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tealvz · 5 years ago

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Make Like a Bubble (And Fade Away)

(AO3) Summary: Despite everything, Remy finally makes a friend. He tries not to let this one slip his grasp too. Warning(s): Near drowning, vomiting, bullying(??) Pairing(s): Remile (platonic or romantic it’s up to you lol) Character(s): Remy, Emile, Deceit (Ethan in this) Word Count: 7188 A/N: sooo uhh here’s the story i said i was writing like 3 months ago sdhfsjkdfjkdsfh sorry it took so long, i got kind of self conscious about it… but now enough time has elapsed so that i dont really care that much anymore lmfao also… just a reminder… i dont really write that much so dont bully me too hard ple ase dssdhfjkdsh hope you enjoy tho! :)

A yawn escaped Remy’s mouth, and he held a hand over it in a feeble attempt to disguise it.

Today it seemed like the lights in the coffee shop were especially bright (he supposed it was due to the gloomy weather outside), so he’d opted to wear his glasses inside as well. Business was slow, since the hellish rush that were the hours after school let out had already passed. Remy found peace in the quietness of the shop, his only other companions being an old lady with tea chatting quietly with her husband and a college student clack clack clacking away at her keyboard in the corner next to the fern.

The bell atop the door jingled as someone walked in. Remy shut off his phone and stood up from the stool he was crossing his legs on, placing the device under the countertop.

“What can I get for you, cutie?” Sure, this method of greeting had gotten him in many heated conversations with his manager over the years, so he dialed it back from using it on every single person that entered the store to cute old ladies and cute boys.

And boy was he cute. And boy did he stand out. Remy had never met a person with dyed pink hair before (although he did have a period in middle school where he seriously considered it), but the vibrant color was fading so that it gave way to his natural brown. He was wearing a cardigan, and, perhaps most pressingly, was soaking wet.

The boy took off one of his earbuds, digging around in a pocket of his cardigan with a tongue sticking out. He was creating puddles on the hard wax floor that Remy would have to clean up (read: leave it for the next guy to deal with). “I’ll just take a large black coffee!” He chirped, seemingly unfazed by the nickname. Remy quickly punched the order in.

“Can I get your name?” Remy asked once more.

“It’s Emile,” The stranger said. Remy typed in ‘Emil’ into the machine and allowed a white sticker to print out.

A faint purple glow surrounded one of the large cups stacked near the register. It grew in intensity as Remy levitated it towards his person, slapping the sticker onto it lazily as it spun away from him. He was counting the $2.57 he’d have to give back in change to Emile as a similar purple aura lifted the coffee pitcher behind him.

“Oh… Wow,” Emile mumbled, causing Remy to glance up. His light brown eyes were trained on the scene unfolding in front of him, coffee pitcher pouring into a white cup all by itself. Streaks of yellow light accompanied the purple aura occasionally.

The finished drink landed in his hand alongside a lid to cap it. He settled the coffee pitcher safely on the table as he handed the drink and change to Emile.

“What’s your size cap?” Emile asked, leaning in ever so slightly as he took the items. “My mom has powers too, but they don’t look nearly as pretty as yours!”

“Well, I don’t do cars,” Remy listed. “I think the biggest it’ll go is people,” He omitted the fact that the only person he’d done it on was himself.

“My mom’s can only go up to jars… Things like that. Hers don’t have any colors though,” Emile nodded, more to himself than to Remy he supposed. “Imagine you could levitate buildings and stuff? Li-Like freaking Superman?! How awe- I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be that cool now that I think about it...”

“Nah, I think it’d be pretty cool,” Remy absently tapped his finger to his chin. “Lifting up the Statue of Liberty and just dunking it into the sea for kicks. That sounds kinda rad. But I guess it’d suck if it were some kind of like… Maniac.”

Emile nodded again solemnly. “With great power comes great responsibility,” He said. “In the wise words of Uncle Ben.”

“Sounds like a nice guy,” Remy conceded.

“... It was a reference,” Emile laughed to himself quietly. “Anyways! Thank you, I don’t want to keep you away from your work for too long!”

Remy glanced around the near empty Starbucks. The elderly couple were getting up to leave. “No, it’s okay, you really aren’t. It usually doesn’t get too busy unless it’s like, 3 or 4 o’clock.”

A grin spread across Emile’s face. “Ah! Good thing I usually stay behind a little later then,” He laughed to himself again, looking down and one hand playing with the wires on his earbuds. “Will you be here again tomorrow?”

“All week, babe,” Remy responded.

“Cool! That’s cool,” Emile mentioned that he had a bus to catch soon, and he apologized for not sticking around longer. Remy in response told him not to worry about it, and truth be told he had never met anyone who apologized for not being able to hang out with him more. Most of his friendships had ultimately ended with the other party always slowly but surely trimming him out of their life.

So Remy sat back down on the stool as Emile left the shop, bell jingling to signal his departure. His phone sat forgotten underneath the table as he leaned into the palm of his hand. Remy watched the fluorescent lights of the Starbucks filter into his vision as his glasses slipped further down his nose, raindrops falling against the clear windows allowing him to close his eyes…

As Remy fell into the depths of the ocean, feeling his body catapult deep into an underwater cave, light entered his vision.

The dream ended as soon as it began, and Remy stirred at someone gently shaking him awake. He blinked sleepily from behind his glasses, and he used them to hold back his hair as he looked around in bewilderment. Various objects were hovering in the air surrounding him, a few couple cups, lids, spare change and a Sharpie. The purple glow surrounding them faded as Remy became more aware of his surroundings, and they all dropped to the floor.

“Wha’ time,” Remy mumbled, rubbing his right eye as he looked to the person who woke him up. The lights were way too bright, lines and starbursts nearly blinding him. He put his glasses back on.

“Almost 6,” His coworker responded. He had a disinterested expression on his face as he tied his green apron around his waist. “I’m guessing it wasn’t very busy?”

Remy felt hot all over. He abruptly stood up, the world spinning slightly before everything stabilized. “No, I don’t think so.”

He left before he could hear his coworker’s reply. As soon as he collected his bag from the back room, Remy realized he’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. While this elicited a strong swear from him (mentally), Remy decided not to dwell on it for too long and proceeded to exit the establishment only mildly annoyed with himself.

It wasn’t pouring, but it wasn’t drizzling either. Remy took a deep breath, holding his leather shoulder bag over his head as he lightly jogged towards the bus stop. He was not going to look like an absolute clown sprinting and slipping on a puddle. Or worse, just flat out passing out in the middle of the sidewalk. No ma’am. Not today.

As he rounded the corner however, a familiar stranger sitting on the bus stop’s bench made his jog slow.

This wasn’t a stop with a roof covering the bench, so the boy with pink hair was even more soaked than when he’d come into the shop for the first time. He was holding a mint colored umbrella with his knees, shielding not his head but the yellow notepad he was scribbling furiously on. Remy wondered how he could see with his glasses dripping water down the lenses like that.

“Hey,” Remy announced his arrival, pace slowing to a walk as he approached. Emile jumped at his voice, turning to look at him with wide eyes as his pen finally stopped writing. However, as soon as their gazes met the tension in his shoulders relaxed, and he gave Remy a sheepish smile.

“H-Hello again!” Emile said cheerfully, like he was desperately trying to hide the shaking of his voice. “Gosh, what abhorrent weather, huh?”

“True that,” Remy plopped down on the bench next to him and shifted his bag so it rested on his lap. Raindrops dripped down his dark hair. “Bus never came?”

Emile laughed to himself and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, no it did. Several times probably. I think I got a little carried away…”

Remy glances down at his notepad, filled with lines and lines of tiny text all squished together as to conserve space. He seemed to be almost running out of pages. “You don’t say?”

“I-It was important, so!! I just wanted to take a little extra time-“

“An hour.”

Emile blinked in bewilderment at him. “Excuse me?”

“You left the shop an hour ago,” Remy elaborated.

Emile swiftly checked the time on his (waterproof) watch and groaned loudly. “Ah, dangit, mom’s gonna kill me! … Oh, wait, do you need this?”

Remy stared at him as he scooted closer to him on the bench, putting his notebook back into his bag (it was shaped like a cheeseburger, Remy realized. A really soggy cheeseburger). He lifted his umbrella from between his knees with one hand and held it up over the two of them.

Although, truthfully, it wasn’t working that well. The umbrella only covered Remy’s right side as the left was exposed to the relentless rain, but he still gave a soft thank you regardless.

After a moment’s silence (Remy checked his pocket for his phone, except it wasn’t there. He cursed his forgetful brain for the second time as he now had to settle for staring awkwardly at the cars passing in front of them), Remy opted to speak up.

“... What were you writing?” He asked.

Emile gave a noncommittal shrug, shifting the umbrella so that it was covering Remy more. Remy frowned at this, pushing Emile’s hand back to where it was hovering between the two of them.

“It’s kind of dumb-,” Emile cut himself off with a sneeze.

“Bless you,”

“Tha-”

“And nah, I’m sure it isn’t,” Remy reassured him. “Anything that makes a guy stay outside in the rain for an extra hour probably isn’t that dumb.”

It seemed as though this was enough for Emile’s expression to brighten, and he immediately sat straight up on the bench while unknowingly bumping Remy in the glasses with his umbrella. “Well!! If you must know,” Emile began. “I actually write just a teensy, weensy bit,”

He emphasized this with a pinch of his fingers before he leaned backwards on his free arm. “Basically, I thought of this idea where a girl named Elizabeth gains the ability to travel through different dimensions as a result of her ingesting some bad salmon! On her journey, she meets a cute girl who, plot twist, is actually a fish! And then, they’d both get married in a meadow on another dimension’s Mars, and she’d have salmon as a part of the catering on their wedding day which is where Fish-Girl, horrified, would be disgusted with Elizabeth due to the very notion of consuming salmon because of her ancestors, who-”

Emile took a deep breath of air, red coloring his cheeks as Remy tried to retain the information that had just been spilled out in front of him. Elizabeth was a constant, there was a fish in there somewhere, multiverse…

“Elizabeth doesn’t know she’s a salmon,” Remy asked.

“Well, actually, salmon isn’t a specific type of fish. It encompasses a wide variety of them (I read that once on Buzzfeed), and no, that revelation comes in the second act,” Emile pushed up his glasses. “It’s kind of a metaphor on how you may not know your partner as well as you do, and the value one should place on communication in a relationship.”

It seemed as though pure, unadulterated happiness was radiating off the boy next to him, and it took everything within Remy to keep his smirk at bay. Emile seemed content, despite him sniffing occasionally (because of the rain) and his fingers twitching (because of the cold) as he played with the sleeve of his cardigan.

“It’s okay if you didn’t follow that,” Emile laughed hollowly, tone suddenly turning self deprecating. “I know my words are ah, kinda a handful! To keep track of that is.”

“I don’t follow anything anyone says,” Remy blurted out. “Like, ever. So it’s cool.” Emile blinked, opening his mouth to respond before a bus suddenly pulled up in front of them as though it materialized out of the raindrops. It wasn’t Remy’s bus, but Emile stood up from the bench and tugged his school bag over his shoulders.

“Oh! Here, you can have this!” Emile exclaimed abruptly. He jerkily shoved the umbrella towards Remy, who only stared at him for a few moments in bewilderment.

“Uh, what?” Remy said dumbly.

“You can have it! I’ll just tell my mom I lost it,” Emile looked off to the side, rain cascading down his face in rivulets. Remy thought he looked like he desperately needed it more than he did. “I-It’s as thank you! For talking to me.”

Remy began, “I don’t really need it-” He was cut off by Emile all but throwing the umbrella towards him as the bus driver honked loudly.

“I’lltakeitbackfromyoutomorrowbye!” Emile sprinted up the steps of the bus and Remy was left fumbling to gain a grip on the mint colored accessory, it clattering to the ground as the bus pulled away.

Remy stretched out his cold, numb fingers towards the umbrella. Upon closer examination, there was a little tag that looked suspiciously like a yellow Post-It note stuck to the inside with clear tape, the words “Emile Picani! =)” scrawled across it in barely legible handwriting.

Ah… There was an extra ‘e’ at the end of ‘Emile’. He’d keep that in mind for next time.

Remy’s head slammed against the underside of the countertop when he woke, and he let out a hiss of pain as he dropped back to the floor again. His glasses, hovering in the air in front of him, promptly fell onto his face and proceeded to clatter to the floor. A couple other items followed suit, including but not limited to: An old Sharpie, some spare change, and Emile’s umbrella.

“Good morning,” A voice called curtly. Remy, not moving from his spot on the floor, turned towards the darkness under the countertop and let out a groan.

“Oh, don’t even right now, Ethan.”

Ethan shrugged, slipping off of (Remy’s) barstool easily. He stepped towards Remy, crouching down and picking up the umbrella. “Didn’t peg you for a teal kinda guy,” Ethan said, turning it over in his hands.

Remy snapped his attention to Emile’s umbrella, and hastily began trying to scramble to his knees. “P-Put that down, man” He huffed, gripping the edge of the countertop as the world spun around him. Ugh, he got up too quick. “That isn’t mine.”

A frown appeared on Ethan’s face. “You… Stole it…?”

“No I- I didn’t,” Remy wobbled over to Ethan, grateful for the fact the only customer in at the moment being the same college student from yesterday. With a quick hand that totally wasn’t shaking at all, he snatched the umbrella from his hands with a scowl.

His scowl, however, quickly softened into an expression of anxiousness. He bit his lip as he leaned against the counter. “Hey, you didn’t see a guy with pink hair come in here, by any chance?”

Ethan shrugged. “I just got here. They totally shouldn’t give me more hours for the afternoon when the only guy working here keeps passing ou-”

“Ah ah ah!” Remy jabbed the end of the umbrella at Ethan’s shoulder. He let out an offended hiss in response. “That’s enough outta you, sis.”

As though he hadn’t just assaulted his coworker, Remy continued, “He had pink hair and glasses,” Remy explained this by making circles in front of his eyes to imitate glasses, as though he wasn’t already wearing a pair. “And his school bag was, like, a burger or something. He-”

“By any chance was his name Emile?” Ethan interrupted.

Blinking, Remy nodded. “Wow, that was easy.”

“Yeah, he totally blends in at school,” Ethan said bluntly. “Like, I barely ever notice him.”

“Really?”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Whatever, just,” Remy, exasperated, shoved the umbrella towards him. “Give this to him, please? He was supposed to come in today but I think I missed him.”

Ethan eyed him warily before saying, “He wasn’t at school today, so I’m guessing he probably didn’t come in anyways,” Although he took the umbrella from Remy regardless.

A sudden pang of concern hit Remy as he recalled the boy’s creative episode in the rain the day prior. Maybe he should have thrown the umbrella back at him (Wait, no, it would’ve just hit the bus instead…).

“Does he skip a lot?” Remy asked, trying not to let the worry show from behind his glasses.

Ethan kept feeling at the handle of the umbrella, like rubbing it was going to unearth some ancient rune that he needed to discover. “Hm… I don’t think so. He cares a lot about his grades, definitely,” Ethan, smile suddenly appearing on his face, turned the umbrella once more. “Wow, this is bumpy.”

“... Alright I’m gonna go now,” Remy said, walking into the back room. “Make sure he gets it.” He added, only slightly threatening. “Like, seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Ethan mumbled. His attention was diverted from the umbrella to a customer walking into the store, his voice fading into the background as Remy walked, “Hi, how may I help you…”

Remy shook his head, pushing open the door to the back room. Well, it wasn’t like Ethan was totally untrustworthy or anything.

The next day it was raining again (Because of course it was, it was Florida), but Remy was, surprisingly, not fast asleep when Ethan walked in for his shift.

The first thing he noticed was the mint umbrella in his hand, and Remy’s neutral expression very quickly turned into a frown.

“Hey-”

“He said I could keep it,” Ethan explained cryptically.

“He what-” Remy, who had been busy questioning Ethan’s moral integrity all day already, tried not to scream as his coworker briskly entered the back room to deposit his things. Because his mind was already going to the very imperative questions of Well, why didn’t he come in today? Didn’t he give me the umbrella? Am I being #clingy right now?

“Also, he had to monitor for a teacher after school for parent teacher conference, so he couldn’t come today.” Ethan emerged from the back room, in the middle of tying his apron around his waist. “He told me to tell you that.”

“Are you two friends or something?”

Ethan moved to the register after tying his apron and pulled out his phone. “Eh… We just have Latin together.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He already has a bunch of them, so I’m sure he’s fine without me.”

For some reason that statement made a knot twist in Remy’s stomach, but he ignored it. Because jealousy was not a good look, and Remy would not be caught dead looking so desperate for friendship he saw in a dude he’d only known for one day.

So he made himself a coffee (so that he wouldn’t fall asleep waiting for the bus) and ended his shift. He glanced back at Ethan as he neared the front door, still toying with the umbrella handle under the counter while on his phone, and realized that he’d once again forgotten his umbrella at home.

Emile came back in for a black coffee. Remy spelled his name correctly.

They talked briefly, Remy questioning his decision on the umbrella, and Emile just gave that same nervous laugh. He was wearing a sweater today, with a cartoon cat on it shaped like a cookie.

“He seemed to like it a lot, so I thought I’d give it to him!” Emile heaved his backpack up so that it rested more comfortably on his shoulders, smiling so brightly at Remy he felt like he needed to put his glasses back on. “I didn’t know you two worked together!”

Remy smiled. “Small world.”

He couldn’t stay for long this time, because he was going to be hanging out with his friends, Remy learned. They were going to be studying for a test together at the library, which didn’t sound that fun to Remy, but Emile seemed rather ecstatic about the whole thing.

Before he left the shop, Emile paused at the front door and turned his head around. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! I was working on the story again yesterday: Elizabeth and Ella (her girlfriend) make up afterwards! But the story leaves off at a cliffhanger when a meteor strikes the wedding reception. Whether or not it was premeditated is still to be determined.”

Remy took a long sip of his coffee as Emile was talking. “Love that for them.”

Emile grinned, pushing up his glasses and waving as he exited the coffee shop. Remy decided to begin wiping down the counter while waiting for his shift to end.

“You haven’t seen Steven Universe?!”

Remy picked at the inside of his ear with a pinky finger. “I mean. I’ve probably seen like, half of an episode. Or something.”

“Ohmygosh, you have to watch it-” Emile abruptly cut himself off, realization dawning on his face. A wide grin spread across his blank expression, and he pulled the hem of his sweater down to gesture at it.

“Look! Remy, this is Steven Universe!” Emile animatedly went through the effort of pointing each colorful character out on his sweater, going as far as to explain their faults, character arcs, backstories…

“I like this one,” Remy said as Emile was taking a breath, and pointed at a girl in large comical glasses. “She looks pretty cool.”

“That’s Connie,” Emile continued, Despite him being in the middle of explaining… One of the colorful ones before Remy interjected. “She’s very inquisitive yet cautious, and I think one of the most interesting traits about her is her feelings of loneliness.”

Remy quirked an eyebrow at him, absently rubbing the countertop with a cloth. “She doesn’t look very lonely here,” He said, poking at the character on his shirt. She was grinning with her eyebrows set in a determined expression. Also she was carrying a huge sword.

“Well, due to her father’s job, there is a lot of instability in her life,” Emile elaborated, leaning forwards so that his elbows were on the counter and a hand was propping his chin up. “Simply put, her family moves around a lot, and thus she finds it difficult to hold onto friendships.”

“That’s… Kind of depressing,” Remy said, an odd knot of sympathy forming in his throat. “For a kids show.”

“Well, I guess, but it’s just so… So frickin cool how realistic that is,” He sighed dreamily, and he let his head rest on his forearm instead of his elbow. “Gosh, I love cartoons! Do you have a favorite show, um…”

Emile blinked at him owlishly, straightening up. “Wait, I don’t know your name.”

“Oh.” Was Remy’s only response to that.

“Gosh, that’s so rude of me!” Emile squeaked, the onset of embarrassment on his face so fast that Remy almost had whiplash witnessing it. “I-It must have slipped my mind! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Remy said with a smirk. “I was just worried you’d never forget it if I told you.”

“Don’t keep me in the dark any longer!” Emile gasped, leaning forwards suddenly. “What’s your name? Or I’ll just keep referring you to as ‘Starbucks Guy’ in my head.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It could be.”

After a drawn out pause as Remy sipped his iced coffee, he responded with a simple, “Remy.”

Emile stared at him for a moment, before a squeal escaped his mouth and he clamped his hands over his lips. “Li-Like from Ratatouille!! Remy and Emile, oh my god!!” He exclaimed loudly. A woman on the phone in the corner of the establishment sent him an odd look that Emile didn’t notice.

“Like… From France…?”

“Ratatouille!” Emile repeated. “Please tell me you’ve seen Ratatouille.”

Remy took a guilty sip from his coffee. “It’s probably a TV show?”

“It’s a Pixar movie,” Emile took out his phone and typed something into Google (He didn’t have a passcode it seemed) and showed him various pictures of a 3D cartoon mouse. In a chefs hat.

“Wow, she’s cute,” Remy deadpanned. “Glad that reminds you of me.”

“He’s great! It’s a great movie!” Emile smiled despite the sardonic slight. “You should watch it sometime! Oh, you have Netflix, right? It’s probably there.”

“Totally,” Remy lied.

“Awesome! Um…” With his gaze stuck on his phone, Emile trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A look of horror then struck his face, and he immediately shoved his phone in his pocket. “Shoot! I was supposed to meet up with them like thirty minutes ago! Ah-”

Emile gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry I can’t stay for much longer, I’ll see you on Monday, though!”

“Why Mon-” Oh, yeah, the school week ended on Friday. “Yeah… Yeah I’ll see you then.”

Emile waved as he bolted out of the Starbucks, and Remy all but sagged onto the countertop, glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose as he glared at a speck of dust in his peripheral vision.

He probably should have asked for his number… Or was it too soon for that? Ah, whatever.

One nap, his boss yelling at him for it, and an hour later, Remy had officially clocked out. He didn’t have much else to do for the night, since he had finished his homework the day prior, so Remy settled for the grim reality of going home to watch a rerun of The Office before he inevitably fell asleep halfway through the episode.

On the way to his bus stop, there was a bridge he had to walk past. It laid across the polluted river, shitty paint job and all. Graffiti consistently covered the underside of it (somehow), and Remy never spared a second glance towards it.

Well, the reason why this insignificant, minute detail in his own insignificant, minute life was suddenly relevant was due to the head of pink hair on the bridge.

It was a group of about five people, including Emile. His bright, pastel colored sweater was tinted to a pretty shade of dark periwinkle due to the sunset over the bridge. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the group of individuals wearing mostly earthy, warm colors.

Remy catapulted himself behind a building, sticking his body up against it and digging out his phone. He was just going to check Instagram really quick. He definitely wasn’t eavesdropping, nope.

“... ile, isn’t that show like, for little kids?” A voice drifted from over the bridge. Remy adjusted his sunglasses. This was stupid. He should just keep walking. Pathetic how attached he grew to one person even after knowing them for a grand total of three days at most.

“Well,” Emile’s voice was loud. There was a cartoonish quality to it that Remy couldn’t place, maybe it was the way he said his e’s. It might’ve been an accent, but Remy could not place which one for the life of him. Despite this, his voice didn’t seem to carry as much authority as the speaker prior. “I just thought it was fun, I guess.”

A bubble of bitterness welled up in his throat at Emile’s tone, because it was softer than when he had spoken to him at the bus stop. Like he wasn’t using it to its full potential.

Whatever, Remy conceded he’d leave it alone. This was kind of bad, wasn’t it? To be eavesdropping like this. #Clingy! Blared in his mind as he walked slowly away from the scene, towards his bus stop.

“That’s weird, Emile,” Another speaker said. “Don’t you watch any, like, real shows?”

“... I don’t really watch that much TV.”

Remy awoke with a start, much like he always did. Though this time he was floating above the ground, drool pooling in a puddle on the countertop.

The barstool clattered to the ground as Remy scrambled to get a grip on the countertop before he fell off of it. He heard snickering, and whipped his head around to glare at Ethan.

“Your shift’s over, princess,” Ethan said. He sprayed whipped cream into his mouth, setting it back down before his attention returned to his phone once again. Remy sighed, rubbing his still groggy head before clocking out for the day.

The sky was clear, though there were a gaggle of looming rainclouds near the horizon. Remy didn’t mind, however, since he found the sunset was freaking gorgeous today. Definitely Instagram-worthy.

So he decided to take a picture of it before heading to the bus stop. Who knew when he’d get another opportunity like this, especially since it was rainy season. Maybe the bridge would be a nice photo-op?

As he passed by the old, graffiti-littered bridge, Remy’s steps slowed.

It was Emile again. While Remy didn’t find it odd to witness highschool students being outside during the weekends, the odd thing about this was that Emile was completely alone.

He had an elbow on the railing of the bridge, propping up his chin in a way that he looked almost serene, gazing out over the polluted water. The oranges and angry yellows of the sun made his beige cardigan look more like a deep red-brown.

Remy’s hand lingered over his hand. This was probably the most perfect photo he could ever imagine for his Instagram, but of course he wasn’t going to take a picture of someone just standing there. That would be weird, right? Should he forget about this now? Go up to Emile and talk to him? The lack of an expression on his face didn’t suit him well, Remy noticed.

In his other hand, hanging by his side, was the yellow notebook Remy had witnessed him writing into many days ago.

As Remy continued debating whether or not he should go up to him, Emile had shifted his position. He was walking backwards from the railing, face set in a determined grimace. His grip tightened on the notebook so much that his fingers were smudging the ink and the pages were wrinkling in his grasp. He seemed to be psyching himself up for something, clenching and unclenching his fingers as he kept his gaze on the water in front of the bridge.

Then he swung his hand back, and flung the notebook into the river.

Similar to how people, quote on quote, had their lives flashing before their eyes upon their deathbed, Remy only saw his friends. Or lack thereof. The empty birthday parties, the pitying stares from other students, a teacher extending a hand to him as he laid asleep on the floor…

And it was probably then that he realized he hated being alone. The feeling clawed inside of him like a vice, and yet he could never seem to hold onto anyone before they faded away from his life. He didn’t want to feel that way again.

He felt his feet moving before his mind could wrap itself around the situation. It was like a primal instinct had taken over, and suddenly Remy was vaulting over the railing with a strength he never knew he possessed, extending a hand towards the yellow pages that were half submerged into the water.

And as he let the notebook float gently into the air, his familiar purple aura surrounding it, Remy felt his knees give way.

A mute scream bubbled from his throat as his grip slacked on the railing, body falling into the water despite his mind yelling at him to move, to regroup, to do something-

A rush of cold water hit him like a ton of bricks, and Remy felt dizzy as all the breath from his lungs left him despite himself. He felt the familiar haze of sleep cloud his mind, and he thought ruefully that he had never fallen asleep in a river before…

As his vision went darker and bubbles filled it, he saw the stream of light from the sunset, a soda can surrounded by purple float to the top of the river, and there was something pink coming towards him… He was fading, fading...

Emile Picani watched as the Starbucks barista, the one who always knew to get him a black coffee, vaulted over the railing of the bridge. He watched as his powers made his notepad levitate into the air, and watched as the barista’s legs seemed to freeze up, hold on the railing slacking all of a sudden. And he watched as he plummeted into the polluted river, notepad still floating with a pretty spark of purple surrounding it despite it all.

He was stunned! Flabbergasted, floored, er… He didn’t really know what to do. Emile was still standing and staring at where the man had disappeared under the water… And he wasn’t floating back to the surface… Oh no-

Things suddenly started shooting to the surface, a soda can, old shoes, a couple fish and a hair dryer. That was probably what spurred Emile to lurch himself over the railing as well to dive into the water.

It was murky and hard to see- And oh god why was everything brown?! Emile resisted the urge to gag as his heart raced, eyes squinting to make out anything in the water atop the bubbles escaping his nose. There were still things rising to the top of the water, a phone, a ring of keys, glasses…

Emile’s eyes focused on a hazy blob of darkness lying on the river floor, and he quickly shot his hands out to grab at it. By now he was very quickly running out of air, and it didn’t seem like Starbucks was going to wake up at any point either. So Emile gathered as much of the man’s jacket as he could in his hands, panic pooling within his stomach as he felt a large amount of air leave his nose through bubbles.

Okay, okay, it’s fine, this is fine, fine and dandy, Emile heard his voice scream inside of his head. He tried not to gasp at the darkness fluttering in and out of his vision, trying to kick his way back to the top of the river. But his movements were growing sluggish, and everything was suddenly covered in a haze that wasn’t there before. And Emile was sinking, sinking…

Floating…?

He felt a light feeling overwhelm him, and looked down to see his hands surrounded in a purple aura. Was Remy… Doing this?

Emile’s hands were in a death grip on Remy’s jacket, squeezing his eyes shut as his body was shooting to the top. Bubbles were escaping his mouth, but soon enough, his head broke the surface and he was gasping for air.

Sweet, sweet oxygen invaded his lungs and Emile allowed himself to cough up the water he had accidentally swallowed while resurfacing. His attention snapped to Remy, still submerged in the river and he quickly brought the other boy up to the surface while trying to kick to shore at the same time.

As the effects of Remy’s powers wore off, Emile had gradually reached the shore. He all but threw Starbucks onto the shore, and laid himself down next to the sleeping barista atop crushed soda cans and sharp plastic. His arms felt like they were on fire, and his heart wouldn’t stop beating like he was running from a known serial killer… Man, maybe he should start working out more.

Then, Emile’s attention refocused onto the matter at hand… Oh god, Remy probably swallowed a gallon of dirty river water or something. Emile quickly scrambled to his side, looming over him as he surveyed the condition of the unconscious teenager. Would he have to perform CPR? Oh no, Emile wasn’t qualified to do that!! Maybe if he looked it up on Google he’d have a better understanding- Oh, but he’d lost his phone in the river…

As soon as the feeling of helplessness welled up inside of him, it popped like a bubble. Remy’s eyes cracked open, squinting against the harsh rays of the sunset. His fingers twitched as he tried to sit up.

“Wh-” Remy began, voice hoarse, but as soon as he started his face turned a sickly shade of green and he turned his head to vomit up river water. Emile kindly looked away from the scene, grimace present on his face. “Um,” Emile started, but a strange feeling overwhelmed him, made his eyes water and the back of his throat burn. He’d realized that most of what happened was mostly because of him, and his little stunt back on the bridge. If he hadn’t been so stupid, Remy wouldn’t have…

“I’m sorry,” Emile couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks, and he was pointedly looking away from Remy as well. “I-I, oh gosh,” He mumbled wiping at them with the sleeves of his cardigan despite them also being soaking wet.

As Remy opened his mouth to respond, another torrent of river water escaped him and onto the shore. He held out a hand, motioning for Emile to wait a second and spoke after vomiting.

“Do-Don’t apologize,” Remy muttered, wiping his mouth sheepishly. “I think I dropped it anyways. Your notebook.”

All that statement did was make him cry even harder, and he curled in on himself, hugging his knees and burying his head in them. He tried saying that he didn’t care, it really didn’t matter to him, because the fact of the matter was that his actions nearly caused another human being to die. Not only that, it was Remy, someone who had been nothing but kind to him through the brief interactions they’d shared together.

Remy was patting him awkwardly on the back. “Sor-Sorry, yi-yikes, it’s kind of cold out, huh?” He said, laughing.

Emile didn’t respond, and Remy opted to draw his hand away from Emile to sit cross legged on the shore line. He reached down to extract a soggy piece of paper from one of his leather boots.

“So… I kind of fall asleep sometimes,” Remy blurted out suddenly. Emile blinked at him, furrowing his eyebrows in questioning. “Like, it’s really random.”

“Huh,” Emile said. “That’s why you-”

“Yeah. Um,” Remy scratched the back of his head. “It gets really strong when I fall asleep. My powers, I mean. I’m usually not strong enough to lift people or anything.”

Emile thought back to when he was surrounded in a purple aura, the feeling of weightlessness as he floated to the top of the river despite him sinking just a moment before… “Ah.”

“Sorry if that’s weird,” Remy laughed bitterly. “But I just thought I should tell you ‘cause… You know.”

He didn’t know, but Emile suddenly wondered what Remy’s life must have been like living with a condition like that. He wondered if he had a hard time connecting with other people too, he wondered if he was lonely too.

“It-It’s not,” Emile remedied. “I mean, kinda but I don’t care… You’re great, I-I just don’t know why you… Did that.”

He wondered if it was the lighting or if Remy’s face had grown red. “I just… I know it means a lot to you,” He answered. “And don’t give me that crap and pretend it doesn’t matter. I know it does.”

Emile tried to pretend like that statement didn’t make a new wall of tears well up in his eyes. “Y-Yeah,” He whispered, hugging his knees closer to his chest. “It does.”

So they sat together on the shoreline, Emile trying to ignore the chill that came with a gust of wind. Looking up at the sky above, Emile wondered if there would ever come a day where he’d make a friend that he could show his writing to without the debilitating anxiety that came with being judged. Maybe a friend he could watch cartoons with without them asking to change the channel to something like a reality show instead. He wanted someone who would spend time with him that didn’t come at the expense of having to do a project together for AP English.

Then he looked over at the barista, staring blankly out at the water, dark hair plastered unflatteringly to his forehead while squinting. Was it too bright? Was that why he wore sunglasses indoors too? It seemed like Emile was learning something new about him every time they interacted.

A hopeful feeling ignited in his chest, and Emile wished that he could learn more about Remy with time.

“This is my number!”

Remy quirked an eyebrow as he took the post-it note. “Uh-”

“I lost my phone because of, you know,” Emile waved his hand vaguely, but Remy already knew the incident he was talking about. “So I had to get a new one.”

“... Thanks,” Remy said. He furiously engraved it into his skull to remember to text Emile, because he’d probably never forgive himself if he forgot. “I’ll text you after my shift’s over.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Emile said flippantly. “I just wanted to say thanks for the other day… I was kind of- heh, kind of a wreck! Emotionally, haha.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Remy thumbed over the new cracks on his phone- He referred to them as battle scars in his mind though. “I’d nearly drown in a shit-filled river anytime for you, babe.”

Although he was kind of joking, Remy was delighted to see a nervous smile on Emile’s face. Much better than tears for sure.

“Haha!! Um, I uh, hah,” Emile squeaked, putting a hand to his red face. “Gosh, it feels like Agrab- You probably don’t know what that is! Haha!! Anyways!”

He unceremoniously dumped a shoddily wrapped parcel onto the table. The wrapper was a repeating pattern of cartoon characters he didn’t recognize.

“It’s the Loud House! Okay, uh, happy Saint Patrick’s day, bye!”

With that, as soon as he came he was gone. Remy watched mutely as Emile bolted out of the shop, though not before nearly tackling an older gentleman making his way in and apologizing to him profusely as he colorfully swore at the retreating teenager. A genuine snicker left his mouth, and he looked down at the gift in his hands.

He’d open it after his shift ended, Remy decided. Using his powers, he levitated it so that it rested underneath the counter, hidden from view. Remy smiled at the older guy and adjusted his glasses.

“How may I help you?”

#remy sanders #sleep sanders #emile picani #dr emile picani #remile #remy x emile #sanders sides #thomas sanders #cartoon therapy #sanders shorts #deceit sanders #he's in this for like 2 scenes lmfao sorry my boy #writes

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cottonblush · 6 years ago

Text

blooming days | pjs

❧ word count: 3,418

❧ genre: floof

❧ notes: i kinda hate this?? but it’s whatever. i’ll be working on more bulleted list scenarios soon (hopefully lmao). i have my ap stats test tomorrow and i literally feel like i’ll get a 1 even though i got 5s on my practice tests but imma go crazy anyway. also i started bujo-ing my ideas for my fics and i have these cute stickers that remind me of hamtaro!! anyway, i hope everyone has a nice day and is happy and healthy. don’t forget to drink lots of water. i actually started drinking it more often and i feel a lot better! ty for coming to my ted talk! if anyone has any upcoming exams, good luck! uh also p.s: i probably spelled some stuff wrong but several of my reference sites were saying different things. p.p.s: this is unedited whoops

❧ parts: planting, budding, ---

The bustling sounds of the city slowly fade into background noise as Jisung finds his way back home after work, one foot slowly being placed in front of the other to form a peaceful saunter. He stops when he reaches an intersection not too far away from his street, eyes coming to rest on the soft glow of the neon sign that the neighborhood ramen shop has recently added. The light emanating from the quaint little restaurant is one of the few light sources that dots the street this late on a cold, wintry night as this one.

“It won’t hurt to get some on the way,” the boy mutters to himself, already stepping into the small, warmly lit restaurant, as if he would have needed any convincing in the first place.

He’s greeted by the familiar face of the ahjussi who owns the place. Eyes quickly scanning over the menu, he settles on the newest item that the store has to offer: fire noodles. He tells the older man what he would like, figuring it’ll be just like the processed noodles sold at the store he works at, before he strolls over to his usual seat by the window.

The young man turns around to resume people-watching the many teens and adults getting home at this time as well, releasing a soft sigh, placing his head in his left hand, and drumming his fingers against the soft skin of his face. The sun is setting, the last rays of marmalade tinted light streaming through the window. Jisung takes this time to remind himself that this is the part where Jaemin would tell him to take a selfie and get that “golden hour glow.” He almost does, but at that moment, a bowl of steaming noodles covered in a glistening, ruby colored sauce is placed in front of him.

The owner warily says when he finally comes around with the noodles, “It’s pretty spicy, just so you know.” However, Jisung brushes this off, telling the gentleman that he’s used to spicy food, and digs in, enjoying the familiar tingling feeling on his tongue that fire noodles tend to bring. The wet, pink muscle peaks out of his mouth and lap up any sauce that happens to escape.

After a while, the dull tingling turns into a burning sting all over Jisung’s mouth and salty tears start to well up in his eyes. Before he knows it, Jisung is full-on crying with ears full of the sounds of his own sniffles and doesn’t even notice the old lady that comes up to sit next to him.

The woman looks to be in her upper 60’s and when she gently pats Jisung’s shoulder to provide a sense of comfort, he recognizes her as the owner of the flower shop just next door. She rests her chin in her other hand and lets out a dreamy sigh. “Ah, I remember the feeling of young love,” she says.

This makes the young man turn to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. He tries to explain, tone flustered and face quickly turning a bright shade of red, “I think you’re misunderstanding the situation. I’m not in-”

“Nonsense,” she replies, “I know just by the look on your face. You were thinking about someone special, weren’t you? And you were looking at those pretty gardenias in that vase. Everyone knows that’s the symbol for a secret love. Have you not told them yet? I think it’s best to just rip off the band-aid and get it over with, in my experience at least.”

Jisung wants to tell the lady that kids don’t just memorize the meanings of flowers, but he thinks that one: that might discourage her seeing as she runs a flower shop and seems to care a lot about it, and two: it’s a little rude. Instead, he puts on a calm façade and reassures her, “There really has been a misunderstanding here. I wasn’t really looking at those flowers on purpose. And I just ate some spicy noodles, so it looked like I was crying.”

The old lady slowly gets up and hums, “Whatever you say,” before going to place her own order. Jisung takes this as his queue to leave and gathers his things. Just before he places a hand on the door, he takes one last glance at the little flowers in the clear vase, wondering if maybe the lady is on to something.

It clearly sticks with him because later that night as he lays in his bed, covers pulled up and lights turned off, Jisung can’t seem to take his mind off the pretty white blossoms. For some reason, your face comes to mind, unknowingly bringing a small smile to his visage. His eyes slowly flutter shut, little memories of you playing against the back of his lids as if he’s in a dark movie theater watching a montage of the two of you.

Halloween is quickly approaching, now less than a week away, and the gang (Jisung, you, Chenle, Haechan, and Renjun) has decided to get some pumpkins from a farm not too far away from town. As soon as you arrive, you and Haechan run ahead of the others, both trying to find the perfect pumpkin.

Jisung, on the other hand, chooses to take his time, leisurely walking alongside Chenle and Renjun as they discuss something about Chinese traditions around this time of the year. The leaves started to fall the week before, so for each step that Jisung takes, he hears a satisfying crunch beneath his shoes. The weather is still fairly pleasant, not yet to the point where you can see your breath in the air.

Sauntering through the gates to the pumpkin patch, the kids are greeted by the sight of rows upon rows of vibrant orange pumpkins, some small and cute, others larger and optimal for carving. Not even a couple of minutes in, everyone hears a high pitched yelp and looks over to find that Chenle has managed to trip on literally nothing but air, ending up face down on the ground and crushing several mini pumpkins beneath him. Renjun can’t help but snicker, leaving Jisung to help the poor, pouting boy back up to his feet.

Jisung is in the middle of helping Chenle wipe pumpkin guts off his shirt (that’s probably worth more than all of his life savings) when he notices you and Haechan bickering out of the corner of his eye.

“Dude, I totally saw it first,” you argue.

Haechan deadpans and says, “Sure, Y/n. And I’m actually Thor from The Avengers.”

You don’t hesitate to scoff at that and say, “More like Loki.”

The two of you are in your own world, not even noticing that Jisung, Renjun, and a now clean Chenle are sitting on the ground and acting like they’re watching the final showdown in an action movie.

Haechan picks up the pumpkin you two are fighting over, one of the largest in the patch that has no blemishes at all, and sets it behind him so that he can guard it. It turns out to be the wrong move because without a moment of hesitation, you launch a roundhouse kick into his side, watching as he flails on his way down to the ground. You quickly grab the prized pumpkin and run toward the owner of the farm.

Your voice is boisterous and full of glee as you call out, “Excuse me, sir. I’d like this one!” The sound of your laugh follows soon after when you see that Haechan is hot on your tail.

It’s cheesy, but as you get farther and farther away, Jisung tries to imprint the sound your laughter into his mind, wanting to save it for whenever he is feeling down.

II.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you get yourself in these situations, Y/n,” Renjun says, mirth lacing his voice as he wraps a bandage around your ankle. You’re slouched on a stool in the nurse’s office, leaning forward so you can observe the blonde-haired boy.

Renjun is the nurse’s assistant, which means that he sees you quite often given how clumsy you are. This time, you’ve managed to twist your ankle simply walking from your class to Jisu’s so you could compare grades on a recent test. Jisung happens to be there when it happens, so he helps you over to the nurse’s office and sits next to you, carefully doting over you until Renjun arrives.

You huff and cross your arms, rebutting, “Give me a break! I’m telling you one of the tiles in the hallway is uneven. I’m not that clumsy that I just trip over the air.”

At this, Renjun coughs into his elbow, muttering, “Yes you are.”

Jisung can’t deny that he feels a little twinge of something as he sees you playfully slap Renjun’s shoulder and give him a hearty laugh. He tries to laugh along, but it turns out to be an awkward chuckle.

Renjun turns to him with lips quirked upward and says, “Dude, you don’t even know how often she comes here. I’m surprised she’s not just a pile of bones at this point.”

Feeling plenty attacked, you say, “That’s it! I’m telling the administration that the literal nurse’s assistant is out here bullying me. And next time, I’ll just suffer on my own instead of coming to you.”

When the aforementioned assistant raises his hand to pinch your cheek and tell you to stop pouting, Jisung is finally able to identify the feeling bubbling up in the pit of his stomach: envy.

III.

It’s probably well past midnight and Jisung has just fallen asleep. The sound of crickets chirping flows through the tiny opening of the window he forgot to close. His desk lamp is still on and the fan of his laptop is still softly humming. He’s woken up with a startle when the sound of his ringtone (which Chenle had recently set to the original Pokémon theme song in honor of the new movie) blares out, reverbing against the walls of his small bedroom. He’s about to throw his phone out the window when he squints at the screen and notices that it’s you and it’s a facetime video call.

The video is blurry at first, but the sound of your voice as his name falls from your lips in a shaky sigh is surprisingly clear. You aren’t crying, but every now and then, you let out a tiny sniffle. In addition, even with the low resolution of the video call, Jisung can see salty tears pooling up against your eyelids.

“I’m so nervous, Jisung,” you say shakily, “I don’t know what to do.”

Your phone is propped up against your wall or something on your desk, so the teen gets a full view of you as you drop your face in your hands and rub your eyes aggressively.

Jisung urges you to calm down, asking what’s wrong but being careful not to be too pushy. You explain that you feel like you’re going to fail the upcoming history test.

“I’ve tried to study, but everything is just going in one ear and out the other,” you explain.

The young man assures you that you’ll be fine, but when you shake your head and vehemently deny it, he tries a different approach. Giving you a couple of minutes to calm down, he offers to help you review for it.

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, carefully explaining each topic covered in class and making sure you’re paying attention. By the time you’ve covered the entire chapter, you’re resting your chin on your arm and gazing sleepily at your phone screen. After you’ve let out what Jisung thinks is your thousandth yawn, he tells you it’s time to sleep.

He packs away his notes and textbooks and is about to bid you goodnight when he notices that you’ve fallen asleep already. He freezes in his place, eyes not able to move from the way that your eyelashes gently fan against your cheeks and the way that several strands of hair have fallen to cover your face. He notices the heavy, dark eyebags that surround your eyes and the small amount of drool that’s already starting to escape your mouth.

Jisung quickly snaps out of his daze and presses the red button that ends the call, sitting back against his desk chair and closing his eyes. He’s much too tired to move to his bed and is probably bordering on a state of delirium, but he realizes that your face, no matter how sloppy or tired, is a sight he could get lost in any day at any time. And with that revelation, his mind descends into sleep while a soft smile rests on his lips.

IV.

Jisung is stuffing his face with cheesy tteokbokki when his phone lights up with a several new notifications.

The first one is an email from his teacher, probably a response to a question he asked the day before. The second is a reminder that he has an appointment to get a haircut in a few days. And the most recent is a snapchat notification telling him that you’ve sent him a snap.

He sets down his utensils and picks up his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the app. Tapping on your name with the red square next to it, he’s greeted with a picture of you with a small white puppy tucked under your chin.

The caption of the picture reads, “Moomin is doing great but he misses you :(”

To add some context, Moomin is a the stray dog that you, Jisung, and Renjun found one day on the way back after school. Of course, since Renjun “found him first,” he argued that he would get to pick a name.

Not even thinking about it, Jisung takes a screenshot of the picture, heart melting just a little bit at the sight of your smiling face pressed up against Moomin. But then the ten second timer expires and he’s greeted with the sight of two blue arrows, one overlapping the other. He drops his phone and covers his face with his hands, fingers split so that he could peep at his phone. He gets a text message from you not a moment later and he thinks he’s about to get exposed. His whole form is shaking with nervousness as he checks your text.

However, Jisung literally wants to bang his head on a wall as he sees that you’ve just sent him a picture of Moomin (this time without your face in the frame) and a message that reads, “If u wanted a pic of moomin so bad you should’ve just asked lol”

Only the gods will ever know how you can be so oblivious at times, but Jisung is glad. Now, he has a cute picture of you and a cute picture of Moomin, and he’s saved himself a ton of embarrassment. He also isn’t complaining because he finds it quite endearing when you’re dense (which happens a lot).

“Jeno, have I mentioned that you and Hana would look really good together? And she’s super smart just like you!”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you should totally ask her out or something.”

It’s another regular day, and another occasion on with you are trying to set Jeno up with one of your many friends that are head over heels for the poor boy.

“I’m not really interested in her, though. Sorry, Y/n,” Jeno says awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck.

“You haven’t even given her a chance though,” you say, knowing that you’re beginning to sound childish.

At this moment, Chenle and Jisung run up to the two of you, asking what’s up.

You explain, “Jeno keeps turning down all of the friends I try to set him up with.”

You’re expecting Chenle to at least give you a sympathetic nod or something, but he releases a loud laugh instead.

In between his chuckles, he manages to say, “Are you kidding, Y/n? Jeno and Jaemin have been dating since my Halloween party.”

“What? What the actual heck?! Jeno! How could you not tell me?”

You stomp ahead of the trio, arms folded and head facing the ground. Jisung jogs to catch up with you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and assuring you that they aren’t even that public with their relationship anyway.

You continue to sulk, asking, “Am I really that oblivious though?”

Recalling many previous experiences in which you were very much oblivious, Jisung decides it’s best not to answer, causing you to pout even more than you already are. And while Jisung thinks it’s a cute expression, he’d much rather see you smile. So he spends the rest of the day trying to cheer you up, spending the rest of his allowance on snacks at the tuck shop.

At the end of the day, his wallet is weeping and he’s never craved the red bean bun that you’re eating more than he does now, but it’s worth it to see that your spirits are lifted.

VI.

It’s the first snow of the season and the gang is out playing in the park, reveling in the fact that they have no assignments or after school classes for the day. You’re sitting on a swing, sipping some hot chocolate and swaying back and forth. You inhale deeply and let out a sigh, watching as your breath vanishes into the air.

Jaemin runs up to you and asks to try some of your drink, probably thinking it’s some type of coffee. Of course, you comply, holding your steaming steel tumbler out to the young man. He takes one sip and his nose scrunches up.

“What is that? Oh my god,” he says.

“It’s peppermint hot chocolate, Nana. Not everyone can drink coffee 24/7 like you do.”

“Peppermint?! Dude, gross. The only things that go in hot chocolate are whipped cream and cinnamon.”

You shoot Jaemin an incredulous look and ask the rest of the group, “Shut up. Peppermint is superior, right guys?”

The rest of the boys are too busy sliding down the slides or trying to make snowballs out of the thin layer of snow that’s on the ground, so the only response you get is a couple of careless shrugs.

A couple of days later, Jisung is sitting in the convenience store once again and reminiscing about the good old days like any high school student does. He remembers you saying something about peppermint and subconsciously starts perusing the store, briefly recalling that they just got a shipment of Christmas themed air fresheners.

His eyes light up when he finds the peppermint scented ones nestled at the back of the display. He grabs one and takes it to the register, trying to convince himself that he wants to make his room smell nice and not that he’s going to use it to spray on his school uniform.

However, several hours later, he finds himself spraying the canister into his closet, coating all his clothes with the soft scent of peppermint candy.

You take notice of it immediately the next day, telling Jisung that he smells really nice, and his face turns a bright vermillion.

Chenle chortles and elbows his side, saying, “Yeah, Jisung. You smell sooooo good! What is it again? Peppermint? Isn’t that a coincidence?”

Jisung proceeds to shove Chenle against a set of lockers and cover the loud-mouthed boy’s mouth with one of his hands, ignoring the way you raise an eyebrow in question of his behavior.

He’d probably die if he got found out, but he’s glad you like it and will probably continue to use his new “cologne” well into the summer seasons.

As Jisung finally descends into a state of light slumber, a warm feeling spreading across his body. It’s like he’s sitting by a fireplace wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, wearing the fancy slippers that he stole from hotel that Chenle took him to one time. It’s like the sun is shining down on his face on a cloudless day. Every memorable instance of you (which is basically every single one) is coming together, each one like a petal of a delicate flower.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that metaphorical flower will soon be in full bloom, and with it will come a realization that he may or may not be ready for.

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badtusk · 6 years ago

Photo

Quick cover for my alternate universe Pokemon fanfic

Riley doesn’t remember the “good old days,” not many kids her age do. Pokémon battles have been phased out, the Indigo League disbanded and the Elite Four remembered only fondly by those old enough to say they might have battled them. It’s not so bad, it’s hard to miss something you never had, but that never stopped anyone from dreaming - and Riley has big dreams. Chasing the whispers of a rumored underground Pokémon league, she hopes to challenge the new Elite Four and become a Pokémon master.

I usually don’t share my writing on here, but you can find the first installment under the cut here too c:

"Are you sure you want to do this, Riley? I mean, there are easier ways to get a Pokémon than breaking into the Old Lab. Besides, there's no way they have any old pokéballs left in there, they probably got rid of them all when they turned the place into a museum. I'm sure The Pika Cabin has some great Pokémon you can adopt."

"Liv, the Pika Cabin only ever has Rattata and Pidgey. Maybe a Snubbull. You look me in the eye and tell me Rattata is a great Pokémon," said Riley.

"They're cute," it was a very poor lie. Liv never liked rodents, not since her brother's Pikachu made a nest out of her favorite boots. The thing had given her a good shock when she stuck her foot in without looking. She cried.

Her brother still brings it up every family gathering.

"I don't really care if they're cute," said Riley, "if I'm going to compete in the Cinder Circuit, I want something that's going to win. Every new challenger is going in with Rattata because that's ALL anyone has. I want something different."

"Cinder Circuit?" Liv asked with a here-we-go-again air. "Come on, Riley. PLU shut down Pokémon battling years ago. There's no super secret underground league."

"That's the point of a super secret underground league," Riley said, "it's super secret."

"Where'd you even hear about it, huh? And don't say Bruce."

"He said he got his Pokémon from the Old Lab, from some guy named Big Hoss," said Riley, "Apparently this guy runs the entire League with his own Elite Four."

"Oh come on, Riley, you know he's just messing with you. And even if he's not," said Liv, "what're the odds this Big Hoss guy isn't some kind of sketched out dealer or something? You're going to go in there and get yourself killed, or worse."

"Look, if you don't want to go in, you can stay out here and be lookout," Riley said.

Liv jammed her fists into her coat pockets, "Fine."

"Text me if you see anything," Riley checked her Pokégear for good measure, noting her 45% battery life. More than enough for a "Rangers are coming" text.

She tucked it away and exhaled a calming breath, looking out at the fence that kept them out. She pulled the mane of pink curls out of her face and fixed them into a springy ponytail. Stray wisps framed a soft tawny face, her eyes magnified by gold circle rimmed glasses matched to a jeweled ring pierced through her septum.

Her mother hadn't approved of the piercing three years ago when she came back from Goldenrod with it fresh in her nose. She didn't much mind it now, bargaining that it was better than stealing or doing drugs.

Riley would be sure not to tell her about tonight.

"Be careful," Liv said.

Riley pushed her way through a hole in the fence and made her way towards the Old Lab.

Professor Oak's lab lay a ruin of memory, strangled by overgrown vines and dark shadows. Their fingers digging deep into the old bricks, spreading like an infection until the whole building was locked behind an iron gate posted with ugly signs marked :DANGER: and :DO NOT ENTER:. Bold letters, bold paint, hidden beneath a layer of dust and dirt, warnings that seemed just as apathetic as the Rangers that patrolled the grounds, punctuated with an indifferent shrug.

They had tried once to restore the old building, stripping away the rot and root and every broken brick in between. They'd dressed it up nice and plastered posters within her walls to hide the holes they couldn't fix. Old news, championships long passed and won; They figured history might thrive here, a nostalgic memory to the "good old days" when people and Pokémon battled to become "Elite." Because this is where it all began. But even that wasn't enough to save the old lab or the new museum it had become. Old display cases collected in their filth, glass like winter's frost, muculent like soap, but far less as clean or pleasant. The curios of the bygone sat beneath a layer of dust so thick they looked more like crude sculptures, ready to fall apart at the softest sigh. Monitors hung as empty black picture frames, silent in their omnipresence, cameras too still bowed over corners, soft fuzz prickling the glass that bulbed their eyes.

For so long it sat here, among all its dust and all the creeping woods, fading into the static of a familiar background where it became its own ghost. Remembered fondly by teenagers all for the wrong reasons, graffitied into the walls and littered upon the floors.

Riley clicked on her flashlight. The beam of light cut through the choking dark, filaments of dust drifting through its stream. She swept its light from one end of the hall to the other, murky glass casting back glares in what little clarity they had left.

She couldn't remember what this place looked like when there wasn't a gate and all those signs. Not many people could though. It's life as a museum was short lived, shut down when the Pokémon Liberation Union came to rise saying that it promoted "old and dangerous practices."

The laws came with great backlash and still did, not many people were happy about it or the dissolution of the Indigo League. But time passed, as it's known to do, and soon those people were old and the new generation couldn't remember a time where Pokémon battles were the norm.

But - there were whispers, quiet whispers, ones you had to strain to hear and question even when you thought you did. They called it the Cinder Circuit, the last burning coal beneath the ashes of a bygone era, an underground league that ran all throughout Kanto.

Riley had heard of it from a friend, Bruce, who swore to its existence on the grave of his mother. Which always made Riley laugh, seeing as Bruce had two dads.

She was skeptical, most people would be, that was fair to say, but being the daughter of a Joy, the idea of an underground league was more than exciting. And it all started here.

She crept down the hallway, keeping her light low and away from the windows looking out. Empty nips littered the corners of the hall with crumpled candy wrappers and cigarette butts that reminded Riley she wasn't the only one who had been here, or, was here. But listening close she could only make out the sounds of the wind and the Rattata in the walls.

Her footsteps never echoed, quiet in the pillow of dust and debris as she made her way about the Old Lab, peeking in every door, hoping to find something more than the vast nothing of a worthless museum's worth of crappy curios.

Pi! The text notification made her jump, panic already setting in as Riley feared the worst. She fumbled to pull her Pokégear from her pocket, sticking her light beneath her arm as she did so.

It was Liv, "Did you get in?"

"Shit, Liv," she breathed, "scared the hell out of me." She texted back: "Yes."

Pi! "Find anything?"

"Nothing yet. Any Rangers?"

Pi! "Nope, you're still in the clear. What's it like in there?"

"Like your grandma's house."

Pi! "Lol"

There was an emoji that followed after the "lol," but Riley didn't have it installed. She didn't bother to ask what the white box with the X through it was. It wouldn't change the message.

She tucked her Pokégear away and flipped the flashlight back into her hand, fighting back the shadows that threatened to swallow the halls and great empty rooms of the Old Lab.

She swore she saw one move.

And chose to ignore it. That was much easier than admitting it had moved.

She made her way down into a great open room, introduced by a 63 point font, bold letter Impact sign that read "Professor Oak's Lab." Outdated computers lined the walls, blank monitors reflecting back Riley's own complexion there in the dark. Old machines no one knew how to use were still plugged into wall sockets that didn't work, strange contraptions all tubes and screens, buttons and widgets, valves and half cranks. Riley fantasized their purpose, but didn't quite have the mechanical imagination for it.

She inspected each, leaning in close and bathing them in the light of her flashlight. She ran her thumb over their serial plates, reading the numbers as if they'd allude to whatever it was that they were.

Behind her, another shadow moved.

Or maybe it was the same shadow.

She listed across the room, coming about to the circular, flat top pedestal settled directly at its center. A glass display case enclosed its top where three pokéballs nestled neatly within, a faded stickers on the glass read "Bulbasaur," "Charmander," and "Squirtle." Distracted, interested, either way and all around unknowing, failed to see the shifting about her as the black of shadows melded with the floor, shrinking away from the walls and leaving them bare, as if nothing more a dusty drape left to hide the Old Lab from the New World, now there in a puddle all it's own just behind her heels where red eyes peered up from its void. Glowing. Ominous and dreadful.

Riley tilted her light to the case and could see the device that would project the Pokémon's data on the glass were electricity still working in the Old Lab. "Just a display," she told herself "there's no way they're real. No way they'd just leave some Pokémon sitting out like this." And stepped backwards, directly into that puddle of shadow where her foot sunk half an inch.

Startled, she pointed her light to the ground and couldn't help the yelp of fear that bubbled in her throat as her eyes met those glowing red slits of playful hate.

She pulled her foot up and pressed her back against the pedestal as the shadow pulled up from the floor, two spiked ears first, glowing eyes next and a wide toothy grin.

"Oh shit...a Gengar..." Riley exhaled her nerves in some big attempt to look calm in front of the wild Gengar, but her voice betrayed her when it broke between her words "H-hey there buddy, this your place? Pretty cool." She gave the Pokémon a thumbs up as she slyly made her way about the pedestal, unsure of what her next move was going to be.

The Gengar watched her with that unflinching smile, the glow of its eyes casting new shadows across the Lab, all seeming to smile just as big as it.

It wasn't stupid, she could see it in his eyes, the same type of look any manager might give in hearing whatever lame cover up you had to being late that wasn't simply just "I slept in." It knew. And she wasn't ignorant to that fact. She had to be quick, but most of all - she had to be lucky.

Riley's gaze flicked down to the encased pokéballs, then back to the Gengar as the rather ill advised plan began to knit itself to fruition.

The latch that affirmed the glass case over the pedestal was old and worn, rusty about the edges and one good wrench away from breaking. Riley didn't know the first thing about breaking locks, but she'd broken plenty other things without meaning to, so she assumed it wouldn't be that hard. Or hoped so at the very least.

'Screw it,' she thought, 'I'm going to catch it.'

#pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #gengar #alternate universe #pokemon au #pokemon oc

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jflashandclash · 5 years ago

Text

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Forty-Six: Ajax

Keeping it Holy

Really, it was Pax’s fault for getting floored.

He had been so wrapped up in the excitement of his surrogate father’s horrifying voice ringing through the battlefield and Tony the Egyptian Tiger punching through the ground that Pax may have forgotten the whole near-death family feud going on.

But now, at least he understood Calex’s fanboyism over Percy and the others. Pax was ready to storm over and ask for autographs of their reinforcements. That way he could jack up the price and sell them to Romans later.

During all this, Pax had to remember not to crush anyone when he jumped for joy. Flattened Romans: not good for positive demigod relations.

Plus, Pax was shrinking and weakening as some of the fighting slowed, bringing him closer to cute panda size. By laws of familial mythological powers, that meant his mom was losing powers too.

By the time Pax realized this, he also realized how much he’d screwed up by taking his eyes off his mother.

Something swept one of his legs.

Pax flopped backwards, crushing something. He hoped it was a ghoul, otherwise he’d have to add someone to the Nightmare Counter.

He slapped his hand against the strawberry field to break his fall, but a squawk—oh gods, did he really squawk when he was in eagle form? Hawkward[1]—erupted from his lips. Despite the hot, muscly bod his Mayan magic granted him, the impact spread pain through his recently fractured shoulder and recently healed hand.

Pax expected stickers, lollipops, and kisses-to-make-it-better for months after this.

Though a queasy weakness made his limbs shake, he had hoped he would keep the whole demigod super speed a little longer.

He didn’t.

His mother jammed her stiletto high heel into his injured hand before he could move.

Pax screamed. For an instance, he could remember the Leonis Caput lurking closer as Pax squirmed and withered to escape his own dagger. The smell of blood and smoke was too familiar. Panic bubbled in his stomach. Or maybe that was bile. Could never be too sure nowadays.

Pax thrashed. His now-talons tore into his mother’s ankle, shredding some of the leather boot.

His hand felt like it was on fire as she twisted her heel deeper.

He wanted to scold his mother and say Kally had just fixed that, but all that came out was, “What do the Fates have against my hand!?”

Eris released her fashionable Joker laugh. She leaned down. He’d torn the bandana off her face during their fight, revealing a smeared mash of reddish-black lipstick stretched into a crazed grin. It complimented the maniac glint in her eyes. “Oh, my little Terror Muffin. I would hope that you would do the same to me if I got in your way.” Her long, black plaits slipped from her shoulders to dangle in his face.

Tears wheeled up in his eyes. “No! I wouldn’t! I really wouldn’t!” Ichor spilled all over his fingers from where he clawed at her ankle. Why wouldn’t she get off? “I can’t balance in high heels tall enough!”[2]

Definitely impressive, but more horrifying at the moment.

When she leaned more onto that leg, Pax heard something crunch in his hand. He squealed. Not again! His fingers had barely been able to move from having a dagger shoved through the tendons—

“Now, come along. Join us! I’d have so much more fun fighting alongside you instead of against you!” she said with a huge grin, like none of this was weird.

Not for the first time, Pax became queasy at wondering how his parents had flirted, especially if this was his mother’s version of a Bring Your Son to Work day. He was also frustrated to remember his mother knew exactly how he fought: she’d kept her stance wide enough that he couldn’t tie her boot laces together.

He was about to point out that godly social services might not like this, but a ball of glowing, turquoise fur beat him to it.

Something their size smashed into Eris’ side.

Eris toppled backwards, down Farm Road’s hill.

Someone’s hands grabbed him, claws pinching his skin. The momentum happened so fast, he barely registered the plan before it started. “Smile for the audience.”

More tears threatened to well in Pax’s eyes, not that he had stopped crying recently. If these last few weeks kept at their current rate, he could probably team up with global warming to flood all coastal towns in the world.

That was a phrase Frasco used to say back in the circus whenever one of them fell or forgot their part. As Frasco explained in private, Frasco never cared about the mistakes they made during the performances, just that they had fun and were safe at the end of the day. Frasco said those words when lifting them for a quick recovery flip, so they could hop out of the flip with more excitement and pride than embarrassment or shame.

The same way this person lifted Pax for an assisted flip, apparently realizing his shoulder and hand were less than functional.

Pax landed back onto his feet, digging his ankle talon into the ground for stability.

Even though everything was not Reese’s Stick and Weasels, Pax still grinned with nostalgia. He glanced to the side at the glowing cat-headed avatar beside him.

For some reason, seeing Axel as a giant cat-chick didn’t scare Pax. Yea, this giant cat-chick was terrifying. But this could be any terrifying giant murder machine, not the special kind of PTSD-forever terrifying the Leonis Caput inspired.

While nausea did hit Pax’s stomach with the renew pain in the new hole in his hand, he didn’t flinch away from his brother.

A sense of giddy hope calmed Pax. While they couldn’t erase how Ares and Aphrodite had forced the Leonis Caput to give Pax How to Fillet a Demigod lessons, maybe he and Axel could be fine after this. Maybe he could still have one healthy, happy familial relationship.

Pax wanted to share his calm with Axel and comfort Axel after whatever ordeals he had to suffer going—apparently—to a magical, Egyptian Halloween store that landed Axel with the new outfit. He needed to say something that would make all this chaos and madness feel normal and easy. Something for a real heart-to-heart—

“Nice rack,” Pax said.[3]

Eris had regained her footing and was making her way up the hill. She hummed happily, like things couldn’t have been going better.

Axel growled deep in his throat as he shifted within the cat warrior. The avatar mimicked his defensive stance. “I’m twisting your ear off as soon as both our trauma settles,” Axel said.

“All I heard was, ‘Ajax, you have a free pass to harass all your friends and be inappropriate for the next few years,’” Pax said.

The cat avatar’s weird W mouth tweaked into a smirk. “Use it well. And know I have an excellent memory for when that pass runs out.”

The brothers stood side-by-side, one with claws out, the other talons, as Eris leveled with them.

This wasn’t their usual fighting stance. Normally, Pax practiced more of the hiding-behind-Axel-style, but he liked the change. It wasn’t like he hadn’t trained for it.

Eris’ serial killer, black eyes glistened with glee. “Santiago would be so proud of you both—”

Pax didn’t want his mother to finish the comment, since he guessed it wasn’t going to end with anything about his pranking glory. Clearly, Axel didn’t oppose some quality interruption either.

The brothers attacked at the same time, moving in harmony the way they might have if this were a circus performance with Frasco, Hiro, Lapis, and Kouta cheering them on.

Eris may have been able to handle Pax alone and even given him some nasty knife kisses, but alternating attacks between Axel and Pax sent her retreating.

As soon as Eris went to stab at one of Pax’s quick kicks, Axel would rush at her open side, slashing his claws out. She couldn’t block them both.

There was one major disadvantage of Axel’s new form: sword fighting and grappling were a little difficult when you had Mrs. O’Leary-sized-toothpicks for nails. At some point, Pax would need to make a haiku with that: Axel finally gets rid of his curse on swords. Gains sexy cat-lady form that will never need swords.

Pax, meanwhile, could barely use his hands. His fingers wouldn’t respond where his mother had smashed the ligaments again and where pain racked his shoulder with every movement. Plus, Pax had to admit, he hadn’t really wanted to hurt his mother. Until this point, he’d been mostly stalling to keep her from attacking the rest of camp.

They combo-ed everything they knew—using acrobatic and fighting, tumbling around her, kicking, attempting grapples. Each attack sent Eris stumbling backwards with more ichor smudges to her makeup.

The nice thing: Axel wasn’t here to save him or let Pax reduce to his cute fluffy self. Axel was here to fight beside him. Axel’s presence made it less chaotic. The attacks were methodical, designed to force Eris to focus—something Pax guessed was a deficit for his whole side of the family.

She could wear them down. Pax knew his Mayan blood sacrifice would run out, and he guessed Axel’s Tony the Egyptian Tiger suit would fail too, and, if it didn’t, Pax had a million questions he wanted to ask Reyna about her attraction to his brother. Regardless, they would need to end this fight fast.

Eris laughed hysterically, her form shrinking with each step backwards. Pax hadn’t realized it, but he was shrinking too, now smaller than Axel’s flickering avatar.

Flickering?

Eris let Axel’s next slash hit, grabbing his clawed hand and jamming it further into her side.

Axel growled and wrenched to withdraw, sensing the trap.

Eris spun, positioning herself between Pax and Axel, leaving her back completely open to Pax when she tossed something between she and her son.

A flashbang.

Sometimes, Pax really hated how much he was like his family.

“Stop—”

The last thing Pax saw over his mother’s shoulder was her knife digging deep into Axel’s avatar chest.

Then everything went white.

His ears rang.

Having super-eagle vision super sucked when you’re staring at a miniature sun explosion. A pop and flash left Pax stunned and disoriented.

His heart pounded in his head. Pax rubbed at his eyes, slashing a claw forward to snatch at his mother or find his brother’s avatar or a magical rewind button hovering in the air.

“Axel!” Pax screamed.

“I’m fine!” Axel said, sounding very not-fine. He sounded weak and raspy. His voice came from somewhere near the ground. It didn’t resound the way it had with the cat warrior suit. Tony the Egyptian Tiger was no more.

Pax should have seen this coming. This was his usual tactic: when outnumbered, drop a smoke bomb to confuse the enemy, take out your biggest opponent, do the world’s shortest victory dance, then run away to pet your weasels for another day.

While Pax still reached out blindly, something powdery puffed into his face.

Pax realized he should have held his breath after the first inhalation.

His lungs felt like they were burning. Chokes and cough racked his chest.

Maybe his Mom’s utility belt was a lot more dangerous than his. The grenades should have cued him in.

One thing was for sure though: Eris had not retreated to pet her weasels for another day. Her knee slammed into Pax’s diaphragm. Whatever breath he had left in him deflated as he collapsed to his knees.

He couldn’t even grab something from her utility belt or tie her shoes together. His fingers wouldn’t react enough. His mind was fuzzy from whatever she’d thrown in his face, now making him wheeze worse than a hippopotamus with bronchitis.

Eris pulled off his Silver Tongued Snake helm and pinched his cheeks together with her thumb and fingers, probably making him look like a fish. “Oh, little Terror Muffin,” she cooed. “I think you’re out of steam.”

She was right. Pax could feel a numbing, icy tingle as the Mayan power surge left him. Pain pierced his fingers, ankles, and arms. He wasn’t sure why until he managed to lift one hand to claw at her grip.

One of his finger talons snapped off. Although Pax knew they weren’t permanent, the rip felt very permanent. His arms felt weak and gangly, not nearly hot enough for his normal sexy, runaway acrobatic look.[4]

She patted his head, smearing some of her own ichor onto his skin. If Pax hadn’t already been conditioned to feeling sick, he might have thrown up a satyr.

He tried to look for his brother, to make sure Axel was actually okay, but everything was still too bright and blotchy. He felt too weak to turn his head.

“Darkness’ end: pax or chaos,” Eris muttered, reciting the last line of the Traitors of Olympus prophecy. “Such an odd thing for an oracle to say, almost too ambiguous. Your sister thought your choice of involvement would alter the end. After all, Axel would have never led his crew to help Euna if not for you. Some of your friends would have never found the courage to stand up the way they did today, to stand up and fall. My inspiring little hero.”

Eris tickled him. Normally, Pax would pretend to be ticklish when she did that. Now, he batted her hand away, mind reeling for a plan, but Pax had always been weak in the planning department.

“You take a nice nap here,” Eris said, “Now that I’ve taken care of you and your brother, I’m going to kill all of your friends while they’re distracted playing with the other gods.”

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned next week for another Ajax chapter, Two out of Ten Stars on the Monologue.

***

footnotes:

[1] Mel betacomment, “Pax! How have you survived this long! Right.. Axel.”

[2] False. He totally can and he knows it. One of the few actual lies Pax tells in the series.

[3] Mel was very concerned about whether or not cat avatar had boobs. Canon. Boom.

[4] Mel, “It’s like a delirious and sick Pax trying to do the sexy arm on a door thing to Kally and Kally scolding him.”

Jack, “I need to draw this now XD”

#Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #fanfiction #Traitors of Olympus #PJO #HOO #Eris #Pax #Axel #brothers being a BOSSSS #and then getting tossed >>''''#so close to the end!!!!!#Kinda said $ you to responsibility this weekend ^.^

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witchqueenofthemoon · 6 years ago

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BODY AND SOUL Part 4 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP okay y’all, buckle up. I’m sorry, first of all, that you don’t get to know what Kenzie’s dress looks like until Part 5. I just really want everyone to see it through Duncan’s eyes with him because he’s a soft Cancer prince and he’s falling hopelessly in love with an angel. A reminder that Claire is my AU version of Coco; Morgan is obviously Myrtle if that’s not immediately obvious. I’m sorry it’s taking so long to get back to pretty smut; Part 5 will be full of it, and patience brings forth riches. It’ll probably take me a few days to write Part 5 because I want it to be perfect, so please be patient and stick with me. I’m really happy with how Part 4 turned out in the meantime, and I had so much fun writing it. Mallory/Coco’s hidden friendship was one of my favorite surprises in APOCALYPSE. I promise to deliver in the CLOTHES department in Part 5 regarding both Mackenzie and Duncan. CLOTHESSS.

Mackenzie stopped outside Duncan’s building, her heart pounding a hundred miles a minute, pressing her clutch between her breasts, the intense and yet not unpleasant sensation of Duncan’s wool cardigan pressing against her back and shoulders, giving her goosebumps. I’m wearing Duncan Shepherd’s hundred-dollar cardigan. Oh my fucking god. She tried to take a deep breath, suck the cool May air into her lungs, calm her nerves which were racing along like she was high. She stood outside his high rise, breathing in deeply, breathing out slowly, measuredly, the way her mom had taught her when she was a little girl; breathe, Kenzie, just breathe. Her thoughts flashed to the way he’d knelt there, tying her shoes, looking up at her with liquid blue eyes. Holy fuck it had thrilled her. It had made her feel like her body was on fire, immersed in liquid heat. Duncan Shepherd had looked at her like she was made of magick, like a prince from a far away land kneeling at the feet of a queen he wished to woo. She couldn’t help but think of all the fairy tales she’d loved as a little girl when it came to Duncan; he looked like a prince, truly a dream boy from a fairy tale, Prince fucking Charming, come to save her from a dragon on a white horse, his curls falling over his forehead, his blue eyes stabbing into her heart, his body wrapping around her, but what she wanted to do with him, what she had done with him, was far beyond the fairy tales of her girlhood; when he put his hand around my neck in the shower, she thought, her cunt spasming with the memory of her orgasm. Fuck, I want him to do that again. Fuck, his tongue on my clit. Fuck, the way he made me come.

Okay, okay, Kenzie, just breathe, she reminded herself.

And you’re fucking going to dinner with him tonight. He asked you to go out with him again tonight. He asked for your phone number, practically begged, after you fucked twice and he ate you out fuck he did and you sucked his cock and he made you fucking breakfast and you told him your mother is Madeline Stone. Duncan FUCKING Shepherd.

She unbuttoned her clutch again, grabbing her phone out (its case was gold, an downwards-facing black crescent moon sticker pressed into the back), staring down at it in a daze for a moment, as if unsure of what it was for, remembering the call he’d pressed through his phone to it a few moments before. A text dinged through, the trumpet-sound ringing twice in a row. Kenzie, what happened at that Republican party you were trying to get into last night? Give me an update. Love, Mom

“Fuck, I forgot,” Mackenzie whispered to herself. Hey Mom, she typed, went okay, you know how that shit is, they’re pigs. But I did manage to pick up some interesting tidbits with my recorder. She glanced at the little recorder in her clutch, confirming that she hadn’t lost it in the abandon of last night. Oh, and I fucked Duncan Shepherd.

She didn’t type the last part, but it slashed through her brain, and she couldn’t help but giggle nervously into her hand. Her mom would think she was joking; her mom had an excellent sense of humor. But no. How the fuck could she tell her mother? No way. Not yet. She didn’t even want to think about what Madeline would say, the look that would fall over her face. She couldn’t even begin to go there. Her body still ached from where Duncan had fucked her with his big, hard cock (oh my fucking god) in wild rapture, staring into her eyes like she was cake he was going to devour. Her neck was marked with several darkening welts from his ardent, demanding lips and ached from where the heavy necklace had pressed into the nape all night after she’d passed out. She smelled like his soap, like his musky body, like his clothes (fuck, she was wearing his clothes). The afterglow of his kisses tingled all over her body, her lips swollen with the memory of his. Those lips. Fucking god. His large, beautiful, long-fingered hands. Everywhere. His eyes, impossibly clear and blue and intense, staring into her soul, laying it bare. It was as if he’d left an invisible tattoo all over her skin and she could feel its tender, shimmering glow, like it was alive.

“Fuuuuck, FUCK, holy shit fucking fuck!” She screamed, bouncing back on her heels, unbalanced. She couldn’t help it. A burst of nervous, wild laughter shot out of her; some pigeons nearby on the sidewalk nervously fluttered into the air, cooing their shock out towards her. A man in a suit with a briefcase walking across the street looked towards her with an annoyed expression, his gaze sliding away as she grinned at him. Yes, I am fucking insane, she thought towards him. I fucked Duncan Shepherd last night and this morning and it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and fuck me, I can’t wait to do it again.

She was still clutching her phone in one hand and she jumped as another trumpety text rang out from it. Did everything go okay with that shitty party? It was Claire.

She yelped, fumbling with her phone and practically dropping it on the sidewalk, frightening the pigeons again. CLAIRE. She had to tell someone, and it had to be Claire. She imagined her best friend’s pink-lipsticked mouth hanging open when she heard what Kenzie had done and could feel the wild grin plastered on her face at the thought.

OH MY FUCKING GOD, she typed, adding the haunted face emoji and the skull emoji, hitting send. She saw the telltale dot bubbles come up a second later, indicating that Claire was replying.

Clairebear: ??????? Are you okay???

Kenzie typed quickly. Can you meet me for coffee at Emissary? I have to tell you in person. I’m okay but holy FUCK, something happened. Something insane.

Clairebear: Uhhhhh??!?! YES. I can walk over there now.

I’m in Georgetown, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.

Clairebear: KENZIE, WHY ARE YOU IN GEORGETOWN, IT’S 10 AM ASFKHGSDKGHG

I’LL TELL YOU IN FIFTEEN MINUTES BITCH

Mackenzie opened the Lyft app on her phone and was relieved to see a car was two minutes away. She bounced on her heels, feeling dizzy (his lips on her neck), heart racing again. Claire was going to lose her fucking shit. And holy fuck, I’m seeing him again tonight. He’s picking me up in his fucking private car. She glanced up at Duncan’s high rise, up to the top floor where she knew his penthouse was, biting her lip in that familiar way she tended to. God, I need to remember to look at the view next time between kisses, she thought, her cheeks glowing in the early morning sun.

-----

Kenzie thanked her driver, stepping carefully out of the Prius that had picked her up in front of Duncan’s building; she felt dizzy and ungainly still, as though she might just fall over and not be able to get back up, her limbs shaking. Kenzie, be cool. Tell Clairebear what happened.

She pulled the glass door of Emissary (her favorite coffee shop, it helped that it was a few blocks from her apartment in Dupont Circle) wide, eyes searching for Claire’s telltale platinum blonde modern shag and carefully applied lip stain. She zeroed in on her friend at one of the more discreet tables in the side-room (Claire was in knee-high boots, a beanie, and a copious checkered scarf that twisted around her shoulders), and her eyes widened in anticipation. Patrons on their laptops and with books or talking in low tones were scattered around the cafe; thankfully, it seemed busy enough that no one would pay them any particular attention.

She walked up, still feeling shaky, to the counter, ordering a small soy latte, stuffing a five-dollar bill into the tip jar. Karma, please be with me, she thought, every little bit helps. “Geez, thank you,” the barista (a nonbinary person with a short bob, glasses and a black sweater with a white collar) had said, eyeing the bill, smiling at her. She smiled at them, that nervous energy still humming along under her skin. “I’ll bring it over to you,” the barista said, turning away from her to the espresso machine. “Thank you,” Kenzie murmured, whipping around and sprinting as quickly as she could on those godforsaken heels to Claire’s table.

Claire looked up, eyes wide, as her friend crashed into the seat in front of her.

“Kenzie,” she stated, staring into the smaller girl’s wild eyes (god what the fuck is going on there), the way she always did when her best friend had done something dangerous or impulsive and had this deer-in-headlights look. Usually it had to do with a story, of course. Kenzie was an excellent journalist, and she was always putting herself in strange positions to get the best angle on a story. But this seemed to be something else.

“Claireohmygodfuckinghellohmyfuckinggod,” Mackenzie breathed, words blending to the point where they became nonsense.

Claire reached out to her, snorting, smiling nervously, grabbing her friend’s small hand. She noted that Kenzie wasn’t wearing any makeup, that her hair still looked a little bit damp, that she was clearly wearing last night’s dress and heels, and that she was wearing a black cardigan that was much too big for her and was clearly cut for a man. Claire’s eyes flickered to Kenzie’s neck, where she saw several telltale red marks. Oh, my god.

“Kenzie. What did you do. Tell me right now.”

“Claire, don’t get mad. Promise you won’t get mad at me.”

“Kenzie.”

Kenzie steeled herself, (deja vu, she thought, I just did that with Duncan when I told him my mother’s name), grasping her friend’s hand with cold fingers.

“Duncan Shepherd was at that party last night. I--I went home with him.”

Just as she’d imagined, Claire’s mouth fell open in a gigantic oval, her bright eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief. “WHAT.”

“Clairebear, oh my god. I don’t even know how to tell you. He’s nothing like what you’d imagine. God, he was so wonderful. God, he’s so hot. He was so gentle and beautiful, you wouldn’t believe. I’ve never felt like that before. God, you should see his penthouse, it’s insane, he made me fucking breakfast, Claire--”

“MACKENZIE.”

“CLAIRE, DON’T BE MAD AT ME.”

“Duncan Shepherd?” Her friend hissed at her quietly. “The Duncan Shepherd? Annette Shepherd’s son? Annette Shepherd who owns ten of the most prominent centrist publications in the country? Shepherd Freedom Foundation Duncan Shepherd? Mackenzie Louise Stone, are you out of your fucking mind!”

“Claire. He wants to see me again tonight.”

“Kenzie, oh my fucking god.”

“He wants to pick me up in his private car.”

“KENZIE.”

“Claire, I’ve never had an orgasm like that in my whole fucking life. Two orgasms like that.” She whispered the last part, leaning in close to her friend’s raptly staring face. “His eyes. He’s so tall and so fucking gorgeous and his smile, fuck, I almost died.”

Claire tried to hide her smile behind her hand, bringing her matcha up to her mouth to stifle the laugh that Kenzie could see behind her eyes.

“Who are you and where did you take my Kenzie Stone?”

“I know. I don’t know. I can’t explain. He’s so fucking gorgeous in person, Claire. I’ve never see anyone as beautiful him, ever. He looks at me like I’m made of cake or something. His eyes, they’re like blue crystals, god, the way he kissed me--”

She took a breath, watching her friend’s face, which was rapidly running a gamut, strange mixture of happiness and concern.

“Are you wearing his fucking sweater.”

“Yes. He insisted. Clairebear. I don’t know what’s happening to me. He made me feel like...I don’t know how to describe how it felt. He’s so lovely. It was like a dream.”

“Lovely? Jesus, Kenzie.”

“His dick, oh my god.”

Claire tried to stifle her snort of laughter again as the barista came over with Kenzie’s latte. Kenzie pressed her lips together, trying to keep a straight face, thanking them. They nodded, walking back towards the coffee counter. Claire was still staring at her, her eyes goggling, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, shaking her head.

“I bet he fucks a new girl every night, Kenzie. Guys like that are notorious.”

“I--Claire.”

“Kenzie, I do not want you to get fucked over by some idiot rich boy. Like, jesus. I’m shocked...and appalled.” She grinned at the last part, though. Clearly, Claire was excited over what Mackenzie had just confessed to her. She was trying--and obviously failing--to be the sensible one. A snort of amusement bubbled under her words and as she and Kenzie stared at each other, they both burst in laughter.

“Claire, what the fuck do I wear tonight.”

“Honestly, it sounds like it doesn’t matter. He’s already seen you in your birthday suit.”

“Clairebear. It was like a fairy tale. I can’t believe it happened. I smell like his soap. Like his cologne. It was like...wood and...I don’t know.”

Claire reached out, grabbing Mackenzie’s wrist, bringing it up to her nose. “Fuck,” she breathed. “That smells fucking good. Like sandalwood and jasmine.”

“I know.”

“If he does a single thing to hurt you, I will break his fucking jaw.” Claire held fast to her wrist, shaking it in a display of motherly scolding. “You know I trust you with my life, Kenzie. You know I trust your judgement. I’m gonna trust you here. But please be careful, jesus. Men like that are living in a different universe. A bizarre one where the laws of life and decency don’t apply to them. And that shit makes me nervous. And Annette Shepherd is terrifying. Even watching her on TV gives me the creeps.”

“Claire, I promise, I’ll be careful. Clairebear. Oh my god. Fuckfuckfuck.”

Kenzie saw a warm smile fall over her friend’s open face. “I cannot believe you, bitch,” Claire said, reaching over and grabbing Mackenzie by the shoulders, shaking her gently. “God, that’s a nice cardigan. What about your mom? Holy shit.”

“I know. Do not tell her, swear. Cross your heart.”

Claire crossed her right pointer finger over her ribcage, marking the spot with an X.

“You should see his walk-in closet. I thought I was gonna faint.”

“I better meet this idiot soon.”

“Claire, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kenzie Lou. Please be fucking careful. Oh my god.”

-----

Kenzie pushed through the door of her studio apartment, throwing her clutch in a moment of abandon across the room where it landed on her futon’s duvet, covered in constellations. Now that she was back in her little room, she wondered in awe if she’d dreamt all of it. But no. Here she was in his cardigan, bathing in the musky smell of him, totally intoxicated. She brought the arms of the sweater up to her nose, breathing in deeply. It made her dizzy. It made her think of his lips on her neck. His tongue in her mouth. His hands around her breasts, his cock pounding into her--

“Breathe, motherfucker, breathe,” she told herself. Claire was right. She would need to try to be sensible about all of this. The Shepherds were one of the most powerful families in the country, let alone in Washington. They could fuck you up in a heartbeat and throw away the key. The thought of Annette Shepherd staring her down with judging, sharp eyes made an icy chill course through her veins.

Maybe tonight is the last time I’ll see him, anyway, she thought, trying to be practical. Maybe he just wants more of what he got last night, and nothing else. You have to admit that might be true.

But then she remembered the way he’d looked up at her while he tied her sandals this morning; the way he’d slammed his coffee cup onto the counter with so much force it broke, and reached for her hand, holding it so tenderly. The way he’d pulled her into him, with such tender longing, tried to catch hold of her to kiss her again as she’d slipped out the door. Some men are really good at faking it, her mother’s voice leaked into her ears. Some will do whatever it takes to get what they want, and that includes fucking you over to fuck you.

But maybe not, she argued with the imaginary version of her mother in her head. Maybe he’s different. I have to at least let it play out. After last night, I have to, mom. If you were me, you’d do the same thing. That was the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me with another person. That felt like the look that comes into people’s eyes when they talk about soulmates. That was something else. He got into my heart. I can’t deny it. I’m already falling for him.

Oh, fuck.

Kenzie’s apartment, small as it was, was full of green falling plants and succulents, sun, moon and star motifs everywhere, from the moon cycle tapestry hanging over the door to the bathroom, to the triple moon goddess symbol she’d painted on one wall in shimmering gold, to the sun wind chime over her bed and the matching moon and star chimes that hung over her little kitchenette, little pots of succulents lining the window sills. Dozens of jars of herbs and spices lined her countertop; she saved jam jars and labeled them in her looping handwriting, some of which she’d grown herself in the shared lot behind her apartment complex. She loved the earth, being near it, nurturing it, seeing what gifts it would give her in return. She wondered if Duncan would accept a plant from her if she gave him one. She’d noticed he hadn’t had anything growing in his penthouse; wondered absently if he was too busy to look after plants. I could take care of them, the thought bubbled up in her subconscious, shyly. I would love to have so much room. I’d fill it with so many living things. I’d love to take care of them for him; a little love letter from me to him. A secret one.

She fell into her ratty armchair, a chair her mother Madeline had had since she moved into her first apartment before she’d met Madeline’s father (Richard Mapother, a successful film critic, but he and Madeline’s marriage had been short-lived after Mackenzie was born; she seldom saw her father as he lived in LA now, presiding critic for Empire magazine; Madeline had gone back to her maiden name after their divorce, had Mackenzie’s surname changed on her birth certificate, and kept it through her second marriage, which had also ended badly, this one after only a few months; he had been a fellow journalist at the Post, and it had caused a scandal). This chair Mackenzie had demanded to keep when her mother had thought about throwing it away; it had once been dark brown, but was now fraying to the point that it its color had begun to wash away. She’d covered it with a thick woven blanket covered in constellations, similar to her bedspread. Mackenzie thought of Duncan’s long leather couch, ominously immaculate and stern, and she let out a sigh. I’m sure he’d be impressed with my armchair.

Here, in the daylight, she wondered what she’d been thinking last night. She’d been so angry and annoyed after a Senator she recognized (for his infamous misogyny, no less) had attempted to chat her up at that terrible party, and she’d managed to escape onto the balcony, her nerves rattled. But the way Duncan had looked at her; she shivered recalling it. It wasn’t just desire. There was something else there. Wonder? He had looked at her in awe. The look in his eyes had been one of fascination. Dare she even think it; of reverence. It made goosebumps rise on her arms, made her heart thump in her throat, at her temples. She launched herself out of the sagging armchair, grabbing a glass out of her little cabinet, filling it with water from the tap, and draining the whole thing. She looked down at her shoes; those painful heeled sandals that Duncan had untied and re-tied with such gentle adoration. God, the way he looked at me, she swallowed, sighed, set the glass down, leaning against the counter, pushing a hand through her now almost-dry hair, moving her hands to unhook the crystal earrings from her earlobes, setting them down quietly, pensively. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Like I was the stars in the sky.

“To the mystery of first meetings,” he’d said. His sweet, low voice rang in the memory of her ears. Baby. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Kenzie. I love that.

“I could love him,” she said out loud, to no one. Her cat, Holt, had died over a year ago, and she hadn’t had the heart to get another; she’d buried him in her herb garden in the backyard. “If he could love me, I could love him. I don’t even know him, but I think I could. I can’t have imagined it. I didn’t imagine him. I can’t have invented the way he looked at me; the way he touched me. The way he spoke to me.”

She blushed; also to no one. She would keep that secret in her heart, for now. No matter what happened, she’d keep last night and this morning in her secret heart, always.

She stepped over to her futon bed, sitting on the edge, pulling her clutch over to her from where it had landed on her pillows, pulling her phone out and setting it on her lap, leaning down to unlace her sandals. She paused, her fingers against the laces, remembering his large hands there, his long elegant fingers, pressing ardently into her skin. She almost didn’t want to take the shoes off; it was almost as if she would break some kind of spell he’d weaved there if she did, break the spell of the evening, bring her crashing back into reality. But she unlaced them anyway, biting her lip, pulling her feet out of their trappings, remembering that last night he’d kissed the red marks the laces had left on her ankles, and she shivered again, brought the cardigan’s long sleeves to her face again, feeling as though, for some reason, she could cry.

Her phone was still on silent, but through misty eyes she noticed the screen light up on her lap. She looked down, pushing the sudden tears away, banishing them behind her eyes, which, though she could not see them herself, glowed with a similar dark green shade as the one they’d turned last night, looking down at Duncan between her legs. She flipped the sound switch on the side of the phone.

You left your necklace in the bathroom and your headband on the nightstand. I can give them back to you tonight. I can’t wait to see you, Kenzie.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered. Now he probably thought she’d left them behind on purpose. She’d been so dazed, so dizzy in his embraces, she’d felt like she was on some other plane, in some other world, and she’d forgotten her jewelry utterly.

Ugh, sorry. She typed, biting into her lip. I didn’t mean to do that. You were distracting me. She couldn’t help it. She was honest to a fault, and that was the truth.

Her heart jumped around in her chest as she watched the telltale text bubbles appear for a moment. They disappeared. Then reappeared. She didn’t notice, but she was holding her breath.

I’d keep them forever if it meant I’d see you again. I want to distract you again. And again. And again.

“Oh my fucking god,” she whispered to herself, hands gripping the phone with white fingers.

She typed something, erased it, and then retyped it. She closed her eyes, and hit send. No takebacks. It was gone. She did it.

I want you to.

She stared at her phone, breathless, for a few moments. No text bubbles appeared. The moment stretched; became a minute. She had to breathe; she felt the tightness around her heart.

Then, the text bubbles appeared.

She stared, her eyes still cast with that greenish hue she couldn’t see, her phone grasped between her fingers in her lap, her feet bare, her hair smelling of Duncan’s jasmine soap.

I am waiting for tonight with an ache in my heart for you that I’ve never felt before for anyone.

She read the text. Again. Again. Five times, six times, her breath catching in her lungs, refusing to come out, filling her mind with a sound like angels singing at the gates of heaven. Duncan Shepherd had just sent that to her. Reality no longer made any sense. She resolved deep inside her soul that she was going to let this happen to her. Come what may, the hand of destiny was pressing down on her. A sixth sense spoke to her: now is not the time to play it safe. Open yourself to this. Let this happen to you. To live is to love. That’s all there is.

“Okay,” she whispered. She typed one more time.

Duncan, I feel the same way. You’ve touched my heart.

The text came back right away.

See you at 9. Tonight, everything is for you.

She laid back onto her blanket of constellations, her head falling between the lower arms of Cancer, Iota Cancri extending into the heavens above her, Acubens and Altarf on either side of her chestnut waves, adorning her temples like a crown. Everything is for you.

-------

She woke a little later, her phone dinging its trumpet sound out again into her little apartment, her eyes falling on the sun-shaped celestial wind chime that hung beside her bed. She liked to listen to its soft rustling at night; it helped her sleep now, a unique white noise that she had become attached to. She grasped the phone, heart pounding again; an hour had passed, she hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep, there had been so much adrenaline coursing through her since this morning, she must have crashed particularly hard.

The text was from Claire. She swallowed, pushing down the disappointed feeling that rose unbidden under her skin. You’re seeing him in a few hours, calm down.

Clairebear: Kenzie Lou, I found the perfect dress for you tonight.

Claire worked for a designer; her name was Morgan Winthrop, and her work was dark, beautiful, and romantic. The velvet dress Mackenzie had worn last night to that terrible (wonderful, fateful) party had been a sample piece from Winthrop’s collection from the previous fall. “I thought of you right away when I saw it,” Claire had said, holding it up to the warm evening light of her stylish living room over their Chinese takeout. Mackenzie trusted Claire more than anyone, and knew her best friend understood her taste and her body; if Claire said she had found her a perfect dress, Mackenzie believed her.

A photo followed the text. Kenzie gasped. Claire hadn’t been kidding.

It was perfect.

------

Kenzie glanced down at her phone with fingers that refused to stop shaking. It was 8 PM. One hour. She turned back to her bathroom mirror (surrounded by small prints of celestial scenes and constellations in gold-painted frames), trying to steady the hand that was applying kohl under her hazel eyes, which looked far too big and worried and round in her little bathroom mirror. Kenzie. What are you doing. What’s happening. She blew a shaking breath out; just get your shit together, you can do this. You can be calm and collected. You can be a goddess.

No, I can’t.

You can.

Her little bluetooth speaker sat on top of her toilet tank, the only steady, non-damp place for it. An angelic soprano’s voice rang from it, soothing her shaking fingers. And I, I feel it after midnight, a feelin’ that you can’t fight / my one, it lingers when we’re done, you’ll believe God is a Woman

She’d gone to Morgan’s studio after Claire’s text; Morgan had been pleased to see her and fit the dress for her. “Darling, you’re a muse, your coquettish charm is indescribably lovely,” Morgan had cooed to her, gloved hands beckoning to her, Morgan’s wild, frizzy orange hair catching the afternoon light from the windows of her open-spaced studio with its black-and-white striped walls. “I’m delighted to fit you for a romantic evening, you of all people deserve joy.” Mackenzie had looked down shyly at her words; if only Morgan knew what would probably be happening to the dress later, tossed to the floor. She stood in front of the long mirror quietly as Morgan pinned and prodded with agile practice; as she watched, the dress melded to her body like a second skin.

“Ravishing,” Morgan had stated, matter-of-factly, as she stood back to gaze at Mackenzie through the mirror. Claire looked on from a little further away, seated on a bench, watching as she had for the past hour or so. “Oh, Kenzie,” she breathed. “He’ll die.”

And he see the universe when I’m the company / it’s all in me

Kenzie set down the kohl pencil, reaching for the choker she’d placed carefully on the side of the sink. It was black velvet, with a downwards-facing crescent moon charm hanging from the throat, similar to the one on the back of her phone case. She fastened it around her neck, her thoughts flashing back to Duncan’s hands there, pressing with their impossible soft heat, thrilling every nerve ending in her body, like they belonged there. She stared at herself in the small mirror.

Fortune favors the bold, she thought, staring into her own eyes. Yet another one of her mother’s sayings.

Make me bold, she whispered silently, out into the universe, to whoever was listening, if anyone was at all. Give me a heart made of light, the better to see with, the better to feel with, give me the heart to see him. And give him the heart to see me. Give us both courage to say the things we feel.

She felt that indescribable heaviness again; like the giant wheel of time was turning on some far-flung stage of the universe, a colossal event that she couldn’t see; she could only feel it. She could only hang on and hope. Kenzie took another breath, shook out her long chestnut hair (adorned with another gold headband, this one with three moons, waxing, full, and waning), turned off the bathroom light, and went to her mother’s ratty armchair to wait for the clock to strike 9, the music still ringing in her ears.

You’ll believe God / God is a Woman

#millory #body and soul #millory au #duncan shepherd #house of cards #duncan shepherd au #duncan shepherd x mackenzie stone #duncan x mackenzie #collie #cody x billie #cody fern #billie lourd #ahs apocalypse #collie au

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unreone · 4 years ago

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I present to ya my first OC ~

When I was in middle school, I watched my cousin play DND sessions with her classmates. Eventually, I would create my own character and all she does is eat.

Eating is not a personality though so I expanded her character a bit more.

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Name: Liliana Wonderclout

Nickname: Lily, Shadow Lily

Age: 19 years old

Height: 165 cm

Title: Beast Tamer

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Weapon of Choice:

a) Soothing Voice

- 75% succession rate (90% if she's all by herself)

- She would speak in the language of the beast, convincing it that she's not an enemy. The beast would turn against its comrades and follow her orders. If lucky enough, the beast would stay with her after the battle.

b) Summoning Dice

- 1/6 probability or 16.66% chance of summoning the desired beast

- Could summon one beast every ten minutes

- Requires five minutes for mana recovery

c) Vanishing Cloak

- 50% succession rate

- requires half of her mana points

- will work for fifteen minutes

Hobbies: Accepting quests, exploring dungeons, befriending monsters and beasts, collecting soul stickers (which she could stick on her summoning dice to call the soul owner anytime)

Personality: Lily is a happy go lucky type of person. This bubbly individual will always sees the light of any situation. One would either admire her or hate her for being carefree. She finds it difficult to sympathize with others (having a heart seemingly impossible to receive negative emotions). She's very observant of unimportant things like that waving ant on the floor. Constantly needs reminder of what's the mission since she usually gets distracted.

Quirks/Facts:

a) She doesn't like "human foods". She prefers eating rocks, branches, leaves, flowers, barks, and mushrooms. She's willing to ingest potions and elixirs tho.

b) Usually seen smiling and laughing. It's extremely rare to see she isn't.

c) More knowledgable than appears to be and acts.

d) Staying on the Other dimension have certain side effects on humans like her. She can't feel pain so she usually doesn't notice her injuries. She's still mortal, just oblivious of the fact that she's losing blood. Her hair color changes according to the phase of the moon.

e) Her left eye will randomly glow, attracting other entities to her direction. This is quiet bothersome when she's on a stealth mission.

Backstory:

When she was born, her mother abandoned her to the woods. She was expected to die there. Instead, a miracle happened. The Forest Guardians took pity of her and took her into their dimension. She was raised properly, taught her every language They know, educated her on what's right and wrong, and granted her an ability to eat things that is normally not consumable by humans (so that she could survive in any desperate times). Upon reaching the age of 12, she became curious of the people she saw wandering the woods. Asking about them, her mind is filled with wonderful Epics of courageous adventurers. Seeing that bright hope in her eyes, the Forest Guardians gives her direction on how to start her own journey. With a wide smile and curious heart, she left the woods to go the Town of Beginnings.

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

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pirate-patton · 7 years ago

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While it’s still early in the month, just thought I’d share something with you guys:

The Teal Pumpkin Project

If you give out candy on Halloween, or your parents do, it would be terrific if you could participate in this! The purpose of the Teal Pumpkin Project is to give kids with food allergies options for Trick-or-Treat! Simply by having things like slinkies and bubbles on hand lets these kids that usually miss out on the fun participate!

If you can do this, then you can add your address to the map in the link so that parents can easily find you! You can also get a pumpkin, either real or plastic, and paint it teal to put in front of your house. There are also downloads for signs you can hang instead if you are going to be giving out both candy and non-food items! (also in the downloads are things like activity sheets and coloring pages for kids to have, as well as sticker sheet templates!)

You can also support the Teal Pumpkin Project and FARE as a whole by donating to them or purchasing Teal Pumpkin products!

Seriously, as someone who grew up with sensitivities to a lot of foods, I grew up either giving most of my bag away to my dad or just throwing it away. The few houses that I went to that gave away toys or bubbles or other goodie bags were always my favorite because I knew they’d have something I could enjoy. If you can participate in this project, you can give kids a choice and give kids a happier and more fun Halloween.

So, paint a pumpkin teal and grab some glow sticks because Halloween is just around the corner!!!!

“The TEAL PUMPKIN PROJECT and the Teal Pumpkin Image are trademarks of Food Allergy Research & Education (FARE).”

#halloween #trick-or-treat #utilizing my followers for a good cause :o

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gethealthy18-blog · 6 years ago

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26 Non-Candy Halloween Treats Kids Will Love

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/26-non-candy-halloween-treats-kids-will-love/

26 Non-Candy Halloween Treats Kids Will Love

Halloween and I have a complicated relationship, at least since I became a mom. Take trick-or-treating, for instance. It’s a fun tradition, but there certainly aren’t too many healthy Halloween treats (or even close to it). Easter and a few other holidays require some similar soul-searching.

So what’s a health-conscious mom to do? As I see it, I have a couple of options:

Option #1: Ignore Halloween Completely

Yep … I did this!

I’ll admit it: when my kids were all really young, I just pretended Halloween didn’t exist. We didn’t do the trick or treating thing or the costume thing. In fact, we usually just turned out the lights and went to bed early on trick-or-treating night.

I just didn’t like the idea of already grumpy toddlers staying up late to go to strangers’ houses and ask for candy packed with food dyes.

As my kids get older and want to dress up, trick-or-treating is harder to avoid. On the one hand, I completely understand the fun tradition of wearing a costume and spending time with friends. On the other, I don’t love the idea of them getting bags upon bags of candy (that will make them crazy and rot their teeth out).

Since I’ve learned a thing or two about balance and moderation over the years, we’ve moved on (a little reluctantly) from this option.

Option #2: The Candy Fairy

Opinions differ on whether or not receiving a mountain of candy in one night provides a natural opportunity to learn self-control. I’m all for kids having these life lessons, but I’m a big believer in giving kids choices within certain boundaries set by the parent. (Hence my love for Montessori.)

The Candy Fairy (or Switch Witch, take your choice) visits our house after trick-or-treating and the kids don’t seem to mind a bit. We switch out the majority of the candy for a fun grab bag of treats. Since they come from our home, this also gives me the chance to throw some tasty edibles from better sources.

Option #3: Offer Healthy Halloween Treats

I know, I know … handing out a treat other than name-brand candy is a surefire way to get your house rolled. I promise, I’m not suggesting handing the kids an apple or a carton of bone broth.

Still, since childhood obesity rates are around 17% in the U.S. (and thankfully holding steady for the last few years), wouldn’t less candy given to kids be a positive change?

In fact, there plenty of reasons to consider giving out non-candy treats:

Food Allergies – Food allergies are on the rise and many popular types of candy contain peanuts and other allergens. I know quite a few moms who can’t let their kids trick or treat because of potential peanut exposure. (Proof this is a real trend: The Teal Pumpkin Project.)

Too Much Sugar – With high rates of obesity and other health problems, especially among youth, I can’t in good conscience hand out tons of sugary candy. The 80/20 rule is great and there may be a time and a place for treats. The problem is that time seems to be all the time. And the place seems to be everywhere. Kids get candy at the bank, the doctor, school, and almost everywhere they go. Do they really need bags of it?!

Dye Sensitivities – Many kids are sensitive to food dyes and it is tough to avoid them in most types of candy.

Orthodontics – Candy and sugary snacks aren’t good for teeth and can stick to braces and other mouthpieces.

Easier on Parents – When you give out non-candy Halloween treats, you save parents the trouble of checking for anything harmful in the candy.

True, non-candy treats may not make your house the most popular stop in the neighborhood, but there are some really fun alternatives to candy that are definitely kid-approved. And all the other families who are trying to limit sugar or who are sensitive to food dyes will thank you!

Ideas for Non-Candy Halloween Treats (Kids Actually Like)

These are the top healthy Halloween treats I keep in my stash. Bonus: If you have some leftover, most of these will keep until next year!

1. Glider Airplanes

Surprisingly, mini airplanes are inexpensive and a great alternative to candy. My brother loved these when we were little and would have taken one of these over candy any day!

2. Organic Juice Boxes

A consumable Halloween treat that is practical. After walking around the neighborhood, kids may be thirsty. It still has sugar and isn’t an everyday thing for us, but it makes a great treat.

3. Natural Fruit Leather

In my opinion these taste way better than artificially flavored fruit candies! Buy them in bulk for the best price. I’ve seen them at Costco for a good price, or they’re available from Thrive Market or Amazon for a good price.

4. Bouncy Balls

My kids love bouncy balls and we don’t usually have them around the house because of all. the. bouncing. Grab a pack of 100 for cheaper than a big bag of candy and call it a day! They even make creepy eyeball bouncy balls!

5. Local Honey Sticks

My oldest son brought home a bunch of these from a beekeepers’ meeting one time and they were an instant hit with his siblings. Ideally find some from a local beekeeper, or order online. These are still a sweet treat, but the beneficial properties in honey make it a healthier alternative to candy.

6. Stamps

My littles spend hours stamping pictures on paper and they gave me the idea for this candy alternative. Stamps are also cheaper than candy when you get them in bulk.

7. Apple Cider Packets

I’m hoping it will cool down by Halloween, and if it does, kids will love something to warm them up after walking around. Even better, this brand uses pretty decent ingredients!

8. Carabiners

A novel and practical kid favorite! Carabiners top the list of practical gifts that can be reused, and as a bonus… they are plastic free!

9. Mini-Flashlights

A practical idea for kids walking around after dark! Keychain flashlights are fun for kids and a good candy alternative if you don’t live in a busy neighborhood. Order them in bulk for a good price.

10. Pumpkin Oranges

Feeling crafty? Get some organic oranges and use a natural marker to draw some pumpkin faces on the peel. This is probably best for a group of friends or close-knit neighborhood where people trust an unwrapped offering.

11. Organic Candy

If you just can’t fathom the idea of giving out something besides candy, opt for a better kind of candy. This brand of organic lollipops is dye-free and contains vitamin C.

12. Fake Mustaches

Kids love these hilarious fake mustaches. I brought a few packs of fake mustaches to a costume party for adults once and the next morning we woke up and found all of the kids in mustaches too! For a holiday that requires a costume, these are fun to give out!

13. Stickers

I have to say, kids have ruined stickers for me. They seem to think it’s a great idea to plaster stickers on any surface to make it more festive. (There is still sticker residue on their bunk beds to prove it.) Since Halloween is about fun for the kids though, I’ll be a sucker and order 1000 of them really inexpensively for treats to give out.

14. Bubbles

Bubbles are a fun activity that every kid loves. My children will play with these for hours a time!

15. Mini Notebooks

My daughters keep these mini notebooks in their mini purses so they can draw and take notes.

16. LED Light Up Rings

Forget Ring Pops! These rings light up in crazy colors and are a fun way keep kids safe in the dark.

17. Skeleton Bone Pens

Possibly the coolest item on this list! These bone-shaped pens are really cool and practical too!

18. Wikki Sticks

A great inexpensive Halloween treat to give out that stimulates creativity. Wikki Sticks are made from yarn and natural wax and are a mess-free creative way for kids to draw and build pictures.

19. Lego People

Want to be the coolest house on the block? Give out little Lego compatible figures!

20. Glow Bracelets

I don’t usually get glow sticks because of the plastic, but I’ll pull them out as a special treat or candy alternative. Glow bracelets are the most practical option because they also make kids easier to see in the dark while out trick or treating! I’ve never seen a kid leave disappointed when receiving a glow bracelet instead of candy.

21. Puzzle Balls

The downside? They are plastic. The upside? Puzzle balls are a reusable treat that encourages critical thinking.

22. Fancy Crayon Pens

Practical but still cool. These crayon pens have multiple tips and encourage creativity.

23. Slap Bracelets

Slap bracelets were all the rage when I was a kid. Maybe they are outdated, or maybe, like many poor fashion trends of decades past, it’s time for them to come back!

24. Mini Play Dough

We usually make our own play dough, but pre-made mini play dough containers are a good alternative to candy!

25. Spooky Spider Rings

Another plastic toy, but when store-bought candy is at stake I’ll compromise. This kid pleaser adds to the spooky fun. Warning: they’re as bad as Legos … inevitably I end up stepping on them in bare feet around the house for months after.

26. Punch Balloons

I remember punching these with great glee as a kid (probably in the direction of my brother’s face). This perennial party favor comes in Halloween-themed colors and encourages kids to be active and have fun!

If You’re Going to Hand Out Candy…

Opt for pre-packaged treats from reputable companies who use organic or natural ingredients with few to no additives. These are my favorite healthier candy “compromises” since their ingredient lists are a lot less… scary!

What’s your policy on candy on Halloween? Which healthy Halloween treats would you like to see your kids bring home?

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/128061/healthy-halloween-treats/

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seniorbrief · 6 years ago

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16 Best and Worst Halloween Treats for Your Teeth

Best: Toys, school supplies, stickers, glow sticks, etc.

MG-PicturesProd/Shutterstock

Obviously, the least destructive treats are the ones that don’t go in the mouths (or shouldn’t): Play-Doh, pencils, small rubber balls, key chains, pocket games, plastic figures, bubbles, stickers, coloring books, crayons, glow sticks, chalk, fidget spinners, finger monsters, Legos, gliders, or erasers. Most can be found at your local party supply store. “We usually do candy, but one year we got party favors and it was such a hit with trick-or-treaters,” says Dr. Zuckerberg. “It’s nice to stand out, but never give toothbrushes or floss. You will get egged!”

After a few days, the novelty of the candy should wear off, says Dr. Zuckerberg. “Donate the leftovers to the needy or troops overseas through Operation Gratitude. Or try some of these other clever uses for leftover candy.

Original Source -> 16 Best and Worst Halloween Treats for Your Teeth

source https://www.seniorbrief.com/16-best-and-worst-halloween-treats-for-your-teeth/

#seniorbrief #seniors

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connorrenwick · 7 years ago

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Buzzfeed: 42 Gifts From Nordstrom For Every Single Person On Your List

Your one-stop shop for all your holiday needs — and maybe a few other things.

We hope you love the products we recommend! Just so you know, BuzzFeed may collect a share of sales from the links on this page. Oh, and FYI — prices are accurate and items in stock as of time of publication.

A plush hooded robe that’ll be the only monster they aren’t afraid of.

Price: $45. Available in children's sizes 2-20.

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A limited-edition collection of La Mer’s most popular products, including their Crème de la Mer moisturizing cream, treatment lotion, and eye concentrate to help hydrate, rejuvenate, and give your skin a youthful glow.

Promising Review: “I saw this and decided to order it for myself as an early Christmas present. I wouldn't even let my husband wrap it for me. I wanted to use it now! I love the way my skin feels after using La Mer. My skin has a tendency to be dry in the winter so I am loving the softness it brings. I plan on using it forever!” —Scarjo

Price: $85

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A canvas tote perfectly sized to fit their favorite bottle of wine or champagne, making it an ideal hostess gift.

Price: $25

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Uggs for everyone in the whole family — tiny booties for your adorable newborn nephew, a pair of rubber soled slippers for your dad who always complains about how cold his feet are, or some slip on slippers for your mom who is always running around the house.

Prices: Keelan Genuine Shearling Baby Bootie for $49.95 (available in children's sizes 0-5 months), Genuine Shearling Slipper for $119.95 (available in women's sizes 5-12 and in three colors), and the Ascot Suede Slipper for $109.95 (available in men's sizes 7-18 and in five colors).

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A long and cozy sweater to curl up with while you sip your favorite holiday cocktail and listen to the crackling of a roaring fire.

Promising Review: “I had seen several bloggers wearing this sweater and because of the overall fit and appearance I decided to order it. I was not disappointed. It is even more beautiful in person! It can be worn casually with jeans or dressed up for work. I love the feel and the fit. It is a great addition to my closet!” —AmyMP88

Price: $47.40 (originally $79). Available in four colors and in sizes XS-XL.

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A fleece-lined plaid shirt jacket for anyone looking to add warmth but not layers.

Price: $99. Available in three colors and in sizes S-XXL.

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A durable AF leather passport holder that’ll hold everything you need to get the f#@% outta here.

Price: $45

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A stunning pair of shoulder-length earrings to add that pop of color a cold winter so desperately needs.

Promising Review: “These are a stunning piece of jewelry. The bright color is a fun statement to toss on with a T-shirt and jeans.” —MIDIBU

Price: $48. Available in four colors.

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A pair of stemless copper plated glasses to help bring a little extra cheer to your eggnog this holiday season.

Price: $40

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A three-pack of socks that’ll be, without a doubt, a total thriller.

Price: $55

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A gift set of delicious treats like gummy bears, dark chocolate bars, chocolate-covered sea salt caramels and a bunch of other goodies so you can give in to your sweet tooth.

Price: $49

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A machine-washable monogrammed throw blanket, because you’re sick of Netflix and chilling — you want to Netflix and be warm damn, it!

Price: $59. Available in every letter.

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A super soft beanie with built-in headphones so you don’t have to worry about how you’re gonna listen to music when it’s cold out.

Promising Review: “My 12-year-old daughter loves this hat. It's fun, looks great, and it sounds good too. Very soft and definitely worth the money.” –skyesmom04

Price: $38. Available in six colors.

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A pair of sparkly AF Kate Spade earrings to help you add a little something-something to your holiday lewk.

Promising Review: “These earrings are the perfect gift for people who are hard to buy for; they come in different colors to compliment all complexions. They are beautifully made, a classic shape, and a classy, well-priced gift.” —CerritosFan

Price: $32. Available in three colors.

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A relaxing set with a soft AF eye mask and illuminating collagen eye patches to get gorgeous and rested eyes.

Price: $25

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An adorable and delicate monogram keepsake box to store all your favorite little pieces.

Price: $52. Availble in every letter.

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A chic print filled with all the legendary fashion icons, because your home deserves to be as stylish as you are.

Price: $75

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A pair of little Hunter rainboots for the tiny human in your life.

Promising Review: “We love these boots! My daughter loves when she can match her mommy! We always go up a size and usually can get two seasons out of them. Great purchase!” —TiffKick

Price: $55. Available in children's sizes 5M-13M and in three colors.

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A gorgeous and sophisticated aromatherapy diffuser designed with a built-in timer and automatic shut-off. Just add water and the essential oil of your choice to have a wonderfully relaxing and fragrant room.

Promising Review: “My husband and I love this diffuser! I love how it has a timer and is very easy to use. The colors change, which is also an awesome feature! The white cut-out part is ceramic and lightweight; it lifts off and you fill the center with water/essential oils. It does not make any loud noises so it makes a wonderful addition to our living room!” —LoveShayda

Price: $69.99

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A super cute Fitbit Flex 2 bangle that’ll hold and disguise your Flex 2 activity tracker while looking totally stylish.

Promising Review: “LOVE this bracelet. So light and easy to wear. I wear it both for fitness and everyday work or nights out. I prefer this bangle to other fitness bracelet options! I would highly recommend it!” —Princess28

Price: 59.98 (originally $89.95). Available in three colors.

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A fun and imagination-inspiring arts and crafts kit with over 1,200 supplies including beads, sequins, fuzzy sticks, pompoms, felt pieces, wooden dowels, floss, googly eyes, sticker-back jewels, wooden discs, craft sticks, scissors, needles and glue for anyone who just loves to DIY.

Promising Review: “THIS IS A DEAL. I go to the craft store all the time and no way in high heaven would you be able to get all this stuff (in quantity, quality, or variety), and it's organized to boot. The carrying case is sturdy and the thing just begs to be used. The kids can't keep their hands off of it and they are really spoiled children so that should tell you something.” —NinaDugan

Price: $39.99

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A deliciously fancy Sugarfina Bento Box full of Champagne Bears, Sparkle Pops, and Bubbly Bears to enjoy your sweet treats in the lap of luxury.

Price: $28

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A pair of cozy champagne-printed flannel pajamas so you have your Christmas morning outfit all figured out.

Promising Review: “I get a new pair of these PJs every Christmas. It’s become a family tradition. My daughter and I each pick out our favorite pattern for the year and open them up on Christmas Eve. They never disappoint in style, size, or fit.” —Judygwen

Price: $62. Available in 12 prints.

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A faux leather duffle bag for all your quick holiday getaways this winter.

Promising Review: “This bag is nice and spacious — plenty of room for a few days away. The color is gorgeous. The lining is a sort of animal print. And although it's not real leather, it still looks very nice and a great option if you don't want to pay for a full leather duffel.” —JulieL93

Price: $84.95

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A magical Diptyque candle scented like fir needles, hinoki, and mint to help your home smell like the holidays.

Promising Review: “Love love love Diptyque candles! This one is particularly yummy, and the unicorn is the perfect graphic for a limited edition. I will be keeping the glass as a drinking vessel when the candle is gone. Perfect holiday fragrance.” —lhlatx

Price: $70

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A set of glass coasters etched with your home state, because no matter where you are, you’ll always have a little piece of home with you.

Promising Review: “I bought the South Carolina ones for my best friend's birthday and she ADORES them! Said they're classy and look way fancier than the price tag would describe. Considering buying them in my home state!” —EmilyinNewYork

Price: $38. Available in all 50 states.

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A pair of festive pointy-toe mules for a perfect and super easy to wear holiday shoe.

Price: $195

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A practical AF Longchamp nylon and leather backpack to help you lug around all those things you just can’t leave the house without.

Promising Review: “My daughter is a world traveler and loves this backpack for hauling back her 'finds'. This one is absolutely perfect! I was shocked at the tiny size it folded into, the extremely light weight of it, and the color (I bought red) is amazing! Bright and classy.” —DogMom2018

Price: $83.75 (originally $125). Available in four colors.

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A water-resistant Barbour jacket, because the Queen of England wears Barbour, so maybe you should too?

Price: $249. Available in sizes S-XXL and in two colors.

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A plush set of cute toys for the future athlete who you don’t want to forget you once they hit it big — gotta ride somebody’s coattails.

Promising Review: “Very cute! It’s super soft and great for infants. Items are smaller and scaled to the baby. I don’t think you can really go wrong here with this purchase.” —ahwang

Price: $18.75 (originally $25).

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A mother f#@%ing Dyson Supersonic hair dryer designed to give high-velocity airflow so your hair dries faster without causing heat damage.

Use the magnetic attachments so you can adjust your dryer quickly and easily. It comes with a diffuser engineered to help reduce frizz and improve definition, a nearly silent motor, and negative ions to help eliminate static. This hairdryer is no joke. It's basically the hair-dryer of the future! Check out our in-depth review here!

Promising Review: “Amazing! I went from seven minutes down to less than three with this tool. Had two T3’s prior, so investing in a hair dryer was not foreign to me. The $1.26 per day is totally worth it!” —KVic

Price: $399.99

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A golden choker you’ll buy to wear to all your holiday gatherings but will end up wearing throughout the entire year.

Promising Review: “I bought this necklace as a gift for a woman in her mid-30's. She loved it. It is a beautiful piece of jewelry and priced right. The quality is very good.” —djinov

Price: $42

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A cozy colorblock turtleneck for all those chilly winter mornings when you don’t want to freeze to death but still want to look put together.

Price: $99. Available in two colors and in sizes XXS-XL and petite sizes XXS-L.

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A jeweled cat ear beanie I’m pawsitive will keep you warm all winter.

Promising Review: “I ordered the beanie for my daughter at Christmas time and she wears it all the time. I thought for sure the glued ears would unglue right away, but they are still in tacked. A wonderful addition to the collection of unique beanies my daughter loves.” —MKLadyLezcano

Price: $28. Available in three colors.

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A Kokeshi Doll designed to look like Ziggy, the guy who played guitar and really sang.

Price: $42

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A leather Rebecca Minkoff crossbody bag that’ll be totally worth the splurge because it’ll quickly become your every day, I cannot-leave-the-house-without-it bag.

Promising Review: “Great quality and perfect size. I wanted a crossbody that was medium size and could also be used as a ladylike bag without the chain. Exactly what I wanted and a great value.” —Kshort

Price: $295. Available in five colors.

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A iPhone 7 and 7 Plus leather case with a very practical little pocket so you don’t have to lug around everything, and the kitchen sink, when you just need to run out of the house.

Promising Review: “I have owned a lot of iPhone cases and this is definitely as good as it gets as far as quality materials and protection without adding bulk. Super sleek, nice leather, holds card securely etc.” —WWTY

Price: $49.99. Available in two colors.

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You IRL realizing you don’t have to actually go anywhere to get all your holiday shopping done.

The reviews for this post have been edited for length and clarity.

Al Howard Productions

Do your holiday shopping with BuzzFeed. Check out all of our gift guides here!

Allison Krausman / BuzzFeed

from Buzzfeed luxury: https://www.buzzfeed.com/elenamgarcia/amazing-gifts-to-get-at-nordstrom?utm_term=4ldqpia

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