#I sat down 2 days ago to sketch her as a warm up but it became this

[mothmp3]

You want STARS?

[jojosbizarrecandyland]

Chapter 2 : Drawin' Together

Previous chapter (Start)

Pages: 5 Words: 2,072 Summary: Joanne forms a bond with luke and she reveals her goals and reasons she runs a store all by herself.

The soft light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of Joanne's small candy shop, casting a golden glow across the closed-up storefront. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams of light, their movements slow and peaceful as they glided over rows of colorful jars, shelves packed with sweet delights, and the counter that had seen better days. The shop was closed for business, but its charm never faded, even when empty. A faint scent of sugar and cocoa lingered in the air, comforting and warm.

At the center of the shop, by a small round table that was more suited for customers enjoying sweets than for its current purpose, Joanne and Luke sat together, engrossed in their coloring books. The shop’s usual buzz was absent, replaced by the quiet scratches of crayons on paper and the occasional exchange of words. Joanne, with her wide, curious eyes, leaned over her coloring book, the pages filled with candy-themed illustrations that she was diligently bringing to life with vibrant hues.

Luke, on the other hand, had chosen a different approach. He wasn’t simply coloring; he was drafting, sketching in a meticulous, almost mechanical manner. His page, once a simple landscape of a park, had morphed into a series of architectural designs, complete with dimensions and annotations. His fingers moved swiftly, tracing blueprints for a building that seemed plucked from a futuristic cityscape, the lines precise, the concept intricate.

Joanne looked over at him, curious about the strange, almost methodical way he was drawing. She picked up a few crayons from the box between them and handed them to Luke, her fingers brushing his lightly as she smiled.

"So… what's your Stand?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with genuine interest. She'd seen him use it before, though the memory was a bit hazy. "I saw it make your body turn into… stuff. Like machines, right?"

Luke glanced up from his drawing, his brow furrowed in concentration as his fingers continued to move across the page. For a moment, he didn’t answer, as if he were lost in thought or maybe considering how best to explain something so personal. Finally, he stopped sketching and placed his crayon down carefully.

“My Stand?” Luke began, his voice calm but tinged with a certain pride. “It’s called Revolution. But I call it Revo… or Reva.” As he spoke, three small, mechanical creatures materialized near his shoulder. They were tiny, barely the size of Ferris wheels, with their bodies made up of floating gears and cogs. They whirred softly, hovering near him like miniature guardians.

Joanne’s eyes widened as she watched them float, their metallic surfaces catching the light in an almost hypnotic way. Luke shrugged as if their presence was as normal as the coloring books in front of them.

“I got it a couple of years ago,” he continued, his tone growing a little quieter, “when I was in the hospital.”

The admission was said so nonchalantly, but there was weight behind it—weight that Joanne didn’t miss. She didn't pry further, respecting whatever memories lay beneath those words. Instead, she nodded as Luke continued.

“Revo allows me to turn parts of my body into robotic pieces,” he explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Kind of like those giant mechas you see in manga. I can transform my arms or legs into huge machines if I need to.” His voice dropped slightly. “It’s… useful. What about yours?”

Joanne straightened up, eager to share. She had always liked talking about her Stand, even though she had never met many people who could actually understand what having one meant. Luke was different. He was like her.

“My Stand is called Lollipop,” Joanne said, gesturing to her side, where her Stand manifested in the form of a tall, humanoid figure. The figure had magenta skin and heart-shaped hair, resembling a teenager not much older than Joanne herself. The Stand, sucking on a large, colorful lollipop, handed Joanne a piece of taffy without a word.

“I call her Poppy,” Joanne continued, popping the candy into her mouth with a smile. “She can turn ordinary things into lollipops. I think I’ve had her for as long as I can remember, but I don’t know exactly when she came into my life. It just feels like she’s always been there.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by the simplicity yet uniqueness of Joanne’s Stand. Turning things into candy seemed like such a harmless power, especially when compared to his own ability to morph into a destructive force. It made Joanne seem even more innocent in his eyes.

“I’m sorry again about attacking you that day,” Joanne added quickly, her face flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity. “I didn’t know you had a Stand too. I’ve never met anyone else like me before. It’s kind of fun, though!” She giggled, her laughter light and infectious.

Luke couldn’t help but blush, his face reddening at how adorable she sounded. Her laughter was soft and melodic, the kind that seemed to chase away the shadows. His chest tightened with unfamiliar warmth, but he tried to maintain his composure, covering his mouth as if trying to suppress a grin.

“W-well,” he stammered, “there are plenty of people out there with Stands, you know. You should be careful. Not all of them are friendly, and some could try to hurt you for less.” His voice, although shaky, was tinged with a protective edge.

Joanne’s smile faltered, her brows knitting together at the thought of that. She hadn’t really considered the danger. Her Stand, after all, was more whimsical than powerful. All Poppy could do was turn objects into candy—nothing that could protect her in a fight. Her lips pursed in worry.

“I guess I didn’t think about that…” she admitted, her voice softening as reality began to sink in. “I’ll try to work harder so I don’t get hurt.”

Luke’s eyes widened as he realized he had caused her to worry. His heart raced, and he immediately began to fret, his hands fidgeting nervously.

“B-but don’t worry, Jojo!” he stuttered, the nickname slipping out before he could stop himself. “I-I said I’d help, remember? As long as I’m around, I can help protect you! Okay?” His voice grew more confident as he spoke, as if reassuring her was reassuring himself as well.

Joanne’s eyes sparkled with hope, and she looked at Luke with an expression of pure gratitude. “Really, Luke? You’d do that for me?”

Luke scratched the back of his head, looking away as his face turned a deeper shade of red. “Yeah… why not?”

Without warning, Joanne reached over and hugged him tightly, her arms wrapping around him as she buried her face in his shoulder. Luke froze, his face burning with embarrassment as his mind raced.

“O-okay, cut it out!” he mumbled, awkwardly patting her back before gently prying her off. He looked around the shop, desperate for a distraction from the awkwardness of the moment.

“Why are you running this place, anyway?” Luke asked, hoping to change the subject.

Joanne’s expression shifted, her excitement dimming as her tone softened. “Well…”

She hesitated, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes lowered to her hands. Luke noticed the sudden change in her demeanor and stopped coloring, his full attention now on her.

“My parents went missing,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “So I take care of the shop. It’s the only way I can afford to keep our house.”

Luke’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that. Joanne was always so cheerful, so full of energy, that he hadn’t imagined she was carrying such a heavy burden. He set his crayon down, his face twisting into an expression of concern.

“Where are your mommy and daddy, Jo?” he asked softly.

Joanne’s lower lip quivered as a single tear escaped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, refusing to let it show how much it hurt. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I’m going to find them.”

“Find them?” Luke repeated, his brow furrowing. “But… you’re just a kid. Why haven’t you called the police?”

“I tried,” Joanne said, her voice cracking. “But they… they tried to take me away from my home.” Her childlike mind couldn’t fully comprehend the situation, but she knew one thing for sure: the police had wanted to place her in foster care or send her to some third-party home. They hadn’t understood that she didn’t need their help. She needed her parents.

“I’m going to find them,” she repeated, her resolve hardening. “And pretty soon, I’ll have just enough money to do that. No one has tried to help me, so I’ve had to do everything by myself.” Her voice broke as she spoke, the weight of her loneliness finally slipping through.

Luke watched her, his own heart aching in a way he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t have parents either, and even though he was just a young boy, he didn’t want Joanne to go through what he had. He clenched his fists, determination swelling inside him.

“You don’t have to look alone anymore,” Luke said firmly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “I’ll help you.”

Joanne looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’d help me?”

Luke nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah… I’ll help you find your mommy and daddy. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Joanne’s face lit up with hope, and she reached out to grab his hands, squeezing them tightly. “Oh, Luke! Thank you! I promise, when we find them, you can eat at the candy shop for free! For life!”

Her excitement was contagious, and despite himself, Luke couldn’t help but smile. Joanne’s joy was infectious, and for a moment, the weight of their problems seemed to lift. They were just two kids in a candy shop, coloring and dreaming of a brighter future.

And as the sun began to set outside, casting long shadows across the empty store, Luke realized something: no matter how tough things got, he wasn’t going to let Joanne face them alone.

As Luke helped Joanne lock up the candy shop, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town in a soft twilight. He pocketed the shop's keys, glancing around the quiet street. Joanne adjusted her backpack, and the two began their walk toward her home, their steps echoing in the stillness of the evening.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of watchful eyes followed their every move. Sitting at the edge of the street, half-hidden in the shadows, was a dog. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary mutt—just another stray wandering the town in search of scraps. But there was something bizarre, almost unsettling, about this animal.

It was an older-looking rough collie, its fur long and unkempt, with patches of graying brown and white. Its gaze was unnervingly focused, far more intelligent than any ordinary dog. Its head tilted slightly, ears perked up, as if it understood far more than a simple animal should.

The dog remained perfectly still as Luke and Joanne passed by, its eyes never leaving them. Though it stayed rooted to the spot, there was an eerie sense of purpose in its presence—a silent observer waiting for something. Neither Luke nor Joanne noticed it, too caught up in their conversation, but the dog didn’t move, blending back into the shadows as they disappeared around the corner.

For a moment, the street fell into silence again, but the rough collie stood there, watching.

Joanne pressed a finger to her chin, her brow furrowed with concern. "You really think other Stand users are gonna come after us?"

Luke let out a small sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well, duh," he muttered, glancing off to the side. "I think, um, you know how, like, birds know their way home even when they've never been there? It's like... a brain magnet or something."

Joanne tilted her head, still trying to piece together what Luke was saying.

Luke continued, "I think people with Stands have that. Like, we're sorta drawn to each other without even thinking about it. So yeah, other Stand users might show up, and not all of them are gonna be friendly."

Joanne's eyes widened, and she gave a small nod, the weight of Luke's words sinking in.

[nomoreusername]

Silent Coffee Dates (Part 2)

Pairing:Sonya x female reader

Summary:As you spend more time at her house, you find yourself truly warming up to Sonya.

Eating at someone else's house was weird to say the least. I've had dinner with Chuck before, but I was watching him. Plus, his parents always kept something specifically for me. From little candies to entire meals, they wouldn't take no for a answer when it came to food. There really wasn't a choice. I certainly wasn't going to waste it, and they refused to touch it. Eventually though they become my second family so I wasn't as worried about it.

Sonya and I have an extremely different relationship. I guess you could call us friends but only while we're in the coffee shop. It was a mutual agreement that we sat there together no matter how empty the place was.

Now I was sleeping over at her house. Not only that, I was accepting an entire meal from here. It wasn't just a frozen t.v dinner either or something you could easily buy for a good few bucks at the store. This was an entire meal that her brother and her had enjoyed less than an hour ago. That's how I ended up eating pasta in their clean, almost magazine perfect living room in complete and awkward silence. It was a much different atmosphere than our little bubble in the coffee shop.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"She suddenly offered. I just shrugged as I fixated on the ground. Despite the way I had focused on her so intently and how half of my sketchbook was just drawings of her, looking at her in her own home was different. It wasn't in a way I could quite explain, but I am more than aware of the goosebumps it left on my arm.

"Where's your sink?"I settled on, putting my fork on the plate.

"I've got it,"She waved me off. Before I could get another word out she took it from my hands leaving me with her brother. If I remember correctly his name is Newt. Not that it matters. Being alone with someone new always brought a fear in my heart that I couldn't quite explain.

"So uh, you two seem close?"He asked, or stated. I couldn't quite tell, but I don't know if it's because I'm not good at reading people or if he did that on purpose.

"Yeah. We're friends,"I nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

"You don't seem to talk to her much,"He pointed out.

"We've never had a conversation before,"I admitted, individually cracking my knuckles to give me something else to focus on. When I popped all ten of my fingers I moved on to my ankle.

"That sounds painful,"He mumbled.

"It's not,"I shook my head, internally wishing Sonya was back already.

"So how do you really know her?"He questioned. Taking a breath, I decided to look him in the eyes. His hair, despite still being blonde, was a shade darker than hers. He didn't have those small, barely noticeable freckles like Sonya either. His eyes were more of a soft, almost golden brown while Sonya's were more of a light hazel. Despite the little things the resemblance was clear as day.

Then, he furrowed his eyebrows which let me know I had been staring. Shaking my head, I looked back at the ground.

"We sit at this coffee shop together. She reads, and I draw,"I answered

"What do you draw?"He asked quickly.

"Just scenery, houses, and people."

"Who do you draw?"He continued interigating. My face flushed as I thought about whether or not to lie. Would he find me odd if I admitted how often I would sketch Sonya?

It's just that she's so perfect. Whether her hair is down, cascading down her back, or in a braid over her shoulder, there was no reason not to get every lock just right. Her eyes, invested in a book, or glazed over as she stared out a window, always shone brighter than a sun every could. Her lips, in a barely there smile as she kept reading, a small frown as she seemed deep in thought, of pursed as she went over an assignment, were another effortlessly gorgeous feature. Even when she was half asleep, she was always so pretty.

"I'm back so Y/N, let's head up to my room,"Sonya said, walking in and thankfully ruining whatever was happening with Newt. Without hesitation I followed her up the stairs while still looking away from her brother.

Sonya's P.O.V

I genuinely thought that maybe my brother and friend could like each other. That's why after I put the plate in the dishwasher I stayed around the corner and waited to see if a little bit of time alone would make them warm up to each other. To my disappointment it seemed to be the opposite. Newt was questioning her like a police officer while Y/N was almost dead silent as she answered his questions. I kept waiting and eavesdropping a little longer. When Newt asked what she drew I assumed she might be more than willing to talk about her talent. Unfortunately, there was complete silence. Realizing that it wasn't happening any time soon I walked in the room and invited Y/N up to mine, while setting an internal reminder to tell Newt off for acting like she was some kind of criminal.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We had settled on an old kids film, and to be honest I couldn't help but glance over every other second to see if she was enjoying it. To my relief she was more invested in Coraline than I had ever seen someone be.

"Why do you think the other mother is the way she is? We have theories from the cat, but why do you think she takes all the children? Does she just like the power? Is that what actually feeds her or would loneliness kill her the way it could kill some animals?"She rambled, sitting up and looking at me. Her eyes seemed to have lit up even more than they had during the movie as she seemed to be trying to make sense of it all. I couldn't help but laugh at how different and admittedly adorable she was when it came to something she enjoyed.

"Sorry,"She murmured, looking ready to shut down again.

"No, no, no. You just look cute when you're happy,"I absentmindedly said. In the dim lights shining through my window I saw her face turn a light shade of pink.

"I'm happy when I'm with you at that coffee shop,"She admitted. This time it was my face that heated up.

"Yeah. I'm happy when I'm with you too,"I agreed.

"That means a lot to me. I'm not good with people, but you never make me talk. It's nice to have someone who's truly just there for your presence. Do you know what I mean?"She asked.

"Yeah. I usually hate silence, because it can be uncomfortable, but it's nice to be able to have a real friendship without that kind of pressure,"I nodded.

The thing is that I didn't realize how much this meant to me until I said it. Y/N truly is my favorite part of the weekend. Being with her is the only time that I can actually unwind. Everyone needs that kind of special person in their life, and I'm happy that she's mine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I don't know how long we had been up watching stop motion films. She was more than into them though so I didn't mind. My guess is that the art part of them is what had her so invested. When I found out she hadn't even seen them as well, it was obvious that we needed to binge them.

Halfway through The Nightmare Before Christmas I felt her head on my shoulder. I glanced over to see her eyes shut as her breathing evened out.

Being careful not to wake her I shut the television off before laying her down so her head was on an actual pillow. Pulling the blankets over both of us, I got some sleep of my own right beside her.

All Parts

[dearkusuo]

Unchanging

Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.6k

You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.

“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed. 

Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.

You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.

The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along. 

They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.

You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.

Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.

Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.

You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers. 

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun. 

You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.

You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future. 

Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret. 

You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.

He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.

 You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.

‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.

You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.

The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.

“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.

‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.

“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”

Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.

For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him. 

You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.

Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.

You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again. 

 The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.

‘Why are you laughing?’

“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.

‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’

You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.

You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.

‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’

He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.

"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."

'It should be fine if it's you.'

You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.

You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.

‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’

“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'

You pursed your lips in uncertainty.

"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."

'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’

You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.

“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”

‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’

You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

‘Thank you.’

Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook. 

“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”

‘I know.’

He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”

You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.

“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.

‘Violet.’

“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”

‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’

“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.

Saiki shook his head.

“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”

You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.

‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’

Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.

Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face. 

You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.

Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.

Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.

“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”

Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.

“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”

You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.

“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.

A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”

“An indefinite amount of time.”

“Are you ever coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Their glum faces only worsened your mood.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.

No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.

Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.

After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”

You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.

The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.

“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.

You could never say no to him.

Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit. 

You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.

‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.

You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.

He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.

He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.

“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.

What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?

Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum. 

Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision? 

Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.

Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.

Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.

 You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.

Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.

You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out. 

It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.

The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.

"There he is."

The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.

He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.

"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.

You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home. 

Neither one of you let go.

"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.

A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.

He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes. 

"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.

Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.

'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'

“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.

‘Not quite.’

Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.

'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.

“I love you.”

He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.

‘I know.’

Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.

You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.

No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession

Chapter 2: Do the Right Thing

song suggestion: Divisionary (Do the Right Thing)- Ages and Ages

The gathering broke up pretty soon after that so things could get done. Alby and Newt started showing the girl around together while Minho went to collect his cot for her. Gally went to the gardening shed and started taking out some things to make room for it. His mind was blue as he scribbled white lines of architecture on it, preplanning what he could do that would be structurally sound, safe, and almost defend-able.

Alby said the bonfire was still on for that night so the boys could let out their excitement, but this was the first one Gally planned to sit out. He was going to get a working blue print, list the materials and put the steps in order, then he was going straight to bed so he could get an early start. He looked across the Glade and spotted her near the kitchen getting a snack from Frypan. He noticed that since she became more resigned to her fate, her expression had flattened out until it was like she had none. No emotions played on her features as she ate, listened to Alby and Newt and was blatantly ogled by boys everywhere.

She said something to Alby, he nodded, and she spoke again. Alby looked around and his gaze came to a halt on Gally, one brow raised in a mix of mild surprise and confusion. Gally tried to be nonchalant as he nodded to Alby, playing it off as giving him a sign it was going well, then he turned away, hoping he’d be left alone. His face felt a little hotter and he wondered what she might have said, but he wasn’t going to do anything to find out.

He stood at his work table, paper and pencil’s littering it as well as his dishes from dinner. He was doing the finishing touches by candle light when Alby came up to him.

“It’s weird not having you in the circle on bonfire night,” he commented.

Gally stared at him a little apprehensively, not used to him making small talk. “Yeah, well.”

“Listen,” Alby went on, leaning on his work table and peering over his sketches. “She asked to start her working rounds with the builders, she said that she should help since this is all because of her,” Alby said as he gestured at all the blueprints and lists on the table.

Gally froze. For one that was pretty shucking decent of her, but on the other hand he was not ready to babysit her first, probably not ever. “You told her no, right?” Gally asked him, trying not to sound hopeful but make it a firm statement.

“I tried,” Alby admitted as he rolled a pencil across the table. “I tried to tell her that it would be hard work and you’d be busy trying to get it done quickly, but she was pretty adamant that she do something to help.”

Gally sighed. It was admirable but annoying.

“Look, just give her something simple to do, something that will take her a while and keep her out of your hair most of the time, just let her do something. I think… I think she felt a little guilty about all the work you had to do for her.”

Right, girls had feelings. Gally hadn’t meant to make her feel bad, he wasn’t even complaining, he was just stating the facts and trying to convey the time restraints he’d be under to get it done in time for her to be comfortable.

“Alright, fine,” he mumbled.

Alby laughed. “Don’t be such a shank about it! Acting all mad that the first girl to show up picked you first.”

“She didn’t pick me,” Gally refuted even as he felt his cheeks go warm. “She’s just trying to be responsible. Which is something we need more of around here,” he said as his gaze roamed over the boys whooping it up at the bonfire. He guessed she wouldn’t be anywhere near that, probably went to bed early. After all, the first day usually came with a massive headache.

“Ah whatever man,” Alby slapped him on the shoulder before taking steps back toward the action. “I hope you don’t get too attached to her tomorrow, she has other rounds to make, remember that. You can’t keep her," his words reminding Gally of the rule the keepers made without her around to hear.

Gally didn’t even respond to that, he just turned back to his work and gathered up his papers in meticulous order and weighed them down with a rock before putting all his pencils and such away in their jar. He strayed to the bonfire for one drink, telling himself it was to help him get to sleep faster, knowing it was really to calm his nerves.

He was the only one up with the sun that morning. He didn’t wake up any of builders yet even though they deserved it for goofing off at the bonfire when they knew a hard days work was waiting for them. He took the opportunity to have some peace and quiet, time alone to really picture what it was he was going to do.

He thought he had picked a good spot for it, close enough to food and the bathrooms that she wouldn’t have to go far if she got up in the middle of the night, but far enough to avoid the sound of the kitchen and the smell of the outhouses. She’d get plenty of shade here without anyone being able to use the trees to get into her house.

Satisfied with the location he measured and marked off the area. Luckily he had been planning on building a house on stilts before this and set aside the things he’d need for it as they had come along. Pretty lucky, he thought as he ran a hand over his short hair, looking up at the place where her house would be, imagining it there in detail.

“Morning,” came a small voice behind him.

He was glad he hadn't visibly startled as he turned around and saw the girl sleepily rubbing her eyes as she walked up. For some reason he didn’t have a response to that, it felt too intimate to say ‘good morning’, he never said that to any of the boys, so he just nodded at her.

“This where it’s going?” she asked as she looked at the markers.

Suddenly Gally was questioning what he had been so sure of a second ago. “Do you not want it here?” he asked her, looking around, hoping someone else was awake by now so he wasn’t alone with her.

“Honestly that was a dumb question for me to ask, obviously that’s what’s going on,” she admitted as she gestured at the plot. “And yes, this is perfectly fine location.”

She was standing about three feet away from him, but they were otherwise shoulder to shoulder facing the plot and it took on this weird feeling that it was their project. A silence sat between them for a moment.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all this trouble for-“

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Gally cut her off, he kept his eyes on the plot even when he could tell she had turned to look at him. Why had he blurted that out so fast? “It’s just something that needs done, not like it’s your fault or anything,” he shrugged to try and keep it casual. He couldn’t explain why, but he didn’t want her to feel bad on top of everything else she must be feeling.

“Might not be my fault, but I’m still the cause,” she pointed out after she considered him for a beat. Then she placed her fists on her hips. “Well, where do we start?”

@gladerscake @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @poulterholland @anniemylennox @poulterjonas @carp3d1em @neilox

I've started to make them a little bit lyric inspired but it's kind of hard atm because they're still strangers, but I think Divisionary with it's line of "Do the right thing, do the right thing, do it all the time, do it all the time" is SO Gally, so therefore it's his song this chapter as he tries to do the right thing for her.

Btw, since everyone in the Glade has a name given to them by Wicked, I was going to give her a real name instead of YN, so let me know about any historical figures you think she should be named after. In Garden of Heathen I named the girl Aussie after Jane Austen since she wasn't a genius but she had the highest emotional IQ, and then in The Reason I named the girl Nikola after Tesla.

If you want updates without following me you can always follow the tag "Will Poulter protection squad" because I'm pretty sure I'm the only one using it and from now on I'll put it in the fic tags.

Possession Masterlist

[mizunetzu]

my request is flaaaaaacidddddd peeeeenisssss

Flaaaaaaaciddddd peeeenisssss

——————

Iida x reader - Iida Tenya’s Imaginary Boyfriend (True Ending)

⚠️warnings - good ending HAHAGQ

Pronouns - male, he/him

Part one can be found here!

Part two can be found here!

——————

He woke up in recovery girls office.

He wasn’t sure how he got here. All he remembered was his head feeling a bit faint walking back to the dorms, then waking up here. Looking out the windows, vast colors of orange and yellow flooded in between the cracks of the blinds, making colorful stripes paint his bed with light. He presumed it was around sunset.

The door clicked open. Recovery girl, Aizawa, and detective Tsukauchi walked through the door.

“Do you know where you are right now, Iida?” Aizawa was frank, as usual.

“I believe I am in recovery girls office, though I have no clue how I got here.”

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. “You were hit with a villains quirk about 2 days ago. You’ve been asleep ever since. It caused you to go in a nightmare-ish dream state until we caught them.”

Iida retrieved his glasses from the bedside table. It was then he realized he was in his pajamas. Aizawa stepped forward. “What’s your full name?”

“Iida Tenya.”

“How old are you and what school do you go to?”

“15 years old and I attend UA high school.”

Aizawa hummed. Nothing seemed to be wrong with his memory. “Do you know what day it is?”

“March 17...no, 19? Forgive me, it’s somewhere between there.”

“Iida,” Aizawa looked confused. It made Iida feel sort of uneasy aswell. Like getting a problem wrong and having your teacher be disappointed in you. “That’s almost a full month away. It’s February 3rd today.”

February 3rd. If Iida recalled correctly, that was around the day that everyone seemed to forget that (Y/n) existed. He checked his wrists out of habit. (Y/n’s) watch were gone. He was about to ask where it was, when the detective clicked his tongue.

“Well-thats to be expected,” Tsukauchi held up a case file, most likely a report on the criminal who used their quirk on Iida. “Time passes differently in the quirk-induced coma Iida-san was in. Some people affected by them claim it’s been years when it’s only been a couple of days. Truly terrifying.”

Recovery girl tutted. “All of his vitals seem to be in check. He should be able to return to the dorms now. Just have him take it easy for a couple days in training.”

“Mm. Make sure you make up your missed work,” Aizawa turned back, as Tsukauchi exited the office and recovery girl sat in her desk. “And tell your classmates you’re alright. Your friends were freaking out when you wouldn’t wake up in the morning. They should be in the dorms by now.”

Iida nodded.

———

Walking back to the dorms, there was one thing Iida couldn’t get off his mind.

He’s been in a ‘quirk-induced coma’ for 2 days. The passage of time is different with their quirk as to real life. And he could’ve sworn it was late March instead of early February.

So when did he fall asleep? And what was his ‘dream’ about?

He, at first, thought it was the result of walking home with his friends after seeing that sketch artist Kaitekina, but that doesn’t happen until almost a full month later. So, most of the things Iida remembers doing and learning in class has not happened yet.

And, nightmare? He remembers falling asleep and seeing (Y/n) in his dreams, but that doesn’t fall under ‘nightmare’ territory. Actually, it was rather pleasant.

“Oi! Iida’s awake!” He heard Kirishima yell, as he walked through the door. Most everyone was in the common room, and turned their heads. Each one of them erupted into a smile, saying things like “are you ok?” Or “glad to see you awake, Iida-san!”

He, unintentionally, tuned them all out.

What was his ‘nightmare?’ What made his dreams about a boy who doesn’t exist so bad? Was he waking up in his dream just to go to bed in that dream to dream another dream? What-

“-and (L/n) was so worried bro! I mean-he looked ok like usual but I guess he doesn’t really go out of his room unless you force him t-“

“I’m sorry, who?” Iida’s disbelieving voice sharply cut off Kaminari’s ramblings. He didn’t hear that correctly. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.

“...bro...” Looks of worry or confusion flooded the 1A students. Similar to when they looked at him like he was insane, asking for a non-existent student named (L/n) (Y/n).

Kaminari awkwardly chuckled. “(L/n)...? Your personal hype man? Dude who follows you around like a dog?”

“Kaminari-that was mean, he does not follow Iida around like a dog.”

“But he does!”

A playful argument rang out between Jirou and Kaminari. Everyone’s attention seemed to shift from Iida, to Jirou blasting her heartbeat into Kaminaris ears with her ear jacks.

“Iida-kun, are you okay..?” Midoryia brought Iida out of his trance. “Did you lose your memory or something while you were asleep?”

“No no I just-I probably misheard Kaminari-kun. Who was he talking about?” His voice was wavering. His desperation hidden behind the glare of his thick cut glasses and messy bed hair. He needed to comb his hair once he sorted things out.

“(L/n) (Y/n)-kun?” There it’s was again. “He sits next to you in class? You...oh! You two fought in the sports festival? And...yknow...the whole,” Midoryia stuck out his tongue making a mask with his hands and pretending to lick someone’s blood. “-thing?”

Everytime he asked who he fought in the sports festival, everyone including Midoryia would say “Hatsume-san, Ibara-san, and Todoroki-kun.” He never recalled fighting someone named “Ibara” from class 1B, having fought (Y/n) instead, but he grew to just accepting it.

And when he asked about the Stain incident, Todoroki and Midoryia would claim it was just them three fighting him. There was no one with (h/c) hair that helped Midoryia, him, and Todoroki out immensely. As far as Iida was concerned, (L/n) (Y/n) did not exist to the world.

So why was everyone talking like he was a real person?

“Iida, if you really don’t remember, you should go get that checked out by recovery girl...it’s pretty odd that you forgot about your own classma-“

The sudden startup of engines, followed by the whirring hiss of smoke trailing past him cut Midoryia off. Iida burned through the pants of his pajamas, but he didn’t care. He ran as fast as he could to the 4th floor of the boys side of the dorms.

His heart quickened with every step he took. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up, but the obvious look of desperation on Iida’s face seemed to lead his thoughts. He needed to see for himself.

Skidding to a halt infront of the supposedly empty dorm room, he once again halted when he reached for the doorknob. Everytime he’d check this room on impulse, he was always met with the empty, white walls and drawn curtains supplied by the school. He didn’t want to walk in and face white again.

And he didn’t.

Almost taking the door off the hinges, Iida practically shoved the door out of his way. A small gasp ripped its way through Iida’s throat.

A dimly lit room, one that was never kept clean, that had an oddly sweet smell coming from it. He saw the vaguely familiar (f/c) bedsheets, with the sea blue comforter thrown lazily on it, half slipping onto the ground. He saw the messily taped Ingenium posters, crooked and wonky, plastered on his studying table, which was almost never used for studying. When they studied together, it was usually on Iida’s bed or somewhere outside.

But finally, he saw the patio slider door opened, curtains fluttering in the mellow orange sunlight with someone standing outside. They were leaning on the balcony, with their arms stretching up, the reflection of their cheap red watch burning light into Iida’s eyes.

“(L/n)...kun...?” The name felt foreign on his lips. Even if he technically ‘saw him two days/one month ago’, it felt like years since he’s actually felt like he was in the same room as him. The boy, (Y/n), turned around.

Setting sunlight painted his face with warm colors, making the (h/c) shade of his hair burn brighter. The light also seemed to reflect off the (e/c) iris’ of (Y/n’s) face, making it look like it was glowing. It lit his face well enough to make him seem ethereal. Breathtaking. Real.

It was him. It was (Y/n).

“Morning, Tenya. How’s it feel to be asleep for two days?”

Iida didn’t answer. Instead, he walked tentatively towards the patio sliding entrance, his burnt pajama pants cinching his calves now that his adrenaline high was subsiding. He stopped a few inches way from (Y/n), reaching out and shakily touching his cheek.

Instead of fazing through him, or flat out fading, his hand made contact with warm, soft skin. (Y/n) hummed and nuzzled his cheek into his hand. Iida’s vision blurred involuntarily, despite him having his glasses on.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

His voice’s vibration, and the warm breath that fanned his chest was enough proof that he was here. Enough proof he was dragged down back to earth, no longer just a distant memory no one remembered.

Iida’s throat closed up, and he felt his knees go weak. He was a blurred mass of (h/c) and (skin/c), with the hint of red that protruded from his arm, but Iida knew he was still there. He was there, with him, and would be going on until forever.

A tender, hoarse chuckle escaped Iida. He leaned his cheek onto (Y/n’s) forehead, not caring that his face and bed hair was still messy and reeked of sleep. He smiled.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, (Y/n)-kun.”

——————

Haha. That was fun. Anyways-

[test-tube]

Not So Harmless Sweetie

Author's Note: thanks for the lovely brainrot @starfell-traveler also this was really fun!! i had to cut it a bit since i couldn't come up with any more activities and the only suggestions i recieved were arson /j

Pairings: Sucrose x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1087

TW: Explosions

Adventures With Klee

Albedo's out on an expedition deep in Dragonspine so Sucrose and I are on Klee-watching duty. It's only for a few days, how hard could it be?

Day 1- Klee nearly exploded Sucrose's garden today. Nothing was destroyed, but it gave Sucrose a heart attack.

"Watch out!"

BOOM

"Don't touch that-"

BOOM

"Klee!"

BOOM

Sucrose gave a slight sigh of defeat. She looked at you with a pleading look.

You smiled and walked over to the Spark Knight. "Klee? Sweetheart, I think that's enough playing with Jumpty Dumpty for today."

"Awww, okay..." The little girl handed you her bag and walked over to the mint haired alchemist. "I'm sowwy for exploding things in your lab."

"Oh, it's- um." Sucrose patted the girl's hat. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay..."

Day 2- Klee was kept in solitary confinement with Jean today, (something about exploding fish in Starfell Lake?) so Sucrose and I tidied up the place.

You cleared spare papers off the shelves, occasionally stopping to read a few. "So..." You said in an attempt of conversation. "The Tetritan- Tetratanic sweet flower?"

The alchemist became a slight shade of pink. "It's just a little something for the Windblume festival." Her voice seemed to shrink with her confidence.

"You think you could tell me about it sweetie?"

"I-if you're really interested, sure!"

The two of you sat down with the paper in hand, though it soon laid forgotten to the side as Sucrose ranted on the flower.

"The seeds are four times bigger than ordinary Sweet Flowers, and the Tetratanic Sweet Flower is the final product! Bigger, stronger, sweeter, and more beautiful-" She yelped to a stop. "Sorry, sorry I'm rambling."

"I thought it was cute. You get all enthusiastic." You respond, making Sucrose's gaze try to look anywhere else.

Day 3- Klee has returned from solitary confinement and wishes to draw. I am no Albedo, but I will try my best.

Klee returned as if she hadn't left at all. Despite her time in confinement she still remained a little ball of energy. She reached into her bag and you became afraid. You didn't have the energy to play with Jumpty Dumpty today. You feel relief when she grabs a pad of paper and coloring tools.

"Can we do some sketches?" She asked, giving you puppy dog eyes.

"Alright, alright. Don't bring out the doll eyes." You reprimanded. "What are we sketching today?"

"Traveler and Paimon!" Klee shouted excitedly. She turned around and waved to the Traveler and their fairy companion.

"Hey...Paimon was told there would be food." The pixie said.

"I'll pay you with a Sunshine Sprat later." You promise.

Sucrose tried to insist she wasn't one for drawing but turns out you had a similar effect on her as Klee did on you, she just couldn't say no. In about thirty minutes or so you help a big reveal and showed off your portraits.

"Hey! Paimon isn't emergency food!" The pixie sputtered in indignance after acknowledging your canvas.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." You replied sheepishly.

Day 4- Today we must accompany Klee into the woods...what could she be hiding in here? She just keeps calling it "my treasure"...should I be worried?

"It should be right over here!" Klee said as she skipped over rocks and roots.

"What exactly is it?" Sucrose mused.

"It's a surprise treasure!" Klee giggled. "C'mon!"

You sprinted through Wolvendom trying to keep up with the Spark Knight. She halted to a stop in front of a pile of dirt with a sign sticking out of it.

"Tada! My treasure's in here!"

Sucrose blew the dirt off with her Vision and Klee dragged out the small box.

"When Bennett, Razor and I were adventuring a few days ago, we found these plants and thought Ms. Sucrose would like to see them." She opened the box that held Glaze Lilies and Silk Flowers. "Bennett said they were from Liyu-Liyue!" Klee said proudly.

Sucrose started to tear up. She dropped on her knees and hugged the kid. "Awww Klee!" You joined in on the hug and spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the flora.

Day 5- The afternoon of the day was calm, merely Sucrose and I teaching Klee to read.

"A long, long time ago, in the fo-forest?" Klee struggled to read the purple book in her hands. She looked at you for confirmation.

"Very good, you're doing great." You applauded.

She smiled and looked back down at the book. "In the forest kingdom...what leg dends?"

You snickered a little and pulled Klee onto your lap. She pouted a little at the sight of your face. You shook your head. "No, no sweetie I'm not laughing at you, I promise. That word is legends, okay?"

Klee nodded and yawned. "Can we finish later? Klee's eyes hurt."

"Of course," You said. Within seconds the girl was snoozing, her head leaning against your chest. Her tiny snores eventually lulled you to sleep.

Sucrose walked over in the night, spending a few minutes to capture the sight of the heartwarming scene. She squeezed beside you and joined the group hug formation of the nap, her head leaning against yours.

You woke up before the other two, smiling. The alchemist still had her glasses on, her breathe short and sweet. Klee had curled into you, trying to keep warm.

Tomorrow Albedo was to return, and your family would be complete.

Day 6- Albedo returned today, and Klee couldn't have been any more excited. She insisted on showing Albedo everything we did, though she left out the solitary confinement...

"Brother Albedo!" Klee exclaimed. She jumped onto the Chief Alchemist in a hug, which Albedo quickly accepted. "Why did you have to go for so looong?"

"It was only a couple days Klee."

"But it felt like forever!" The young girl complained. Her expression switched from sad to ecstatic in a snap. "You're back now though, I want to show you the things we did!"

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her collection from the week; the Jumpty Dumpty Sucrose helped her make, the sketch of Traveler and Paimon, the small box of flowers, and she then made the alchemist sit down.

"Mx. Y/N and Ms. Sucrose taught Klee how to read! Listen!" She picked up the book and sat down. "A long, long time ago, in the forest kingdom... What legends occurred there?"

Albedo smiled and patted the girl's head. "My, my, you have been busy."

[random-mha-thoughts]

Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie!  I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it.  Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits.  It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains.  I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting.  Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts.  Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack.  Unsurprisingly, none of it works.  The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now.  I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already.  Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter.  "You're up too, hmm~?  Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store.  "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice.  "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night.  Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go.  It's super creepy!"  She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them.  I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand.  Not like I had anything better to do.  What was I gonna do, sleep?  Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself.  "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes.  "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with.  "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work.  I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands.  "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her.  "I want your heart, Toga.  Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off.  "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks.  My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head.  Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off.  It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off.  "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago.  Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway.  He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child."  He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM.  "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness.  "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips.  "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far."  I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you.  Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around."  His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head.  "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed.  Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave.  I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual.  I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up.  But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference.  I started thinking there was something in the tea.

.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said.  He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen.  "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up.  "Am I bothering you?  I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?"  It was an unexpected question.  He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us.  He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack.  He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling.  The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities.  They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches.  "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy.  "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen.  Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated.  I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines.  I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface.  If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment.  The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy.  I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want.  Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way.  I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep.  In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body.  It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable.  It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite.  He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother.  I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest.  If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth.  "I was lonely before I found these guys.  I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk.  "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup."  He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly.  "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all!  Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile.  "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time.  The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay.  You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way.  And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me.  You can't see it now, but it's there.  Keep fighting through it."  He touched my hand over the glass.  "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents.  "You'd be a great Dad, Twice."  I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response.  "I've always wanted a kid.  Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine.  "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with.  "Let it out, kid.  Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me.  Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed.  "Hey.  If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes.  Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store.  The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes.  I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing."  I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most.  Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura.  "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up.  "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we?  Us damn human can't help but think.  It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up.  "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone?  We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long.  It never ends well."  He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck.  "We all got demons, kid.  It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first.  And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point.  I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for.  I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

[emu-lumberjack]

A Quick Meeting Pt. 1

Damian is in Paris as an exchange student when an Akuma strikes he runs in to help as a civilian. that is until something catches his eye.

-----------------------------

ok here's my literal first time writing a oneshot or any sort of fic so I did my best, the grammar probably isn’t great but I think its pretty good. Anyway this idea just came to me so enjoy! Also thanks @ozmav for the inspiration from you Maribat au!

Read part 2 here

Part 3 here

Part 4 here

Edit: Read both parts on Ao3,

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually miss Drake.” Damian Wayne's tired voice moaned in the phone, “it’s so boring here, no one to bicker with and no crime to fight.” The youngest Wayne had been in Paris for two days for his exchange program, Bruce thought it was a good idea for the boy to actually go and experience a normal teenage life.

There was a loud snicker on the other end of the line, “Oh I’m sure it couldn’t be that bad Damian, I mean they have some of the best pastries ever.” Damian could practically hear the boys stomach growl, “speaking of which while you’re there you have to check out the Dupain-Cheng bakery, it’s not the biggest one in town but dad brought back some of their macaroons one time and they were the best I’d ever had.”

“I’ll take the suggestion Jon, might as well do something while I’m here.” Damian was just about to make another quip about how it was too sunny when panicked screams filled the air, “I’ve gotta go talk later.” He hung up the phone to the protests of Jon and started running towards the center of chaos.

He got to the Eiffel Tower cursing Bruce for not letting him bring the robin suit, nevertheless he started helping people get out of the way. Something this big could not be good for civilians. As he was helping one young woman up he noticed a girl in red and black spandex running on the rooftops coming his way. He was taken aback. Paris doesn’t have heroes he thought with a start. She mesmerized him, with her flips and twirls is she a Grayson? Now that was a terrifying thought. He was so captivated by her he didn’t even notice the huge chunk of concrete that was flying his way until it was falling right above him, he braced for impact until someone tackled him out of the way. The roll on the ground made small rips in his clothing but overall he wasn’t harmed, they came to a stop with Damian laying below someone with his hands pinned above his head. He looked up to see the girl in red. Her bluebell eyes were shining from behind the mask she wore, her blue-black hair was in pigtails with ribbon coming from them, Damian blushed.

“I was handling it, I didn’t need your help.” He said cooly, he may not have been in costume but he didn’t need her help.

“Yeah because a giant concrete slab almost crushing you is, how did you put it, having things under control.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, it was enough to make Damian laugh.

“Ok, ok you’ve got me there, but I can handle myself. There are other civilians who need your help more than I do.” He looked back at her and holy shit she’s beautiful. He had noticed her beauty before but on a second pass he saw how her eyes were dancing with amusement while still holding concern over his well being.

“Civilians? Interesting choice of words.”

Damian cursed himself, civilians was a vigilante word, not one most normal people would’ve used in this situation.

The girl was about to ask him another question when the round thing at her waist gave off a ring. The male voice came through saying “Ladybug where are you, this isn’t really the purrfect time to ditch me.” Both she and Damian let out a sigh at the bad pun, she grabbed the device and said “I’m on my way Chat, got sidetracked by a civilian in danger, but apparently he can handle himself.” Her partner might not have picked up on the mockery but Damian did. Normally he’d be offended but something about her made him know she meant it all in jest.

“Ok I’ve gotta get going and so should you. There’s an akuma shelter two blocks that way,” she pointed “I’d suggest getting there as fast as you can. Bugout!” With that she was gone, and Damian was looking at empty space with  starstruck eyes.

-----------------------

  Marinette sat at the back of the room pointedly ignoring the crowd below. Lila was telling some tale or another about how she “knew the Waynes personally after all she gets invited to the gala every year.” Alya the ever faithful servant looked up at Marinette and said “see how good Lila is! She even gets invited to the Wayne gala, why do you insist on bullying her.” Marinette just ignored her continuing to sketch in her book. Well sketch and think.

The boy with dark hair was still on her mind, and Marinette was really wishing she had gotten his name. Not that Marinette Dupain-Cheng could just start talking to him out of the blue, that’d give away her identity as Ladybug. Maybe though Marinette could’ve just bumped into him “accidently” of course. She really hoped he had found that akuma shelter even though he said he could handle himself, the fact he had been standing there still as a statue as a cement slab came flying towards him wasn’t really a vote of confidence. She kept seeing his piercing green eyes when they looked into hers, first with shock then with something else. She blushed a little bit at that particular thought.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts she didn’t notice her former friend was next to her until she put her hand down on the sketchbook, right above the silhouette Marinette had been drawing of the black haired boy.   “Have you even been listening to a word I’ve said Marinette? Seriously how could you be so rude?” Alya said sharply.

       “In fact Alya I was not, if it was important you should know to tap me while I’m sketching otherwise I won't hear you, since I get so into it.” Marinette responded calmly, turning to look at her former friend.

         “Well if that’s the case then your sketchbook is just gonna have to go until you  learn some manners Meanette.” Alya grabbed her note book and started moving back towards Lila.

“Hey give it back.” Marinette said, leaping up from her seat. She was a pacifist but drew the line at having her stuff stolen. She went down to where Alya was to try and get back her sketchbook when Alya just held it higher. Marinette jumped to try and get it and Alya just moved her hand, eventually throwing it to Kim, then Rose, until the entire class was in on the giant game of keep away. Each student would tear a page a little bit every time they got the book until the pages were barely even stuck to the binding anymore. Marinette bounced between them trying to grab her book back but each student kept it clearly out of her reach, Chloe and Adrien were both out sick so there was no one else to help Marinette get her book back. The game ended when Lila threw the book at the door. Hard. so when it made contact with the opening door. All the pages flew out and scattered around the door frame.

Marinette was holding back tears as she went near the door to start gathering up the papers mentally planning to call her mom in order to go home early. She reached out blindly to pages closer to a door when a calloused hand met her own.

“Here. Let me help.” He said, his voice kind and warm.

“Thank…. Thank you.” she sniffled out, the tears were becoming harder and harder to hide.

Soon they had picked up all the papers, the class long forgotten. Marinette and the boy stood up, she was about to thank him again when familiar green eyes looked into hers and all the words she was about to say got stuck in her throat. She tried stuttering out a few sentences, her face turning red. Thankfully he looked as stunned as she was. Does he know I’m her? Marinette thought.

“I’m Damian.” He finally said although his voice was a little less confident than it was a few minutes ago.

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She responded.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Monday 25 February 1839

7 25

12 5

several snow showers early in the morning so that the ground whitened over at 7 25 – F38 ½° inside at 8 25 and 39 ½° outside at 9 5 the sun out and upon the thermometers – breakfast at 9 10 to after sat reading with A- chapter 4 Keppel Cravens’ Abruzzi – not worth much? but better than nothing about these places we hope soon to visit – looking over before breakfast 2nd bureau drawer for meer levels etc. – after breakfast looked over Mr. Harpers’ papers – found SW-‘s pencil sketch of meer and levels – sill 4in. above by wash (vide 20 January 1838 Mr. Bull’s levelling made it 13 3/10 in. above the bywash) – Had Joseph Mann a few minutes between 11 and 12 – 3 to 4 packs of ground clay will be wanted tomorrow and 6 flue bricks and about 20 fire ditto for the new boiler house – and 20 throughs and about a rood of outsides – the pit being full of water (the colliery not in working order on new years’ day when the Manns signed could not get down till 24 January) Mr. Lewis Alexander said the Manns were no more bound than he was – advised them not to near Mr. Freeman or his attorney Mr. Hingham any more – thought the Manns would hear no more of the business – sent off John Booth a minute or 2 after 12 with my note to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam solicitors Halifax’ in answer to Mr. P’s note received last night – begged him to inform Messrs. Norris and Rudd that having paid the amount of Mr. Bull’s ill into Mr. P-‘s hands sometime ago and having instructed him to pay the bill so soon as Mr. Bull should have communicated to him the difference of level between the sill and the bywash, I considered the delay of payment to be occasioned not by me, but by Mr. Bull’s tardiness in giving the information above named – then dawdling over 1 thing or other – had A- a few minutes till 1 – gave her to take down into her room Schreibers’ Rhine – she had this morning before got my large case map of Italy – and yesterday my large cart du Rhine – her face troubles her – and is worse in point of disagreeable feeling than last winter – she has made up her mind to winter from home in Italy probably next winter, dans tous les cas – wrote all the above of today till 1 10 – then with Robert the joiner – had Joseph Mann – he came for job-cart – must go for fire bricks etc. this afternoon – sent off Sam for them – out with A- at 2 ½ - we walked to Listerwick and back – a few drops of hail – and in front of the house 1 ¼ hour till 3 ¾ A-‘s feet warmed and she the better for the exercise – left her at 3 ¾ and I went to Sunwood quarry – Mr. Lee and his man quarrying there the 1st time of my finding them there and 1st time of seeing Mr. Lee – then to Lane woods quarry on to the baring – Robert Mann + 3 (Jack Green, William Lord, and Ben) there baring – sometime talking to Robert – 2 men to be baring tomorrow and Robert and one to finish upper conery walling behind the garden house – sometime in the farmyard and about there – Joseph Mann brought home for me 4 or 5 6ft. 1/2in. boards I found left at the back Lodge gate – came in at 6 ½ - dressed dinner at 6 ¾ - A- read French – A- read aloud chapter 5 Keppel Cravens’ Abruzzi vol.1 – wrote the last 9 ½ lines till now 10 pm – wild, cold day – occasionally flying showers of sleet and hail – then read to myself chapter 5 Keppel Craven vol. 1 interesting account of Claudius’ emissary to let off the waters of the Fucine lakes (till went to bed at 10 ¾) – F40 ½° inside at 10 55 and 32° outside at 11 ¼ pm

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 2

Oh, look, there more! :D Second chapter for my Ryn/Red 20s AU brought you by @shepherds-of-haven ‘s summer event 

------

True to his word, Red called just a couple days later--with supremely perfect timing, too; Xaeryn had just returned from following a lead. She was in the process of unpinning her hat when the telephone rang and she ll but dove across the room, hatpin in hand, to answer it.

“Shrike Investigations,” she said with that borderline-cheerful professionalism people expected from anyone running a business.

“Xaeryn?” He sounded curious verging on concerned. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, hittin’ on all eight,” she assured him with a breathless laugh. “I just got back from chasing down a lead.” She left off how literal that was this time as she glared at the mud on her shoes. “He was... more help than he meant to be, I think. I’m just grateful it didn’t turn into another dead-end.”

Red laughed. “Glad to hear it.” The line crackled a bit in the moment’s silence before he continued, “I had a chance to do some research, turned up a few interesting things.”

Generally interesting, or Red-interesting? Xaeryn wondered with a fond smile, remembering his fascination with even the minutiae of everything he read. “Like what?” 

“At least some of what happened to the pendent after the Solimer lost it, and it’s a bit of a mess.” He laughed again, sheepishly this time, and Xaeryn pictured him running a hand through his hair. “It’s better explained in person. Should I come to you--”

“I’ll come there,” Xaeryn offered. “You’re doing me a favor, it’s the least I can do. And besides” --she grinned, even knowing he couldn’t see her-- “it’s a long drive and I wouldn’t want you to forget any of your notes.”

There was a long-suffering sigh, punctuated by a chuckle that made the line pop. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“No more than you let me live down the apple tree,” she retorted sweetly. “Does it work for me to come today? The guild’s getting antsy with the exhibit date drawing closer, but if you’re busy...”

“I have a lecture in... just under an hour.” Red paused, likely doing the same travel time vs lecture time calculations she was. “If you left soon, you’d probably get here just as I’m finishing, we could talk after?”

“Sounds good to me,” Xaeryn said scraping mud off her shoe against the chair leg. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, then.”

“Mm, see you then.”

She took a moment examining her shoes after they hung up and decided it would be best to change them before she left. Wouldn’t want to be tracking mud through Solhadur’s halls.

---

She couldn’t entirely bite back a laugh when she arrived and found Red behind his desk, the pencil woven between his fingers tapping against one of the three books open across the desk’s surface. “Well, I just lost a five lyss wager.”

“Huh?” His hair fell in his eyes when he looked up. “Over what?”

Xaeryn smiled as she leaned against the edge of the desk. “I was certain you would get carried away with jawing about whatever your lecture was on and I would be here first. Fortunately it was a wager with myself” --she leaned over to peek at what he was reading--”so there’s no real loss.”

Red laughed and nudged one of the books toward her. “Normally you would have won. I thought of something I wanted to double-check before you got here, so I made sure to end on time. The students thank you for that, by the way.”

She snickered and skimmed through the presented history text. “They’re most welcome. What did you learn?”

Red pushed out of his chair and circled the desk to give them the same angle on the book she held. “There’s a decade or so immediately after its loss that’s unaccounted for, but there are records from travelers who mention encountering a warlord deep in Jalis territory with a pendent that sounds an awful lot like Solimer’s torch. Here.” He leaned over to flip a few pages back from where she was and pointed at a sketched illustration.

While rudimentary in nature, it did bear a striking resemblance to the photographs Mr. Syndran had given her. Xaeryn hummed a quiet agreement, noting the sketched pendent seemed to be on an armband rather than loose as it was now, as she started reading the relevant text around the illustration. 

“Lean on details,” she frowned, tracing a finger over the words as she read.

“That one is,” Red agreed. “They were more concerned with other things, barely mention the pendent in their description of the warlord. It’s just the only one with an illustration.” He tugged the book away from her, swapped it for one of the others. “Going off the description, I think this is the same piece. But you can draw your own conclusions.” He sat in one of the chairs and Xaeryn stayed perched on the edge of the desk, one foot swinging idly a few inches off the ground as she read.

From the sound of it--bronze coiled around a jet black stone, said to be its owner’s lucky talisman--she was inclined to agree with Red.  The territory of this warlord, however, was rather far from the usual routes ascribed to the Solimer’s desert travels. How did it get there? she mused. Likely during the decade it had vanished, but she couldn’t even begin to guess the method. She’ was just finishing with the account when she caught Red smiling out of the corner of her eye.

She let the book dip to look at him instead. “What?”

Red’s eyes twinkled as he nodded at the hem of her mid-calf skirt. “That lead you mentioned chasing earlier wouldn’t have involved mud puddles, would it?”

Xaeryn followed his gaze and groaned at the mud staining the dusky rose fabric. “I wasn’t expecting him to run,” she muttered, flicking at the mud with one hand as she moved to the other chair.

“Your suspects usually just wait around, obligingly, for you to interrogate them, then?” 

She rolled  her eyes at his teasing tone and briefly debated whacking him with the book. “He wasn’t a suspect, he was a witness,” she retorted primly, setting the book back on his desk. “Potentially. Though with how cagey he was being, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was guilty of something.”

“A mystery for another day,” Red said with a grin.

“Precisely. As for today’s mystery, have you found anything more recent than this?” She tapped the book. “It’s still several hundred years ago.”

“Not much, and some of it’s contradictory; that’s part of why I said in person was better.” He ran one hand through his hair. “That territory is so deep in the Jalis desert, not many go there and come out again. Those who don’t live there frequently die visiting.”

“Charming place,” Xaeryn said dryly.

“Mmhm. It makes getting records difficult, to say the least. There’s a mention of this warlord’s territory being conquered by another, but no mention of what was taken as potential spoils, and the next thing I’ve found resembling Solimer’s torch is is when it was discovered in the grave of a different chieftain, name unknown--though there are theories--a hundred years ago and almost two hundred miles from where the nearest previous records indicated it being.”

“How’s a chieftain’s name unknown?” she frowned. 

“He was buried with the honors afforded warlords and chieftains, but any record of his identity had worn off in the desert wind, if it was there in the first place,” Red explained.

“And these theories about who he was?” 

“Numerous and with various levels of support,” he said wryly. “But if you want the longer version...?”

Xaeryn chuckled. “Always.” 

They spent the next hour or so discussing the myriad guesses people had made as to this mystery chieftain’s name, as well as the other details Red had unearthed about the pendent, and various sources’ credibility. They only got caught up in one or two rabbit trails of good-natured debate over peer review and scholarly reputation or historical patterns of desert travel. (Which was pretty good for them.)

“There are a lot of gaps,” Red acknowledged, thumbing the pages of one book. “But I have a lot more I can read to help with filling them in.” He twirled one hand to gesture at the shelves that lined the room.

“You don’t have to-”

“Xaeryn, have you ever known me to be unhappy reading a book?” he asked with a warm smile.

“Well, no,” Xaeryn laughed. “But you’re so busy now, Headmaster.”

Red arched a brow but didn’t further protest her use of the title. “I always have time for you,” he said with a shrug, then cleared his throat and pushed to his feet even as her heart pounded and she sternly informed herself he hadn’t meant it like that. (She was grateful his circling the desk meant he missed the moment of broken composure that surely flashed across her face.) “And research is even more fun when it’s for a purpose. Bottom line for you so far...” He picked up his dropped pencil and started shuffling through everything on his desk in search of paper.

She grinned and held out her notepad. “Here.”

He flashed a sheepish smile as he took it. “Thank you.” He flipped to the first blank page and started writing as he talked. “Descendants of either that unknown chieftain or the one whose wife originally found the torch would have the strongest claims of ownership.”

“If I can find them,” Xaeryn said dryly. “And if one of them’s not already the owner on record who lent the pendent to the exhibit.” She bit her lower lip. “I think I need to talk to Mr. Syndran again.”

And depending on what he told her, her own research into genealogy might be called for.

“Probably your best next step.” Red finished writing and handed back her notepad, several pages scrawled with bullet-points summation of what he’d found.  “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Xaeryn smiled when she saw the notes were in their shorthand.  “Nice touch.”

He smiled and raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It takes less space, and you did say this is a secret...”

“Very true.” She flipped the pad closed and tucked it back in her handbag. “I really do appreciate your help, this wasn’t a a small request, and you got me some answers in very short order.”

“I’m not done reading, Xaeryn,” Red said, voice rife with amusement. He waved at the surrounding shelves again. “Like I said, there’s a lot more to check.”

I always have time for you.

“As long as you don’t mind, I would love to hear anything else you learn,” Xaeryn said with a smile. Far be it from her to stand between Liefred Antiqua and a research project he was excited about. She’d sooner snatch an ice cream away from a child. 

“I’ll call if I find anything else useful,” Red promised, already shifting toward one bookshelf.

She nodded, biting back a laugh and hoping he had a very loose definition of the word ‘useful’. “I’ll look forward to that, then.” Her neck and ears warmed and she hastily added, “more information is always helpful.” She stood, flicking at the stubborn mud on her skirt again. Next time she went interview-hunting, she was wearing trousers. “Though you have me off to an excellent start.” She headed for the door, paused with her hand on the knob. “Thank you for that, Liefred.”

“Anytime.” He leaned against the corner of his desk. “You can still call me Red, y’know, Xaeryn. Everyone does, so it’s hardly going to seem too familiar.”

True as that might be here at Solhadur, Haven was a different story. And she wouldn’t want to slip up. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Xaeryn said softly. “Until next time?”

“Mm-hm.” Something flickered in his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck, then flashed her an easy smile. “I’ll look forward to it, then. I’m glad we reconnected.”

She smiled back as she twisted the knob. “Me, too.”

She didn’t have many friends, it was good to get one of the best ones back.

---

It was edging toward evening when Xaeryn made it back to her office. Which made it a bit of a surprise --fortuitous as it was-- to find Mr. Syndran waiting for her.

“Did we have a meeting I forgot about?” she asked apologetically as she unlocked the door. (They hadn’t, she was positive, but it was a diplomatic way of probing for why he was here.)

“We did not,” Mr. Syndran replied, arching a brow in a knowing look. “I had some other business in the area and decided to stop by in person to see how you are coming along, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn laughed and gestured toward the same chair he’d sat in on his first visit. “Then you have very good timing, instincts, or both, Mr. Syndran. I had some things I wanted to ask you; background information.”

His brow creased ever so slightly. “Should you not be far beyond mere background information? Have you not made progress?”

She sighed and sat in her chair behind the desk, pulling her notepad from her handbag and turning to a blank page. “Not of the ‘I’ve narrowed it down to two blocks, I just don’t know which house’ variety, no.” She tapped her pen against the desk. “But I have leads on suspects.”

Syndran gave a grunt that may have been displeasure. “And your questions for me?”

“Like I said; clarifying background information. When the Couriers were contracted to handle transport, how much were you told about the pieces?”

“Only the relevant details.” He brushed invisible lint off his sleeve. “Each one’s value, recorded owner, any special care instructions.”

Xaeryn nodded, pen poised over her pad. “I don’t suppose you recall the owner listed for the pendent?”

He paused to think a moment. “I’d have to have my secretary check to be completely certain, but I believe it was a Ms. Aescar. The name didn’t ring any bells for me.”

“And would I need to speak with the Hall of History and Culture if I wanted to find out how to contact her, or do you know?”

Syndran shook his head. “Whitestone Couriers were merely transporting the relics, Miss Shrike. Any communication with the owners was the concern of the museum curators. Why would you need to talk to her?”

“I might not,” Xaeryn said, scribbling the information down. “I just like to have all my chickens in the coop ahead of time, so there’s no scrambling if something winds up time-sensitive down the road.”

“Smart.” Syndran gave a nod of approval. “So long as you don’t spend so much time preparing for unlikely eventualities that you lose more promising leads.”

She back back a tart ‘I know how to do my job’ and nodded. “Of course.”

He paused a moment, lips pursed in thought. “I did have a wonder, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn cocked her head. “Oh?”

“Given the... likelihood this theft occurred somewhere between city customs and the museum and the utter lack of details my drivers have been able to provide about that stretch of the journey” --his expression soured-- “would it be possible for you to... revisit the scene with your abilities?” His brows arched meaningfully.  “You are Argentis, are you not? The benefit of hindsight might allow you to pick up on something relevant that didn’t register in the moment for my people.”

She tapped her pen against her notepad. “I can give it a go, Mr. Syndran, but I’m more a Scryer than a Sage; my strongest talent is finding things in the present, not viewing the past. Though this is the recent past,” she mused. “Perhaps recent enough that with a focus from the caravan I’d have decent luck.”

“I’ll see what I can find for you.” Mr. Syndran pushed to his feet. “Anything in particular that will work best?”

“For viewing the past like this... something from the event is necessary, and the closer to central it is, the clearer a picture I’ll be able to get.” She leaned back in her chair. “Frankly, if you don’t mind my doing so, coming to the Couriers’ garage and using one of the trucks as my touchstone would work best.”

“Oh, that’s very doable,” he said with a nod. “As it’s getting late, what say we do it tomorrow?”

“Nine AM?” Xaeryn suggested.

“Acceptable.” He headed for the door. “I shall see you then, Miss Shrike.”

“See you then, Mr. Syndran.” Xaeryn waited until the door closed behind him to let out a slow breath. Scrying was easy enough, even if she didn’t always succeed, but peering into the past was usually a draining exercise for her. Mr. Syndran was correct, though; it was very likely the best way to glean new leads. Even if it meant she’d need a nap after.

She pushed to her feet and locked the door. One more glance over her notes before she called it a night. So it was fresh in her mind and she could mull it over.

She tried not to get too distracted by the difference between her small, crowded shorthand and Red’s larger, loose scrawl--he had a dreamer’s handwriting, which she’d teased him about when they were younger(he’d rolled his eyes but hadn’t denied it). The memory had her smiling all through dinner.

---

The weather was nice enough the next day Xaeryn opted to walk to the Whitestone Couriers’ garage, though she did take an umbrella in case the rain that hadn’t threatened the last few days decided to make an appearance. Mr. Syndran was waiting for her, looking all the more proper in these rough-shod surroundings. 

“Right on time, Miss Shrike,” he said with a tight smile. “This way.” He led her at a brisk pace to a gleaming black truck, the canvas cover a near-immaculate tan. “This is the one that was carrying the crate with the pendent, among other things.”

“Right.” Xaeryn circled to the passenger side, letting her fingers trail over the cool metal until they rested on the door. “I can’t make any promises, but let’s see if we can find anything useful.”

She pressed her hand flat against the side of the truck and murmured the correct ritual, felt her magic rise to do as she bade.

The scene around her--Mr. Syndran, the garage, everything but the truck--faded into shadow. Her view shifted, as if she were riding shotgun in the truck or hanging out the window as it crept through Haven’s streets. Tings were flickery and dim, the colors bled out and faded as she looked around. I don’t know how long I can hold this. Xaeryn peered intently at  what she could see of the surroundings, the other vehicles, the people, buildings, noting everything she could, no matter how mundane. A woman with a red hat, brim hiding most of her face. A young boy and his dog watching the caravan with interest. A man with vivid green eye and a small smile lounging against a wall, following the trucks’ progress from under his slouched cap. The cat that almost darted in front of the preceding truck before it spooked. The flapper with an armful of bracelets, glancing surreptitiously across the street-

The scene flickered sharply, her grasp on the ritual fading, the images slipping away--

And Xaeryn was back in the garage, leaning against the truck as her knees went to jelly. The few prior occasions she’d played the sage had left her feeling like she stood up too fast when they ended, and this was no exception.

“Are you alright, Miss Shrike?” Mr. Syndran gestured to a nearby worker who’d stopped to gawp and the man scuttled off.

“Just fine,” she said with a nod, turning to sit on the truck’s running board as she tugged out her notepad and rapidly scrawled out everything she’d seen. “Sage work can be taxing if it’s not your main talent, that’s all.”

He watched in silence as she scribbled down the vision’s contents, only speaking again when she finished. “Did you see anything of note?”

“Nothing too blatant, or it would have stood out even to the drivers,” Xaeryn said, leaning her head back against the truck. “But there were some passers-by that caught my attention...”

Mr. Syndran listened to her descriptions with utmost focus, but interrupted when she reached the green-eyes lounger. “Do you remember any other details about him?” he demanded, his hands twitching to a fractionally tighter grip on the head of his walking stick.

“Tall,” Xaeryn said slowly. The worker Syndran had sent away returned with a tumbler of water, which she accepted with a nod of thanks as she dug through the memory. “I think brown hair, but he was wearing a hat. Bright red vest, blue and green scarf ‘round his neck-”

“Thieves guild,” Syndran muttered. Despite the distaste on the words, a panther-like grin curved his lips. “I should have known.” The distaste shifted to satisfaction. “That would be your next lead, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn arched a brow. “Do tell.”

“Thieves guild has been a thorn in our side for years,” Syndran explained, “They aren’t even a true guild; more a loose association of ruffians and cutpurses who only call themselves such in another jape at legitimate businesses.” He sniffed. “They make their base in the warrened streets of Ashtown, but I believe I have worked out where their true headquarters are concealed. I can give you some direction, if you’re recovered enough to follow me to my office?”

She nodded, pushed to her feet. “Lead the way.”

It was good to have something tangible to pursue. Hopefully the weather would hold so she could follow it up now. Ashtown was no fun in the rain.

[feminaexlux]

Hot Chocolate

Merry Christmases & Happy New Years & Happy Valentineses, and Happy Super Belated Birthdays to @fenheart87 and @mamanabeille and @motherofwoofers AND @MAL HAH (I’m so bad at this) 😹😿🧡

This was a Christmas exchange for LBSC for @mamanabeille and I hope it’s cute at least if not massively overdue o m g

On AO3 here!

⁂

Marinette wasn't sure how she strung the words together into a coherent enough sentence to convince Luka to take a walk with her on a lightly snowing afternoon, cruising for a little café to find some hot chocolate together. He probably understood most of what she'd been trying to say (or ramble, more likely) since they'd been friends for years.

Actually now that she thought about it, it probably hadn't been coherent at all, but Luka came along anyway because they were friends.

Friends. Close friends? Close enough that she loved his company with his generally good natured chillness and kissing his face with little bises in thanks.

They'd always been comfortable with casual intimacy like that. She always felt so… warm and comfortable with him near. That must have been the reason she was so panicked when she heard from him that he'd be leaving a few days after Christmas to tour with the one and only Jagged Stone as lead guitarist at age 19. It was huge for him, Marinette knew that. But to face that sudden dearth of his presence made her uneasy, to say the least.

It had gotten to the point where she forgot about making a Christmas gift for Adrien. She'd just repurpose one of her many Adrien Birthday gifts, so that wasn't too bad. But she wanted to make something important for Luka. Something that would hopefully show him just how much he meant to Marinette. And maybe it'd be something for him to remember her by.

She had been up all night working on Luka's Present. Well, she'd been up late a couple of nights working on it. She maybe had about 8 hours of sleep in the past 3-4 days.

Kitty Section had wanted to throw one last hurrah for Luka "moving up in the world", and along with it a mini-concert for Christmas and New Year's for their closest friends. Marinette had shown up late to the Liberty and nearly fell overboard crossing the gangplank but Luka had sprinted forward and caught her.

She blamed her unsteadiness for holding onto him the next couple of minutes after that. He kept an arm around her shoulder and they'd been just fine. She was warm. She was comfortable. The GirlSquad™️ that were present gave her looks. Marinette pretended that she didn't notice.

As it turned out the Liberty had run out of coffee. Marinette had rambled on that she preferred hot chocolate anyway and that she'd go out and get some while Kitty Section was just setting up. At least, that had been what she was trying to say, but it turned out she'd said something else that convinced Luka that he'd have to accompany her.

Or maybe it was because she was still a little wobbly. So she held onto his arm on their walk to find some hot chocolate. Luka didn't seem to mind. She slipped on something icy and instinctively threw her arms around him to steady herself. "Oh God I'm so so sorry," she squeaked.

"Are you alright?" He looked concerned but had on a smile. "Hey, let's find somewhere to sit down for a bit."

"Noooo, no I'm okay," she said hurriedly. "I don't wanna make you miss the party."

"They can deal," Luka shrugged.

"But it's for you! It's important!" It was important, wasn't it? Marinette was a little sleep-drunk, but her mind had registered this party as "For Luka" so it was automatically labeled IMPORTANT with big red letters and underlined 3 times.

"You're more important to me," he said quietly.

For some reason, Marinette giggled. "I know," she said, squeezing him tight. "But this is for you so I want everything to go right and have it be spectacular!"

He laughed. "The party is just for close friends, you know that, right?"

"It's for you," Marinette said. She straightened herself up and stepped back, having realized after the fact that she'd been talking to him all this time with her arms around him. "It's… it's for you and you're gonna be… gonna be with Jagged and people will notice you and you'll become a big star, I can… I can feel it!" She'd gotten wobbly again, and she hadn't even noticed that she'd been waving her arms to emphasize her points so hard that she'd lost her footing. She slipped again and landed on her butt. "Oof!"

"Alright, we're finding a place to sit down now," Luka decided. He took her hands and helped her to her feet, wrapping one arm around her shoulder again. "Hold onto me," he said.

Marinette giggled again. "Always," she mumbled, wrapping her arms around him tight. Luka stopped for a heartbeat but pressed on. He found a bench along the Seine that they could rest at for a few minutes. He sat her down first, then stood in front of her with a hand on her shoulder to make sure she was steady.

"Looks like there's a café nearby. Let me get you something warm, alright? I'll be a few minutes."

"Mmkay," she said sleepily.

He chuckled. "Try not to fall asleep out here. Are you cold?"

"No, I'm alright," she yawned. "I'll be awake, promise," she smiled, looking up at him. He did look a tiny bit concerned (a little like he doubted her to be honest) but then jogged off. Marinette let her focus soften and turned her head up to the light snow, the chill helping to keep her awake. She felt a few flakes land on her cheeks and closed her eyes just for a second, the white clouds fading out to black.

The heat from where he had held her had radiated out, leaving her colder than she liked. She wanted him back so she could lean herself against him and feel him near. Ugh, she was soooo close to dozing off. She shook her head and patted her cheeks, dusting off the snow that had started to cover her.

She better keep herself busy. She pulled out her phone and was momentarily confused. She wasn't so sure what made her upset staring at her phone until her brain unfuzzed after a few seconds. Her phone backsplash was of Adrien Agreste and it didn't feel right… She needed to change that. She went into her settings and tried to find a good replacement picture. She did think Adrien was cute and all, but… her tastes had… well, they weren't quite the same anymore. She had barely thought about Adrien until now. That background had just been… there, static, as the scenery for ages.

She found herself being embarrassed scrolling through her photos. Her most recent pictures had been selfies with her friends and pictures of her crafts or baking. Anything more than a year ago had mostly been pictures she stole off the internet of Adrien. He'd definitely grown more handsome over time she had to admit, but it was… kind of cringey just how many pictures she had of him. She started deleting the Adrien pictures that hadn't been taken by her or her friends. It just didn't have the same appeal anymore.

As she kept going further back in time in her photos she saw sketches of the prototype kittycorn masks she had made for Kitty Section. Wow she really needed to update those sketches, and maybe she could ask Luka if he wanted a custom logo? If he did she needed to go back and tweak some of his Christmas presents, but it'd be worth it to see Luka's reaction.

Marinette desperately hoped he'd like what she made for him.

She'd been setting her phone background to the pink and blue lightning bolt of Luka's kittycorn mask when he came back with 2 takeout cups. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Thank you," she smiled up at him. She took the cup that was offered to her, then wedged the cup in between her thighs to take off her gloves to feel the warmth more directly. She picked the cup back up and loved that feeling of the heat suffusing into her hands. She leaned in and smelled the hot chocolate.

He sat down next to her and had taken the lid off of his… she couldn't really smell what it was but he did have whipped cream on top of that drink. He took a sip and got some of that cream on the tip of his nose and on his lips.

Before he was able to wipe it away, and before even Marinette knew what she'd been doing, she reached out and wiped her thumb across his lips and licked off the stolen cream from her finger.

Then, because she still wasn't thinking about it, she did the same with the whipped cream on his nose when he turned to face her, giggling after mentally adding a boop. Ugh, it was that cream that came out of an aerosol can. Too much air, not enough body. "What'd you get?" she asked. She noticed his eyes were pretty wide, and she hadn't fathomed what had surprised him except maybe the drink?

"Uh…" he trailed off, looking a little red. "C-Coffee?"

She leaned against his shoulder and sipped her hot chocolate, feeling it warm her up inside. "This is good," she sighed happily. "Feels really nice."

"Yeah," Luka said absently. "Nice. Did… I didn't ask if you wanted… any whipped cream… I can get…"

"Hmm? I'm okay," she murmured, drinking the rest of her hot chocolate. Plus she really didn't want him to go anywhere. He was warm and it felt like she could sit here with him forever. It'd be nice if they could snuggle together in her bed or something like that. She should ask if she could steal him away for a cozy snow day. That was a grand idea.

"Marinette," Luka started, then just. Stopped. He'd been looking at her, eyebrows furrowed. It was a few seconds during which Marinette turned back to face him, pressing part of her face against his shoulder. He exhaled, then smiled his lopsided smile. "Nah. It's alright." Part of him looked… resigned, maybe?

"I want you… to be as comfortable with me as I am with you," Marinette said sleepily. "I'm… I feel like it's so easy to be with you," she added. "You're so good for me," she sighed, letting her body lean back against the bench. The hot chocolate was working its magic and she felt parts of herself relax.

⁂

She woke up feeling slightly more rested but still overall groggy. Ugh, what happened? Wait. Wait. Oh no, she'd been with Luka and she'd just… she'd just dozed off? Wait, where was she? She sat up and blinked a few times, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She was back in her own room?! Her winter gear had been taken off as well as her shoes, but she'd been tucked back into her own bed by her mom by the look of it.

Marinette threw off her blankets and rushed downstairs. Oh God it looked like it was already evening -- did she miss the concert? Ugh, Marinette why did you have to be so lame?! "Maman?! Papa?!"

"Did you rest well, hon?" Sabine asked. "Luka brought you back a few hours ago--"

"HOURS AGO?! Oh no! Oh no oh no," Marinette yelled, pulling at her pigtails. She'd definitely missed the concert. Luka's last concert with Kitty Section!

"He also came back to bring the rest of your things from the Liberty," Tom added. "He stopped by just a minute ago! He can't be far, dear, why don't you see if he's still nearby?" Her dad handed her purse and gloves back to Marinette from where they were sitting near the register.

Marinette was ready to run out when Sabine tossed her a jacket. "And don't forget your shoes!" Sabine added, tossing boots at her daughter as well. Marinette didn't see the calculating smiles her parents exchanged with each other after she hurriedly put her gear on and ran out the Boulangerie.

Her mind was scattered but one thing seemed pretty clear: if it'd been a minute or two and Luka was heading back to the Liberty, Marinette would most likely find him in the subway station waiting for the next train. She didn't know the trains by heart but they came really quickly. She might have already missed him but if there was even the slimmest chance that she could catch him before he left she'd try.

She flew down the steps of the nearby subway entrance going toward the Liberty and saw only a few people milling around, but there was definitely a train pulling into the station right then and Marinette felt the rush of air buffeting her. There was one familiar figure in the distance and she ran toward them, hoping her gut instincts had it right. "Luka!"

Of course, as soon as she was close enough she tripped. She'd overstepped something or other and caught the edge of… something. If it hadn't been Luka she was hoping whatever kind soul she had just launched herself at would stop her from faceplanting. "Whoa!" a voice yelled out. Gloved hands braced her and pushed her back upright. "Marinette?" Yes, yes, yes, thank God, she thought looking back up at Luka, her world finally feeling right.

She promptly burst into tears after the relief faded. "I'm so sorry I missed it!"

Luka smiled, shaking his head slightly as he pulled her in for a hug. "The concert? Doesn't matter to me, I'm glad you got your rest."

Right, the sudden and inevitable betrayal of her body just because she'd stayed up a few nights makiNG PRESENTS OH SHOOT SHE NEEDED TO GET THOSE TO HIM! She snapped her head back to look up at him and slammed her head into his chin instead. "Ouch! Oh I'm so sorry oh no--"

Luka just started laughing after rubbing his chin. "God I'm gonna miss you," he said breathlessly, wiping away tears of his own, though his were caused by laughing too hard. The train next to them closed its doors with a hiss and started moving away. "Ah, whoops," Luka sighed. "I'll catch the next one."

This moment stretched in her mind as her mind raced. When he said he was going to miss her… it just reminded her how horribly she was going to miss him. Why had she been so freaking indecisive all this time? How was she going to deal with the Luka-shaped hole in her heart? How had she not realized that she'd wanted him and needed him until right as he was leaving for another freaking country and what if he was gone for a year or maYBE 10 YEARS or what if he decided he didn't want to come back and found himself someone else and she'd gone ahead and thrown this all away because she'd been too shy and too scared and too freaking stupid to realize she was in lo-- Oh, oh no.

Oh no. Don't freak out now, you saw this coming! Don't let him leave! she yelled at herself. Not yet. Not… yet, anyway.

"Wait! Wait, um, I-I have your presents pack at the packery--back at the bakery! I-I-If it's okay did you want me to get them now?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you already bring one to the Liberty?"

Marinette pressed her lips together in a wan smile. "One's not enough," she said quietly. "There are more. I… wasn't able to carry all of them." HE won't be able to carry all of them, she thought angrily at herself. But there was one that she wanted to give him in person, in private. Now was as good a time as any, if he was willing.

He looked a little worried, but then Luka shrugged. "Sure, I don't have anything else right now. I'll head back with you. Thanks, by the way… You know you didn't have to get me anything."

"How long have you known me?" Marinette sniffed.

His smile broke through again. "Fair enough." They walked back up the stairs back to surface streets and walked to the bakery when the pedestrian light was green. Tom and Sabine looked delighted that Marinette brought Luka back. "Hey again. It's been a while," Luka joked.

"Go on upstairs, we'll bring you some snacks in a little bit!" Sabine said cheerfully. Marinette noticed that there wasn't any room for argument in what her mom said. It'd nearly come across as a command.

"Stay as long as you'd like!" Tom added unnecessarily.

Luka just smiled and nodded politely and followed as Marinette decided she'd best leave right then. They went up the stairs past her parents' bedroom floor and into the main floor. Luka almost went up the Marinette's bedroom ladder behind her but decided against it. "I can wait down here unless you need help getting it down?" he offered.

Marinette wondered why he was getting weird about going into her room now, of all times. "Just come up?" Luka let out what was the tiniest sigh and he relented, going up the ladder. She waited until he was finished climbing. "I didn't get a chance to wrap this up yet, but… I want to make sure it fits properly anyway." She took a long leather jacket off of her mannequin and presented it to Luka. "This is yours. I made this for you. Can you try this on?"

He just stared for a minute. "That looks… pretty damn incredible, Marinette," he said in awe. He took off his current jacket and handed it to Marinette when she offered to take it from him. She pretended she didn't feel just slightly awkward watching his lean form emerge from his bulky outerwear, pretended she didn't notice that his gray shirt underneath fit snug around his chest, pretended that she didn't keep getting drawn to the lines and curves of the muscles he usually kept hidden underneath hoodies.

He put on the jacket she made. Most of it was black leather lined in fleece, but she left the arms and the hood a softer, more pliable fabric so he wouldn't have his arms constrained by the stiff leather. The dark gray fabric of the arms extended out past the wrist to cover the palms and backs of his hands, and had slits for him to put his thumbs through. He pulled the hoodie over and smiled at Marinette. "Feels pretty good," he said.

Marinette moved his arm so it extended out, looking at the pull of the fabric and making sure that it was fitting well. She made some minor adjustments to the way the jacket sat on him, checking the length, checking seams, checking if there were any problems at all before she realized she was probably being weird on him. "Oh! Sorry, I just--just wanted to… um. A-anyway, how is it?"

Luka had just taken her hovering around and fixing things with quiet dignity. "It's great. It's… like I said, incredible. This must have taken a lot of work," he said with clear praise in his voice. "I honestly can't believe you're giving this to me. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Since you're l-leaving in winter I wanted to make sure… that you're warm." Like you keep me warm. "And comfortable." Like you keep me comfortable. "And it's… it's not obvious but I also have something on the back. Here, you can check it in the mirror," she said, pulling him toward her full length mirror. He faced away from the mirror but checked over his shoulder to look. In the light Luka could tell that she had painted the leather in subtle blue and pink, more stains of color under the light than distinct painted lines. "I wasn't sure if you'd like it but… I put in the lightning bolt from your Kitty Section mask. So that way you even if you're not part of Kitty Section anymore, you can bring them with you? Am I making any sense?"

"I got it," he nodded, still checking out different parts of the jacket. "God, I don't have words for how amazing this is."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Marinette, I love it." He paused suddenly after looking back up at her. He was a little surprised when he saw that she was crying again. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He moved to her and pulled her into another hug.

"I'm just," she sighed, burying her face into his chest. "Seeing that on you. It makes it real that you're going." Luka took in a breath like he'd wanted to say something, but he let it go without saying anything. For a few heartbeats they stood there like that.

They heard Tom shuffling below and the hatch opened. "Hey kids, I brought some crois-- Oh, that looks wonderful, Marinette! That jacket turned out very nice!"

Marinette sighed and pulled away from Luka. "Thanks Papa," she laughed, taking the proffered plate of steaming hot bread.

"Eat them up while they're still warm!" Tom beamed, going back down the ladder and closing the hatch behind him. At least her dad didn't make a comment on how he found her and Luka. Maybe he was saving that for later… ugh.

"Want one?" Marinette giggled. "They are best straight from the oven."

"Sure, I'll take one."

Marinette handed one to Luka and ate one for herself, feeling pretty self-conscious at how awkward it got again. She put the plate of croissants on her computer table. "So um… The other presents for you are just… um. I guess there might be a lot to carry now that I think about it, ha."

"Keep them," Luka said between bites. Keep them? As in he didn't want them? Marinette froze in place. "Here," Luka added belatedly, smiling after he finished his croissant. "Keep them here. I'll be able to pick them up when I come back in the summer." He took a step toward her and leaned in close, placing his fingers against her cheek. Marinette blushed at the contact but she didn't shy away.

He pulled an errant flake of pastry off the corner of her mouth and ate it. "H-hey," Marinette grumbled. Well, it was probably her fault for expecting something… different. "That was mine," she added lamely at the end.

"What, you want it back?" He chuckled. "Dunno how--" She grabbed his lapels and pulled him in to kiss him hard. Then she heard Tom shuffling around again and shoved Luka at the chaise lounge just in time for Tom to open the hatch.

"I brought hot chocolate!" her dad announced with a huge grin, though it faltered a little as he took a slight pause to look back and forth between his daughter and the startled young man on her chaise. The kids were blushing pretty hard and Marinette just knew Tom was formulating some conclusions on what happened.

"Thanks Dad, we're good on snacks for now," Marinette said, trying to emphasize that she did not want anymore interruptions as she took the cups from Tom.

Tom grinned again. "Sabine and I added a little Dupain-Cheng magic in the cocoa, let us know what you think, alright? We'll leave you alone now," Tom winked.

UGH. She handed a cup over to Luka who took it automatically, still staring at her in a slight shock. Oh God maybe he didn't like her like that? "I-I'm sor--" she started.

"Don't," Luka interrupted. "Be sorry. Don't be sorry, I mean." He looked a little panicked and laughed nervously. "I didn't. Think. That you. Were…" he continued, speaking in fragments at a time. "Are you? Was that…"

Marinette sipped her hot chocolate nervously, her cup shaking slightly in her hands, but asked "Are you?" for some reason.

"How long have you known me?" Luka barked out as a laugh. "I've always liked you. Always."

"Me too. Really." Marinette said quietly. "I… it just. I suck at timing, you know?"

"Yeah," he breathed out, nodding.

She pouted. "But since you're leaving… it was something that… it just scared me."

"You know I'm coming back right?" He put his cup of cocoa on the floor. "Especially if you're waiting."

"You-you could meet someone new…?"

Luka furrowed his eyebrows. "I'll let you know if that happens. Is that what you're worried about?"

Marinette sighed. "No, orrrr ummm, sort of but not really. I just… didn't want things to change. And by that I mean I didn't want to… I didn't want to make… make any mistakes. With you." She chugged her hot chocolate, tasting the hints of buttery toffee and cream with a pinch of sea salt, then set her mug aside. "You've let me just hang out, you know? Let me be… me. And I was so afraid I'd screw something up if there was… anything more between us, if anything changed between us."

"But now things are changing anyway?" Luka replied. "Because I'm leaving for a while."

Marinette nodded. "Yeah. So, I thought I'd… well, give you that," she pointed at the jacket, "at least. So a little part of me can go with you."

Luka got back up to his feet and took off the leather jacket. "Then I'll only wear this when I'm away. Right now I'm here," he said. "And you're here. And I've always liked you. If you want me, I'm yours."

"That simple, huh?" Marinette smiled shyly.

"Always been."

Marinette drew herself into his arms and hugged him tight, feeling him wrap his arms around her. "I do. W-want this I mean. You. I really do suck at timing," Marinette sighed.

"Yeah, you do," Luka laughed. "But you've just given me some of the best Christmas presents I've ever gotten." He drew her face up to look at him and smiled. "And something to look forward to when I come back." He leaned in and kissed her.

[wwoodaengie]

ship (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

You and Hange are seated on the bleachers in front of the soccer field as you watch the football team do their warm-ups.

“And you invited me here because?” you asked Hange who never spoke ever since you arrived, which is probably a good 5 minutes.. 

“Levi is attractive.” you rolled your eyes at her statement. “So, why not?” she asked looking at you. “Ugh, Hange for the last time i am not asking him out and no, I don't like him! Why did you even invite me here, aren’t you supposed to be in class?!” you said. “Shouldn’t you be at class too?” Hange said. “My classes are done.” you said. 

The both of you looked back when you heard a thud, but you saw no one so the both of you  just shrugged it off.

Hange begged you to stay and watch the whole training of the football team. You picked your things up and started walking down the bleachers to go back to your dorm. “You guys should really date, you look good together.” Hange said. “How do you know we look good together?” you asked. She opened her ipad and showed a sketch of the both of you. “What the hell?! Hange, i know you’re an art major but what the fuck?” you pulled turned the ipad off and looked around to make sure no one saw the drawing. 

You were roommates with Hange and ever since he laid eyes on Levi and you, she never stopped talking about how you should date the football player. 

Levi is not a stranger to you, to the both of you. 

The 3 of you sat beside each other during the first year orientation, you started to hangout with Hange often and you shared a couple of classes with Levi, 

But you are not friends with him, more of like a colleague as you always explain to Hange. 

You never shared deep conversations, you never hung out with him, and you never talked to him at parties.

But, (as to what will Hange say)

You watched his games.

You wish him good luck.

You congratulated him if they win.

You shared your homework with him.

You wished him a happy birthday

You get invited to parties and you see him there, but you only nod at each other. 

There are obviously no reason to agree with Hange. 

Although he is cute, he is quite popular, very quiet, classy, and mysterious. Levi is like the man who came out of a YA movie and every girl liked him. 

The next day you were walking in the hallways of you building, you saw levi, so you smiled and continued to walk, but you were surprised when he suddenly sat in front of you at the cafeteria during lunch.

You raised your eyebrows-

“What’s not to like about me?” he asked. “Excuse me?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah, what's not to like with my friend.” A brown-haired man sat beside you. “See, I heard you talk about him with Hange the other day, so i asked Hange if you liked him and she said no, so now we are asking you if you don’t like my friend.” The brown haired guy, who is probably his teammate said. “Sorry, what is happening? and  why are you bugging me?” you asked. “I just wanted to know.” Levi said. 

You stood up and prepared to leave--

“Go out with me then, if you still don’t like me then i’ll leave you be.” Levi said.  

You are completely dumbfounded and confused with what's happening, so you just left and ignored Levi’s question. 

-- 

Miche laughed and looked at Levi who was looking at the retreating figure of the girl he just asked out. 

Levi glared at Erwin which made him stop laughing. “You shithead said it was gonna work” Levi started to walk away from the table. The blonde man stood beside him and draped his arm over at Levi’s. “ I said just ask her out, because obviously your little stunts with Hange is not working on her. Come on man, it's been 2 years, grow some balls and just ask her--” “I just did, she ran away. Are you bind?” Levi said with red ears and red face. 

You became Levi’s apple of the eye.

Ever since that freshman orientation, he wanted to ask you out many months ago but football happened. So instead of confessing his feelings to you, he confessed to Hange instead.

“I like y/n.” Levi said as he blocked Hange’s way. “Okay? Obviously i’m not her, so don’t expect me to blush and pass out. Excuse me.” she said and left. 

That day Levi couldn’t focus on training, he injured his foot. 

“Get well soon, Levi” 

Levi almost choked himself when he heard your voice, he looked up to say thanks but he was speechless, damn your such angel, he thought. So he just nodded. 

The only people who knew about his feelings were Hange, who is not even his friend, as of the moment and Miche, his teammate who ‘just’ knew. 

Levi can’t remember how he managed to convince Hange to set him up with you. 

“It’s not working anymore, ask her out yourself.” Hange said over the phone one day after practice. “Of course it won't work you asked her to ask me out who the hell does that?” 

“It’s the 20th century girls are allowed to do that.” Hange explained. “I know, but you only ask people you like SHE doesn’t like me.” 

Levi is frustrated as ever.

When he dropped the phone. Miche was already behind him. 

“Go shower, you smell like shit.” said Miche. Levi gave him the middle finger and went to the bathroom. 

“You know if you really like her! Man up and ask her out yourself!” Miche shouted. 

And that’s how he found himself asking you out on a very random day.. And time. 

And.. now you left.. 

You probably think of him as a weirdo. 

--

“And then I left.”

You are now hanging out with Hange to continue your interrupted lunch a while ago. You told her about what happened. 

“And I know its rude to not answer him and leave but i was pretty shocked” you explained.

“Well, what would you say if you didn’t leave?” Hange asked. 

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came. 

“Okay, Do you think I should go out with him?” you asked. 

“Excuse me? Did your little mind forgot how long I was convincing you?” Hange raised her brows. 

You bit your lip and grabbed your phone to call Levi. 

“You have his phone number?” Hange asked. “Yeah, academic purposes.” you said and dialled his phone. 

-

Levi couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

You are calling him. 

You.

The girl he likes you.

Y o u 

“Oh for fucks sake Levi answer the goddamn phone.” Miche said.

“Hello?”

“Uhh, hi is this Levi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh, uhm, hi Levi I-i just wanted to apologize a while ago, I didn’t mean to leave like that I was just-just you know, shocked.” 

He was smiling, like a fool. 

“That’s fine.” Levi said. He looked at Miche who is mouthing ‘ASK HER OUT!!’ 

“Yeah so about that--” 

“Can we meet? I’m at the field.” you said. 

Levi is on his way to the field his mind is in rumbles on what’s gonna happen. 

Did Hange told her? 

Is he gonna get rejected?

What the hell? 

He didn’t even start? 

You’re seated on the bleachers when he arrived. He looked at you and he just cant help but admire your face as your hair was blown by the wind. 

You smiled at him.

“Hey” your said. 

Levi just gave you a nod. 

“So a while ago, uhm..-”

“Do you still want to go out with me?” Levi asked. 

You bit you lip to prevent you smile as you nod. 

“Really? Seriously?” Levi excitedly asked. 

“Yeah.” you said as you chuckled. 

“Okay so uhm, when are you free?” Levi asked. “Anytime” you said. “Movie? Tomorrow night? -- oh no, that sucks. Uhm, dinner tomorrow at the diner, okay with you?” 

“Yeah, that’s okay with me.” you said. 

“Great, see you then.” Levi said and just looked at you. 

“So, i’ll go now.” you said. 

Levi nodded, so you started walking away. 

You went back with a smile on your face thinking about what just happened.

a/n: hi, welcome to the club, Levi. also, please please forgive me with this it bugged me the whole day. anyw, enjoy (please) 

also is thif fluffy enough. idk how it feels, wala na nagpapakilig sa akin. chz.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

(This is based off the lovely prompt you gave me a while ago, and I decided to incorporate it into the kid!verse. Khaleel is five years old now.)

Part 14 of Jimercury Kid series

Freddie’s hands were shaking as he held the wrapped package in his hand and he cursed himself internally, wishing his nerves would settle long enough for him to just open the door and give Jim his damn present. He had never been this apprehensive about giving someone a gift before; he usually couldn’t wait to surprise his loved ones, to see the absolute delight on their faces when they unwrapped the paper and saw what he had bought them. It was usually something expensive, something unobtainable to them, something grandiose that only someone with his paycheque could afford.

That’s what everyone wanted, right? Big, expensive presents?

Not Jim, apparently.

Jim was a simple man. That’s part of the reason why Freddie had fallen so hard for him, aside from his unmeasurable kindness and rugged good looks, of course. And being a simple man, he preferred the simpler things in life; he appreciated the lavish gifts and parties that Freddie treated him to, of course, but Freddie knew fully well that he could have been a road sweeper and Jim would still be in love with him. That’s the kind of person his husband was.

Which was precisely why Freddie was in the predicament he was in now.

--

He had been trying to figure out what to get Jim for his birthday for weeks, enlisting the help of Phoebe and Mary to scout out all the local department stores in search of the perfect gift. Phoebe found a nice pair of garden shears, which would come in useful, given that Jim’s current ones were old and rusting and Jim was always talking about replacing them. Practical, thought Freddie, but not exactly the most personal of gifts. Mary found a lovely ceramic cat ornament, its features hand painted by the artist; Jim would love it, Freddie knew, but he had already bought him a similar gift years before. In the end, Phoebe and Mary purchased the presents to give Jim themselves and the search continued.

It was their son who ended up inspiring Freddie, though that was hardly surprising because Khaleel was always inspiring him. Freddie had come home from a long day at the studio and found the little boy painting at the kitchen table with Phoebe, old newspapers spread out to make sure he didn’t make a mess. They had been at it for a while, judging by how many paintings there were scattered around; paintings of flowers, and dinosaurs and, of course, every one of the cats with their names scribbled underneath in felt tip.

‘These are lovely, Bijou.’ Freddie beamed, after Phoebe had excused himself to wash the paint off his hands. ‘You’re so talented. We should hang them up in your room.’

Khaleel nodded enthusiastically, adding one final dab of paint to his wonky picture of Garden Lodge before setting it beside the others. ‘Daddy said you paint too, Baba.’

‘Did he now?’

‘Yeah. He showed me a painting of Delilah you did. It was pretty.’

Freddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes fondly. He had thought he’d thrown out the unfinished portrait of his favourite cat, but he should have known Jim had held onto it. ‘Baba doesn’t really have time to paint anymore, darling. I’m too busy with my music.’

Khaleel looked disappointed. He glanced down at his messy fingers and began to fiddle with them. ‘Your painting made Daddy smile so much, Baba. You should do it again. It’s pretty.’

Freddie was at a loss for words. He had always loved art and still found himself doing the odd sketches and doodles now and then; but painting was something he had given up long ago in favour of singing. He simply didn’t have the time or the patience to commit to it. But Khaleel’s words were now engrained in his mind.

‘I’ll think about it, Bijou.’ He said softly, before leaning down to pick the child up. ‘Come on, you’re going to need a nice, warm bubble bath to get all this paint off you.’

He smiled as Khaleel squealed with excitement. (1/2)

It had taken Freddie a while to figure out what exactly he was going to paint. He still had the old brushes and materials Phoebe and Joe had bought him years ago, when he was ill and had temporarily been inspired to try his hand at art again; but as he sat there, staring at the blank canvas in front of him, he realised he had no idea what he intended to make for his husband.

He considered finishing the painting of Delilah but couldn’t summon up the motivation to continue it. He tried doing a landscape of the garden, but after a few attempts on some scrap paper, he gave up and decided to stick to what he knew best – portraits.

It was only when he leaned back in his seat and surveyed the room a moment that his eye fell upon the large photo frame he kept beside his bed; the one of himself, Jim and Khaleel, professionally taken a year before. There was a copy of it hanging up in the lounge, over the fireplace, but Freddie always kept the original right by his bed, so it was the first thing he woke up to every morning. Safe to say, of all the hundreds of photographs that lived in Garden Lodge, this one was by far his favourite. He and his two favourite boys. His perfect family.

Without giving it a second thought, he picked up his brush and began to paint.

------

It had been two long weeks of staying up late and sneaking around to make sure Jim didn’t catch him, but on the eve of his husband’s birthday, Freddie’s portrait was finally complete, and he carefully wrapped it in brown paper in preparation for the party the next day. He was satisfied with the finished product, and yet, he couldn’t help but feel his gut twist with uncertainty as he stored the painting away in a drawer to keep it from prying eyes. He knew there wasn’t a materialistic bone in Jim’s body but… what if he didn’t like the gift? Phoebe and Mary had bought him such lovely things, what if Jim was disappointed when he got to Freddie’s?

Thoughts like that were why Freddie was now standing outside the door to the lounge, trying to gather the courage to go back in. He had excused himself under the guise of getting another bottle of wine and had quickly darted up to the bedroom to collect the package and bring it down. Taking a deep breath, he finally pushed open the door and re-joined the others, who were already sitting down to start opening Jim’s presents.

‘Mary, I love it!’ Jim smiled widely as he examined the ceramic cat, turning it over in his hands before carefully placing it on the coffee table beside the garden shears Phoebe had gifted him. ‘It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.’

Mary smiled back, ‘you’re welcome, Jim.’ And they leaned forward to give each other a kiss on the cheek.

Freddie’s heart fluttered in his chest. Mary hadn’t been very supportive of his relationship with Jim at the start, most likely out of overprotectiveness and jealousy. But once they adopted Khaleel, she finally had to accept that Freddie had found the love of his life and it was time for her to move on. She seemed a much happier person for it. It touched Freddie to see her and Jim gradually becoming good friends.

Finally, it was Freddie’s turn to present his gift. Despite his best efforts, he still couldn’t help shaking slightly as he watched Jim slowly tear off the paper. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should have gotten Jim a new suit. Or a pair of cufflinks. Or-

‘Freddie…’ Jim sounded breathless and when Freddie looked up, he could see the Irishman’s eyes were sparkling with tears. ‘Freddie, did you paint this?’

The singer nodded, his mouth dry. ‘Do… do you like it?’

His answer was Jim leaning over and pressing their mouths together in a passionate kiss. When they pulled away, the tears in Jim’s eyes had spilled down his cheeks. ‘Sweetheart, it’s beautiful. It’s amazing, it’s perfect.’

Jim wasn’t usually one for PDA, but he was so overwhelmed in that moment, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing every inch of Freddie’s face, while their guests admired the gift that had enthralled him. It was a painting of Freddie, Jim and Khaleel, almost an exact copy of the family portrait hanging up above the fireplace except they were surrounded by flowers; yellow freesias, azaleas, and Khaleel’s favourite, Eden roses, all painted in watercolour.

When Khaleel saw it, he almost fell off Phoebe’s lap in excitement. ‘Baba painted me! Baba painted me!’

After the party was over and their friends had gone home, Jim snuck up behind his husband as the singer was placing the canvas on the mantlepiece and wound his arms around his waist. ‘So, this is why you wouldn’t come to bed all those nights? You were working on this?’

Freddie nodded, leaning back into his husband’s embrace. ‘I was going to buy you something, but I know how you always feel guilty when I spoil you. I wanted to give you something personal, that I made with my own two hands. Even if it isn’t perfect…’

He felt Jim kiss his ear, his thick Irish accent murmuring softly, ‘it’s the greatest gift anyone’s ever given me, sweetheart. And the best thing about it is that it came straight from your heart. I love it and I’m going to keep it with me. Always.’ (2/2)

--------------------------------------------------

OMG THIS IS PERFECT😭😭😭 This is the best interpretation of the prompt, MY HEART😭😭

Call me dumb, but whenever I'd think of Freddie doing something for Jim, it'd always be related to music. Until now, I had never considered art as one of the possible ways in which Freddie could've expressed his love for his husband. But this... this is so beautiful, oof.

I genuinely marvel at your ability to convey so many emotions in these short drabbles. You managed to portray Freddie's insecurities, his want to please his husband and do something special, his nervousness and fear so brilliantly. And Jim's reaction was so sweet🥺 This was truly such a special gift for him, and for their family, I am crying😭

Thank you so much for this, anon💙💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

[sweetestlamb]

All I Want for Christmas is You- Part 2

Summary: Mun-yeong realizes somethings about herself and gets an unforgettable Christmas. . 

Author's note: Thanks for all the love for part one, part two made my heart ache a lot while writing and there’s only one more part to come! Once you finish this part it will be pretty obvious what the next part will be LOL but thanks for joining me on this Christmas journey y’all. HAPPY READING. 

Trigger warning: mentions of child neglect, domestic abuse. Don’t read if those are triggering to you, do what’s best for you. 

It's her fault, she knows that entirely, she was the one to get her hopes up. When she came home and saw the suitcases on the ground, her heart beat skyrocketed thundering through her brittle ribcage babum babum it thumped as she dropped her backpack on the ground and ventured further into the lavish space. Fingers lightly caressed the matte black case as her eyes darted around looking for any signs of humanity.

Glasses.

On the pristine clear center table sat her father's reading glasses. The ones he would perch on the edge of his nose while he would look over his blueprints, nudging them up with a single digit when they slid down the bridge of his nose.

"Father?" The foreign word left her tongue, a word she hadn't uttered for months. She spun around desperately longing to catch even a glimpse of the elusive figure.

There was a distant sound of a door opening and then her father stood there in the hallway. Her lungs almost collapsed as she struggled to complete a simple bodily function she'd mastered since birth.

"Mun-yeong."

That was all he said. And it was the sweetest sound, suddenly flashbacks washed over her of running to meet her father by the door when he would arrive home. He would lift her up and spin her around, her gleeful squeals bouncing off the mansion walls. He would ask her about her day and tickle her little belly before she could answer.

Once upon a time they'd been happy. Too happy. She'd spent so much of her life laughing, maybe that was why the universe was balancing it out now. Before Gang-tae crashed into her world she had no reason to smile.

Flashes of her huddled under her blankets listening to the screams of her parents in the kitchen below, her mother's manic screech as she accused her father of cheating. Her father's adamant denials and then the metal crashes, her mother always became physical, bruises would litter her father's body. Then one day her mother was just gone. Without a single goodbye suddenly she was motherless. But she still clung to the idea of having her father, his love would be the balm on her wounds.

Then he moved them to the city, busy and bustling with life and movement and her eyes widened with wonder and she thought this would be their new beginning.

Her father took countless business trips, so much so that she never saw him, would glare at the other girls at the father daughter events. Remembered shoving a group of girls who called her an orphan, the rage singing through her blood.

Sang-in was hired soon after and she was a demon, she knew it and reveled in making his life a living life. She was demanding and bratty, crying and screaming in equal terms but he was persistent, disgustingly patient. He would smile at her antics fondly and never rise to her bait. Without her permission he was the first one that came to her mind when something good happened in her life.

When she'd written her first story, a morbid thing about consuming the things you loved, it had gone missing temporarily and then popped up in the visor of his car. When she demanded to know why he took her story his only response was, "It deserved to be shown off." She'd scoffed at the sentimental response twisting away to wipe at moisture that escaped.

So all in all it was her own fault for expecting something from someone who had given up on her a long time ago. Who she should have given up on too.

So she'd stood there silently with her father, deep wrinkles marring his skin.

Waiting.

"I didn't think you'd be home, I should have called first. I just came to get some important things, I have another business trip. Switzerland."

Important things. She took in the ties and pens in his hands, carefully folded clothes and sketches. Those were the objects he'd considered important here, she was discarded and left behind but those objects they were essential.

She wanted to scream, to hurl words at him like knives, slicing him up into shreds just like his words had done to her heart.

"Okay."

She collected her bag off the floor, walking past the stranger in the room without a second glance. It wasn't until she heard the front door close that she finally allowed the emotions simmering below the surface to erupt.

The decorations had been the final straw. It was salt on her festering wound.

She didn't expect Gang-tae to show up, thought that he too would forget about her existence. But instead he had tilted her world off axis, uttering words that her ears hadn't heard for years.

Love.

She didn't know what she felt for him exactly, she needed him that much she knew. She knew her jealousy and possessiveness wasn't healthy, knew that he wasn't hers, he wasn't an object or something she could own. But she wanted to. Wanted to lock him away and keep him to herself, there would be other Ju-Ri's- pestering ants- ready to steal him away and she wanted to smash them all to pieces. But did that translate to love, was she even capable of such a fragile emotion?

She falls asleep in his arms, rocked into a fitful sleep as he strokes her head whispering sweet nothings into her starved ears. She wakes up bewildered in her plush bed, thick blanket tightly tucked around her frame. When she ventures out into the living room after brushing her teeth and brushing her tangled hair, the sight of her boyfriend with an apron around his broad chest is enough to knock away some of the ice around her heart.

"What are you doing? You didn't go home?" Her voice is sleep laden and raspy even to her ears and she watches with feminine satisfaction as a chill runs down his body.

Twisting to meet her eyes, he locks eyes with her. The warmth in his deep orbs could rival that of the sun. It's almost painful to look at.

"Good morning. I didn't want to leave you. I called my mom last night, told her I was staying with Jae-su. How are you feeling?"

Like shit. Her eyes are sore and her throat is scratchy like she swallowed a bucket of sand.

He nods as if she spoke words, reading her face like an open book.

"Here." He hands her a cup of tea. "The soup will be ready soon and the rice is finished. Can you get us some plates and chopsticks?"

She absently listens to his requests, getting what they need on autopilot before sitting at the table and watching him move comfortably in her kitchen. After a minute of stirring and tasting he deigns the soup perfect and he brings the hot pot over to the table, before going back to scoop fluffy white rice into a deep round bowl.

The aroma perfumes the space with smells of spice and warmth, and she watches as he serves the food, handing it to her first.

"I hope you enjoy the meal."

She can't remember the last time someone made food for her, the closest thing she has is room service and one time Sang-in made a grilled cheese for her, too burnt around the edges and the cheese not all the way melted but she'd seen the treat on an American drama and demanded it.

"Thank you." She replies barely a whisper feeling vulnerable before him, he's seen her at her worst so many times but for some unfathomable reason he hasn't left. Unlike Sang-in he's not getting paid so she truly doesn't understand.

The first sip of soup is delicious, salty and thick with chunks of fish, potatoes and soft tofu. She hums at the flavor eagerly going back in for more, stuffing giant spoonful's of rice into her mouth until her cheeks puff out.

His airy chuckle breaks her single minded focus and she peers up at him inquisitively.

"What?"

"You're cute." He shrugs, looking her right in the eyes as if he isn't the same boy who blushes when she holds his hands.

"Cute? I'm not cute. And why are you so brave lately?" His confession replays in her mind, her traitorous heart thumping away frantically in recollection.

This time he does pause, putting down his spoon and looking at her over the  table with a serene little smile on his achingly handsome face.

"Love makes you brave."

She chokes on air, sputtering and coughing at his boldness again.

His laugh is loud and booming this time, rattling her bones and then he dives back into his soup with a happy chuckle.

"We're leaving after we eat. Wear something warm."

"Don't tell me what to do." She fires back. But she walks off to her room to change after slurping the last bits of the soup, ignoring his amused brows and knowing smile. Annoying.

He's changed too when she comes back out and she looks at him confused.

"I had Sang-tae meet me with a change of clothes earlier."

She wonders what time he woke up to do all these errands and why he's even going through all this trouble for her, she's not worth it.

But he looks gorgeous as ever in an emerald green turtleneck and dark wash jeans, his eyes are positively gleaming as he looks at her. She's swaddled in a cashmere cream sweater that hangs over her thick plaid skirt and tights. The way his eyes graze over her form makes her warm and she escapes before he can burn her up.

As she bends to tug on her winter boots she feels his presence behind her, he tugs her backwards into his hold. She immediately stiffens at the affection, unprepared for it.

"You look pretty."

Her heart flutters at the soft words whispered directly into her ears and she scoffs, leaning back further into his embrace.

"Why are you so mushy today?"

He hums instead of replying, suddenly spinning her around and she almost falls at the rapid move. He catches her with a strong grip on her waist.

"I really want to kiss you."

Her breath hitches as she gazes up at him, taking in his hungry stare and red lips. She reaches out to latch onto his sides, tugging him closer until their faces are inches apart.

"Do what you want."

He doesn't need to be told twice and almost instantly he's devouring her, licking at the remnants of soup on her tongue. She rises on her tiptoes to fully meet his passionate embrace, his love driving out all the cold that still stubbornly remained. His hands slide into her soft tresses as he bites at her plump bottom lip, sucking the sore flesh into his hungry mouth. A moan escapes her throat and she can feel how his fingers tighten on her scalp. When they break apart, he looks dazed running his tongue across his lips as if chasing her taste. It lights a fire in her belly.

"Okay now we can go."

"What the hell is this place?" She sneers looking around in contempt at the beaming families.

"A tree farm. I come here every year to pick out a tree with my family. I wanted to pick one with you."

She turns around walking away, skin crawling from being in such a place. He must have lost his mind. But he catches her hand in a large clasp and when she looks back vehemently, she meets his puppy dog eyes and pleading bottom lip.

"Please?"

She's not going to fall for that, he's not even that cute. No, she's definitely leaving and locking her door and telling security but to let anyone up.

"What about that one?" He inquires dragging her to another tree, identical to the one before it.

"They all look the same, I don't care. You pick." She whines for the hundredth time about ready to stomp and throw a tantrum like a child they'd walked past earlier.

He shakes his head and walks away again spewing some crap about finding the perfect tree for her. And then she spots a crooked tree in the corner, far away from the other trees. It's a decent size but it leans slightly to the right and the pines aren't as full as the other trees they've seen. It looks discarded and abandoned as a family walks past it, "Definitely not this one. Who would want an ugly tree like this? They all snigger. Something like sympathy swirls in her belly and she catches Gang-tae's eyes.

"I want that one."

He nods asking no questions, "It's perfect. I'll go get someone to pack it up for us."

It's not until they have the tree wrapped and tied that she remembers that they took a cab here.

"How are we going to carry this thing home?"

Gang-tae looks up from his phone with a smile before a car horn sounds behind them.

"With help." He points behind her and when she turns around she meets the grinning face of one Lee Sang-in, waving from the front seat. He hops out and immediately picks up the tree going back to strap it to the hood of the car.

Then he opens the car door for her with a bow, "Young mistress. It's good to see you."

She rolls her eyes at the title, he hasn't called her that since she was young and wanted to pretend she was a princess.

She hears Gang-tae thank him quietly before sliding into the car right after her, their thighs pressed closely together.

"Where to now? Sang-in asks adjusting his mirror

"Hom--"

"The mall." Gang-tae interrupts and she looks at him in surprise. "It's part of your experience, trust me?"

She doesn't respond but it scares her that her heart immediately says "yes", she does trust him.

When they reach the mall he grabs her hand again, pulling her out with a quick "See you later" directed at her driver, who nods in response driving off to find parking.

"Why are we here? I don't need anything."

He looks at her mysteriously before speaking, "You're going to buy gifts for the important people in your life."

Her father's voice echoes in her head and bile collects in her throat. He must notice the shift in her mood because he pulls her close.

"Shhhh. Not them. The important people in your life. The people who you love."

"Who....who I love?"

He drags her away from his hold and looks into her eyes softly brushing her cheeks.

"Yes. The people who make you happy. Only think about that."

Nodding she finally breaks from his embrace and steps into the mall, it's busy and crowded but Gang-tae uses his body as a shield and the shopping begins. By the time they leave the sun has began it's descend, vivid yellows and pinks painting the sky.

As if summoned the car pulls up by their feet, Sang-in hopping out to open her door once again.

This time when they both get in he doesn't ask them for directions and starts the familiar route back to her place. Head too heavy with ideas she stares aimlessly out the window, too overwhelmed to converse to Gang-tae.

When they reach her apartment she is unprepared for the sight that greets her.

On the sidewalk standing in the blistering cold are Sang-tae, Seung-jae, Jae-su, and Gang-tae's mother. They all begin to wildly wave when they see the car pull up.

"What?" She barely gets out before Gang-tae is tugging her from the car. Bounding over to the small group.

His mother is the first to speak, "Interesting how you slept at Jae-su's house but here you are at Mun-yeong's apartment." Her face is hard as ice while looking at her son but it melts to the warmest smile when she sees Mun-yeong. She ignores her son's breathless excuses and his older brother's mischievous sniggers at his little brother's discomfort.

"Oh Mun-yeong don't you look pretty? You must be cold, let's head up." The woman links their elbows and begins to tug her into the building. Seung-jae skips along with them happily linking arms from the other side and introducing herself to Gang-tae's mother.

Behind her she misses Sang-in trying to leave only for her boyfriend to block him, dragging him along with the group.

"So fancy." Gang-tae's mom whispers looking around, clutching at her threadbare sweater looking self-conscious and Mun-yeong tightens her hold.

"I like your house better." She says honestly, thinking about how much love is soaked in every surface of the small home. The smile she receives is better than all the riches in the world.

It's not until she reaches her front door that she remembers the mess she left behind, turning to Gang-tae with terrified eyes she looks for help.

He smiles at her, shaking his head and waving her in.

With trembling fingers she pushes the key into the hole and opens the door.

It looks at neat as ever, not a decoration in sight but all the broken glass and tinsel is gone. It looks reborn.

Breathing out a breathe she didn't release she was holding she steps inside, there aren't enough slippers for everyone- she's never had this many people over- and Sang-in rushes off to get extras from the front desk.

"Well, let's get started." Gang-tae's mom says, opening a large box she was clutching in her hand. Inside are the prettiest ornaments she's ever seen, homemade ones and lopsided ones that look like they were created by a child's hand.

As if reading her mind the woman lifts one bringing it closer to Mun-yeong before leaning in as if sharing a secret, "Gang-tae made this for me when he was six. He was so proud to show it off. Every year we put it on the tree, it deserves to be shown off."

The motherly pride bursting from her eyes steals Mun-yeong's voice and she remembers when someone said those very same words to her. Finding his eyes in the room, the urge to hug him washes over her but too frightened by her own emotions she hugs herself tightly instead.

"It's pretty."

And then it's a whirlwind of movement, Gang-tae's mother putting everyone to work- the men are setting the tree up in a corner by the window, while Seung-jae is on decorating duty leaving her on chopping duty in the kitchen.

"I'm not very good with a knife." She admits, embarrassed by her uselessness, it's clear that Gang-tae and Sang-tae were taught to be self-sufficient, both comfortable in the kitchen.

Instead of chastising her the woman takes the knife she was holding awkwardly in her hands.

"You need to hold it like this unless you'll chop those dainty little fingers off, I hear you're a writer so be extra careful. Just hold it like this and let the knife do the work." She models as she instructs Mun-yeong slicing the carrots into perfect rounds, before handing the utensil back to her.

"Try."

And so she does and they're nowhere near as perfect, not as even but they aren't too bad and pride sears under her skin.

"I did it."

"They look great. Keep going just like that." The praise makes her light-headed and she keeps chopping, wide smile spread across her lips.

"Hey Mun-yeong-ah, do you like this here?" Seung-jae calls from her spot on the couch, standing on it to put a sparkling string of snowflakes draping from the curtains.

She nods in reply. Too choked up to find her voice.

Her friend looks at her with warm knowing eyes before turning back to her decorations.

"We should let Mun-yeong put the star on top. Hey, Mun-yeong we're done over here, you wanna put the finishing touch?" Jae-su calls out to her, bits of tinsel lost in his hair as he waves her over to the almost completely decorated tree. The lights are twinkling, reflecting beautifully in the glass and she steps forward with her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

She stands in front of the tree, staring up at the empty spot for the star.

Gang-tae places it in her hand, his thumb gently swiping across her trembling skin.

"Here I'll help." Sang-in whispers, stepping behind her and lifting her off her feet so she can reach the top of the tree. Tears glisten in her eyes as she finally places the star on top.

"It's perfect." Her voice is too soft, she doubts anyone heard it.

But then they all explode in a small applause.

"It looks great Mun-yeongie! Nice job!" Sang-tae calls out, clapping the loudest before meandering off to try to steal food from the kitchen.

They all snigger at his pained "ow!" as he's thwarted once again by his watchful mother.

By the time they're sitting down to enjoy the feast her mind is going a mile a minute, listening to the rambunctious conversations around her as her world collides with Gang-tae's. She's never sat at this dining table before, opting to eat her meals in the safety of her room. But now she understands why others do this, eat together. It makes her fuller than the food she's shoveling into her mouth.

"One more minute." Sang-tae says loudly checking his watch.

When the clock strikes twelve, all is moving and she's passed from arm to arm until she's finally in familiar arms, Moon Gang-tae. He rocks her side to side as he tucks his head into her hair.

"Merry Christmas Mun-yeong, I love you."

She clings to him, emotions bubbling up as she fights back her tears. I love you. She thinks it loudly in her mind, this must be what love is. The way that she feels about him has to be love, it's too big to be anything else. She's certain.

"You don't need to say anything. Just know that I'm not going anywhere. That's love. It doesn't ever leave."

All these damn confessions. He'll be the death of her.

"Annoying."

He giggles before pulling away to hug his mom and Seung-jae fills his void, lifting her off her feet and she can't stop the cheerful laugh that explodes out of her.

She's happy.

They all clean up, pushing her on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate with large marshmallows. And then she realizes they're all going to leave, she's going to be alone again.

Cold icy dread fills her gut until the inevitable moment comes.

"We're all done. It's pretty late. We should start heading out." That's Gang-tae's mother as she packs away her things neatly and Mun-yeong wants to get down on her knees and beg them all to stay.

She's pulled into a warm embrace again.

"You make sure to come over often okay? We need to practice your chopping skills and fatten you up, you’re too skinny.” 

It's not a question but she still nods letting the woman hug her and Sang-tae ruffles her hair, punching at her chin and asking her to keep Gang-tae in line, she smirks in response nodding.

Seung-jae hugs her and promises to text when she gets home, skipping out the door to catch her taxi.

Gang-tae kisses her head and she presses her face into his neck, "Thank you."

He hugs her closely, breathing her in before twin coughs cause them to break apart.

He rubs his neck bashfully under the hard looks from his mother and Sang-in.

With a final bow, Gang-tae leaves with his family. But not before promising to come over tomorrow. Love never leaves, it always comes back.

Then it's just her and her driver.

"He's a good kid. Did you have fun today?"

She turns to look at him with wet eyes, tears finally falling after all the kindness she was shown today.

"Sang-in," she chokes out, "Why didn't you ever quit?"

He looks at her curiously before walking to sit on the couch, patting the cushion next to him in invitation. After a moment she sits down beside him melting into his arm around her shoulder.

"You were such a demon." He finally speaks and she turns to stare at him, his eyes are filled with fondness. "You were demanding and I was scared to come to work sometimes honestly, I did think about quitting once. Just once. But then I read that story you wrote, do you remember?"

She sniffles, "Yeah. The girl who ate everything."

He nods in agreement, "The girl in that story was so lonely that whenever she made a friend she would swallow them whole. Or they would run away. I knew that girl just needed someone to show her that you don't need to own everything you love. They can just live beside you, loving you too."

"I bought you a gift." She pulls away, brushing away her tears to collect the gift that Gang-tae helped her wrap in her room when everyone was busy.

She runs off to get the gift and brings it back to Sang-in, thrusting it at his chest. He looks at her with wide eyes before grabbing the shiny red square.

He opens it gently, peeling away the tape instead of ripping the paper, reverence in his very move.

He stares at the black box before prying it open.

Two buttery soft leather gloves stare back at him.

The gift feels stupid and too little in the wake of the words he just said to her and she's about to tell him that she'll get him something better and this isn't his real gift, she's never done this Christmas thing before she needs practice and--

"I love them."

He slips the driving gloves out of the box, sliding them over his calloused hands.

"Thank you Mun-yeong."

His reaction forces her to be honest with him, "I want you to be my driver for a long time. So you need to take care of your hands."

He nods softly, "Yes. I'll make sure that I do."

"I also got you this. If it's too weird you don't have to use it."

It had caught her eye at the mall, seeing it on others before but knowing she would never get to give it to anyone. But then Gang-tae had been there telling her to get it, she looked at him like he was insane but he insisted, "You know who you want to give it to. Stop hesitating, your heart knows best."

So she shoves another box at him, looking away in embarrassment, not emotionally ready to watch him open it.

He gasps when he does. A loud gasp that bursts out of his chest, he leans back into the couch as if sitting is too difficult.

"I.. Mun-yeong... I don't....thank you."

#1 dad.

Those are the words on the tie that hangs from his finger, the tie is silky smooth a deep hue of blue that has bits of silver when it catches the light.

In every sense of the word he's been like a father to her. More than her own father ever has.

"He's really rubbing off on you isn't he?"

She can't argue. Without his guidance she would have never done any of this, wouldn't have looked into her own heart to find these hidden dormant emotions. 

"I think I love him."

Sang-in stills before brushing her hair behind her ears, "Then I'm not the one you should be telling. Love should be expressed. “ 

“I will. I’m going to tell him.” 

Tomorrow can't come soon enough. She has to tell him how she feels.

I'm in love with Moon Gang-tae.

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby"-part V

Tw⚠️: swearing, angsty vibes ( I think)

Your body moved in distress, turning the sheets all over as you left out a gasp of terror, your face clenching in pain. You have a nightmare, a usual occurrence that happens when you are stressed. Having such a big imagination, your dreams/ nightmares came vividly, with excruciating details. You could see them in colour however the images were blurry, hazy almost.

This nightmare was about Fatima, the sketch artist from up top. She was a senior here and usually the person in this block turned for guidance, relief and peace. She was from the South part of Sudan, fact that she lets it known by her traditional style fashion, her food and her drinks and the occasionally loud conversations she has with her folks back home. A peaceful artist with beautiful brown skin with yellow undertones, an oval face with a big smile plastered on it and shinning black orbs. An angel in disguise that you often seek when the world proved too much for you. Fatima never really showed her own worries and fears but you were one of the privileged few who did see her at her lowest, an experience that motivated you , scared you and hurt you. The amount of times your heart clenched those times matched with how many tears left her orbs.

You were ejected vertically on your bottom as your mouth left a silent scream, tears dropping from your eyes but you didn't have time to think it over since loud noises came from upstairs,Fatima's room. In your paranoid state you didn't question the musicality of the sounds ,chosing to ran out the door ,slapping it shut and jumping two steps each time till you reached her door.

Fatima was enjoying her second favourite types of music, Afro-Latina songs when a storms of pounds hit her door. Confused and terrified, she grabbed the nearby mop before she opened the door. It was just you.

You stood there in black shorts made from former leggings to long for your short legs, white ripped shirt stained with old paint from when you helped her renovate and messy long hair and tear filled puffy eyes.

"Y/n! My girl ,what happened?"

There she was, with a long white fit dress that ended in a curve at the start of her feet and silver grey hijab wrapped around her head. She look energised despite being 5 in the mornina Most importantly she was Most importantly, she was safe, unharmed and happy.

Your noise picked up the aroma of her handmade mix of tea that filled the textile of her dressing where now your head rest as your body convulse in a breakdown again. Shocked and confused, she wasn't stopped however from showing you the comfort your soul may need.

She caressed your long hair and rubbed your back as you two sat on the white tiles of the entrance. The door long close by her other roommate, Catherine Blank - a 26 years old from Dublin.

On Fatima's commends, the red haired freckled woman brought you a knitted blanket and a cup of water. Her hands found their way on your cheeks when you finally calmed down,rubbing them on your wet skin as you drank the water. Your eyes fell down in shame for disturbing them.

You didn't know why it happened. Just two hours ago you finished talking with Corpse and went over your notes one last time.

You seemed fine, too busy for any bad thoughts to bug you or anything such as. Yet here you are.

"Jesus ,girl. You scared us." Came the heavy accent voice of Catherine.

You looked at her standing in black leggings and a black top, skinny hands on round hips and a scowl of worry on her square face. Green eyes softening when they met yours.

"I..um..."

"You don't have to tell us right now, sweet girl. Come, let's enjoy each other with some select songs."

You all three burst in laughter at the ridiculous pompous tonality Fatima chose to express herself with.

You followed, grasping the extended hand of Catherine as Fatima rearrange the blanket around your tattoos covered body.

————————————————————

It was morning when you finally return back into your apartment. The door closed itself with a heavy thud that resonated within the insides of your shaky lungs. You calmed down significantly since that explosive outburst of fears and terrors.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin. You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin.

You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

Your soul long desired the touch of another: to be grasp tightly and lovely by their hands, to be enveloped in their smell as they whisper sweet nothings into your ears, to have their warmth dry your tears, to bring comfort to your pain. You resigned years ago that you were never meant to experience this sessions, merely observed them. But your heart craved them and craving it did, as you watched in fake disgust the romantic displays in Ace's romances.

Right now, after crying your eyes out, your burns needed that comfort, needed that care and love but again you were denied of them, you can only thank yourself for that.

The cup was slapped in foolish fury as you tossed some hot water in it. The tea bag falling towards the end of the cup.

Three knocks were heard at the door and you curiously turned, cup left forgotten.

Opening the door, Omar was standing there with a little albino boy with clear big blue eyes and curly locks. He was wearing a red blue and white checkered shirt with beige church pants. He smelled nice ,his cologne hitting your your long narrow nose immediately after opening the door.

You raised a brow as he sheepishly smiled.

"Nice kid."

"Thanks."

Then silence.

You continued drinking your tea,staring at the man who finally realised that you didn't know the motive of his visit.

"Alma didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"She said you agreed to watch over Tj today."

Wait.

Your panicked grew was your eyes turned to the calendar to the right of you. There in bold yellow numbers the day of 5th November was left clear with the exception of being circled over with a gold marker.

"Shit ,it was today? I mean ...fuck. Sorry, Omar. It totally slip my mind."

The man laughed ,his brown eyes were warm and forgiving, no offense taken by your skip of mind.

"It's fine,Y/n. So it's alright if I leave this little guy with you for a bit?"

"Y-Yeah. But I don't have-"

As Omar entered the hallway, a grey bag you previously not seen was by the door , you picked it up before going to the living room.

He sat the kid dressed in a sailor white and navy blue stripped t-shirt and light grey sweatpants on one of the sit of your 1970s floral printed sectional sofa.

The kid was making sounds and hand gestures ,wanting to be picked up again by his father who was busy speaking with the 159cm tall woman.

"Tj here is a big of a love bug, get him to like you and you can't go anywhere anymore. Just like his mother I suppose. "

"Does he have any..um..food preference I should know about?"

"Um...Wait, Alma left you a notebook, ah well not you but me. Here ,it should have anything you will need. Again,thank you so much for doing this Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it." You said ,flipped the pages of the hard back notebook. Luckily Alma had a neat writing.

"Well, I need to go now. Be nice, little guy. "

Omar bent down to kiss his son's forehead, a sign of goodbye. The child stared at his father with a confuse look as he bubbled nonsense. His tiny hand reaching for the leaving figure.

Omar left soon after ,waving bye-bye to his son and almost kissing your forehead as a habit he picked up since he got together with Alma, their form of goodbye.

You stood there, staring at each other as the kid started to laugh and throw his toy at you. You caught it, he will throw it again and so forth.

You were tired however and knew the boy with too much energy will not be easily manipulated into sleeping. Opening the TV to the kid's cartoon channel , you settled on the opposite couch ,eyes falling victim to tiredness.

----------------------------------------------

You must have been asleep 2 hours and so begore the loud crys woke you up.

Crys? Shittt! The kid.

Shooting out of your crouched position, you ignore the stirring pain of your sudden movement. Your legs' thud brought the attention of the crying mop of hair.

A wrenches smell filled your nostrils as your dread grew when you realised where its source came from. Looks like it's time to change a diaper. Oh ,man!

With a mask over your nose, hair tied behind your back and gloves you started changing the boy in the bathroom, you cleaned and washed him and brought him back on the layed blanket on the couch. Your disgust grew as you cleaned the sink and disinfect it.

You groaned as you threw your equipment in the bin, a bing didn't let your stomach cringe at the memory of the smell. It was a message from Corpse.

'Hey :)'

You smiled, quickly texting him back.

'Hey!"

'Up to play something today?'

'A new stream? You just finished one tomorrow, I don't want you to burn yourself out.'

'<3 But no, I mean to play together in private, just the two of us.'

You wanted to text him back, teasing him with the proposition of a date but the sounds of broking glass was heard from the living room.

With a scream , you quickly typed out :' Cant baby in troble.!'

The kid was fine thankfully , grinning and laughing at your panicked state. What was not fine was the white porcelain vase with blue florals Sabrina brought for her collection. She wouldn't be mad per say but she wouldn't be happy either.

The kid ,now standing to ran around the room ,using the coffee table to his advantage, your legs screaming from the workout. Luckily the broken vase was behind you away from the child.

Unfortunately, your phone started to ring. Who the fuck would call me now? Oh! It's Corpse. Wait..Corpse!

"H-hey Corpse ! What are you - come here you little block of swiss cheese."

The man laughed as the phone's speaker vibrated on your right ear where you lodged it.

Tj laughed innocently as you grabbed him and hold him to your left hip. Your hair,nerves and mood all a mess.

"A-Are you okay?" Corpse asked after recovering from the fit of laughter.

"Me? Oh ,sure. I have a gremlin here who's more trouble than his worth. Hey! Stop that!"

The happy face of Tj turned in a cringy crying one as he wailed. Apparently you wanting to stop him chewing on your white banda, tightly nicely on the top of your head ,was too much.

"Sounds like trouble. By the way, you called me?"

"I did?"

Your eyebrows clenched as you look at your calls history,you did actually. The icon of the call must have been press on accident or that it was a sign from the universe that you are in dire need of assistance.

"Y-yeah. Look, Corpse l-I gotta go. I will call you-"

And you stopped, your breath becoming more fast as your nose flared.

"Um ghost? Are you...Are you there?"

"Stay on the line,Corpse. This kid just pissed on me."

With that another wave of laughter hit the man as he thrown himself into the chair.

----------------------------------------------

Finally, you changed the damn brat after cleaning him again and taking a shower yourself. You left a breath as you watched the chil playing with his blue rocket toy.

"Babysitting is much harder than the films makes it out to be." You grumbled, pouting as you listened to Corpse's chuckles.

They managed to calm you enough to turn the intimidating glare you had plastered all over your face into a more stern one.

Your body dressed in a clean pair of white jeans short, black tank top and blue checkered shirt over, leaned on the frame of the door. You were waiting for the milk to heat up, luckily the boy was only a month away from being an year old so you could give him cow milk without worrying.

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby." He said ,his voice making you visibly tingle.

You sighed, placing the phone near the wooden bread box and grabbing a cup. By now the milk should have warmed up.

"Um...goofball?"

"Yes,Corpse?"

"You...you are not wearing your voice changer. I..I am sorry, I should have told you from the start but I like the s-sound of it ,I didn't want it to stop."

You could hear the beads of his bracelets as he played with them, nervously waiting for your response.

"I-It's okay, Corpse. You don't need to be sorry."

You swallowed, this day really came for your neck. Your eyes stung as you fight them off, no reason to make Corpse's day shittier by being pathetic.

"You are not fine ,are you goofball?"

The kind and worried tone of this wonderful individual you became to take a liking of was enough to cause everything in you to break loose.

"N-No ,it's not. Everything been so fucking stressful and I-I don't know what to do Corpse. I try my might to fight these thoughts but everytime they resurface stronger and more disturbing. I can't keep them in control, Corpse. I just CAN'T. A-And I keep worrying about losing all: my friends, my belongings and my family. I feel like I will drive them away especially if I can't bring my share to the table. I don't even know why I tell you these to be honest, I don't want to scare you away but in the same time I ... FUCK!"

Your fists hit the table you been resting on hard , scaring the child in the living room. His cries only angered you more.

"Ghost. Ghost! Ghost! Gho-"

"WHAT?"

You instantly regretted shouting at him,stopping from your pacing too.

"Calm down,buttercup. I know how you feel and going down a warpath or an abyss of sorrows ain't the answer. Come, let me help. "

"You still want to?" Your voice came out timidly and shying away in fear, shielding your eyes in shame despite him having no possible way of seeing your face.

"Of course, you goof. Now let's see what we do with that kid."

You swiped a tear out of your right eyes ,smiling and nodding before remembering he couldn't see, just hear you. That made you more anxious now that you realised that he knows a close guarded information.

————————————————————

A smile ran down your face as you watched the child all wrapped up in his dark blue blanket struggle to jeep his bright eyes opened as his ears and energy were captured by Corpse's singing. It's was a lullaby about moon and love, being in Spanish you only understood unfortunately the words close to your mother language.

You almost lost yourself to the gentle hums , stringing of a guitar and over all wholesome cozy atmosphere when loud voices and thumbs came from the apartment near Fatima's.

An idiot called Tudor who plays the bass part in Sergiu's band lived there, he and his boyfriend Micah. Two assholes who had a bone to pick with everyone, well more like Tudor had ,Micah was a follower.

The sense of protection enveloped you as you caressed the child's hair and kiss his right temple, letting him with Corpse to fall asleep.

Your grey flippers cracked against the stone stairs harshly and quickly. Your glare being as cold as the staircase room.

You knocked furiously on the door, hurting your hands by the metal indentations carved into the door. Your ears picked up footsteps approaching the door in a lazy manner, the two making jokes about what kind of bitch could be bothering them.

The smirk on his long face vanished when his pale blue eyes meet your fiery dark ones. He puffed a lock of dirty blond hair , saluting you in a cocky but intimidated manner :

"I wonder why the Red Riding Hood is paying us a visit? What do you think ,Micah?"

He leaned back to let his dark skinned boyfriend take a look at you. His eyes showed fear but he continued the masquerade in order to please his scumbag of a lover.

"I don't know, babe. Maybe she wants a threesome."

Tudor laughed like then pig he is, Micah lipped an apology to you, his black gems cowering in shame.

Micah wasn't a bad man , he was just naive and a people's pleaser, with no sense of stern morals but even awareness to know he is the wrong. You never understood why he wasted his breath by staying at the side of this buffoon of a dude. You ignored his half-cocked insults, knowing they didn't really had a backbone to them.

"I will appreciate if you could tone it down a little. No one needs to know you two are making a sex tape."

This seemed to anger the taller white as mayonnaise man who dismissed his boyfriend with a wave of his painted hand and moved forward to you. The red door of his apartment shutting up with an echo.

You two glared at each other, not one of the other backing down. Your breath was forcefully calmed down by your anger , last thing you needed is for him to know he was affecting you by coming too close. Your hands shook in their tight grip and you were pleased you cut your nails earlier.

"Just because Sergiu lets you come with us when we play, doesn't mean you and I are friends. Got it, girly?"

His rough tone only displeased you.

"And just because you can string two cords and not sound like a dying cat doesn't mean you are a great singer either, buddy."

"Fuck you." He said that to you in a clasped breath, his teeth biting on his lower lip as his face appeared more furious.

If this motherfucker puts his hands on me ,I swear I will...

"Y/N? Y/N!"

It was Sergiu.

The man in a punk style leather jacket ran quickly up the stairs, his armored black boots clicking away.

His face was twisted into a fearing expression before turning into a more pissed off one. He knew of Tudor's dislike towards you and knew that the both of you won't hold back if this turns physical. He needed to be smart about this.

"Man, come on. Leave her alone."

He moved to come between you ,Tudor's movement of hand stopped him.

"Nah,man. This bitch thinks she come here like she owns the fucking place and tell me what to do? I am sorry, princess, but you got another thing going. "

"TUDOR ISAAC POPESCU!"

A female voice caused his blood to ran cold and you to smirk.

Behind Sergiu, a petite woman in her mid fifties glared at him. Her greying hair caught in a bun,her olive wrinkled face was in a madden frown as her blue eyes shield by fuchsia framed glasses stared at him. The madame in green suit pants and white and black blouse was his mother.

His mother, a teacher at your University, was a lioness of a woman, never detour from the right path of doing things and more importantly never afraid to tear down anyone if they being dickish. Not even her loved son.

Sergiu grabbed gently you without a word as you two left the mother and son quarrel in peace, a part of you already starting to feel bad. You hate when you argued with someone but your anger sometimes got the better of you. Today truly has been an exhausting day.

————————————————————

You are in your room,Corpse still on the phone with you. You already explained what happened and know you enjoyed just talking with him about everything and nothing at the same time,trying to not fall asleep for how calming his voice was.

"You sure you don't want me to end the call. You must be tired from all the noises. "

You stirred, cleaning the droll of your left wnd of your lips. Your head ache as you saw that night has befallen.

"Wh-What?"

"Goofball,I was talking if you wanted me to let you rest but you already beat me to it."

"T-Tj?"

"Your friends said they will take care of them. They were so surprised to find me singing to him, though."

"Ah,shit. Sorry Corpse."

"Nothing to be sorry about, pumpkin. "

"Pumpkin, seriously?" You asked ,snuggling back into the comforter.

"Yeah, why not? The fall season is still up for a month or so."

"Hmm, I prefer goofball better."

"If you say so, princess. You *yawn* you sure you don't want me to let you sleep?"

A panick arised into your soul as you quickly told him no.

"P-Please stay."

"A-Alright."

He began to continue the story one of his subscribers send him as your eyes shut. A smile on your lips at last.

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Hey,guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the fifth part of the serie. It was a roller coaster to write.

Anyway, stay safe!💗

Tagged💖:@moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @yoyoanaria @gaysludge @mythicalamphitrite