#wc: 1411 ... i think

[daengtokki]

Heyy there :) I literally can't stop thinking about SKZ f!additional member AU and softie Seungmin who seems nonchalant like the unbothered king he is but caring just deeply about reader, for example looking out for her when practice gets tough, getting snacks during recording sessions and so oooon. Yeah, I'm weak for that. Maybe you are, too. Have fun during this fluffy week either way^-^<3

This trope is interesting, but I've never actually read a single fic based on it! I'm not sure if I would do it justice. I do have an idea, though, and it's in the same vein as this, and I can add in the things that you're weak for (because same). The problem is…I can’t do it in a single ~1k word oneshot 🥲

So thank you for the inspiration for a new possible longer story! Unless everyone absolutely hates it.

If you like it, I’ll be happy.

idol!Kim Seungmin/guest artist!reader/idol!Chan x reader △

wc: ~1.1k (part 1?)

rating: angst to fluff

Day 5 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

It's a few more weeks at the most, maybe longer, and after that...he'll probably never see you, or talk to you again. The planning stages of this was fun, he admits, and all eight of you sitting around the table talking to you on speakerphone; the excitement in everyone's eyes and voices was contagious. And of course Seungmin is excited...it's you. He's been a fan of yours for as long as he can remember, so having the opportunity to work alongside you, and maybe even sing with you? It’s a dream come true.

That's the problem.

He hasn't slept properly in a few days, and he's feeling very puffy and tired. There's only so much he can do now to prepare himself. He took a cold shower this morning, drank as much water as he could handle, but after that he couldn't stomach more than half of his iced coffee. It's still in his hand, numb from the almost melted ice, and dripping steadily on the floor. You're somewhere in this building right now, and you could walk in with the others at any moment.

Time to turn off. Turn off or make a complete ass of himself.

/ / /

You feel a little awkward as you walk toward the meeting room...recording studio? You actually have no clue where you're going, but you're flanked by two much taller men you don't know, and in front of you is Chan, who was a little red in the face when he was talking to you and asking you to call him Chris. So you do.

"Chris?"

He turns and smiles at you, and it's so...something you can't and refuse to deal with right now, you think. No. It's cute, and it's shy. The photos you've seen of him before today really did nothing for him, even the good ones. But you're a professional, and you are very good at acting professional when needed. Even when sweet, attractive men are involved.

"Yeah, all good?"

"Good, yeah! Where are we headed? Should I be mentally preparing to meet everyone?"

"Yes, definitely start preparing right now"

One more right turn and something about the door up ahead feels like the one. Meeting suite 1411. That's the one. Chris opens the door and moves aside to let you in first, and the room is empty, or appears to be. Security fell back and took up guard at the end of the hallway (unnecessary and embarrassing, you told Chris when they appeared).

"Oh, nobody is here...okay." He checks his phone and scrunches his nose, and you kind of feel like kissing it. "I'm sorry, I guess everyone ignored the group chat this morning."

"That's alright, are they somewhere else?"

"It's possible, but..." he points to the table filled with snacks and drinks. "I don't wanna drag you around looking for them." The phone is to his ear, and you hear it ringing, and ringing...

"I can wait here if you have to go find them. I already see a coffee carafe with my name on it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I haven't had enough coffee or stare at my phone time this morning, anyway. And my friends are down the hall."

He smiles so big, you have to return is just as enthusiastically. Maybe he'll turn up his flirting, and you won't have to feel as responsible for your own.

"I'll be right back"

Chris turns on his heel and is gone, and the room is so quiet. Maybe you should put some music on. Before anything, you look over the catering and wonder if anyone will actually have time to enjoy this. The coffee and lemon water, sure, but this is actually a full-course meal in front of you. Just as you fill your cup with coffee, you hear music...but you don't think you pushed play yet.

No, definitely not, because it's your voice that you're hearing. You turn toward it, and jump when you see him standing there, almost mid-step, one hand reaching to pull at his earlobe. His eyes are wide, but other than that...he seems less surprised to see you than you are to see him. But he does at least pause the music.

"Hello," you say, hoping to get him to come a little closer. Whoever he is, and you feel like you should remember all of their names by now, he looks a little annoyed that he now has to share this space and this coffee with someone else. "My eyesight isn't great even with the contacts... I don't bite."

"Hi," he takes a few steps toward you, and you watch his long legs move in his shorts and socks and clean black converse. "I'm–"

"No, I can remember...give me a second"

He does, but he doesn't seem happy about it. This one doesn't have the carefree smile that Chris did, or the shy demeanor. It's a bit distracting, the way his lips purse into a heart, and the way his big brown eyes look down at you. His hair falls perfectly in front of his eyes, but you're pretty sure he woke up looking this good.

"Oh..." it comes to you, sort of. "You're the puppy, aren't you?" You think you see the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it's gone so quickly. "Seungmin."

"Yes, I'm the puppy. And also Seungmin."

The puppy persona fits him, at least physically. His face is soft and round, his big brown eyes turn every so slightly downward, and his ears—something about the way his ears sit on his head, is so... "it's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise"

Seungmin holds out his hand for you. You do the same, and he takes it so gently. His touch and his mien don't seem to match, and you wonder if the first impression isn't the one to remember for this one.

/ / /

Seungmin finally takes a deep breath when you turn and head toward the coffee again, and he watches as you very carefully add the smallest amount of milk and sugar to it. He finally finished his, so maybe he should make himself another cup. It gives him a reason to rejoin you instead of standing here looking like an idiot.

"Have you met everyone else, or just me?" What a stupid question, he thinks. "I mean, I'm sure you met someone...you're here."

"I met Chris. He left to go find all of you, but you must be the only one who read the message and listened."

"Yes, I saw the message. I like to be on top of things."

The way his voice lowers as he speaks sends a little shiver up your arms. Seungmin likes to be on top of things, and you love catching an innuendo wherever you can. You smirk, but wipe it from your face when you think he might be looking at you.

Seungmin sees the smile pull at your lips and then disappear immediately. "What?"

"Nothing,” you laugh. “I don’t think you talked much on the calls, did you?”

“I did not speak much, I don’t have too much creative say. I have some, it just depends on what we’re doing.”

“Well, it’s tough getting in there with eight of you, I’m sure. Everyone can’t be everywhere…too many cooks in the kitchen.”

Seungmin allows himself to laugh at that, but he stifles it a little and turns away. You’re as cute and relaxed in person as you seem in interviews, and on stage, and it’s a little overwhelming. He can’t let himself do this—he can’t get himself into something he won’t be able to escape. But he seems to remember reading something about a possible relationship you’ve gotten yourself into. Thinking about that breaks his heart a little, but it’ll at least help keep him away.

None of that matters, though. Why would you have any interest in him in the first place?

“Do you want coffee? How do you take it?”

Dammit, okay… “black is good.”

[wildemaven]

How Good It Is

Pairing: Benny Miller x Single Mom F!Reader

WC: 1411

Warnings: 18+ Blog; single mom, mention of child, new relationship/secret for the sake of the child, p in v (unprotected; on birth control), cumplay (I think), oral (f receiving), nipple play, feelings and fluff!

A/N: This is set early on in their relationship, before Supply & Demand. This was mainly based off some steamy kitchen blinking, and then I decided to add some feelings to it too. This is not beta’d, so all the mistakes are my own doing. Title is based off of this song.

Wild Love Series / Playlist / Main Masterlist

You were familiar with early mornings. Seeking solitude in the stillness as you meander throughout the house, coffee ground and dripping steadily before the sun had a chance to penetrate the kitchen windows. 

Weekday mornings were more structured and planned out—  breakfast, work emails and light chores were tended to between sips from your ceramic mug. Then you were rushing through last minute homework questions, packing lunches and adjusting outfits before heading to the bus stop at the end of the block. 

Weekends were less demanding of your time. There was an ease to them. If it was your weekend with your daughter, there was nowhere to rush off to, your time spent reading the book you had picked up from the library recently as you gradually drained the coffee pot. 

That was until Benny ambled into your life 9 months ago. A steady friendship grew into something a little more intimate as the weeks went on. 2 months after meeting him, following the win of one of his fights, he was asking to see you exclusively— girlfriend. 

Between work emails, you now quietly text him asking about his plan for the day, how his training session the night before went, even an exchange of a selfie or two— him still laid back in bed with his tousled hair and sleepy smile; you with your freshly washed face and a light touch of mascara, standing in front of the stove with a few eggs sizzling in a greased pan. 

If there was an opportunity for an actual phone call, you took it. You felt like teenagers, spending hours chatting about nothing and everything— there was never a dullness when Benny was involved. 

Those early morning phone calls slowly progressed into steamier conversations. Pent up desires, eager to be released in any capacity, resulting in the exchange of breathy gasps and yearning moans as orchestrated pleasure ripped through the sound waves over the phone. It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough— holding you both over until the next moment alone together. 

It was mornings like this one that you looked forward to, the house decorated in a trail of revealing lingerie, boxers and abandoned blankets leading to the hub of your home. The kitchen is quiet, save for the passionate efforts between the two of you, that had you reeling in bliss. The two of you alone, hands finding purchase on bare slick skin and any sturdy surface. 

“Oh Fuck! Ben— don’t stop! fuckfuckfuck! I’m almost there!” You manage to say as Benny holds you against an open kitchen wall, your leg thrown over his hip while he avidly thrusts into you. 

“Same— shit! You feel so good, Babe! Not gonna last much longer!” His words muffled against your neck. 

With one hand firmly on your propped up leg, he manages to snake the other one between your bodies, settling on your little bundle of nerves. His fingers work beautifully in circular motions, your aching cunt seizing up instantly. 

“Ahh! Yes! Ben— fuckyesyesyes! I’m going to come!” A whine emerges from your throat, your head falling back against the wall as your orgasm begins to break— muscles tensing and pulsing in rapturous delight. 

Your fingers card through his sweaty blonde locks, scraping against his scalp in such a manner that has his hips stuttering as he chases his peak. 

“You’re so good! Let go, Ben.” Your words hit somewhere deep within him, plucking that last cord in just the right way. 

“Fuck! I— I lov— fuckhnnghshit!” His hand flying up and slamming into the wall behind you as his spend empties into your still pulsating heat. 

His head rests against your shoulder, releasing your leg gently onto the ground. His hands settle on your hips, his touch warm and thoughtful as you both come down for your highs. 

“Shit! I got too caught up, forgot to pull out. ‘M sorry.” His breath fans across your chest, his apology riddled with sincerity. 

You pull his head up to your face, his baby blues still beaming in a lusty daze as he gazes at you, your fingers still toying with his hair. 

“It’s okay— I told you it was fine with the birth control they put me on. It was kind of hot too!” You smirk at him. 

His lips find yours in an unhurried manner, a post kitchen sex make out, all while those 3 words he almost said were still fresh in your mind. 

“I love you too.” You say against his kissed out lips. 

Pulling away briefly, a smile plastered on his handsome face, taking in fully what you had said. 

“I wanted to say it fully, but then— ya know.” 

“I know. And I still love you, too. I want Rory to meet you.” You say, the l-o-v-e word still tickling your lips. 

“Meet me? I’m confused, she knows me pretty well.” His brows fur at you suggesting he meet your daughter, again. 

“Yeah, but she knows you as Benny— the MMA fighter, the fun guy at the barbecues who lets her have an ungodly amount of sugar, the guy who listens intently to her stories and makes her laugh at his silly jokes. I want her to meet you as Ben, my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah? Are you sure?” Your words hitting him fully, the possibility of being able to openly act like your boyfriend has excitement stirring in him. 

There was an understanding when you began seeing each other, that you wanted to wait until you were ready to tell your daughter. You wanted to be sure that he was serious about not only you, but your daughter as well— and over the last few months he had been nothing short of amazing in proving that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Very sure.” 

His softened cock finally slips out of you, his spend trickle down your thigh prompts him to grab a towel from the counter, kneeling down and gently wiping it off. 

“When is Rory due back?” He asks, kissing your hip then standing to his full height. 

You peer over to the clock on the stove, noting it’s 7:00 am and  your ex should be dropping her off around 8 am. 

“In the next hour or so.”

“Okay. I can grab my stuff, be outta here in the next 20 minutes.” He says before taking a drink of his forgotten coffee. 

“Or— you could stay and we can all have breakfast together?” Grabbing the mug from his hands, taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid. 

“Today? You want to tell her today?” You nod softly, smiling into the mug as you finish off the rest of his coffee. “Shit— Yeah! You think she’s going to like me?” A worried look creeps over his face. 

“Ben— She loves you! Don’t worry— we can have breakfast here, then maybe walk down for some donuts and more coffee— I drank the last of yours and I’m out of beans.” 

He grabs the cup from you and places it on the counter, pulls you from where you’re still against the wall and spins you over to the kitchen island. Patting at your hip, encouraging you to jump as he grabs the back of your thighs to help you onto the counter top. 

“How much time did you say we had?” He says as he plasters kisses along your collarbone. 

“Mmmm— ��bout an hour. Her dad will call when they’re almost here— Ahh!” You gasp as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his tongue massaging over the pebbled flesh before releasing it with a pop. 

His hand pushes at your chest to lay back, a few tugs at your hips to get you to scoot closer to the edge of the counter. A counter stool scraps across the wood floor, placing in front of your spread legs, he takes a seat. 

“Plenty of time for round three!” His breath is hot against your sensitive and wet cunt. 

A sexual essence infuses with the faint aroma of coffee, the minutes ticking away as Benny enthusiastically seeks out another earth shattering orgasm— discovering early on that over achieving was one of his best qualities. 

“Oh god!” You moan into the room as licks through your folds, his own moan vibrating against you as he tastes the salty mixture of you both. You grab on to the side of the counter, your back arches as his tongue flicks smoothly over your clit. 

“Just Ben, Babe.” 

[nanabrainrot]

I Live and I Lose

Based on an ask about the reaction of HMMC at Lalo’s passing.

Summary: Devote a lifetime to a man and have it vanish in a day.

Warnings! Suicidal thoughts, abusive relationship dynamic. 

ANGST Husband!Lalo/Wife!Reader

WC: 1411

A smile on the face and a ringing of the ears. It was like running to freedom on hot coals and then shattered glass barefoot for a mile. It was like the adrenaline rush of skydiving and the pain of falling into a field of cacti. It was like you were yourself again but not.

When you were younger and he died then, you would have jumped for joy. Cry tears of liquid gold and spring into the local creek, giggling and kicking like a girl again. But after twenty-four years? After two decades what use was rejoicing?

The look on his face is all grim and depressed, a symptom of the sincerity of his news: “Lalo died – passed away. We’ll bring you back to his hacienda after we bury him.” The beginning of the marriage was so painful, the two years locked away until you hit twenty were scorching and agonizing. The one-bedroom ranch and the little kitchen always seemed so hot; it was a cute cottage looking back but then it felt like a prison cell.

In the backseat of a car, you only say the same thing always said: “Yes,” “No,” or “Okay.” There is no point in negotiating with his cousins, their serious faces plastered in something different than indifference. The muscles are tense in Marco and Leonel, meaning they were putting on a brave face. Salamanca blood was like no other blood and to see it spilt or know it was gone forever was a grim experience that was expected given the line of work but not commonplace. They do look sad, you think. They never really do anything other than bored.

To think the kindness extended to you was not a comfort. In twenty-four years, you were known by your first name. Your whole identity diluted to “Lalo’s wife,” every talent and aspiration wrung like a rag by him and yet it hurt with everything that he wasn’t there. The resentment faded, somewhere along the fifth year, when papa’s farm was bustling and green and he looked content only because you looked content.

Happiness is a choice, surely. You can still smell him. The stupid house that is his but isn’t his that you no less slaved over because it was for him at the end of the day. The ludicrous concept of scrubbing counters with vinegar, cleaning the toilet, mopping the floor, sweeping the hallway, washing and folding and drying and steaming his expensive clothes that he got to choose and painstakingly wearing a sundress day after day – it feels like being thirsty and your first drink of water is piss.

You don’t hate Lalo. You don’t think there’s a point; hatred is a choice too.

What did you get from hating him now, after all was said and done? The Salamancas could have shot you like a dog, Lalo’s dumb and deaf wife who was one ring away from being an in-home maid, chef, and slut. But Marco and Leonel stared at you, back on the sofa, with your wide eyes unmoving. Blinking slowly. Open. Shut. Slowly. Dark for a moment. Open again. There he is, Marco, dark eyes and the fuzz on his chin with that harsh brow. Shut. Slowly. Dark for a moment. Oh, Leonel, with his sharp jaw and tense lips.

Shut.

Slowly.

Dark for a moment.

Eduardo. That day, back in June so many years ago, was like hell on earth. It was like stepping into a biohazardous chamber and being patient zero with a disease that would never leave you. But he was your husband. He got more handsome with age, something that made you thankful you didn’t jump into a ravine when you were young, because he looked and acted so mean when you were 18. That boyish immature cruelty that all teenagers had when he married you to lock you up as if he were buying a backyard bred puppy to keep on a chain all day.

Open. Slowly. No tears, but an, “Okay.” Marco and Leonel seem to understand you more than anyone. More than Tuco or Hector could, who were just as harsh in their own ways. At least Tuco had so much emotion you could see pity in his face. Hector might just slap your shoulder in that comforting old man way. But they saw the world as you did: wordlessly.

You wondered often if they didn’t speak by choice or it was squeezed out of them like Lalo did to you.

But the backseat is a different feeling, a new one. Lalo makes you sit front seat, hand tight on your thigh with a vice grip. Sometimes he would rub his thumb consolingly, like petting a pup. The first few times he took you for a ride it felt like being cornered, stuck in the moving mass of metal that he loved so much. Cried the first few car rides, around age 19, twenty-three years ago. There’s no hand on you, for once.

“Leonel, Marco,” you murmur, from the back. It hurts. It hurts in the heart, in the head, at the thigh, and in the hands. It feels like withdrawal, like Tuco when he was younger when he showed up at the hacienda with his head all in sorts. Twitchy. Like you need something that’s bad for you.

“What now?” it cracks, your voice. Ah, sounding like a wounded dog. A whining one expecting to be hit. Marco’s eyes tilt to you in the rearview, without pity that you can detect, but acknowledgement. Silence. Wrong crowd to ask, you thought. Wringing the manicured hands that still say “LALO” and the huge ring that feels like it’s burning your skin. What now?

After twenty-four years, he had denied you an education, socialization, companionship, autonomy, and opportunity and you fucking miss him. Because he loved you. He loved you in the wrong way, in a harsh way, but undeniably there was something like love. Why else would he keep you if he didn’t love you?

He could have swapped you out for a newer model, like one of the girls at Eladio’s parties, but no. Even as a gray or two popped up, even as the little crow lines formed at the eye or a little line between the brows, he stayed. He loved you so much he locked you up? Locked you away for two years away from anyone? Loved you so much he wrung any other words from you that weren’t “yes” or “no” or “okay.” To be seen and not heard for longer than some lifetimes made your stomach churn.

You miss him. You want him right now.

You want his hands on your thigh, the sureness of his movements. He wrung every ounce of self-confidence from you and had the nerve to not be bulletproof in the process; it occurs you aren’t bulletproof either. One bullet should be enough, some people survive attempts though you wonder about. It would suck to lose your mandible or be bound to a bed like Hector.

Oh.

“Marco, can you drive to see Hector? At the Casa Tranquila?”

 It’s so miserable. To be here, or be alive. It’s grim, almost aggravating these old people lived past fourty meanwhile Lalo has to be buried. Aggravating you had to live to fourty. It’s depressing, miserable, horrid, detestable, but human. Hector’s face, old with age, all white hairs and freckles with his lips doing that pursing, screwed up in misery as he rings that bell, pathetic and hurt. Lalo died. Tuco is in jail. Marco and Leonel don’t speak. The last one who visits him is the silent wife of his dead nephew, the girl who never spoke who grew into a woman who never spoke. But today, you don’t doodle.

Your watery little eyes blinking. You never fucking knew what to say, other than you and those silent boys telling him Lalo died. It’s agonizing, the feeling of loss. A nephew, a cousin, and husband. A quiet feeling.

“Tio Hector?” you murmur, feeling stupid, “can I take care of you away from Casa Tranquila? Go through this together?”

 It’s a feeling, grim and soul-crushing. The dark, dimly lit room with the television with some telenovela on. His skinny body in the chair and your frame sunken into the chairs, staring, but together. The moments alone, without him, without Hector, drive a sinking feeling in your belly. This is okay for now. Just for the moment.

- 

AUTHOR NOTES: In Breaking Bad, Tuco is the one caring for Hector but before Tuco gets out of jail HMMC cares for him because she knows Lalo loved him. She also secretly misses the dependence and feeling of being ‘needed’ so to say. She never got to go to school and never had a job so it’s difficult for her to be able to get back out there. Her reaction is initially conflicting but also the urge to end it because she has no idea where to go from there. But Hector in his chair comes to mind so in Breaking Bad, she likely would make a cameo taking care of Hector. Her dream is to go to school so she can work at Casa Tranquila but getting the papers are too much. Her and Tuco help with Hector and it’s kind of sweet brotherly dynamic he has with her <3 

[mxnark]

mina’s animal crossing adventure on totaldrama island! (graphic cred!) 

mina saved up a lot for this day. with each paycheck she received after she heard the news, she kept them in her savings for the faithful day dedicated to the new console, as well as the game that she had already preordered. so when the day finally came for her to start her island journey, she was more than prepared to get it. 

when she gets the package for her console, she’s ecstatic. she opens the box hurriedly and pulls out the console before she retreats to her room to start her adventure. she didn’t want to wait for her dad to help her out with setting it up on the tv because she doesn’t want her parents to walk in as she’s playing her game. knowing her mother, she’ll probably complain about how she’s doing nothing in the house but play video games like she did when mina got new leaf. 

after setting everything up, linking her nintendo account, she starts the game to be introduced to her favorite twin tanukis. to quote the most inaccurate, musical adaptation of a teenager’s high school experience that became a staple in western pop culture high school musical… this was going to be the start of something new. 

she couldn’t help but be a little bummed out over the fact that she got an ugly, squirrel with ugly bangs and a unibrow as her uchi villager. but she definitely was ecstatic to see genji as her starter jock. she always did like jock villagers, even if all they did was talk about working out. she knew she’d have to warm up to hazel eventually, though. besides her, fuchsia, and cherry, she personally didn’t think all the other uchi villagers were… pretty. 

the game starts off with the three tanukis and mina couldn’t help but miss her favorite blonde dog, isabelle, already. she knew the girl would show up soon, but she was perhaps the character she was most excited to see besides the other rumored new villagers for this lineup. nonetheless, she tells herself to stay patient with playing the game. if she were to time travel, she should do it later. 

she looks around her island to see what her two items were before grabbing her phone to tweet it out to her followers: cherries and tulips. honestly, she would’ve preferred hyacinths or roses, but she was pretty satisfied with having cherries. they were better than pears that was for sure. 

as she expected, there wasn’t that much to do on the second day. so when her mom calls her out for dinner, she quickly goes down with no arguments and no hesitation. it’s not like she’ll do that for when the next few days come. but… she does take longer as her island “totaldrama” grows. 

...

she grabs her phone out to rant about her next three villagers. 

“pate as my peppy villager is ok but i’d prefer someone like audie or cookie or bunnie :/ or maybe cheri bc bias LOL” 

a few minutes later. 

“omg pekoe as my normal villager? tea! i’m gonna put her next to genji on purpose hehe” 

and minutes later after that. 

“ugh broccolo as my lazy villager… i’d prefer erik or sherb over him smh” 

a few days have passed since she’s started and she’s able to get not only isabelle, able’s, and her museum, but also a campsite! when she sees an announcement of how there’s a new camper on her island, she goes to the campsite tent to see a sight she had dreaded to see ever since she had gotten new leaf seven years ago. 

the scream of agony she lets it rings through the house as her mom shouts at her to be quiet. she shouts back a “sorry!” before she grabs her phone to tweet about the repulsive, ugly turquoise hamster on her island that she sadly had to keep. 

“i got fcking rodn-🤢 rod 🤢 r 🤢 i cant even say his name he’s so UGLY EWWW” 

she adds to that tweet 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I GOT HIM… MY SMUG VILLAGER SHOULD’VE BEEN MARSHAL OR RAYMOND 😭 THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFEEE” 

she watches as her mutuals clown her for the unfortunate addition to her island, to which she sulks and goes back on her game to invite him onto her island. the day after that, she goes to his plot of land and internally sobs as she sees the message: 

“this spot reserved for rodney’s new home. 

- nook inc.” 

...

with two more spots left (the 7th being taken by murphy and 8th being taken by dom), she uses her one recently purchased nook mile ticket to go on a mystery island. all she had in mind was someone who she would think was cute and someone who was snooty. so when she goes on an island to see pink and blue bear cub ears in the distance, she stops and thinks to herself…. no… this can’t be. 

again, she goes on her twitter to tweet her excitement. 

“BITCH MY LUCK GOT ME AGAIN… FIRST DOM… AND NOW JUDY?!?!?!? THE BEAR W THE ANIME EYES AND THE PRETTY COLORS?!?!?!?” 

“I WAS SO UPSET W RODNEY BUT HERE IS THIS QUEEN… OMG… MY LUCK… MY POWER.” 

she puts her phone away as she makes her villager go up to the bear cub. 

“well there’s a fresh face,” starts judy’s dialogue (in animal crossing language, of course). “are visiting from another island as well?” 

click. 

she displays the laugh reaction. “of course you are. well, my friends call me judy. and you are?” 

click. 

“mina! all the way from totaldrama, even! isn’t that fascinating.” 

mina finds herself whispering to herself. “she’s so cute-” 

“mina! come down for dinner!”

mina calls out to her mom. “give me five minutes! i’m doing something!” 

“are you playing your video game?!” 

“yes! but i’m almost done!! just give me five minutes!” 

she looks back at her screen before she hits her a button again, her index finger pressing down on the r button at the top of her joycon so that the dialogue goes faster. 

“well, we may only be here a short time, but i do hope we get to know each other better,” judy continues before mina clicks again. “you don’t know this about me yet, but i am ALWAYS down to dish, darling.” 

and that ends the dialogue, but mina was not quite done yet. she makes her orange-haired villager go back to talk to judy again. 

“spending time on an island like this is so relaxing. i feel like a movie star… off on on an exotic vacation!” glee reaction. “ah yes, i could easily spend the rest of my days basking in this sort of island life, myohmy.” 

myohmy. the catchphrase is endearing to her. when she clicks on a, she doesn’t have time to think before her thumb presses for the “come to my island” response. 

“what? are you quite serious?” judy asks, a little surprised. “if i remember right, you said you’re… from totaldrama?” thought reaction. “it would be quite the adventure… and, of course, you would be there…” and a happy reaction follows right after as she says “that settles it, then! i’ll move to totaldrama and start a new life there, myohmy.” 

mina grins widely as she clicks a again and clicks on the option “best decision ever.” 

glee reaction. “wonderful!” she sings. “i will start preparing to move right away!” thought reaction. “but… how to proceed, i wonder?” click. “ah, a simple call to this tom nook fellow from totaldrama should suffice?” she smiles. “that i can do.” 

“mina!” 

“give me a few more minutes!” she calls out before she clicks again. 

judy uses the joy reaction. “i’m so glad i came here today!” then the exclamation reaction, to which mina snickers at the way judy’s anime eyes shrink just like an anime character’s. “who knew this one trip would change my everything?! life is funny like that.” her eyes return to normal as she uses the love reaction, a heart popping up above her head as she speaks. “sometimes it hands you a present out of the blue!” 

and before mina can click on her save button as she finishes her conversation with the cub, all she can think is yes. life can hand someone a present out of the blue. and for her, that present… is judy. 

[sworn-unbeliever]

01 - Crux

((While the dialogue is all made up, this event is based off of a true story. This incident is also what inspired Teremy to take up tanking in the first place and is important to him. Since this event took place during ARR, I mentioned Flash instead of Total Eclipse for the gladiator. Hope it’s okay!))

wc: 1411

"What in the Twelve's name are you doing, gladiator? Thinking, even?!" the party's thaumaturge snapped. "Gather all the enemy's attention to yourself! Not just the one!"

The thaumaturge's words fell upon deaf ears. The party's gladiator continued his assault against the one lone pirate as though engaged in a one on one duel. The pirates snorted at the thaumaturge as he ran past the gladiator. "Pfft. Like ye fancy us mindless drones. The real threat ain't that tin can with the rusty scrotum. It'd be this lovely lass here! Wouldn't you agree, lads?"

Like in agreement, the gladiator turned around. "My wounds need healing!"

The party's conjurer, who stood a good distance away from the gladiator, widened her eyes. She clutched her staff, her breathing quickly escalating. Her eyes darted between not the gladiator's foe, but the other two he had yet to account for. "You... you seem as lively as ever--"

"Do your job or we shall all perish!"

The conjurer shut her eyes and whimpered. As much as she wanted to deny the gladiator, she had no choice. She squinted one eye, wincing, and raised a trembling free hand and staff into ready positions. As though she had waited until the gladiator's wounds had reached critical point before doing anything, knowing exactly what would happen if she did. But now she had no choice. She had to do something. She hunched over, her robes slashed, tattered, and stained in dark crimson, as a faint glow emitted from the end of her staff. An equally faint glow of energy fell upon the gladiator, refreshing his wounds.

And just like the conjurer expected, that one brief glimpse of a flash had brought the attention of the other two pirates. Not any from the gladiator. Her.

The other two pirates quickly turned their attention away from the tunneling gladiator and beelined towards the conjurer. Whimpering again, the girl clutched her staff and shut her eyes tightly to brace herself for the upcoming attack. "Please someone... anyone... make them go away..."

That attack never came.

Instead, she opened her eyes at the sound of a loud whump and thwack in front of her. When the conjurer looked up, she saw Teremy Itsubishi, the party's pugilist, standing over the unconscious bodies of the pirates that had tried to attack her.

"You all right?" Teremy asked.

The conjurer nodded. "Y-yes. Thank you."

Teremy nodded slightly and turned his head towards the gladiator. Now with the threat of three pirates down, the gladiator charged off towards the next set. Again, the gladiator engaged in a duel with the solo. And again, Teremy ran to the conjurer's aid. To the first foe, a grab. A quick chop to the arm to disable him. A short-ranged but powerful punch that sent the pirate sailing back and crashing into the ground, never to stand again. To the other foe, a back kick to send him flying to his comrade. By the time the gladiator had finished his duel with the Thaumaturge breathing fire out of his rod and mouth as a back-up, Teremy had already taken care of the threats that dared touch the conjurer.

"Flash! You should be aware of this technique by now!" the thaumaturge snapped. "Render the enemies blind and keep the attention to you!"

As though dignifying a response was more important than actually fighting enemies, the gladiator whirled around to face the thaumaturge. "It's the conjurer's fault for drawing the enemy's ire to herself!"

The conjurer bit her lip. She bowed her head and clutched her staff so tightly, it looked as though her hands would bleed along with her wounds. Though the thaumaturge spewed more obscenities towards the gladiator, Teremy had heard enough. The pugilist had spent the entire party protecting the conjurer, rather than the gladiator, who spend the entire party reliving his colisseum days. There to fight enemies. Prisoners. Single opponents. The more Teremy thought about the juxtaposition between what a gladiator should be versus what he had actually been hired to be: a sellsword to protect his allies, the more Teremy felt a raging fire deep within him. He clenched his fist. He couldn't take this gladiator's behaviour any longer. Teremy marched up to the gladiator, pushed on the gladiator's shoulder to whirl him around, and sent one good slug at the gladiator's jaw. If not for a well-crafted helmet, the gladiator would have fallen unconscious by the time he finished reeling over. Instead, a good fist-sized dent laid on the side of the helm where Teremy's fist had done its deed.

"I can't believe you. You're a gladiator!" Teremy cried. "Your guildmaster stressed the importance of protecting others! But you've made clear that since you've come in here, the only one you've cared to protect was yourself."

The gladiator pulled himself up and dusted himself off. He stood straight and glared down at the pugilist. Teremy folded his arms. He was not backing down. Not while he was knew he was right. Not while he had spent the entire party proving he was right. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the gladiator spoke.

"Are you done?"

Teremy glowered. "No. We still have to clear our objective."

Without waiting for the gladiator to respond or even pull ahead, Teremy walked ahead of the party. If pirates or any kind of danger ran their way, he'd welcome them. Despite his lack of armor. Despite his ability to draw the ire of multiple to himself. The point of the matter was that the gladiator had been assigned to this party to protect everyone and he had failed to do so. Teremy was doing the gladiator's job for him. Whatever came their way, whatever the Gladiator had not paid personal attention to fell upon the conjurer. To which Teremy was ready. And not a single extra hand had laid been on the conjurer, not with Teremy's fists leaving any threat near-dead on arrival.

The party couldn't have found their objective fast enough: a set of maps that had been stolen by pirates. Once the thaumaturge stuffed the maps in his possession, the party turned tail and fled Satasha before any pirates intercepted them on the way out. For once since the party started, the gladiator took charge. Once out, the gladiator continued to run and fled, never to be seen again.

The thaumaturge shrugged. "Whatever in the nine hells that was--ah, forget it. Not worth any more of my energy. I'm handing these back to the client. I'll put in a good word for two-" he gestured to Teremy and the conjurer, "-and not that useless hunk of metal wherever he went. I'm out."

Magical energies gathered around the thaumaturge. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished.

Now Teremy stood alone with the conjurer. The pugilist found himself folding his arms and staring awkwardly at the conjurer's collarbone as he racked his brain to find anything to say. Should he ask how she was doing? Would that be patronizing? Congratulate her on getting out in one piece? Thankfully for Teremy's lack of social graces, the conjurer spoke first. She turned to him and bowed. "Thank you for protecting me back there."

Teremy stared at the conjurer and blinked. He hadn't been expecting to be thanked. He smiled a little and saluted. "Don't worry about it. Stay safe," he said and went his own way back to Limsa Lominsa. On foot. He could sure use some alone time after that experience.

***

Teremy's story of his Satasha incident could have ended there, but it didn't.

The moment he returned to Limsa Lominsa, he marched to the upper decks, eyes forward and focused. While his mind showed him images of his childhood - images of Teremy protecting merchants from bandits alongside his brother, images of Teremy shoving his brother out of Leviathan's way and getting swallowed up in his brother's stead, those thoughts served not as a distraction, but as reinforcement to his decision.

He had made up his mind. When he had arrived in Ul'dah, then came to Limsa Lominsa, Teremy had drifted aimlessly, not sure of his place in life. But that incident in Satasha had served as an epiphany. Now he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

"You want a job done right, do it yourself. If no one will protect the party, then I will," Teremy said to himself as he flung open the double doors to the Marauder's Guild.