Impatient,” Chan grumbled. “Maybe in another week.”

I was ready to protest, knowing another week would be unnecessary. However, Felix beat me to it, supplying another idea that I wasn’t exactly too fond of either. “What if we asked NCT to come here instead?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jisung agreed, reaching over to ruffle Felix’s hair. “Nice job, kid.”

Felix frowned, giving me an apologetic look before closing the door. Meanwhile, Woojin was whispering quietly to Changbin, and their eyes kept roaming in my direction. What else was I supposed to think they were talking about?

I glared down at Chan and Jisung as they started crawling into bed on either side of me, snuggling against my sides. “Are you tired, Princess?” Jisung asked, leaning in to scent me.

Thanks to you guys, I wanted to say, but withheld the urge, managing a small nod to satisfy them. “I’ll come to check on you tomorrow, Myah,” Woojin said, and my eyes sorrowfully followed him all the way out the door, groaning when I heard Changbin announce it was time for another bath.

I wanted to be with my mates when we formally greeted the NCT representatives, but they forced me to stay in bed. I was a little heartbroken because I had been looking forward to meeting new faces. It was always exciting when new scents were around. Thankfully, kind-hearted Amelia, Hyunjin’s beautiful Omega mate, was keeping me company. The usually soft-spoken female was chattering openly about the unexpected size of the NCT diplomats. Apparently, Chan was very unhappy having so many foreigners around. “Do they have accents?” I asked.

Amelia giggled. “Some of them do. Not all of them are from the north, apparently.”

“I want to see them,” I sighed, glaring at my leg. “I hate being bedridden.”

“Maybe I can help you sneak out?” Amelia suggested mischievously.

I briefly entertained the idea. “There’s no way I can get past three alphas. Especially Changbin, he’s too good at catching my scent.”

Amelia pouted, sharing my disappointment. “There’s a big dinner tonight to welcome them. Maybe you can convince them to let you go.”

But even such a simple request was like pulling teeth.

“Please Channie,” I pleaded with my mate, nuzzling against him in the way I knew he liked, batting my eyelashes as I put on my best pout.

Chan, however, was undeterred. “Not like this, Myah,” he said sternly. “There’s too many of them.”

Fine, I had two other mates who were less stoic.

“I don’t think so, angel,” Changbin chuckled, further crushing my hopes.

“Chan already told you no, Princess,” Jisung said, but his resolve was not nearly as strong.

“Please, Sungie,” I tried again. “It would really mean a lot to me.”

“Well, maybe for a little while-”

And that’s how I found myself talking animatedly with Amelia and her younger sister, Lila, while the three of us eagerly made easy work of the feast the pack had prepared for our visitors. “I can’t believe they let you come!” Lila said at one point, shock evident on her face. “Chan made it sound like you would be out for weeks!”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s just being dramatic.”

“Mates are always dramatic,” Amelia agreed, glancing over at Hyunjin who was laughing with Felix and a few NCT members.

“They keep looking over here,” Lila said nervously and I immediately turned to glare at Changbin, the dark-haired boy sheepishly returning to his conversation with Seungmin.

“Ignore them,” I insisted. “Tell me about the newcomers.”

“Taeyong couldn’t make it,” Amelia said, “but he sent his Beta.” She nodded towards the smaller boy talking with Chan and Jisung. “Mark.”

I appraised him carefully, deciding his appearance must be deceitful, as he certainly didn’t look capable of harming a fly. “He brought seven wolves with him,” Amelia informed me. “That’s a lot more than we were expecting.”

“It’s disconcerting,” Lila admitted. “I think that’s why Chan is so suspicious.”

“They haven’t said anything to me,” I shrugged.

“They’re too worried about keeping you inside all day,” Amelia groaned dramatically. “The kitchens are boring without you!”

“I miss working,” I admitted. “I just wish Woojin would take the cast off.”

“He probably doesn’t want to take any chances,” Lila inserted. “After all, you are the pack alpha’s mate.”

“If it was up to Chan, I would stay at home every day,” I said, frowning.

“He’s overprotective,” Amelia said. “All alphas are.”

“I like being outside and he knows that,” I said, suddenly feeling a burning irritation towards my mates, especially after having my first taste of freedom in over a week.

“Looks like Haechan is coming back,” Amelia teased her little sister and I glanced up at the approaching male.

“Hello,” Haechan bowed respectfully. I grinned at Lila’s blush. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Myah.”

“Likewise,” I returned. “I’ve been dealing with an injury lately.”

“Your mates told us,” Haechan said, nodding to the empty seat next to Lila. “Can I join?”

Lila let out a weak noise, perhaps agreement, and Haechan slid into the seat next to her. “Tell us about the north?” I asked eagerly, drowning out all other discussions as I allowed Haechan’s descriptions to fill my head. The north sounded beautiful, a land of snow and ice, unbearably cold in the winters, but rather pleasant during the hotter seasons. It wasn’t a long distance from the valley. An easily manageable walk when (and if) my mates ever decided I could make use of my own two feet again.

“I want to go! I think it sounds like a dream.”

“It’s fine,” Haechan said dismissively, but the look in his eyes told another story.

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

One Year Ago

“You should ask Changbin.”

I glanced up in surprise. “You don’t want to help with my heat?”

Jisung always took pride in being my first choice, especially since it provided a way for us to spend some time alone together, even if I was an incoherent mess for most of the duration. It’s not that I didn’t want to be with Chan or Changbin, but Chan was rather aggressive when I was in heat and I had never asked Changbin before. He was adamant about refusing sex during his ruts, so I figured he would have a similar attitude when it came time for my heats.

Jisung shrugged. “I think Changbin is upset that you never ask him.”

“He’s never said anything before...” In fact, the idea of Changbin being upset over something like this was hard to grasp.

“Well, I think it’s because he thinks you don’t want him,” Jisung said.

I scoffed at the ridiculous statement. “He never lets me near him when he’s rutting. I figured he wouldn’t want anything to do with my heats.”

“I think you’re wrong this time, princess,” Jisung said. “Changbin’s told me before that he’s always available to help if I’m not feeling up to it.”

“Huh,” I drawled, deciding I felt very inconsiderate at that moment. I suppose I just got used to asking Jisung whenever my symptoms started to flare up. It became habitual, and I didn’t stop to think about how my other mates might feel. “Well, I guess I can ask him instead.”

Jisung offered an encouraging smile. “I think it will make him very happy.”

I found Changbin later that day, sparring outside with Chan. The two were imposing as wolves, teeth bared and jaws snapping at one another. I glanced around with amusement at the younger alphas, watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. I had forgotten that Chan and Changbin were teaching the sparring classes now that Hyunjin was away with his mate, spending time with Amelia’s family before the two returned.

I waited patiently for my two mates to finish, taking the time to admire how powerful they were together. Chan and Changbin were both larger for their size, extending from years of impressive breeding and mating with strong bloodlines. Of course, no other wolf in the pack could really compare to Changbin. He was by far the largest wolf I had ever seen, easily eclipsing Jisung in size and somehow managing to even make Chan look like a pup.

The two were talking in low voices together, wearing nothing but sweatpants when I approached them after their lesson. Changbin picked up on my scent first, eyes easily locating me from amongst the other members of our pack. Chan followed his gaze and a wide smile filled out the corners of his lips. “I’m surprised to see you here,” Chan gushed while proceeding to crush me against his much stronger body.

“Too much,” I tried to tell him, but eventually surrendered, taking in his familiar scent with a deep inhale.

“Do you need something, angel?” Changbin asked, proving to be my saving grace when Chan’s arms finally released me.

I took in a deep breath. “Actually, I’d like to talk to you.”

“This sounds serious,” Chan remarked, leaning in close as if the answer were waiting in my scent.

“Alone,” I emphasized, giving Chan a pointed look.

He let out a dramatic sigh but conceded the space I needed. However, I still waited until he was far enough away before reaching out for Changbin. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.” I wrapped my hand around his bicep, directing him through the lingering crowd of our packmates. Changbin grabbed a black t-shirt on the way, stretching it out over his head.

I was suddenly nervous when we were finally alone, anxiously fidgeting in front of the bigger alpha. “So, how is everything?” I asked cautiously, trying to reformulate my proposal, hoping to make it sound as casual as possible.

Changbin arched one brow. “Are you alright, Myah?”

I let out a nervous giggle. “I have something to ask you.”

Changbin nodded, encouraging me to continue. “I’m listening.”

“That thing is coming up,” I started, wincing when I realized I was already messing everything up.

Changbin smirked. “That thing?”

“Yeah,” I agreed as if he could possibly understand what I was talking about. “I was wondering if you wanted to help.”

Changbin crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his black t-shirt straining. “Angel, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“My heat, Changbin! I want you to help me with my heat.”

My face was red, and I could feel my cheeks heating up because I knew how rushed I just sounded. The words had spilled out carelessly in one of the worst proposals in Werewolf history. Changbin even looked surprised, looking down at me wordlessly. “Uh, I mean, if you don’t want to-”

“I’d love to help,” Changbin finally said, a genuine, and rare, smile brightening his dark features.

“Well, I know you’ve been busy lately-”

“Angel,” he interrupted again, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me closer. He pressed a brief kiss to my forehead. “I’ve been waiting to hear you ask for a while now.” I leaned up to nose at his scent gland, amazed that he could ease my tension with just a few, select touches.

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hope-for-olicity · 5 years ago

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I Will Take Care of You, Always

Happy Happy Birthday @mel-loves-all!!! This one is for you! Olicity fluff from S2 pre-Russia. I so hope you enjoy. Thanks to @green-arrows-of-karamel for editing. Also available on AO3.

“Diggle I’m really worried. She called in sick, didn’t even send me a note. I have no idea if she’s coming tonight,” Oliver paced in front of Felicity’s computers in the lair.

“Oliver, maybe she really is sick, man. Cut her some slack. She works all the time. She’s probably asleep,” John smiled at Oliver while trying to provide comfort.

“I see you smiling. This doesn’t mean anything. I’m worried about my employee..maybe, she needs my help. I really should go and check on her.”

“Or you could call… a little less alarming. See if she needs anything.”

“That’s it. I’m calling, again,” Oliver picked up his phone, hit the last number called as it was Felicity’s, he listened to the phone ring four times before going to voicemail. “Felicity, it’s Oliver. Just checking to see if you are okay. Please call me back.”

“She’s probably asleep,” Digg tried again.

“Or unconscious or on the floor with a broken leg unable to get to the phone or kidnapped! It’s totally possible given what we do!” Oliver sat down in Felicity’s chair. It lowered with his weight, Felicity wouldn’t like that, she doesn’t like them touching or moving her things.

“Okay, now you are getting me worried. Do you want me to go check on her?”

“No,” Oliver jumped up from the chair. “I’m going and you aren’t going to stop me. I’ll let you know if I need help.”

~~~~~

“I’m in the depths of despair,” Anne Shirley declared on Felicity’s television.

“You are so right, girl.”

Great, now Felicity was talking to her TV. She had been alone all day, maybe she had cabin fever. Plus, she lost her phone. Well, not lost, lost. She just didn’t have the energy to look for it since her entire body was in pain and when she attempted to move she felt nauseous.

Felicity was on her period. Yes, this happened every month but she was usually on the pill to help control the pain. But her doctor wanted her to go off the pill to see if she’d be okay. SHE WAS NOT OKAY. She felt like her body was being ripped in two. A tear slid down her cheek. And now she was crying again. Everything was awful. Totally, the depths of despair.

She was contemplating getting up to refill her hot water bottle with actual hot water when she heard the knock. It was probably some salesman, she just could not deal right now. She muted her TV and hoped they’d go away.

“Felicity, it’s Oliver. Are you in there? Are you okay? I’m worried.”

Oh no! It couldn’t be Oliver!. Felicity touched her hair. She looked a mess. She hadn’t even showered. How could she face him?

“Felicity? Please open the door or I’m going to find another way in.”

Crap, he couldn’t break down her door! She couldn’t afford the repairs and her landlord…

”Coming!” Felicity stood up from the couch, waited a moment for nausea to pass. Then slowly made her way to the door.

~~~~~

There are no words to describe the relief he felt when he heard Felicity’s voice. She was okay, she was inside. Deep breath. He heard her opening the locks, the door slowly opened to reveal a very not okay Felicity.

“Felicity! Here let me help you.” She was so pale he worried she might collapse. “Where do you want to go back to bed? The couch?” Oliver noticed she had pillows and a blanket there.

“Couch.”

Oliver swooped her up bridal style and carrying her to the couch. He placed her gently down and covered her with blankets. “Okay, what can I do? What do you need?”

Felicity closed her eyes. He worried she was just going to tell him to leave.

“Can you refill this hot water bottle?” Felicity held up the bottle that had been propped against the couch.

“On it,” Oliver took the hot water bottle into the kitchen. As the kitchen and living room were joined he began talking to Felicity. “I’m sorry for just showing up like this unannounced but I was really worried and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Please don’t apologize, Felicity. You are clearly very sick and I’d like to help any way I can,” Oliver handed her back the hot water bottle.

“Well, there is not much you can do to help this. I’m just having a really bad period,” Felicity turned bright red.

“I’m so sorry, Felicity,” Oliver sat at the end of the couch. “Thea used to suffer as well. I used to try to cheer her up, we’d watch movies. I’m not sure if it helped. But would you like me to do that with you?”

Felicity’s eyes welled up.

Oh no, I totally said the wrong thing. Oliver felt panicked. He could take down any bad guy you threw at him but helping am a woman in pain from her period might be his downfall. “Oh Felicity, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I can leave if you want. I don’t want to be a bother,” Oliver began to get up.

“No,” Felicity wiped the tears from her eyes. “Sorry, super emotional. I just thought it was sweet that you helped Thea and now you wanted to help me. I’ve never had anyone care about this kind of thing. Mom just said this is something we Smoak women deal with, it was clear I wasn’t to complain. But now, you are here and you are being so nice and you got me more hot water.” Felicity couldn’t help it… she started to cry. “Sorry, I can’t seem to stop crying.”

“Felicity, would you like a hug?”

Felicity nodded.

Oliver bent over and hugged her. Not the best position but he didn’t want to hurt her. He let Felicity cry all over his shirt. He rubbed her back as she cried.

Finally, Felicity pulled back and looked up at him. “Thank you. Thank you for being so kind.”

~~~~~

Oliver was here, being amazing, which was not helping her crush on him. Why did he have to be so him? Her ex’s had always ignored her period pain, as if it was an inconvenience, but Oliver - he was taking care of her.

“Is there anything else I can do to help? Food? Thea always wanted pizza but I read that nutritious food is better.”

“Pizza! Oliver, you read?” Felicity tried hard to keep the aww out of her voice.

Oliver gave her one of his special smiles she feels only she sees. “Okay, I’ll order pizza. And yes, I read. I was trying to find ways to help. It was hard seeing Thea in pain and now you…”

“Hey,” Felicity leaned forward to grab his hand. “You do know that you caring, being here, helps lots, right? Thank you for coming to check on me.”

“Always,” Oliver squeezed her hand. “Felicity, you have helped me more than you will ever know. Hell, you saved my life. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Felicity felt herself tearing up again. “This is all your fault!”

Oliver chuckled as he pulled out his phone to order pizza.

~~~~

Felicity caught him up on the rom-coms he missed while he was on the island. She said they help with the pain so he persevered, he’d never let her know that he secretly liked them but he suspected she knows anyway.

She was dozing at her end of the couch, he could hear her soft snores. He got her so more pain relievers and a fresh hot water bottle. He thought maybe he was overstaying his welcome. He began to carefully get up from the couch.

“Stay,” Felicity said softly. She wiggled herself into more of a sitting position as she rubbed her eyes beneath her glasses. “I mean if you can. I understand if you have to be somewhere. It’s just, I’d like you to stay. I will stay awake, I promise.”

“Felicity, there is nowhere I’d rather be. You don’t need to stay awake. I just thought maybe I had overstayed…”

“NO!” Felicity cut him off. She looked around for a moment. “I’ve been a terrible host, what with you doing all the taking care of me. Is there anything I can do for you? I might be able to…” Felicity began to swing her leg out from beneath the blanket to get up.

“Oh, no, you don’t! You rest. Unless you have to go to the bathroom then, of course, go; just don’t get up on my account. I don’t need anything. I got my rom-coms, we still have pizza - I’m totally taken care of.”

“Okay, but the next time you are sick. I promise I’ll be there.”

“Felicity, I don’t get sick,” he said with the confidence of a man who survived the island.

“Okay,” she smiled. “How about 27 Dresses?”

~~~~~

Felicity was feeling much better the next day. She was more than happy to return to her life at Queen Consolidated and fighting crime.

She spent most of her morning rescheduling the meetings that Oliver had cancelled in her absence. He told her he didn’t like doing things without her. This was sweet but also created a lot of work.

“Yes, Mr. Queen will definitely make this meeting. Yesterday, was a little bit of anomaly,” she repeated over and over again.

Once everything was rescheduled, she headed into Oliver’s office to let him know she was heading out for lunch. “I’ve rescheduled everything. Just going to grab some Big Belly Burger. Did you want some?”

Oliver looked up for his desk. “Yes, I'd like a- a-” Oliver lifted a hand as a signal for her to wait. He screwed up his face trying to hold a sneeze back in vain. "A-A-ACHOO!!!"

Felicity could see his eyes were glassy and he was a little flushed. “Oh, Oliver! I’m going to reschedule the meetings. I’m going to take you home. The lair is no place to be when you are sick. We’ll get you some chicken soup, some rom-coms, and soft tissues. I am here for you.”

“Felicity,” Oliver tried to sound forceful but failed. He shook his head. “I guess you are right.”

“Oh, honey, I’m always right. Now, let’s get you home.” Felicity started helping Oliver out of his chair when Diggle poked his head in the door.

“Everything alright?”

“Oliver’s sick, Digg. Can you give us a ride back to my place and if you could bring over some comfy clothes for him?” Felicity ushered Oliver out the door knowing Diggle was behind them.

“Felicity, do you need me to help?” Diggle smiled.

“No, I got this. We just need to get him home,” Felicity gave Digg a wink she knew Oliver might be milking this a bit but she didn’t mind at all.

Digg drove the two back to Felicity's and got them inside. He helped get Oliver set up on the couch. He turned back to Felicity. “I’ll head over to the lair grab some clothes for him. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be okay, Digg. Felicity will take care of me,” Oliver gave a small smile as he closed his eyes.

“Yes, I will. I will always take care of you, Oliver,” Felicity took a seat next to Oliver on the couch.

Thanks for reading! Tagging a few people who might be interested: @memcjo @stephswims @julieofrandomfandoms @cruzrogue @laurabelle2930 @tdgal1 @vaelisamaza @oliverfel4 @swordandarrow

#I Will Take Care of You Always #olicity fanfiction #Birthday Present #oliver x felicity #MyFanfic #Season 2

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maya-net · 4 years ago

Text

Documentation on a Silver Exorcist, a Small Medium, a Smiling Siren, et al. - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Stars Align: Emma Xing Qixin, Tech Support and Professional Administrator of the Unofficial Zheng Ge’s Fanclub

The rustling of the seven large plastic packages of heavily discounted ramen complements the unforgivably nasty squeak of the styrofoam that protects the equally heavily discounted century eggs that Emma had spent the last of her weekly budget on. Squashed together in a trusty, faded blue shopping bag, they are placed very carefully on the chair. Her backpack is dropped just slightly less carefully onto another chair, and she rolls her shoulders, breathing in the various blends of caffeine and sugar wafting around the SunDollarsTM store that she had desperately scouted for.

Xiqiang glides into the chair opposite, and with an elegant slide of an arm, slips Emma’s other equally faded blue shopping bag on to the seat beside her. Emma doesn’t understand how a human being can be that graceful, and sends a silent apology to her mom for being a failure of a daughter.

“I will order some refreshments,” Xiqiang’s voice washes over the background noise of the other patrons in the café. “What would you like? It will be my treat.”

“Oh no no no, no need! I have -” Emma grunts as she bends over her backpack and pulls down the zipper ornamented with the keychain of a blond cyborg, “a gazillion SundollarsTM gift cards! My college orientation and faculty events have the occasional lucky draws or mini contests, and I’d always get something out of them. It’s great, really. I regift them to my friends for birthdays. Saves me time and money from having to buy actual birthday presents. I keep my money, they get their coffee. But. Um. You didn’t hear that.” With some difficulty, she wrestles out a bright red gift card from the stack that is threatening to burst out of the seams of the pouch sewn into her backpack. “Ah, I’ll save this table. Could you help me order a large caramel frappe? And maybe one of their giant cookies. Any flavour is fine. Please and thank you!”

A pause. “Very well,” Xiqiang graciously replies as she accepts the gift card.

Seven minutes later, Emma is happily slurping down her frappe as a countdown timer to the livestream event pops up on her laptop screen. 47 minutes to go. Her ears are now plugged with a pair of earphones. Opposite her, Xiqiang is steadily typing away on her laptop with unnaturally impeccable posture.

It is at this very moment. That the universe decides to be an utter demon and opens the gates of chaos on what was supposed to have been a peaceful night with Emma Xing and the livestream of her Zheng ge, actor-singer and golden-hearted, multi-talented John Zheng.

Incoming Video Call: Estelle Xing

Emma accepts the call on her phone, and props it up on the table with the camera angled at her. She connects her second pair of earphones (won from a secondary school Poetry-in-Motion Competition with her epic poem Blood is a Vein Work of Art-eries) and stuffs the side with the microphone into her right ear. “Mom.”

“Emma. The house has no WiFi. My phone has not enough data to stream Gege’s event.”

“What. Why? Is it the router again? Did you turn it off for thirty seconds and turn it back on again?”

"Yes. Actually, I called Cellularity and they said that they were having a city-wide network issue.”

“Tch. D*mn company. I keep telling you to switch service providers!” Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “Wait, where’s Gramma? We all know she's the tech-savvy one, shame on you.”

“... She’s with her tai chi group today.”

“What?! I thought that was next week! And how could she miss Gege’s stream?!”

“... They rescheduled because one of their grandsons is getting married next week...”

“... Just... Go to a café or somewhere with WiFi and stream it there. Do you have leftover SundollarsTM gift cards from my last visit?”

Emma’s mom grimaces. “Yes. See, I actually thought of that. I’m at the nearest one.” The camera angle wobbles, and the queue of chattering teenagers at the cashier behind Emma’s mom blips into view for a hot second.

Emma feels a strange sense of pride well up in her chest. “Mommy! So smart!”

Mommy laughs weakly. “Haha. Ah. Yah. I bought a strawberry shake. And then they told me that SunDollarsTM’s WiFi is actually with Cellularity. All the branches. In the whole city.”

… “Mom. Why is your luck so bad. Also. Why! Are! You! Drinking a strawberry shake! You are diabetic!”

“Almost diabetic! And this is low sugar! And! All my good luck was used up to give birth to you. Emmiee~”

“Don’t Emmie me! Aiyah, hang up hang up, don’t waste your data. I’ll message Danny. He’s with DiGiTellTM, not that bloodsucking Cellularity. You can go leech off his Wifi.”

“Aiyoh, your Danny, how can you do this to him - “

“ByeMomloveyou.” Emma ends the call, and snatches her phone off the table to begin typing at the lightspeed typical of her generation. The baby blue smiley starfish phone charm attached to it smacks her knuckles.

“Um. Pardon me,” Xiqiang coughs politely. Emma’s eyes dart up. “Your earphones weren’t connected properly.”

Oh.

“Oh. Aaaaaaahahahahahahaha! Ha! Sorry about that! I’ll just...” Emma mumbles and screws in the earphone jack infinitesimally. “... tighten... this. I don’t use this pair very much. I forgot it does that. Sorry.”

“It is fine.” Xiqiang blinks at her curiously. “Your mother is in WalaysiaTM?”

Emma’s fingers pause in their assault on her phone’s keyboard, brown eyes wide. “How did you know? Oh. Oh of course.” She slaps her forehead. “Our SundollarsTM WiFi here is obviously fine. We obviously don’t have Cellularity here in CanataTM. And yeah, I kind of revert to my accent when I’m with my family. You can tell?”

Xiqiang nods politely. “I see. Well, I do hope that this works out for you and your mother. You seem to be... close?”

Emma beams. “Thanks!” She returns to her phone.

LuckyStar: Danny.

No reply. She frowns.

LuckyStar: Danny DanyDanny. Dannyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Seen by BetterDanU 7.08PM

Emma’s nostrils flare.

LuckyStar: DANNY YOU DIPSTICK WAKE UP WAKEUP I KNOW UR AWAKE EMERGENCY

LuckyStar: DANIEL NG! U WAKE UP OR ILL POST THAT NEW YEARS VIDEO OF U. U KNOW WHICH ONE

BetterDanU: …

BetterDanU: I actually WAS SLEeping because some ppl actually have to WORK friday nite and want to zzz sat morning.

BetterDanU: Have u not headr of timezones. WHAT DO U WANT

LuckyStar: Liar, i know ur schedule, u were def not sleeping.

LuckyStar: Gege’s livestream is today!

BetterDanU: … I know. U wouldnt shut up abt it. wat do u want

LuckyStar: Cellularity’s wifi is down all city and mom cant stream it

BetterDanU: tell her to go to sundollars

LuckyStar: sundollars is w cellularity! 😡

BetterDanU: … bloodsuckers.

LuckyStar: I KNOW. Anyway, mom is at the sundollars near our house. U know which one. Go pick her up n let her use ur wifi pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaz

BetterDanU: …......… fine.

LuckyStar: tnx ur the best!

BetterDanU: go away

With that situation handled, Emma neatly bites off one point of her star-shaped cookie, and turns her eyes back to her laptop screen. 36 minutes to go.

Score: Emma – 1; Universe – 0.

The Universe decides to try again.

Incoming Video Call: Emily Xing

Emma slowly swipes across her phone screen after triple-checking that her earphones are 100% plugged in.

“... Hi Gramma.”

“Emma!” Several ladies’ heads of various artificial shades of red, brown and black bob into view behind Emma’s grandmother’s face on Emma’s phone. “Why can’t we log in to your VooDooTM account on Mimi’s computer?”

“... Gramma, did you all reschedule your tai chi group to watch Gege’s stream together using my VIP account which you definitely bragged about to them?”

“Emily, we kowtow! Your Emma is the best!” hollers one of the ladies. Emma’s grandmother preens.

Gramma, Emma despairs, why are you so Asian?

“Emmie~”

Emma closes her eyes and mutters, “Don’t Emmie me...”

“We have VooDooTM open on my laptop, but there is seven of us and one laptop is not enough! Mimi’s computer cannot access the page! It says – it says – what does it say?!” Emma’s grandmother yells.

“This content is not available in your country!” Aunty Mimi yells back from somewhere behind.

Emma sighs in exasperation, “Gramma, they’ll need to install a VPN. Do you remember how we did it on your computer?”

Emma’s grandmother is stunningly silent for a solid three seconds, and shakes her head. Emma sighs again. “What’s the address?”

One minute later:

LuckyStar: Danny danny danny

LuckyStar: is everytng ok w mom?

BetterDanU: yeah, shes taken over my living room and tv I hooked up to the comp.

BetterDanU: Shes drinkin a poisonous lppking pink drink and eating those giant star cookies they hv. Theyre not going to last until the end of the dtream.

LuckyStar: … wait.

LuckyStar: wHAT COOKIES. Get them away frm her, shes almost diabetic!

BetterDanU: how can someone be slmost diabetic???

BetterDanU: … she says its low sugar. theyre actually rpetty good.

BetterDanU: *pretty

LuckyStar: u traitor! and of all the typos to correct!

BetterDanU: ….......

LuckyStar: anyway, DANNY I NEED UR HELP ITS ANOTHER EMERGENCY

BetterDanU: what now

LuckyStar: dont tell mom this,

BetterDanU: oh? gossip?

LuckyStar: but gramma is with her taichi grp now and theyre trying to stream Gege’s event on two computers but the second one wont work becz they need vpn on that one

BetterDanU: Wow. brutal gramma.

LuckyStar: danny pleeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaase can u go help them install the vpn

LuckyStar: pleeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase 🥺🥺🥺

BetterDanU: ….............

BetterDanU: where r they

Twenty-ish minutes and one VPN install and seven impressed old ladies and one harrassed Daniel Ng later, Emma daintily bites off the second point of her star cookie.

Emma – 2; Universe – 0.

Xiqiang sips her tea quietly as Emma narrates this second victory to her, and then digresses into hero-worshipping multi-talented, golden-hearted John Zheng.

Emma swoons. “We all stan him so much across multiple generations! Sure, he’s eye candy, but you know what, even I can admit that, objectively, he’s not the best looking. No but!” She sucks in some of her frappe to quickly rehydrate, “Even though his eyes are not 100% symmetrical, you know they’re 100% real! Can’t say the same about everyone else! Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And! Even though his teeth aren’t 100% perfect... You should see his smile! Oh! My! Heart!” She clutches said heart. “So genuine! Like a bunny! And most of all, that VOICE! That BRAIN! And that HEART!”

Xiqiang tilts her head slightly in what is definitely interest.

“You should watch his songs and dramas and his interviews! He’s really mature, has a charming sort of wisdom, and he really understands his characters. He works so, so hard, and he’s super nice to everyone, even his janitors! And even his haters! Like, what the heck!” A deep sigh. “He is. The Best Guy. In the Universe.”

And thus, the Universe’s third Attempt at utter buffoonery manifests itself in the yet another round of buzzing of Emma’s Very Tired phone. Emma slowly slumps in her seat. Xiqiang’s almond eyes flick to the poor phone, and she excuses herself as she returns to her own laptop for business-y exorcist stuff.

Emma breathes in. Very Deeply. And returns to her Very Tired phone.

Alicia: Hi Emma!

Alicia: Its been a while. I hope you are well!

Emma scrolls up to check the last conversation she had with Alicia. Eight months ago, when they had exchanged the obligatory birthday wishes, and then slinked back to their respective lives until the next birthday.

It’s a bit sad, actually. Emma and a handful of secondary school friends had once been pretty tight, having gone through the horrors of academia and adolescence together. But ever since graduation, everyone had sort of just... drifted apart. With the exception of Danny, practically everyone she knew and was close to had gone on to different cities and even countries to pursue tertiary education in fields so varied you would wonder how everyone had even managed to grow up together in the same academic cohort forced to take up certain courses due to the way their country’s totally not flawed educational system had been structured because of course everyone absolutely agrees on the complete relevance to real life that is inherent in subjects such as Physics and Geography and Moral Studies (which, in all fairness, would be considered a fairly necessary subject especially in today’s society, had it not been based on pure rote memorisation of the regimented definitions of pre-determined moral values instead of critically applying said moral values in the written scenarios thrown to them every exam) and flippin’ dipsticky CALCULUS and and and -

And we digress.

Emma: Alicia! It’s been a while!

Emma: How may I help u?

Alicia: Heehee. 😇

Alicia: iirc, I think u mentioned that u got a VIP VooDooTM account?

Emma: … Alicia you leech! Go buy ur own account!

Alicia: im poor and u know it!

Emma: We’re millennials! We're all poor!

Emma: go upgrade with a 30 day free trial. Then just unsubscribe after.

Alicia: I can’t. 😭 I did it before and ti remembers my email add and wont let me do it again.

Alicia: *it *won’t

Emma: Then use another email add! We’re millennials! Who doesn’t have a back up email account?

Alicia: I did! I used up my JmailTM, insightTM, innet, etc etc accounts last year

Emma: Use ur parents’!

Alicia: I did! They were

Alicia: Confused when they got the notifs but thank goodness they thought it was Junk 😊

Emma: … Girl, how much drama do you watch on there.

Alicia: Too much. Im in too many fandoms.

Alicia: EMMA PLEASE! It's just to watch John Zhengs promo livestream for The Fox today! I swear I will not misuse ur account!

Alicia: One day when I have money, I swear I will buy my own account.

Emma: That is a lie and we both know it.

Alicia: 🤐

Emma remembers their shared afternoons of literal tears after every Calculus test they barely passed, and curses her soft heart as she gives Alicia her user name and password in an act of benevolence which she somehow has a feeling she will come to regret.

Alicia: Thank you sm. U rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Emma: Its so u don’t get desperate enough to do anytng illegal.

Alicia: We both know im not that smart lol

Emma: We are legal! And scrupulous!

Emma: For Zheng ge!

Alicia: For Zheng ge!

“John Zheng seems to have an unusually loyal fanbase,” Xiqiang comments from behind her laptop. Emma nods absent-mindedly. She has barely bitten off the third point of her star cookie when her Very Very Tired phone begins buzzing again.

Incoming Video Call: BetterDanU

No longer keeping track of her score with the Universe, Emma sinks lower into her chair under Xiqiang’s intrigued gaze, and weakly answers her phone, “Hello?”

She does not expect her grandmother’s distraught face under the profile name of BetterDanU: “Emmie! Why can’t we log into your account with another computer? It says that – that – Danny ah, what does it say?”

Emma nearly spits out blood. “How many devices are you trying to log into?!” Her hard-earned, greatly coveted VIP account that no one else seemed to want to buy for themselves allowed simultaneous sign-ins to a maximum of ten different devices, a feature that was absolutely necessary for the three generations of the Xing family.

“Mimi’s daughters and granddaughters came downstairs and heard about Zheng ge’s livestream. Two laptops are not enough for all of us, so of course we had to get more!”

Emma sends a silent thank you to Danny who by now must be an expert on VPN installations. Speaking of which.

“Danny, you there? Just sign up for a free 30-day trial account. And don’t forget to unsubscribe later.”

“I did.” Danny’s muffled voice sounds admirably calm, but there is definitely the subtlest note of misery in it. “Aunty Mimi’s granddaughter invited her neighbourhood friends to watch the stream, and we are out of accounts.”

“How! Many! Computers?!”

Emma thinks she hears a suspicious clearing of the throat from Xiqiang that may or may not have been a laugh. Emma locks eyes with her in despair.

There is a tiny, tiny curl of Xiqiang’s lips as she casually remarks, “I am done with my e-mails for the day, and would like to relax with some form of entertainment. VooDooTM seems to have quite the selection of highly rated dramas like you advertised so eagerly to me earlier, and I have been told that there will be a promotional livestream this evening for the much-anticipated... The Fox?” There is definitely a sparkle in those almond eyes. “I thought it might interest you to know that I have decided to watch this livestream, and will do so on my newly purchased VIP account, the user details of which -” she slides over a SundollarsTM napkin covered in the prettiest handwriting Emma has ever had the good fortune to lay her bloodshot eyes on, “ - are written here.”

Emma stares at her with now goo-goo eyes. “Xiqiang! You are a literal angel!”

“Xi-what? Who are you with?” Danny’s head pops into view next to Gramma’s gleeful face.

“Danny! I’m hanging up! I’ll send you a new user account info you guys can use!”

“What -” his calm façade is definitely slipping.

Emma does not hear the curious titters of “Xiqiang? Wah! What an intimidating name!” “Who would dare to name their son Xiqiang?” “Must be very strong!” “Must be very shuai!” as she chirps in reply, “A professional exorcist, your saviour, and my new bf!”

A delicate clink of a white plate ladened with fresh chocolate chip muffins jerks Emma’s eyes up from her phone. “Oh, a snack for the stream? Xiqiang, did you order this? You shouldn’t have!”

Xiqiang leans forward to divide the muffins evenly. “It is fine.”

Danny chokes on the other line, “What what what -”

“Now don’t bother me anymore, Zheng ge’s livestream is going to start. Check your message! I’ll send you the info! See you later! Bye, Gramma! Bye, Aunties! Enjoy the stream! Zheng ge fighting!”

LuckyStar: [photo attached]

LuckyStar: Isn’t that THE prettiest handwriting you have ever seen?

LuckyStar: Oh, but if you can’t read it, the login name is YXQ_Gege

LuckyStar: and password is LuckyStar123

LuckyStar: wow. what a sense of humour.

LuckyStar: Anyway! U seriously rock! Thanks Danny! I owe u my life!

LuckyStar: Aunty mimi makes seriously good cakes, so u might as well stay.

LuckyStar: And remember, don’t tell mom!!!

BetterDanU: WHO IS XIQIANG AND WHY IS HIS PASSWORD UR USERNAME

The star cookie is decimated as Emma congratulates herself on a job well done against the schemes of the Universe. Her laptop screen is flooded with comments when John Zheng’s shy smile fades into view as the livestream finally, finally begins.

“Gege!” Emma whisper-squeals. “You can’t hear me and you don’t know I exist! But! You will not believe the night I’ve just had! Your face heals my eyes and your heart heals my soul!” She silences her desperately buzzing phone.

Xiqiang breathes in deeply, and lets herself smile for the first time in a very long time. After an unusual evening of using the Skytrain for the first time, encountering a low-levelled spirit which the Council had not thought to Cleanse, meeting the most interesting Class Three medium who was currently hugging her backpack as she immersed herself in a long-awaited livestream of a clearly beloved celebrity who she had taken great pains to introduce Xiqiang to, and putting the tiniest dent in her bank account to sign up for a VooDooTM account for various reasons, Xiqiang relaxes in her chair, and does not let herself think about tomorrow.

Character Profiles

1. Emma Xing Qixin

Emma is derived from the Germanic word ermen meaning "whole" or "universal". Emma is also used as a diminutive of Emmeline, Amelia or any other name beginning with "em".

星 (Xīng): star

运气 (Yùnqì): luck

欣 (Xīn): happy

Height: 154 cm; 5.05 ft | 159 cm (error; there is a story behind this)

Tools: Several reuseable shopping bags, backpack, blond cyborg keychain, laptop, secondhand phone, baby blue smiley starfish charm bought by her mom Estelle and customised further by her grandmother Emily

2. Xiqiang

希望 (Xīwàng): hope

强度 (Qiángdù): strength

For the sake of this story, “Xiqiang” is considered a very masculine name.

Height: 179 cm; 5.87 ft

Tools: Laptop, traditional calligraphy brush set, angled-tip pen set, normal ballpoint pen set

3. Estelle Xing

Estelle is a female given name of Latin origin, and means star.

星 (Xīng): star

Yes, her name literally means Star Star.

Emma Xing’s mother. Has rather bad luck. She admits that, although her daughter can drive her up the wall, she is her greatest blessing and happiness.

4. Daniel Ng

Daniel is a masculine given name and a surname of Hebrew origin. It means "God is my judge".

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Ng (pronounced [ŋ̍]; English approximation often /ɪŋ/ or /ɛŋ/) is a Cantonese transliteration of the Chinese surnames 吳/吴 (Mandarin Wú) and 伍 (Mandarin Wǔ). Alternately, it is a common Hokkien transcription of the name 黃/黄 (Pe̍h-ōe-jī: N̂ɡ, Mandarin Huáng).

Emma Xing’s errand boy. And former classmate. The real MVP.

5. Emily Xing

Emily: "rival" or industrious and hardworking, comes from the Latin name Aemilia.

星 (Xīng): star

Emma Xing’s grandmother. Is more techno-savvy than her daughter/Emma’s mother Estelle Xing. Story behind that TBA.

6. Alicia

Alicia means “of noble kind/sort/type” (from Germanic “adal” = noble + “heit” = kind/sort/type).

Emma Xing’s friend from secondary school. They have both narrowly passed Calculus exams together, which cannot be said for all their classmates.

7. John Zheng

The name John is a theophoric name originating from the Hebrew name יוֹחָנָן‎ (Yôḥānān), or in its longer form יְהוֹחָנָן‎ (Yəhôḥānān), meaning "YHWH has been gracious".

战争 (Zhànzhēng): war

Author is now too lazy to come up with a Chinese name, thank you very much.

Author’s Notes

Character profiles will not be written for every single character because ain’t nobody got time for that. They will be updated as the story progresses. If I have the discipline to actually write this dang story. \o/

This is just a test run. I have not truly touched creative writing in a very, very long time, and have sadly lost many different characters and plot bunnies over the years as I never had the will to just put pen to paper, or finger to keyboard. And neither have I ever tried tackling anything this ambitious, if you can call this ambitious. (Well, actually, I did make a pathetic attempt at a novel ten or so years ago, and reading THAT draft just made me cringe and shrivel up and die on the inside. Which will probably happen to this fic in ten years’ time? \o/ )

Oh my gosh, I’m so tired of formatting this now. Please excuse any typos because I just. Cannot.

If you somehow stumbled across this fic and read until the end, bless your heart, bless your eyes, and thank you for reading!

#DSESMSS #Documentation on a Silver Exorcist A Small Medium A Smiling Siren et al.#Documentation #fic #words #writing #my writing #detentio mea #do not copy to another site #don't copy to another site #derp #maya-net

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