#JOY OF DAYS MY ID CARD HAS BEEN FOUND

[taeu7]

"In Tune with Love: You, the Melody of My Heart"

Part 6

"Oh !......that is of coco to avoid suspicion he answered .........as Mingyu waved the rubber band in the air with a smirk. "Coco? Really, Wonwoo? Since when do cats fancy such stylish hairbands?" he questioned, his tone light but probing.

Wonwoo reached out, trying to reclaim the hairband while deflecting Mingyu's suspicions. "Just give it back… It's really Coco's," he insisted, his voice carrying a hint of urgency.

Hoshi leaned in, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I get what you're implying, Mingyu," he said, joining in the gentle ribbing.

Wonwoo, feeling the heat of their gaze, tried to brush it off. "What are you two talking about? It's just a hairband for Coco," he said, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Mingyu and Hoshi exchanged knowing looks, their smiles suggesting they weren't quite convinced. "Yeah, sure," Mingyu replied, his laughter echoing in the room.

Hoshi nodded in agreement, adding, "It seems like Wonwoo has some secrets he's not sharing."

Despite the relentless teasing, Wonwoo managed to steer the conversation away, and they all settled down for a hearty lunch, the earlier banter fading into the background.

As the day turned to evening, Wonwoo found a quiet corner to call Y/n. His voice softened as he spoke, "I guess i am already missing you … more than I thought I would."

Y/n's response was equally tender, "but it's just hours we got seperated but yeah i miss you too ." Smiling and blushing on another side.

They delved into a conversation as cozy as a warm blanket, sharing their likes and dislikes, their words weaving a tapestry of their growing affection for each other. The distance between them felt smaller with each shared laugh and whispered confession. The week had been a whirlwind of missed connections, with Wonwoo's packed schedule leaving little room for face-to-face meetings. Calls and texts were their lifelines, brief moments that bridged the gap between them. ………… The week had been a blur of fleeting moments, with Wonwoo's demanding schedule leaving little room for him and Y/n to meet. Their connection hung by the slender thread of hurried texts and brief calls, each message a lifeline across the chasm of their busy lives.

On the set of 'Going Seventeen,' the air was abuzz with the usual energy of a shoot. It was during a much-needed break that Y/n made her entrance, her arrival punctuated by a jubilant "Tadaaaaa!" as she brandished her ID card for all to see.

The members turned, surprise etching their faces. "Wow, what's this?" they echoed, their curiosity piqued.

With a mixture of pride and excitement, Y/n explained how a chance encounter with Manager Kim had led to an unexpected opportunity. He had asked if she could lend her assistance, and without a moment's hesitation, she had agreed. It was a twist of fate, a new role that had seamlessly woven her into the fabric of their world.

Congratulations poured in from all sides, a chorus of well-wishes that filled the room with warmth. Amidst the celebration, Y/n and Wonwoo shared a fleeting glance, a secret smile that spoke volumes. "Congratulations," Wonwoo said, his voice low but sincere, a subtle acknowledgment of their shared joy.

Gratitude flowed from Y/n as she thanked everyone, her heart swelling with the acceptance and support of the group.

As the shoot came to a close, the decision was unanimous—a celebratory dinner was in order. Y/n, now part of the team, was naturally included.

The restaurant buzzed with the energy of SEVENTEEN's camaraderie, a place where laughter and conversation flowed as freely as the evening breeze. Y/n stood at the crossroads of decision, two empty seats beckoning her—one beside Dino, the other by Wonwoo. Her heart tugged her towards Wonwoo, and with a silent prayer that her choice wouldn't stir the waters of suspicion, she took the seat beside him, their smiles a secret handshake.

As the members dived into their meals, Y/n and Wonwoo conversed in the silent language of shared glances, a dialogue that needed no words. Their connection was a quiet current beneath the surface of the group's joviality.

Mingyu, ever the instigator of fun, decided to stir the pot. "Remember the rubber band mystery?" he began, casting a playful glance at Wonwoo. The table's attention swiveled to him, a collective curiosity piqued.

Y/n's heart leaped to her throat, and she choked on her food, coughing as the spice seared her senses.

"Are you okay?" S.Coups asked, concern knitting his brows.

Y/n nodded, her voice a raspy whisper, "Yeah, it's just… it's spicy."

Mingyu, undeterred, wove the tale of the hairband, his story a tapestry of teasing and speculation. Y/n fought to keep her composure, her mind racing for an escape from the spotlight.

The members, sensing an opportunity for playful interrogation, turned to Wonwoo. "Who's the girl, Wonwoo? You can tell us," Vernon encouraged, a grin spreading across his face.

Jeonghan chimed in, his voice teasing, "Is she an idol? An actress? Come on, spill the beans!"

It was then that Hoshi, with a detective's eye, noticed the similarity between Y/n's rubber band and the one in question. "Ohhh, ohh," he exclaimed, a knowing look passing between him and Mingyu.

The8, curious about the sudden shift in mood, inquired, "What's up with you guys?"

Mingyu and Hoshi, still smiling, kept their discovery to themselves. "It's nothing, it's nothing…"

As the evening wound down and the group prepared to leave, Mingyu invited Wonwoo to join him in his car. With DK and Hoshi already inside, Hoshi leaned in, his voice low, "Listen, DK, whatever we're about to discuss, it stays a secret."

DK's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "What is it? Tell me!"

Wonwoo, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension, echoed, "Tell me too."

Hoshi's smile was enigmatic. "It's about you, Wonwoo."

Mingyu, barely containing his amusement, added, "We know who that girl is."

DK's anticipation was palpable. "Oh man, you know who it is? Tell us, Mingyu!"

Wonwoo, a mix of annoyance and nerves, protested, "Will you guys stop? There's no girl."

But Hoshi was undeterred. "There is… We all know her."

Mingyu delivered the revelation with a grin. "We know, hyung. It's Y/n."

DK's shock was almost comical, his hand covering his mouth as he turned to Wonwoo, who sat in stunned silence, the truth finally out in the open.

A/n : i am just newbie in this field kindly ignore mistakes ! Hope i didn't make you bore !

And yes ! Thank you so much for all your response as little things do matters to me !

Have a nice day ahead!

Part 7 updated!

[mytruthandbeauty]

Thursday 8 February 2024

After much thought and consideration, after a fair amount of travel to Ecuador, Panama, Guatemala and several cities in Mexico I finally came to the conclusion that I wanted to make Mexico my home, so this past Tuesday I made it legal and went through the process of getting temporary residency for four years here in my beloved Mexico. It took most of the day and I was able to get it done here in Oaxaca de Juarez with the help of a great lawyer and after answering a few simple questions, paying a fine and the fees. The fine was because I had over stayed my tourist visa by more than six months, but the beauty of this particular program was I didn’t have to prove financial solvency ( meet a certain income level), which I could not do and I didn’t have to go back to the states and apply through an embassy there. While I wasn’t happy about the fine, I understood it and it wasn’t an outrageous sum, so I paid it willingly. The fee itself for the visa was more than the fine, but it is for four years and after that I can apply for permanent residency. After it was all done and I had my new ID card I wanted to jump for joy, I did figuratively.

Now the country truly opens up for me and I can do everything except vote. I had been searching for a home since I left Chicago in 2015 and I’m so thankful that I’ve finally found one, because for a while I didn’t think that would ever happen. I can now open a bank account, enroll with the national healthcare system and commit to learning Spanish. I told my landlady the good news and she said I should stay in Oaxaca and with her in my current apartment. I told her I could probably commit to a year, maybe, but it was good to feel wanted. I know her main motivation is that I’m a good tenant, I always pay the rent on time and in full and I don’t make any fuss, still it speaks to the fact that we also get along quite well and I’m sure I’m okay to be around. Mexico has been pretty much the same to me in general and I hope to continue improving our relationship.

[kellystar321]

.

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: EDIT! So I uploaded this on my IPad because i literally couldn’t wait to post so now it’s all prettified and I’ve added the tags too. If you’ve already read thank you so much, if you’re reading it because of the tag also thank you very much. Based on this prompt from @rowaelinprompts  

~~~~~ It was just after lunch when Rowan got the call with a few good hours in the work day. It was coming from the high school his two eldest children attended and being in the middle of the day that was never a good sign. So he left the email he was working on half finished to see what kind of trouble one or both of his children had managed to get into.

“Hello,” Rowan said in his politest phone voice.

“Hello, Mr Whitethorn. This is Hazel calling from Orynth High School. I’m just calling to let you know that Elspeth isn’t feeling too well and it would probably be best if she was picked up.”

Rowan rubbed his forehead, it always stressed him out when any of his kids weren’t at their best. Aelin took a small amount of joy in pointing out his fussiness. “Okay, well my wife is at home. It might be best to give her a call.”

“Elsie has requested you specifically, and would very much like for you to be the one to come get her,” Hazel explained.

That made Rowan even more concerned. The high school had a strict no phone during school hours policy, and while he was on board with that action within the school right now he was resenting it. “Yeah alright, let her know I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.”

“Thank you, Mr Whitethorn. See you soon,” Hazel said and hung up.

Rowan took another minute or two to finish off the email on his screen, then he closed his laptop and slipped it into his bag. He sent a text off to Aelin letting her know that the school had called saying Elsie was unwell and that he’d text her with an update when he had it. For 16 years he tried his hardest not to keep his daughter waiting for him, and he wouldn’t be starting now. On his way out he stopped by his boss’s office and found Lorcan hunched over his desk, staring between a desktop and laptop screen. Rowan gave the thick wooden door a hard knock to get his attention. Lorcan looked up with his standard workplace scowl set on his face.

“Elsie isn’t well and needs to be picked up so I’m heading out to get her,” Rowan said.

Lorcan nodded, that scowl taking on a more parental quality. “She okay?”

“I’m not sure, they didn’t give me much information so she’ll have to fill me in when I get there,” Rowan explained.

“Let me know how she is,” Lorcan said, he’d always had a soft spot for Elsie. “Korby hasn’t been saying much lately, I think sports is picking up so they’re not spending so much time together.”

“Will do.”

After that it didn’t take Rowan long to get in his car and to be heading across town to the high school. Now that he thought about it Elsie hadn’t been looking well these past few days, she’d been pale and quieter than usual. That was mostly noticeable because her siblings had been a little more chaotic without her steady presence to calm them down. She hadn’t come to him, or Aelin for that matter, about anything. So it could be possible she was suffering in silence over gods knew what. The more Rowan thought about it, the tighter that knot of concern twisted in his gut. As parents he and Aelin had worked very hard to be open and honest with their children, they wanted them to know that they could come to either one of them with anything without judgement. If something was wrong and Elsie hadn’t felt that she could approach him about it…

With his parental instincts activated, Rowan had no time for hesitation when he arrived at the school. Yanking the handbrake up and getting out of the car was a series of fluid motions that had him moving as fast as he could. He headed to the administration building, his driver’s licence ready to show as proof of ID.

“Whitethorn, I got a call to pick up my daughter Elspeth Whitethorn-Galathynius,” he said as he laid the card down on the small counter. The woman at the reception took a look at his licence and then nodded.

“If you’d like to come through you can help her with her bag. She’s not looking well at all,” the woman said and pressed a button that released the lock on the security door.

“Thank you.” He was heading towards the door before the words had left his mouth.

The sickbay was just by the door he’d come through and Rowan readied himself to see his daughter. What he hadn’t expected was to find the room empty besides her floral design backpack. Behind him Rowan heard the sound of a toilet flushing and then another door creaking open. He turned, ready to move out of the way of whoever needed it, but found Elsie instead. She looked awful, her face was devoid of colour and she was slouched over herself like she could barely hold herself up.

“Elsie, love,” Rowan said softly, resisting the urge to sweep her into like he would have when she was little.

“I threw up,” she said, sounding as miserable as she looked.

“I’ll grab your bag and we’ll head home.”

He heard Elsie take in a deep breath. “They gave me some sick bags for the car, they’re on the bed.”

Rowan spied them and picked the few plastic bags up as he swung the backpack onto his shoulder. Elsie was leaning on the doorway, arms wrapped around herself. It made his heart ache to see his little girl in so much discomfort. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her lean on him. She almost gave him her full weight. Rowan wasn’t going to press her while they walked to the car, it was clear all her effort was going into keeping herself upright. When they got to Rowan’s silver SUV he opened the door and helped her in. Elsie managed to get her seatbelt on before she slumped in the seat.

His lips tightened, he was nearly biting his lip. She was seriously unwell.

Whether or not he should just take her straight to the hospital was rolling through his mind as he got into the driver’s seat after throwing the backpack into the back. Rowan knew he was jumping the gun and that he needed to talk to Elsie first before he made that decision. Hopefully she would be well enough to have that conversation with him. He started the ignition and Elsie groaned as the vibrations unsettled her, he needed to find out what was happening before he gave himself a brain aneurysm.

“I know you’re not feeling great, love,” Rowan said, “but I need to know if I need to take you to the hospital or not.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Elsie replied, sounding like she was about to cry.

“What’s wrong then?” he pressed, sounding entirely like the concerned father he was.

In response Elsie heaved, and Rowan blindly handed her the sick bags he’d stuffed into the centre console. She managed to sort it out before the heaving started in earnest. Rowan just waited, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. When she was done Elsie grabbed a tissue to wipe her mouth, she chucked that into the bag before sealing it up.

“Elsie, love,” Rowan’s tone was near pleading now.

The first quiet sob shouldn’t have taken him by surprise, but it did. He risked a glance away from the road to see her with her face in her hands. Rowan didn’t want to push her but he was starting to panic. Something in his gut knew this was more than just a regular virus or a bug, and very honestly he was starting to have a suspicion and he was praying to the gods Elsie would deny it.

“Da,” the way she said that word had him bracing for impact, she hadn’t called him that in years. It reminded him of all those moments she had needed him when she was younger, when just the whisper of her voice and that single word would make him come running. Elsie took in a shuddering breath and said, “I’m pregnant.”

Rowan’s heart stopped in his chest. He’d heard her, but he couldn’t quite believe it. Elsie didn’t have a boyfriend, so if she was pregnant did that mean she had one but hadn’t told him? Had something else happened? If someone had hurt his baby girl Rowan might just be going to prison if he couldn’t get away with murder. That filled him with rage, so fast and fierce that he would need one of those vomit bags in a second. He’d skin whoever was responsible alive.

“Elsie, I know you’re feeling a lot and you’re probably freaking out right now, but I need you to tell me how this happened,” Rowan managed to get out as measured as he could. “I need to know so I can stay calm and do what’s best for you. You understand?”

“Yep,” was her simple answer.

“Okay, what I’m going to do is pull into that car park over there,” he nodded to the fast food restaurant just a little ways up, “and you can tell me everything and then we can go from there.”

There was a very loud sniffle. “Okay.”

Rowan nodded, bolstered with something to focus on. He’d once told himself that the first time Aelin went into labour was the longest night of his life, but as he cut through the traffic towards that car park this might be the new front runner. Five more minutes and he would have some answers, he could wait five more minutes. He’d waited hours and hours for Elsie to come into this world—this was nothing. The way his heart was pounding in his ears told him otherwise.

Pulling into a spot in the corner of the parking lot so they would be less likely to be disturbed Rowan turned the car off. He looked over at his daughter, her green eyes were still filled with tears and she was still looking deathly pale, but she looked a little better, like a little bit of weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now Rowan just needed to help her bear the rest of it.

“How long have you known?” He thought he’d start with something simple.

“About a week,” Elsie admitted.

Rowan nodded, his eyes focusing on nothing as he bit down on the reflex to ask exactly why she hadn’t said anything until now.

“Did someone…” Rowan swallowed as the words got caught in his throat. “Elsie, did someone hurt you?”

He watched his daughter intently, watching for even the slightest hint something was amiss. But Elsie just shook her head, her fingers absentmindedly weaving together.

“No one hurt me Dad, I promise,” Elsie said and looked up at him, the last bit of confirmation that told him she was telling the truth.

“So, there’s a boyfriend then,” Rowan theorised.

Elsie shook her head this time. “Not exactly.”

Rowan was taken aback by that answer. He’d expected an admission of a secret rebellious boyfriend. Teenagers were teenagers, and Rowan wasn’t ignorant of what they got up to. He’d been fairly mild himself but he had been privy to what his friends got up to in their spare time. Lorcan and Fenrys in particular didn’t hold much back in their storytelling. Elsie didn’t seem the kind for a careless fling, and yet here they were.

“Alright, not exactly a boyfriend. Who’s the—“ he literally stumbled over the word. This was a concept his brain was struggling to get up to speed on. And maybe he could do without knowing right now. “Can you enlighten me on the situation some more?”

Elsie’s fingers unwove, her hands were trembling a little.

“Elsie, what’s going on?” Rowan asked, his nervousness spiking again.

“I’m gonna tell you but you have to promise me you’ll let me get it through it all before you say anything, okay?” Elsie was sounding more herself so Rowan nodded. “It was a friends with benefits situation. We, ah… it was a trust thing  to start with and then we decided that it was fun I guess. I’ve been—“ while she spoke her emotions had built up again and tears were falling onto her cheeks. “I didn’t know how to say any of this. I didn’t want you to be disappointed with me.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking about right now.” Rowan tried to keep his voice even. It was passable. “Does he know?”

“He doesn’t. Only you do,” Elsie said.

“Alright, okay,” Rowan muttered, then he put on his bravest face—the kind only a parent could summon when they were reassuring their child when they weren’t all that sure themselves. “I think I need your mother before we talk more about this.”

Elsie laughed, wiping at her nose. “You always need Mum.”

Rowan smiled. “That I do. But first do you need anything?”

There was a moment of silence where Elsie just looked downright confused, like maybe she had expected him to drill her for more information or scold her or maybe just brood in silence. While those options were tempting, that was not what his daughter needed from him in this moment. It was clear she was hurting and probably scared out of her mind. Losing it on her in any way would not be beneficial and Rowan was starting to feel out of his depth. It was time to regroup with Aelin by his side.

“We could take our chances and see if the ice cream machine is working,” Rowan jerked his head towards the fast food restaurant. Elsie’s eyes lit up and she nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Rowan spent the rest of the drive home expecting Elsie to hurl her guts up again. He hadn’t been able to stomach one himself but it seemed the frozen sugar filled dairy was in fact what she needed. Just like her mother when she was pregnant. That thought was jarring to say the least and Rowan tried not to dwell on it. He just concentrated on getting home and how they were going to explain this whole thing to Aelin. They drove up the driveway and he stopped outside the garage door. Elsie was looking up at the house with wide eyes.

“No escaping this one,” Rowan said. “We go in, tell your mother, and then we talk about this some more, okay?”

“Is she gonna be mad?” Elsie's eyes darted over to her father.

Rowan sighed. “Probably, it’s going to be a shock and we all know Mum doesn’t take surprises well.”

“Unless she’s the one springing them,” his daughter added.

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Exactly. But remember love,” he touched her cheek to get her attention. “No matter what, we’re on your side.”

Elsie’s lips twitched in a brief smile. “You always are.”

“Now give me that bag of spew and you start getting yourself inside.”

Rowan hadn’t cleaned up Elsie’s vomit in years and it was as gross as it had always been. Regardless he still did it, throwing it in the trash then following Elsie to the front door. She was moving slowly, most likely waiting for him so they could face Aelin together. Rowan understood her hesitancy, and was understanding why Elsie had asked for him to pick her up. Aelin’s temper ran hot and fast, something Rowan loved about his wife. But it was sometimes hard taking the brunt of it and he hoped today she had a saint’s patience to level it out. This would test her.

Leading the way into the house, Rowan announced their arrival. “Fireheart, we’re home.”

“Finally,” he heard from the living room. “You didn’t text me anything, I was getting worried.”

Elsie grimaced at those words.

Rowan walked into the living room just off their entryway. “I was driving.”

Aelin barely gave him a second glance before she rushed past him and had Elsie in her arms. Her hands were checking for temperature, her turquoise eyes running a scrutinising gaze over her. From how awful Elsie still looked it was very apparent that something wasn’t right.

“What is it, Elsie? What’s wrong?” Aelin asked when she came up with no conclusions of her own.

“We should sit down,” Rowan said and Aelin’s eyes narrowed.

Elsie ended up in the armchair and Rowan took Aelin to the long couch by the hand. They sat down and Aelin kept hold of his hand as she cocked her head at him.

What is going on? Her suspicious eyes asked him.

Rowan sighed, giving Aelin a look of his own. We need to listen to her.

“Mum,” Elsie said, her voice sounding so small, but it drew their attention. “I need to tell you something.”

Aelin looked between her husband and her daughter, knowing that she was the only one in the room without the vital information.

“I’m listening,” Aelin said.

“I’m pregnant, Mum.”

“You’re what?” Aelin’s voice was sharp and Rowan gave her hand a squeeze as a quick reminder to stay calm.

Their daughter took in a deep breath and Rowan knew she was about to divulge everything. “I’ve been sleeping with Korbin, it’s a friends with benefits thing and one time we got careless and I thought I was at the part of my cycle where I couldn’t get pregnant but I did. And I’ve only known for about a week and I’m so scared, Mum. I’m… I just…”

By the end of her little speech Elsie was crying again but Rowan didn’t see it, he was busy watching the reactions from his wife. Aelin’s jaw was tight and he was sure that if it had been any quieter he would have heard her teeth grinding together. Rowan knew she was weighing her words before she spoke. Rowan found himself reeling at that new little bit of information Elsie had just dropped.

Rowan’s brain went painfully still. Korbin. Korbin was Elsie’s best friend since she could walk. He was just a year older and nearly all their lives they had been inseparable. This was a development in their relationship Rowan was struggling to get his head around. Seeing them together there had been no hint of romance, not ever. Korbin Salvaterre had got his daughter pregnant.

“Korbin?” Aelin’s voice was a little too high, clearly struggling just as much as he was.

Elsie nodded.

“Does he know?” Now she was sounding more lethal.

“No, only Dad knows and I told him today in the car,” Elsie said.

Aeln’s hand went to her mouth, her eyes going a bit distant. Rowan wasn’t sure if that was just shock or if she was planning some kind of slow torture on the Salvaterre boy.

“Fireheart,” Rowan prompted.

“Hmm,” she hummed but didn’t say anything else for the moment. “He’s ah… he was your best friend.”

Elsie swallowed hard. “He still is.”

“Are you in love with him?”

The question caught Rowan off guard, so much so he nearly jumped. He looked over to Elsie to see her reaction, a new wave of tears had started and she nodded furiously before she buried her face in her hands.

Holy gods Rowan had missed that entirely.

“Oh, my little love,” Aelin said and then she was moving, squeezing onto the armchair beside her daughter and wrapping her arms around Elsie’s shoulders.

This was a development Rowan wasn’t expecting. Today he not only found out that his daughter was pregnant to the son of his best friend, but also that his daughter was in love with that son and yeah, maybe he was going to be a grandfather by the time he was forty five.

“Elsie,” Rowan said and two sets of eyes landed on him. “What do you want to do?”

“We will support whatever you decide,” Aelin added without missing a beat.

“I want to keep it, I think,” Elsie said bravely.

Something flipped in Rowan’s chest at that but it was Aelin who said, “Okay, we can work with that.”

Elsie turned and threw her arms around Aelin’s neck and let her mother hold her close for a long while. It was Aelin who eventually pulled back, brushing Elsie’s blonde hair away from her tear stained face.

“Why don’t you go up and have a shower and then we’ll talk about this a little more,” Aelin said softly. “Make some plans?”

Elsie nodded and left, Rowan blew her a kiss that earned him a sad smile. When she was gone from the room he turned back to his wife who was sitting very still. “Fireheart?”

That sprung her into action and she was on her feet, pacing in a way that could only be described as furious.

“Pregnant,” she hissed. “Our 17 year old daughter is pregnant. How did this happen?”

The shock was leaving him and it was being replaced by something that was suspiciously close to delirium. “Um…”

Aelin threw a silencing hand in his direction. “Do not try and be funny right now.”

Rowan kept his mouth shut. His wife paced some more before she gasped on hand on her chest. She looked horrified.

“I’m going to be a grandparent,” Aelin turned so she was facing Rowan fully. “Not only that but I am going to be a grandparent with Lorcan Salvaterre.”

She said it like her worst nightmares were coming true, it made Rowan chuckle. Which in turn earned him a scathing look.

“We’ll get through this, Aelin,” Rowan said. “We always do. To whatever end, remember?”

Aelin came over and flopped onto the couch next to him, sighing and staring up at the ceiling. “Our baby is having a baby.”

Rowan pulled his wife closer and kissed her forehead. “Yeah she is.”

They sat there for a long while, just processing everything. The reprieve was broken when the front door was thrown open and as if summoned by the talk of children their two youngest ran in. They both yelled their hellos before running up the stairs.

“Evalin! Adaira! Shoes off please!” Aelin called after them. At 9 and 8 respectively the shoes off at the door rule was sometimes overlooked.

Their middle child closed the door for his siblings and did indeed take his shoes off.

“Thank you, son,” Rowan said to Cinaed. “Can you give the little ones a hand? We just need a moment.”

He shook his silver hair out of his turquoise eyes. “Sure Dad.”

“The bus with the other one should be here soon,” Rowan said, returning his gaze to the ceiling.

Aelin sighed, sounding tired. “Let’s hope he’s a little more quiet than the others.”

Rowan hummed his agreement and was preparing a speech about leaving their eldest sister be for the rest of the Whitethorn-Galathynius children when Finnian walked in. That was expected, but Rowan wasn’t prepared for who he else had stepped under his roof. Both Salvaterre boys walked in behind their own son and Aelin tensed beside him. Rowan rested a hand on Aelin’s knee to keep her where she was. Seeing Korbin after everything they had learned today was like putting a finger on the trigger of a gun. One wrong move and the calm they had managed to keep themselves in would be lost.

“Hey Aunty Aelin, hi Uncle Rowan,” Eamon said. “Finn said there would be snacks.”

“Of course he did,” Aelin breathed. “Finn, can you go upstairs and tell Elsie to stay in her room for a bit?”

“I heard Elsie came home early,” Korbin said, dropping his bag by the door. “I thought something was up, she hasn’t been talking to me as much lately.”

“Is that so?” Aelin bit out, if the boy had been smarter he’d be running for his life.

Korbin’s dark eyes were darting between the parents in the room. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Rowan thought he was doing a good job schooling his features. But now that he was a little more conscious of what he was doing he realised he was glaring.

“Finnian, now,” Aelin added when she saw that their son hadn’t moved. He groaned in that dramatic teenage way like he’d just been asked to run a marathon and loped towards the stairs.

Unfortunately, because he didn’t listen the first time, Elsie was halfway down the stairs before she saw who was in the living room. Her hair was still wet and she looked a bit brighter than she had before.

“Korbin,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

His face turned charming as he slid his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to see how you were. I heard around school that you were sick and I wanted to check on you. They said you threw up and everything.”

“Oh,” Elsie said, then her mouth clamped shut and tears were brimming in her eyes again.

The silence that developed was tense and Korbin moved towards the stairs, Elsie seemed frozen in place. Rowan was about to get up and step between them as his protective instincts rose to the surface but Elsie took her own initiative.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

Korbin took a single step back.

“Oh, shit,” Finnian said, reading the room a little too well.

“Yeah,” Korbin said, sounding as though he was in a daze and scrambling back a few steps. “Okay, yeah.”

And that was all he said before he just turned on his heels and walked right back out that front door. Rowan was up then, not quite believing what he’d just witnessed.

Eamon was confused, unlike Finnian he hadn’t quite caught on. “What just happened?”

Elsie was looking towards the door, stunned and any energy she had recovered drained right out of her again. In that moment Rowan hated that boy, he hated that through a few thoughtless actions he had caused Elsie so much pain. The only thing stopping Rowan from chasing after that idiot boy and hauling him back by the scruff of his neck were the tears in his daughter's eyes. He could only watch as Elsie fled up the stairs and Aelin rushed after her a heartbeat later.  

“What just happened?”

It took little Eamon voicing his confusion to get Rowan moving and he was heading up the stairs, taking two at a time. Elsie’s door was half way closed, but Rowan stepped through the doorway into the room. The sight that greeted him nearly broke his heart. Aelin had her arms wrapped around Elsie in a hug, his daughter wept and Aelin had unshed tears in her eyes. His wife looked over at him, her face set in a determined fierceness that told him that she would defend Elsie’s fragile heart at all costs.

Gods help that boy when his consequences came chasing after him.

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books​ // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara​ // @booknerdproblems​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady​ // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz​ // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @charlizeed​ // @feysand-loml​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​

[peachesandsweetflowers]

♧Romanice Spice♧

{Venti x Fem Reader}

{It's not sfw the way I like to write it personally}{All characters writen about are 18+}

{Modern witchy Au, same basic story with archons and all that jazz but in a modern setting!}

The moon was full the night was warm and next to you lay your soulmate, the Anemo archon himself.

You wore a soft silk white dress that barely covered your breasts when you moved in certain ways. Normally you'd never wear a dress like this out but tonight was a special date night with Venti.

The full moon was special for magic and you both loved escapeing to a nice space in the middle of the deep woods. Where spirits and seelie play!

On the walk in you were greeted by many seelie who loved to play with you on your usual hikes in the woods.

"How are you feeling?"

Ventis voice came softly in your ear, pulling you from your thoughts. You both had taken a small amount of edibles before laying down together. Opting to watch the stars as they kicked in. Both of you were usually broke but you'd saved up money from tarot readings and Venti's last gig at a cute Cafe to go to the local dispenser for some edibles.

Of course you both always got carded but once they saw your id's being both 25 everything was fine.

You take a deep breath and look up at the stars, you can feel yourself slowly relaxing from all the stress you'd been feeling recently.

"A little while longer I just wanna cuddle." You say as you nuzzle into your lovers chest.

"Works for me cutie, and remember if you end up changing your mind we don't have to" He pets your head. You smile at how understanding he always was.

You both continue to look up at the full moon, enjoying the warm night and gentle breeze. You gaze up and the jewel studded sky with its dazzling moon as it's crowning glory.

The world could wait when you were here, in the deep woods with your own personal freedom. The truama you've collected over your life from the deaths of your parents one after another, to a Cinderella-esque tragedy of having a step mother who abused you.

All of that vanished into the beautiful moonlit night, carried away by the wind.

You blush gently as you start to feel the mood coming on. You gently kiss your lovers cheek before tenderly placing more along his jaw. He smiles and you feel his arm wrap around you gently.

"Just tell me if you want to stop, I'll be nice and slow baby" He comes gently before taking your chin gently and kissing your lips. His warm soft lips pressing lovingly into yours, taking his time, enjoying how much he loves kissing you.

Like a fine wine. That's what you were. When he kissed you he had to savor it, every last moment. The joy and pleasure of just your lips, just one kiss, made his heart race. And yours too, he noticed.

He gently moved the two of you into a sitting position she he could gingerly hold your shoulders as he kissed you. Your hands always found their way to his chest, clutching onto his shirt shyly as he took his time with you.

"Y/N..." He murmured languidly between kisses. He wanted your permission to go a little further.

With a blush and a nod he wraps his arms around you and this time when he kisses you, it's got a little more heat to it.

You welcome his tongue into your mouth, you love the way he firmly holds you with you make out under the moonlight. It always made you feel so safe, so secure.

"V-Venti..." You mewl shyly in delight as one of those mischievous hands has found its way to your rear and is happily giving it a squeeze.

"Ehehe~" He just gives you a grin that's a mix of playful, lusty and shameless all at the same time.

"Sorry love, I just HAD to admire the work of art in front of me thoroughly!" He muses totally unashamed. He just loved you so much!

You huff but giggle at him and push him back a moment. He looks confused before you start to slowly strip off that already thin silk dress.

Hes absolutely aroused and ready as you sit before him on your side.

"Y...you could appreciate it more... if you wanted." You wanted to sound sassy but the shyness got to you.

He holds himself back from ravaging you. Don't scare her, don't scare her. He repeated in his mind. Keep calm Venti, keep your cool, go slow. But oh my God it was hard when you looked more delicious then even the finest wine.

He slowly crawled over to spoon you, his front to your back. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in with a firm hold.

"Little minx" He kisses your neck a few times before beginning to lick and suck on it tenderly. You didn't care much for pain, so he could only leave gentle marks on your neck. He didn't mind one bit. Those mischievous hands of his began to slowly roam your body, one hand on your beautiful breasts, the other traveling very gingerly between your legs.

You loved the way he pet you like this. The gentleness and consideration for your limits. You knew Venti was a horn dog and he was being VERY good right now keeping his enthusiasm in check. Not that he would ever hurt you or force himself on you, just that he was very energetic.

He gently stroked your heat, making you moan from the stimulation. Once he found your "button" as he called it. That's when things got a little more spicy.

You moan out as his hand teases that sensitive button. He was way too good at playing with you like this. He smirked as he used the wind to create a vibration like effect as he teased you, your nectar always flowed the best like this.

Watching you wiggle and move your hips into his hand made him smirk playfully. Using his free hand he gently pushed your face to the side so he could make out with you again while he teased you.

"Oh my precious love" He whispered between breathes "you are more beautiful then any star" He cooed "I love you so much my little princess"

"Oh Venti" you blush looking shy "I live you too! I love you!" You moan out the words before reaching a climax. Venti holds you as you come down from it.

"My sweet love, my most precious one, when you make so many cute noises like that, well it's just not fair! How could I resist such a radiant creature before me?" He teases looking remarkably aroused as he finally removes his own clothes.

You gently lay on the soft blanket, thankful your brought cushens to put under you as Venti crawled on top of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you both start to kiss again. God Venti did so love to move his tongue in your mouth, such a sweet taste. He loved this taste more then even wine!

When yoy came up for air he looked at you again and waited for your permission. Once he got it he very gently began to press himself inside of you.

You sucked in a small breath as he slowly stretched you out. He wasn't small by any means but he wasn't a giant either. His member just seemed to be the right size not to hurt you.

"We fit perfectly together" He smiled at you with only love and warmth in his eyes. "We fit together perfectly like a puzzle. You complete me. You are my moon" He couldn't help throwing some beautiful poetic romance at you. These moments were special to you both and he wanted to make your heart flutter like a butterfly!

Which it was! You civet your face shyly and he giggles.

"If you will be my moon, I will be your sun, I will live yo make you shine, and one day I'll help you fix those broken wings of yours" He swears before kissing you again, this time with a passion that only came from a man so truly unconditionally in love.

You pulled him closer, if that were even possible as began to thrust inside of you. His member hitting your core in just the right way to make you sing for him.

"Venti!" You moan out "Venti please-" you cling to him as he continues his pace. "Please what my love?" He groans in your ear. "What do you want your Venti to do?" He coaxed making you whimper in protest.

"A-ah.. a little f-faster" you manage to say as you blush wildy.

Venti covers those cute blushing cheeks in kisses before absolutely follow your orders. He begins to thrust into you faster and a little harder.

You cling to him now, nails clawing gently down his back as he naturally progresses from laying down to you bouncing on his lap.

"I want more" you mewl a little lewdly as the arousal takes over a little. "Take it all it's all for you darling" Venti was such a whipped man for you. He couldn't help but be more aroused when you got on top and let yourself get lost in the pleasure. A pleasure he would never deny you.

"Milk me dry baby~" He licks your earlobe making you twitch as you feel your big climax incoming.

"V-venti VENTI PLEASE!" Ypu begin to bounce roughly on his member and he takes your hips and firmly thrusts up into you, meeting you at every bounce to make the pleasure more intense.

You cling to him desperately as you cry out, riding him into the white hot pleasure of oblivion.

♧♧♧♧♧♧

When you wake from what you thought was just a blissful dream, you find that you and Venti have slept until the sun was high in the sky.

You shoot up in panic, your sex bed head in full swing as you try to wake your boyfriend.

"Venti wake up!! We fell asleep!!" You whine as the musician finally sits up still half asleep. It takes him a second to understand before panicking a little himself.

"Oh crap I hope no one saw you!"

You blush "me what about you!"

"Well if anyone saw you'd I'd have to charge them to see such a magnificent sig-" you throw a pillow at his face.

"Just help me pack I wanna go take a shower I can't believe we fell asleep in the middle of the woods!" You fret and he stifles a laugh as he adds

"Again!"

"AGAIN!!"

[kueruzu]

Guess who finally has the confidence to share the drabble they made based on the jumbled up Soul Eater divergence au they made up.

Me!

I do!

So this is a Soul Eater Canon Divergence drabble I did based on an au I randomly conjured up around Maka and Soul doing some “evil” shit.

Please note of something like this exists I had no idea of it!

Trigger/Content Warning:

This includes, Emotional Manipulation, Aggression, Chaining up/Imprisonment depicted (probably/assumably) incorrectly

There was no proof-reading either— Have f u n—

Here we go!

The cell floor hurt. Her legs hurt, again. The dripping water grated her nerves. The lack of things to pull her attention made her unfocused.

But she couldn't complain. She put herself there. She chose to do bad and for that long? It's a miracle Shinigami showed her mercy, even if she had been the one to outsmart his rules and get off without dying.

Was death that bad though? Compared to living in this dirty cell with her meals brought to her and someone coming in to make sure she exercised each day, death seemed like a nice release.

She looked up as the slider at the top of the door in front of her moved. Green eyes peered at her with pity before the door opened. She saw her chance immediately.

Were they dumb enough to send him of all people?

“Maka...”

Apparently so.

She began to struggle back as he approached, crocodile tears welling up.

“Go away! Go away!”

“Maka there’s no need fo-”

“You might as well have gagged me too! I never want to see you again! Go away!”

He kneeled in front of her, still a ways away for her comfort. Still ever the ‘caring’ father.

“You watched them... You let them lock me up...”

“Maka there was nothing I-”

No words or proper syllables came out, just a guttural scream in his face as the tears poured. He kept calm though, his expression was still soft. But she knew he’d crack. She just needed to hurt him more. Just a tad bit more.

“You watched them do it... You helped! You..! You..! You threw me away! You never lo-”

“Maka you know I love you-”

“LIAR!”

His composition began to crumble and internally she smirked. So close. So, so, so close.

“Maka, please...”

“No! You! Mama! Sid! All of you! You all loved it when I went off the deep end huh?! You were all waiting for it! You were so thrilled to get the waste of talent out the academ-”

“MAKA!”

Silence befell them again. Maka’s tears streamed down her cheek. Spirit watched her as tears welled in his eyes. Her head tilted down in shame as Spirit placed down the food he had brought. His hands lifted to cup soft cheeks as his thumbs brushed away the excess tears.

“Maka. I couldn't do anything. You... You did something unspeakable. You... It’s a miracle you weaseled your way out of being on his list... I know it doesn't seem like it but really, I do lo-”

“My arms hurt... Papa my arms hurt...”

In seconds he was leaning over, peppering soft kisses on her cheeks and atop her tears. She hiccuped and sobbed as he did, beginning to struggle in the restraints.

“Papa, Papa my arms hurt. Please, please they hurt a lot. Papa-”

Soon he was shushing her, trying to soothe her to the best of his ability without crossing lines. But she kept crying and struggling and she knew he was right at the edge of his rope. Soon he’d give in. But for now, she accepted the fake affections.

Mama, Sid, Stein, Him, even Shinigami-sama. She hadn’t been lying in her accusations. She knew they were true. She knew they all saw her as weak. She was nothing more than a burden for her team. They must have celebrated when she was gone. Kid, Star, those two must have been elated. She knew it. Deep down she could hear their voices so clearly, each hiding behind those fake words of praise. They either pitied her for being so unbelievably weak or wished she’d simply die in battle so they never had to see her again. All of them did, all of them still do.

Except him. Lord Death bless him, he never thought of her as weak. He saw her as a partner, an equal, his friend, his most prized and treasured person.

And soon she’ll find him again.

���I know it hurts. I know Maka... But soon you’ll get council with Lord Death or I. Then we can discuss the proper punishment. You just... Just need to stop trying to escape...”

She whined and he sighed.

“Just behave..? Please? It hurts. I know it hurts. But if you behave, your council won’t keep getting pushed back..!”

No response came from her. She could almost hear how he fell off the ledge.

“Maka? Maka? Sweetie? Please. Talk to me... I’m sorry..”

And just like that, she wrapped him around her little finger. Just a few more words and she’d be free from these chains.

“Papa...” she watched his face light up as she gently nuzzled against his warm palm, “Papa can you take them off? Can you take them off? The arm and leg cuffs. Please..?”

“Maka you-”

“Daddy please..?”

Like that, he was uncuffing her.

People are so easy with the right words.

Her arms fell to her sides and she shifted her legs. She smiled shakily, looking up at him and sniffling. Seconds after she was engulfed in a hug. Slowly, she hugged back, her arms snaking around his neck and returning the hug. Her head rested on his shoulder as she blabbered her apologies.

Not yet.

She pushed him away gently, trying to stand after the long hours of sitting with little movement. Shakily, she got to her feet, stretching and holding his hands for support. Giggles erupted from her and she looked up at him with a beaming smile.

A bit more.

He let her walk around him, fixing her balance all on her own. Soon enough she was hugging him again, burying her face in his chest. A solemn smile curled on his face when she looked up. He closed his eyes and hugged her against him.

Now.

She pulled away, Spirit still relaxed with their moment. She grabbed his wrists firmly, a quiet hum and escaping him in confusion before she pulled and kneed him in the crotch. With a yelp, he fell forward, the girl taking the opportunity to grab him in an unrelenting chokehold.

It took only a mere 50 seconds to knock him down, what with all his struggling and confusion. Plus, he wouldn’t dare hurt his ‘pride and joy’ of a daughter. She existed in his heart as his little ray of sunshine behind the clouds.

People are so easy with the right tricks.

His body was dropped to the ground with a decisive hum. She grabbed his ID card, the keys for her restraints, two pieces of gum to chew on, and snuck off, hoping to be able to use it in her endeavors.

She crept her way towards the door, peeking out to look through the hallways. Once deducting that the coast was clear she let herself out, silently finding her way to his cell. She popped a piece gum in her mouth as she did, much too happy to enjoy the treat.

They thought putting him far away would affect her soul perception? She could find him in a sea of doppelganger easier than an addict can find their next buzz. Soul was almost like her drug anyway.

After a few minutes of careful walking and dodging other faculty members, she found his cell. After looking through the slider to double-check that it indeed was him, she began to fiddle with the lock.

A few quiet curses slipped before she got it. Why was this whole place so easy?! It’ll like Shinigami-sama made it to cater for children!

The door opened and she hummed.

“Eat shit.”

“That’s no way to talk to me.”

His eyes shot up, widening with understandable confusion. Soon he couldn't deny who stood before him. Just as he realized it wasn’t some sick joke, she lunged.

She hugged him close, a hiss of pain the only response before he nuzzled his face against her hair. She took a deep breath in, enjoying the soft embrace.

When they pulled apart, reluctantly, of course, she began to uncuff him as well.

Soon enough, he was wrapping his arms around her and she was burying her face into his chest once more. Slender pianist fingers carded through blonde strands. Small and calloused hands gripped onto his sides like a lifeline.

“It’s only been like 18 days.”

“Three weeks.”

He nodded at her stern tone. She kept track of each day. Surely she wanted to escape right? Surely she wanted to get out right? Surely she wasn’t going to simply stay here till time ran out right?

“I missed you… Your hugs are warm.”

He chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hmm? Then I’ll have to give you more.”

A simple nod, “yes please.”

They both giggled, sighing and laying against each other before Maka stood, trying to get him to stand as well.

Footsteps came before she could.

The door slammed open and she yelped, falling against him instinctively. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to his chest protectively.

“Maka Albarn!”

Sid.

“Wait no!”

Papa?

“She’s good I swear!”

Sod stood in the doorway, managing a menacing glare at the two. While Soul glared back just as angrily, Maka held him like a vice. Actual tears welled up this time. She was so close to some sort of escape! Yet she ruined it with her sentimentality for him. She should have just took off the restraints and had him transform. It wouldn’t have taken so long and she’d probably cover more ground with a big fuckin scythe opposed to just sitting there like a dumbass.

“Sid stop it! She’s not all bad I swear!”

“She knocked you out!”

“We made a deal!”

Sid begrudgingly dropped his glare and stepped back. Spirit walked ahead of him, stopping in front of Maka.

“He-”

“I-I’m sorry. Don’t lock me away again. Please don't lock me away again.”

He sighed, crouching down in front of her. Vague memories of five-year-old her looking up at her cool Papa came to mind before she squashed them.

“I can’t say we won’t. But-”

“You hate me! You really hate me! You want to throw me away into a cell so you never have to see me again!”

“Maka no! I-”

“You’re gonna let him lock me away again! You’re gonna let him lock Soul away again! I bet you told Kid and BlackStar we would be fine! You lied to them too huh?! I-”

“Let him speak!” roared through the cell, abruptly shutting up Maka’s cries and Spirit’s sputters. After Sid’s demand, Spirit fixed his tie and opened his arms for her.

“We can sort this out, Maka. I know you wouldn't have done something like that. You’re your mother’s daughter. You grew up in Death City. You understand why Shibusen is so important. Please, let me help you.”

The room was quiet save for the dripping of water that wasn’t too far off due to a faulty pipe.

Maka glanced at Soul who only motioned with his head for her to move. She tentatively squeezed Soul’s hand before moving away to wrap her arms around Spirit’s neck again. He closed his arms around her torso, hugging her close and standing up straight. He turned to face Sid, smiling and humming as she latched to him. A smug look was thrown at the zombie and Sid sighed.

Spirit’s pained yelp pulled Sod from his relaxation. Maka jumped out his hands as Spirit crumbled. Soul, fixing himself back into position as Maka landed, shot a glare at Sid. Maka darted for the door, hoping to squeeze past him in his momentary shock but she should have known getting past an assassin would be no easy task on her own.

Her arms were grabbed and she was pinned before she could get ahold of what was happening. She squirmed and kicked, screeching about him putting too much pressure and hurting her. He retorted that the only reason she hurt was her own resistance. It didn't stop completely but she calmed.

Soul stood, about to attack Sid when Maka shot him a glare from against the wall. His body stiffened and he bit back the angered insult he was about to throw.

“Spirit this is the fifth time! If she’s so good, why is she so annoying! I wasn't the type of guy to give up but really! Don’t you think this is eno-”

With a hiss, Spirit got to his feet. But he fell over just as quickly. He shook his head, “She’s just-”

“Rebelling? Angry? A teenager? Misguided? Trust me I've heard them all. I've said them all. Spirit I'm taking her to the tighter cells. She already had the same treatment Medusa had but clearly-”

Her scream came out broken and shaken. Granted, that's exactly what she wanted, “Papa!”

Sid pitied the poor man. His daughter could manipulate him easier than Medusa did Crona and he couldn't see it. Love is blind and that doesn't stop when it’s familial.

Spirit ripped his pant leg, tying it around his wound. Soon he began to protest, began to sputter out some retort to make it so Maka wouldn’t be hurt. But both knew how this ended. All four knew despite two struggling against it and two keeping their tongues tied.

“A-Arachne had that moral manipulator, right? Sh-she must have done something to Maka to make her act like this..! Maka... Maka would never!”

Soul rolled his eyes in the background and Sid sighed.

“Spirit. You can’t prove that. Besides. Even if she did, Maka still did those things...”

Spirit sighed dejectedly, sitting down and nodded.

“Ain’t she your daughter? You’re really gonna abandon her like that. You are one messed up geezer-“

“Mr. Eater.”

The shark-toothed weapon looked up with disdain upon hearing his name but his words ceased.

“You’re to be dealt with ne-“

“Soul didn’t do anything!”

And like that, the room was silent for a moment. At least, till she began sputtering just like her father had earlier.

“I-I used the machine on him! H-he didn’t want to follow along with my plans! S-so I manipulated his morals to-“

Soul stepped forward, only stopped by Spirit’s outstretched hand. Maka kept going, looking at her father with some sort of appreciation even if it was small.

“I manipulated his morals to align with mine! A-along with his loyalty and trust! I did it! Please don’t-“

“The hell is wrong with you? Stop lying!”

She twisted and struggled to try and lock eyes with Sid. To an extent she was successful but now the cold stone pressed against her cheek. She whined, her eyes pleading as she continued.

“S-see! With the manipulation his loyalty only amplified! I did everything! I did it all of my own accord and dragged him along!”

“Maka shut up!”

“I take responsibility as the Meister!”

And yet again, silence fell upon them. Spirit hung his head and Sid nodded. Soul gawked. He was the first to break the silence.

“Y-you don’t believe her right..?! I-I’d follow her to the ends of the earth to keep her safe! I did that before! Come on,” he stepped forward, grabbing at Spirit’s suit sleeve, tugging it harshly, “You gotta believe me. If she’s getting put in some sort of solitary confinement then-”

Sid began to lead her out. Spirit kept his head low. Soul tried running after him but Spirit’s hand wrapped around his wrist was firm.

The last thing she heard before being taken away was Soul’s screams. They weren't painful. At least, not in the absolute physical sense. But they were pained. Both knew this was the end of their partnership. Neither accepted it easily. Yet everyone seemed to think it was for the best.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

okay, okay but hear me out!

Hiccanna, Moanida and Jackunzel (and maybe someone else if u want) going on a holiday trip together (it could be sea or lake or just swimming pool).

And that three couples playing "chicken fight game"~ When u have to sit on partner shoulder or ridding piggy-back and knock down or separate the other couple!

sksksks just imagine the fun and the chaos!! hahaha

Okay SO I recently watched Palm Springs so I’m just imagining The Gang going to like…a fancy pool resort in like Arizona??? SURE LET’S GO WITH THAT

I’m imagining the only resort the gang could afford to stay at is someplace out in the middle of Arizona or something

It takes a LOT of persuading to get Jack to go, because he haaaaates deserts. Rapunzel basically has to beg. Moana finally managed to bribe him with really good homemade ice slushies. (She’s used to making smoothies for Merida, so how hard can slushies be??? Just throw in some ice!)

Rapunzel offers to help Moana with the slushies, since she gave Jack SO many puppy dog eyes to get him to come. Since they’ve got two people working on them, they’re REALLY good slushies. Jack approves.

Anna also tries to convince Elsa to go, but the perpetually-single Elsa is just like “Um, deserts? Sunburns? Being indefinitely stuck with gross couples doing gross couple stuff?!? Yeah no thank you”

Hiccup tries to wake everyone up at like 6 am to go hiking because "that's when the desert iguanas are out guys!!! C'mon, we have to go!!!" Anna is only persuaded to go after Hiccup makes her coffee--she really wants to make her bf happy, but also mornings can suck her dick. Rapunzel is more than happy to go, because she loves mornings anyways!!! And oh my god, IGUANAS!!! Jack, Merida, and Moana are like "oh FUCK no" and put the pillow back over their head, shoo Hiccup away, and go back to sleep.

On their hike, Hiccup just goes "!!!!!!!" about every reptile he sees. Snake, lizard, horny toad, literally anything with scales will send the boy into an excited frenzy. Rapunzel has similar reactions. Anna could not love both of them more.

At one point, they stumble across a gila monster sunbathing, and Rapunzel is overtaken with the unwavering desire to adopt him. She gets Hiccup on board, and he tries to lure the lizard over with a dusty piece of a snake carcass he found (Anna tried to tell him he really shouldn't touch that, but he was not to be swayed and Anna ended up figuring he could just wash his hands really well when they got back). Anna finds herself in the unusual position of having to be the Voice of Reason, having to be like “hey uh I think this might be illegal and stuff??? Also aren't they poisonous???”

(I know what you're thinking. Bold of you to assume Anna knows the difference between poisonous and venomous.)

Rapunzel literally CANNOT stop gushing to Jack about all the wildlife she saw when she gets back! Jackrabbits! Kangaroo rats! Roadrunners! Peccaries! Centipedes! Jack has only mild to moderate interest in desert ecology, but loves hearing his gf gush so he listens attentively anyways. 

Anna and Rapunzel definitely hit up the gift shops in the resort town at some point, and go ABSOLUTELY BATSHIT HOGWILD buying gifts for everyone. They probably max out their credit cards. It's embarrassing, really. But Anna gets Hiccup an absolute shitton of those little wall lizard things and he nearly cries tears of joy when he sees them, so it's all worth it, really.

Moana will not leave the pool like. The entire time. The girl is just obsessed with being in the water, honestly. She gets restless, though, and can't just stand in the pool and vibe--she needs to constantly be moving and swimming around or she'll explode. Merida is more than happy to indulge her by hanging out in the poor with her, but Merida is also constantly challenging her to swim races--a very dumb idea, considering Moana is on the high school swim team and water polo team. Merida, naturally, is an extremely sore loser and is not above excessive pouting, splashing, yelling in angry Scottish, and dunking her girlfriend in revenge. It's at least entertaining for all of their friends to watch.

Jack keeps fucking taking huge buckets of ice from the ice machine and dumping them in the pool. At first he only does this because he keeps griping about the pool not being cold enough (this boy will accept nothing less than sitting in the goddamn arctic ocean), but after her figures out that it pisses off his friends, he takes to pouring said ice directly over their heads. Merida has threatened to murder him several times for this.

Hiccup and Anna's main pool activity is just lazing around on their pool floaties (Anna has a duck one, Hicccup has a dragon one because obviously), sipping cocktails, and just generally vibing. Through some ungodly mixture of pure charisma and a fake ID that Rapunzel helped photoshop, Jack manages to talk his way into getting the whole group access to alcohol. Hiccup is a sangria or Moscow Mule kinda guy while Anna usually gets a Pina Colada or a Sex on the Beach (she's aspec, so she literally will not stop joking about the irony of this). Merida makes a game out of attempting to tip over their floaties and dunk them. Jack, chaos gremlin that he is, puts aside his usual rivalry with Merida to join in. They have a surprisingly strong dunking alliance.

Hiccup and Anna try to form a syndicate of their own, and try to lounge on the same floatie so that they can protect each other while fighting off Jack and Merida together. Unfortunately neither of their floaties were made to hold 2 peoples' weight, so the one they're on ends up tipping over, spilling their cocktails everywhere and dunking them anyways. Jack and Merida consider this a Win By Default.

Moana of course loops everyone into playing water polo at some point. Unfortunately some idiot decided it would be a good idea to let Merida of all people pick the teams, which means of course that they are incredibly rigged. It's Moana, Merida and Anna vs. Jack, Rapunzel, and Hiccup, so basically The Jocks vs. The Nerds (although admittedly Anna is more of a softcore jock--she's nowhere near on Moana or Merida's level, but she's still more naturally athletic than Hiccup, Rapunzel, or Jack). Naturally, Jock Team absolutely whoops Nerd Team's ass. Jack gets salty and demands a rematch. ...Jock Team kicks Nerd Team's ass again.

Throughout all of this, no one thinks to just...rearrange the teams a little. Merida was counting on this. All according to plan.

In the titular chicken game (yes, I remembered, don't worry!), it's Merida on Moana's shoulders (Moana swims and has a lot of upper body strength, what can I say?), Hiccup on Anna's shoulders (I mean...Hiccup's a twig, and Anna HAS to have a fair amount of upper body strength from throwing busts around and punching men off boats and such), and Punz on Jack's shoulders (Jack's pretty lithe and good at keeping his balance while jumping around, so he's their best candidate for not just falling over).

Jack and Rapunzel actually manage to stay in the game longer than anyone expects--their primary strategy is “be good at dodging and staying out of the way while Merida and Hiccup duke it out.” And it works! As limber as Hiccup is, Anna's not nearly as coordinated as Jack and is no match for Moana's sturdy footing. Also, neither Anna nor Hiccup are prepared for how goddamn ruthless and determined to win Merida is. Even though they really, really should have been. I mean...have you met Merida???

When it comes down to Merida-Moana and Rapunzel-Jack, Mer feels a little bad for having to go up against Pure Sweet Punzie. Unfortunately, Rapunzel turns out to be a very hardcore fighter when she puts her mind to it, and Merida is much more evenly matched than she initially thought and realizes she must use her Full Power. It definitely helps her snap out of Going Soft when Jack starts brutally roasting Merida in particular (as per usual). Merida gets a rage-fueled Second Wave, and finally manages to knock Rapunzel over in one foul swoop. Merida and Moana are victorious!

Moana and Merida basically always shower together after a day at the pool. They claim it's because they both know how to handle curly hair in chlorine, and just like to wash each other's hair, but the rest of the gang is pretty sure that's not all that's going on in there.

One day, Anna hits up the resort town alone to buy some kind of secret gifts for her friends with what little money she has left (this girl seriously has no chill when it comes to buying presents).  She goes past this huge, fancy ice cream shop and she's like “!!!! OMG!!! I'm gonna surprise all my buddies with pints of their faves!!!” She just gets super hyped and buys everyone ice cream, getting so caught up in the thrill of it that she forgets that she'll have to like. Drive all this back all the way back to the resort in the rental car. In like. You know. 110+ degree weather.

By the time she gets back to the resort, the ice cream is, of course, goop. Poor Anna, feeling incredibly dumb and like an utter failure of a friend, just kind of bursts into tears. Like damn. This is too much. She was gonna make all her pals so happy, and all for naught! Jack just kinda shrugs and throws all the melted ice cream cartons in the freezer anyways. Once they're (partially) re-frozen, Rapunzel and Moana make slushies with them. They actually come out pretty decent. Anna is substantially cheered up.

Moana prepares some tropical fruit platters for everyone to snack on. Rapunzel tries to “improve” them by adding chocolate sauce and nutella to half of them. Sometimes it works (I mean...bananas and strawberries with chocolate and/or nutella is pretty solid). Other times it just tastes...very weird. Merida gest frustrated and yells at Rapunzel for “ruining all of her girlfriend's good mangoes.”

Jack just thinks this whole thing is so funny, and decides to swap the chocolate sauce with barbecue sauce to cause further chaos. Absolute mayhem ensures. Everyone has a bad time. Except for Anna, who apparently is just a freak who enjoys eating pineapple slices dipped in barbecue sauce.

At some point, Merida gets really drunk on appletinis or some shit and signs the entire group up for a local archery competition. Much to everyone's chagrin, it's no refunds. Naturally, basically everyone sans Merida does terrible. Rapunzel and Hiccup very nearly shoot themselves, while Jack and Anna come very close to  accidentally shooting a group of referees (although Jack might have done this on purpose). Moana gets the farthest, if only because Merida's taught her how to shoot a bow at some point. Merida actually ends up winning--although unfortunately, the prize is $20 and a very cheap plastic trophy (which Merida STILL manages to find a way to break before the trip is even over).

The rest of the group is much more amicable to the concept of going on hikes when said hikes are in the evening. Hiccup and Rapunzel are still excitedly chattering about the local ecosystems the entire time, and Jack and Anna are just kind of looking at their nerdy SOs like “<3 <3 <3″ Moana and Merida, meanwhile, are just kinda vibing in the back, passively listening in and watching the desert sunset.

Rapunzel manages to capture Mer and Mo's interest and gets them to participate more with geology, of all things. Merida just thinks rocks are cool (especially when they can be thrown at people bothering her!), while Moana likes learning about the physical history of places--how water can carve out landscapes, and all that. Hiccup and Jack just kind of exchange a look like “I had no idea that they were into rocks, but...the more you know, I guess???”

Jack makes fun of every reptile they see, mainly to piss Hiccup off. Unfortunately it has the opposite effect, and Hiccup can't help but be entertained--mainly because Jack's insults are so weirdly specific and over-the-top that they loop around to being hilarious. Seriously, he keeps saying shit like “Those are the lamest scales I've ever seen. Absolutely drab, and not nearly shiny enough to prove that nature is beautiful. 0/10.” and “Ohhhh, this fucking rattlesnake think's he's so scary, with his dumb percussion instrument tail!!! I could be more intimidating with a mean look and a large pair of maracas!”

At some point, a bunch of tourists riding donkeys pass them. Anna, Rapunzel, and Merida just absolutely lose their shit fangirling over how cute the donkeys are, thus exposing all three of them as the unabashed Horse Girls they are. Hiccup, Jack, and Moana find this extremely amusing, and definitely aren't above teasing their girlfriends about it. Hiccup asks if next time they take a couples' vacation, the Horse Gang (as Moana insists on nicknaming them) would like to go to a ranch instead.

Anna gets like. Obsessed with palm trees. Like they're just so pretty and exotic and tropical!!! OMG!!! And they definitely don't have them wherever the gang is from in this AU. (Also if griping about Elsa not having "tropical powers" is anything to go by, she DOES canonically like the tropics!) She has to take a picture of like...every palm tree on her phone. And considering the gang is in Arizona, that means Anna is stopping to take a picture like...every 2 minutes. Rapunzel catches onto the fact that Anna likes them, and paints her a picture with some when Punz has the time. Anna definitely cries when she sees it. Hiccup can't do nearly that good, but he does buy her some little plastic figurine ones in a gift shop that she can put in her room. Anna also cries about this. She just cries whenever any of her friends indulge her random fixation on palm trees. Surely she doesn't deserve such niceties!!!

Rapunzel is just. In love with the desert landscape tbh. Like the huge funky cacti!!! The shrubs!!! The desert wildflowers!!! The mesas!!! All of it!!! So of course she needs to pull out her easel and paint it. Jack walks by one day and sees her working on it and, partly just to troll her, he's like “put some snow in it!” As he walks away, Rapunzel just stops like “wait...that'd actually be such a great idea for a surrealist-type fantasy piece!!!” After she finishes the main landscape, she adds an overcoat of little puffs of snow on top of everything, and has some clumps falling off of the cacti. When she shows Jack, he just about cries tears of joy, but frantically tries to hide it. She gives the painting to him as a present at the end of the trip. He hangs that shit front-in-center in his room and cherishes it forever and ever.

At some point, Jack gets the ingenious idea that he's going to prank Merida by catching a tarantula and leaving it in her room. It's one of the harmless ones--Jack fact-checks this by offhandedly asking Hiccup and framing it as a casual interest in local etymology. Still, Merida screams far louder than is at all dignified, and also probably loud enough to wake a neighboring country. Rapunzel later has to physically hold Merida back to keep her from absolutely beating Jack into a pulp. Rapunzel also manages to get the World's Largest Sheet of Cardboard and the World's Largest Cup and somehow manages to get the damn thing back outside.

[chidoroki]

Norman - 22194

March 21st is here and it’s time for yet another birthday post. I already rambled on about Emma and Ray on their special days, so now it’s finally time to complete this full-score tradition with Norman. It might not be as detailed or long as the other two, since he was absent for a good chunk of the story, but it doesn’t make him any less important! I’ll be honest now, the boy isn’t my favorite character (he doesn’t place anywhere in my top ten for this series either) so I probably missed some moments worth mentioning but I did my best to praise this child anyway!

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m once again going from start to finish with this.)

Since I want to stay consistent with the other two posts, this will focus on the manga timeline, as season 2 is, well.. it’s own thing. I’ll mention some things but don’t count on much. With that, let’s go.

- He achieves a perfect score on Grace Field’s daily tests, alongside Emma and Ray.

- He is, without a doubt, the smartest kid the house has ever seen, as he passes each test flawlessly and has maintained a 300 average.

- He’s a complete strategist who is capable of achieving victory (even in something simple as tag) by observing his opponents moves and analyzing their weaknesses in order to counter.

- Knows how to pick locks. The scene from ch1 was left out but we see him doing so later on in ep02.

- Stays relatively positive and calm after learning about the truth of the farm.

- Even going as far as giving Emma a reassuring smile, which I think is impressive given the literal nightmare fuel they’ve just witnessed. 

- I’m giving him half credit for suggesting the idea of there being tracking devices, since anime has him reveal this possibility while in manga it’s Emma.

- Both of them realize what determines the shipping order and that the demons favor their brains.

- This silly panel that I love dearly.

- Made sure to do a sweep of the entire house beforehand to make sure their escape planning doesn’t get pick up on.

- Figures out that Isabella only knows the children’s locations when she checks the tracker and that it can’t identify who is who.

- Has the nerve to lie right to Isabella’s face.. not that she believes it, but still gutsy nonetheless.

- Knowing the house probably wouldn’t have any rope, it was his idea to use the spare tablecloths.

- Had a feeling that Ray would reveal the harsh reality of how dangerous it would be to escape with all the children, which turns out to be correct.

- His laugh in ep02 is so precious.

- This statement being 100% accurate.

- Manages to convince the logical Ray, who we know now has spent many years coming up with a solid, safer escape plan, to join in and assist with their crazy and reckless plan instead. Having Ray on their side also grants them many advantages.

- Absolutely hates to lose, which is a good mentality to have in a world where your life is a stake and your time is limited, which eventually leads him to consider every possible opportunity to stay ahead of his enemies throughout the remainder of the story.

- Realizes that the trackers must only send out a signal upon being broken, which we found out to be true in Ray’s one-shot chapter.

- - Him looking completely terrified in this panel.

- He managed to catch all the Grace Field kids in a game of tag even after they received advice from Ray about how to survive longer.

- The goddamn intimidating energy he gives off here is fantastic.

- Despite his body being physically weak, he manages to survive and win against Krone during their game of tag.

- Just like Ray some couple chapters ago, Norman is completely serious about this idea.

- Suspects there’s a traitor among the kids and swiftly comes up with a plan to lure them out.

- This panel of him “dead” from the first side story.

- He has a feeling the spy is Ray, so he moves up the day of the escape to catch him off guard and send him into a panic.

- Even though the anime didn’t include it, he managed to throw off Krone as well with some fake footprints to keep her off their backs.

- Was honestly considering on leaving the spy behind while the rest of them escaped, though he doesn’t seem real happy about the idea, considering the traitor is Ray.

- His plan on fishing out the spy was flawless as he finally calls Ray out by revealing that the information he gave about the ropes and where he hid them were fake locations.

- Not only was Ray the first one Norman suspected, but he caught onto him way back when Krone first came to the house. All the information Ray was feeding them helped Norman come to this conclusion as well.

- Along with Emma’s words about believing that no one in their family is truly bad, Norman refrains from cutting Ray off to allow him to become their trump card. This was a risky move itself, knowing Ray could sell both him & Emma out at any time. Norman tends to prioritize victory, so while staying alive is absolutely necessary and that could’ve been achieved without Ray (as he could’ve just used Ray then ditch him later), he still decides to make the offer as realizes that in order defeat Isabella, Ray’s full cooperation is essential.

- Realizes that it was Ray who hid Little Bunny in the first place and lead Norman and Emma to investigate the gate that night, which leads him to believe that Ray isn’t really an enemy.

- He’s also left handed. Yes, that’s important. Not only for later in the story but because we’re superior. I’m sorry y’all had to find out this way. 

- This stupid, little face he makes.

- Suspects that Ray doesn’t actually plan on escaping at all and intends to kill himself.

- Just like Emma and Ray, Norman also recognizes and understands morse code.

- Look at this precious child, not even angry after getting punched and knocked over. (because i certainly would be)

- Finds Ray’s hidden supply of oil which confirms the method for his future suicide. This also helps Norman later on when he comes up with a refined escape plan by using the fire Ray plans to start.

- Figures out Krone’s true intention about why she wants to join forces with the kids in the first place. 

- He ends up accepting Krone’s offer anyway, because despite the large risk, any information that can snag out of her would benefit them.

- You mad lad, look at you, taunting the bringer of death yet again while a smile on your face.

- And he still manages to find some strength to smile while upon death’s door.

- Not for long though, as once he’s given the chance to be alone, he finally breaks down. Having the cup overflow with water really helps demonstrate how impactful the thought of dying hit him as Norman was overcome with so many emotions that he didn’t even have the strength to hold onto the cup or his facade. It’s then he starts to feel scared and sorry for himself but away from Emma and Ray’s eyes as to not worry them.

- His entire internal monologue as he comes to terms with his unfortunate situation and flips back to his determined “I can’t lose” attitude to help everyone else escape. Also, his theme ‘22194’ hits especially hard.

- For someone with weak, physical abilities, he manages to climb the wall on his own.

- Though the cliff stopped his escape, he used that opportunity to survey the surrounding area of the entire farm to rely his findings to the duo and provide them a safer escape route.

- Completely adamant about his decision to accept his shipment in order to give the rest of his family a chance to escape. (hell, id’ be terrified right now)

- This hug that is sure to break everyone’s hearts.

- Quick to react to Emma’s last ditch effort and prevented her from slamming her already busted up leg into the ground.

- Not only did he predict that Ray would start a fire to distract Isabella and on which day, he also left behind the pen and key he received from Krone along with a new, detailed plan (which he managed to come up with in only a few hours by the way) that would allow the kids to cross over the cliff.

(post season one spoilers below. again, focusing on the manga timeline, so any new season 2 events will be mentioned sparingly.)

- Like Ray, Norman was able to figure out how the pen worked well enough to see Minerva’s message regarding B06-32.

- Since he doesn’t show up again for quite some time post-escape, there isn’t much to talk about.. but at least I can make fun of him thanks to extra pages, like how he wouldn’t have enough strength to use a bow.

- But hey, props to s2ep10 for actually giving us Norman shooting an arrow. He was pretty decent with it too, as he hit his target on the first try behind a darn smokescreen. The manga did show him holding a bow in ch161, but that’s it.

- Not relevant to the actual story at all, but his smarts certainly make anything possible.

- I’m sorry but these tiny failures of his bring me great joy.

- Though the tests at Lambda are harder than those at Grace Field, Norman still managed to get every question correct. Every single day he was there. Even when the facility manages to increase the difficulty of the tests, he continues to pass each one with flying colors.

- Since he noticed someone who’s right handed also takes the same tests he does, he makes an attempt to communicate with them via a Rubik’s cube. He waits patiently for five months until he finally gets a response from Vincent around Christmas 2046. 

- Dealt with the experiments/drugs that were forced onto him and the seizures that resulted from them.

- Even with the tight security and surveillance, he somehow acquired explosives and successfully blow up Lambda and escapes with the survivors.

- Again, not significant to the story, but seriously dude? You just fainted and yet you still get this crazy question right effortlessly?

(post time-skip)

- Contacts Lucas moments before the B06-32 shelter gets blown up and gives him the numeric code that eventually leads Emma’s group to the “Jaw of Lion.”

- Destroyed numerous mass production farms since his escape from Lambda.

- As well as save countless children from other farms and used the Paradise shelter found by Smee’s network to give them a sense of safety and taste of a normal life.

- The darn glow-up he receives, like sweet lord child, are you sure you’re still 13??

- - His cute, squishy cheeks though!

- He may look like he’s in his thirties, but still has the strength of a child. (see anime? this is how strong ray’s slap should have been!)

- Learned a great deal of demon history and gave that lengthy lesson about the demon’s genetics and how they inherit the characteristics of whatever they eat and evolve accordingly. 

- With Emma’s wish about saving everyone and lively happily still on his mind, he thought of a safe and certain method in order to create such a future for all the children raised as food.. which ends up being complete extermination of all the demons caused by a civil war. His plan also includes ending the Ratri clan as well. How cheerful.

- Are you surprised to learn that Norman getting tackled by the younger kids is my favorite panel of him?

- You weak, little bean, I’m sorry I enjoy making fun of you so much.

- Successfully forms an alliance with Lord Geelan and his clan by offering revenge on the royal family, the five regent houses, as well as the Ratri clan, thus putting Geelan in full control. In return, it would grant Norman the full release of farm children, permission to self-govern and some much needed power in terms of demon strength.

- He knows full well that the entire alliance is a lie and both parties are only using each other, though in works in his favor, as it will send the demons to destroy each other without the lose of any human lives.

- This absolute powerful panel that the anime decided “nah, we’re gonna change this too” because they’re cowards.

- Narrowed down possible locations on where to find Sonju and Mujika. Sure it was with the intention of killing our demon friends but his map was accurate.

- Survived who knows long with his seizures at level 4, and because of his severe condition, he’s completely set on following through his plan and succeeding before his time runs out.

- Seems to enjoy blowing stuff up, such as the imperial city’s bridges to send the place into a panic and trap all the citizens.

- Advised the Lambda crew on how to effectively fight against the queen by attacking relentlessly.

- Let loose a poison that causes not only normal demons to degenerate, but the royal family as well, such as the five regent heads and the queen who’s name is too long and complicated for me to ever remember, who all have the cursed blood. (at least that’s how effective it was in manga, in anime it did absolutely nothing to vylk)

- He somehow managed to learn, speak and understand the demon language, which, according to Shirai (vol16 author notes), is actually an uncommon language nowadays. (and we’ll unfortunately never know how this language actually sounds, thank anime..)

- Do I even praise him for killing a demon and well.. all this? Sure in the anime he tried killing Vylk, but old demon was fair more innocent compared to the royal family, so I have no idea.

- I will give season 2 some credit and say I prefer their take on the “right now you look like a small child, shaking with fear” panel.

- But not too much credit, as they didn’t give us the full trio hug as the manga did!

- Then again the anime did have him about to apologize to Vylk and Demon Emma for his actions, which is something, I suppose? since in ch154 he says he didn’t regret killing the queen and royals, which I guess is justified because they were the bigger problem, but oh well.

- Might have apologized to Ayshe for killing her father? Can’t be sure but that’s the unanimous consensus in the fandom right?

- Instantly comes up with counter moves and directions for the entire group upon hearing the enemies locations from Vincent during the GF raid.

- I honestly can’t look at this panel anymore and not laugh about it.. because reasons.

- He just keeps on winning. (also he looks real good here, i’ll give him that.)

- He and everyone else are skeptical about there being no “reward,” and for rightfully so.

- Upon learning that Emma is missing after everyone crossed over to the human world, they all adopt her optimistic attitude and swear to find her no matter where she might be.

- After a stressful two year search, the kids finally find Emma and Norman is so overcome with emotion that he busts out into tears of joy, despite finding out that she lost her memories due to the reward. All that matters to him is that Emma was safe and happy and he accepts her just the way she is.

And I guess.. that’s it. I’m sorry again, I know this is truly the weakest post out of the trio and I have no doubt I glanced over a whole bunch of great moments but it still had to be done! Making fun of him probably wasn’t the best thing to do on his special day either, but I assure you this child is very powerful. Who else do you know that is capable of sending an entire fandom into a panic and rage furiously by just simply showing up?

Ah ha okay, now I’m done. In all seriousness though, this lad is great and through everything he has endured, he definitely deserves to be celebrated today, so happy birthday to our boy Norman!

[wrienne]

My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 2: Confrontation

Okay, you took that back. His mother was actually a nice lady. It was his father that was the problem.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Jeon Jungkook, your fiancé, had a girlfriend.

Park Yi-Jae approached the sink next to yours and began washing her hands gingerly. Her pale skin looked even whiter than it did on the advertisements, though you couldn’t judge if it was due to good genes, make-up or the pallid glow from the ceiling lights. Public bathrooms always had horrible lighting.

You had to admit, however, that she was still pretty.

In fact, she was prettier in real life. Advertisements peeled off a sliver of humanity from the people starring in them and even dramas had managed to dull a bit of her glow. Or it was perhaps her “imperfections” that enhanced her beauty. The slight crook of her nose, the slight droopiness of her ears, the slight imbalance between her upper and lower lip - every slightness.

Jungkook’s jacket was a thick denim jacket but with sleeves and a hoodie made of that typical cozy, oversized gray sweatshirt material. You remembered that it had been fitted on Jungkook, but on Park Yi-Jae, it was several sizes too large. She had even folded up the sleeves, revealing thin wrists and fingers. She had a slender, graceful neck - like a swan’s - and around that neck, curving after the shape of her clearly visible collarbone rested the thin golden chain necklace you had bought Jungkook. You were absolutely certain, for you had spent hours upon hours contemplating its unique design, and stared at it for even longer after you had had it forged to make sure it was according to your liking. It had been the first present you had given him after your engagement, and you had wanted it to be special. Something he would remember.

And here it was, in the possession of another girl.

Jealousy raised its ugly head and told you to snap. You managed to ignore it. Honestly, you weren’t exactly in love with Jungkook or anything. You rather despised him. But you were not going to stand him cheating on you. Not when you two would eventually have to get married.

Though, was that even an option any longer? If your parents found out about this, the engagement would definitely be canceled. Was this, in a way, your ticket out of soon-to-be-horrible-marriage town? Was this good for you?

Noticing you staring at her, stuck in your swirling thoughts, Yi-Jae glanced at you and smiled politely. “Finally finished for the day?” she asked in a light, fluttery voice. “You and the rest of the coordi-unnies have all worked very hard and deserve at least a week of rest.”

This caught you off guard for a moment, and you were just about to open your mouth and tell the “truth” - that you were simply there to grab your keys - when an idea popped into your head. “Yeah,” you replied quickly, mustering up your friendliest smile. Surprisingly, it hurt to smile at her. “I’ve been here since early morning with a few others. I’m exhausted.”

Your smile must have looked as painful on your face as it had inside your chest, because she gave you a sympathetic look. “I bet. The boys are lucky to have you. At least you’ll get some rest on your flight overseas.”

“Yeah,” you repeated, not knowing anything about a journey overseas.

You continued to wash your hands, rubbing and scrubbing them in a way that falsely indicated that you had gotten something sticky on them. You waited until Yi-Jae was done washing her own hands before you followed her toward the hand-drying air machines. When she was content, you remained at the machines, praying fervently that the plan would work.

“Want to head back together?” she finally asked, raising her voice over the violent whooshing of the machine.

You nodded and then followed her toward the door when you remembered the security guard that had escorted you around. He would probably not be fine with you following her, since he knew you weren’t a… had she meant a coordinator? What even was that?

“Wait,” you blurted as you halted.

“What is it?” she asked, turning around with her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“There’s this guy,” you began, hoping your lie wouldn’t sound as outrageous out loud as it did in your mind. “He’s in security and he has been harassing me for my number all day. He’s waiting just outside the bathroom right now. I’m kind of scared he’ll follow me on my way home or something. If you could just do something to help me get away from him, I’d be really grateful.”

Yi-Jae’s eyes widened in dismay. “You sure you shouldn’t just report this to the manager?”

You shook your head. “I’ve only just begun working for him, I don’t even have the ID card yet.” Inwardly, you made a fist-pump at the brilliant idea of mentioning your obvious lack of identification. Outwardly, you were trying your best to portray the young, timid intern. “I don’t want to get in trouble already.”

“It’s not being trouble, you should know,” she said softly. “But I understand the need to prove oneself, and girls need to stick together.” She gave you a wide smile. “What will you have me do?”

She was really sweet. You almost felt bad for her. Almost.

“If you could perhaps tell him that you would like to talk to me backstage or something,” you answered, “I can take that chance to slip out of here through one of the back entrances. Make it sound like you’re really angry at me or something, like I’ve misbehaved or insulted you. He’ll probably stay away from Park Yi-Jae. You’re kind of famous, you know.”

She giggled. “Sounds like I’m some kind of mafia boss.” She quickly gathered herself into a sober expression. “But if he tries to bother you again in the future, you need to seek out the manager. Promise me?”

Okay, you were kind of getting a bad conscience. In another universe or timeline, you two might have made good friends. Fortunately, with a single glance at the necklace on her skin and his jacket on her torso, your determination was renewed.

“I will,” you said, managing what you hoped looked like an anxious or at least shy smile. It wasn’t really difficult to muster, since what you were doing practically was trespassing, and that, under the cover of false employment. This was probably illegal. You could already imagine the media slaughtering your family’s name and the brand that had made your late grandfather so very affluent, should you be caught.

“Come on,” Yi-Jae said as she pushed the bathroom door open.

With a nod, you followed her out. The security guard, who thus far had deadpanned you, wore a confused expression when Park Yi-Jae hooked her arm around yours and began dragging you in the same direction you had come.

“I need to speak with her,” she told him coolly. “If you would be so nice as to return to your post.”

He opened his mouth to say something but Yi-Jae interjected. “No protests. She’s mine for the moment.”

“If you’re sure,” he said hesitantly, not really relenting.

“I am.” She strode away from him. When you two were far enough away that it was safe to speak, she muttered: “Creep.”

“Thank you,” you blurted, feeling genuine relief washing over you.

"But of course,” she said cheerily, letting go of your arm. She continued down the hallways, surprisingly quickly considering her short stature, and you had to strain in order to keep up with her. “Do you have a ride? It’s kind of late for a girl to walk home all alone.”

“Actually, I don’t,” you lied with artificial sheepishness. “Would you mind…?”

“Not at all!” She smiled. “I need to take good care of the coordi-unnies, since they take care of my honey and his group members. Ultimately, I take care of him.”

“Oh?” you managed.

“You’re new, I forgot,” she said, before lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Everyone’s been really good at keeping it hidden and private, which I thank them for. But inevitably, the media is probably going to get a hold of it sooner or later, and our managers have agreed that those working close to them might just as well know.”

“Know what?” you asked stiffly.

“I… am in a relationship with one of the members,” she said, and blushed.

You felt your heart grow cold. You had known it almost as soon as you had spotted her, yet it felt worse hearing it somehow. You managed a singular nod. “And who would that be?” you asked, trying to sound curious but not like you were trying to pry.

“Well...”

By then, you two had rounded a corner leading into a thin hallway with a pair of double metal doors - not unlike the ones at the women’s bathroom - at the end and on the western wall halfway across it. It said backstage above the doors at the end of the hall, but the fact that you had somehow reached your original destination wasn’t what caught your attention.

It was the train of people that was exiting those doors - in particular, the seven people you just recently had watched perform on stage that were walking in the front.

They had changed into more casual clothes, and wore jackets or coats with various caps and masks covering their mouth and nose. But even in an opaque, full-coverage bodysuit, you would discern Jeon Jungkook as long as he was able to speak. Frankly, even if he couldn’t, you would probably have a better chance than most of spotting him. You had known him for so long, you even recognized him in the way he walked and moved. He would need more than a white mouth mask and a black Puma cap to hide from you and your furious gaze.

Perhaps he felt it, too. For as soon as your gaze landed on him, he glanced toward you and Yi-Jae. His brown, familiar eyes widened in shock and you could see movement underneath his mask indicating that he had, in fact, opened his mouth in surprise. He had even stopped so abruptly the guy behind him had bumped into him, causing him to stumble slightly. Had the day been a different one, you might have felt joy at this display of bewilderment from one of the most infuriatingly perfect people in the world.

But you were pissed, and had every right to be.

“Jungkook!” Yi-Jae called in an overly sweet sing-song. “Why, were you boys all trying to leave without saying goodbye? I was just at the bathrooms with...” She looked at you. “Er, what was your name again?”

You had forgotten her presence and reflexively shifted your focus to her. You noticed a glimmer of something in her eyes, but it disappeared before you could ascertain its nature. Instead, you did your very best to stay exactly where you stood and continue your charade of being a shy intern. Perhaps Jungkook would do the same and pretend like he didn’t know you. He was clever, he caught up on things very quickly. He would play it smooth and remain calm, and you would, too.

To your amazement, however, and admittedly in a morbid mixture of satisfaction and fear, Jeon Jungkook reacted in a completely different manner.

Drilling his eyes into yours, he tore off his mouth mask and cursed loudly. Before anyone in the hallway, including you, could speak or react, he snarled his next few words in the same cold voice you had heard countless times before.

“What the hell are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

[otonymous]

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part II: Formal Introductions

Description: A stranger finds himself in a strange place Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: mild depictions of injuries, police, profanity Word Count: 1328 words (~7 mins of tension and the beginnings of love) Author’s Notes: First of all, I just wanted to give everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and/or commented on Chapter 1 of this fic a massive THANK YOU!  It has been an absolute joy to read through your reactions to the story so far, and I hope you will continue to join me on this wild (and eventually, sexy) ride! 😂 That being said, here’s Chapter 2!  Hope you all enjoy the read 💖

Tagging: the lovely @op-peccatori​​ 

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Three | Four

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

“Ahh—!”

A large hand clamps over your mouth to muffle the scream of shock when you wake to a pair of amber eyes staring intently into yours.  Then you remember that you had given up your bed to the man you now knew went by the name of Shaw.

At least that was what was on the ID card you found in his wallet.

“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?  Care to tell me where I am?”

Once assured you had sufficiently calmed, Shaw lowers his hand, turning his attention to your tiny apartment.  You straighten up from where you had fallen asleep, kneeling on the floor beside the bed with your head slumped on the pillow just next to his face.  Cheeks burning, you bite your lip to distract from the way your skin still tingled in the places he had touched.

“You’re at my place.  But don’t worry, I live alone.”

“I figured that much,” he says, trying to prop himself up on his elbows before his face contorts in pain.  You quickly rearrange the cushions and pillows behind him for support.  Shaw reaches towards his bare abdomen, hand trembling slightly as his fingers trace over the bandaged stitches holding it together.  “How did you…?”

“My next door neighbour did it.  He was a doctor back in his home country and owed me a favour.  I figured it would be a bad idea to take you to a hospital given…given everything that’s going on.  You can trust him, he’ll be discreet.”

Shaw heaves a sigh; even that seems to hurt him.  “How long have I been out?”

“Almost two days.”

“Shit.”  His brows pinch together.  “Do you have my phone?”

Nodding, you make your way to the kitchen counter where it sat along with the things that fell from his pockets when you undressed him as per your neighbour’s instructions: his wallet, a pack of cinnamon gum, a key and a guitar pick.

The phone lights up at your touch when you hand it over.  You pretend like you don’t notice the photo of the two young boys on the lock screen — one taller than the other, both wearing matching smiles and big, amber eyes.

You watch from the side, waiting with bated breath as Shaw scrolls through the messages with an impatient hand, the expression on his face growing darker with each swipe until he’s throwing off the sheets, pale lips trembling in pain as he tries to maneuver off the bed.  “I have to go.”

“But, wait…you’re not fully healed yet!  The doctor said it would likely be another day or two before you should start moving about—”

“I ain’t got that time.”  Feet finally on the ground, Shaw looks down, seeming to realize for the first time that he’s completely naked save for his boxers.  “Could you, um…pass my clothes?”

His cheeks grow pink.  You clear your throat.

Knock, knock.

Freezing in the midst of gathering his belongings, both your gazes shoot to the door when a muffled voice on the other side calls, “Loveland City Police!  Anyone home?”

Tossing Shaw the bundle in your arms, you push him back into bed, holding a finger to your lips for silence before you throw the covers over him.  Running sweaty palms over disheveled hair, you breathe deep, opening the door just enough for the chain to pull taut.

“Good morning, Miss.  I’m Detective Lai and this is Officer Wong from the Loveland City Police Department.  We’re currently conducting an investigation in the area.  Have you seen either of these men around here lately?”

Putting away his badge, Officer Wong holds up several large photographs, one a grainy picture from what appeared to be security footage, and a couple of mugshots.  You keep your expression flat as you pretend to study the one of Shaw’s face.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, I’m sorry.”  

Shaking your head for emphasis, you try to ignore the heat prickling beneath your collar when Detective Lai leans against the doorframe, gaze sharp as he sweeps the space behind you before finally relenting.  “Sorry to have disturbed you, Miss.  Please don’t hesitate to inform us if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

Quickly shutting the door, you slide to the tiled floor of the entryway, shaking so hard your teeth chatter.  Suddenly, a hand thrusts into your field of vision, making you jump: Shaw is standing before you, one arm outstretched to help you up as the other hovers over his bandaged abdomen.

“You should be resting.”  The words leave your lips in a whisper.

He doesn’t budge.  “Don’t worry about me, I’m stronger than I look.”

And when you finally place your hand in his, the smile that brightens that handsome face brings one to your own.

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

“You win.  Looks like I’m not going anywhere anytime soon with the cops crawling all over the place.”

Shaw’s voice drifts to the kitchen from where he lay on your bed.  Avoiding a cloud of steam when you lift the lid from a pot on the stove, the comforting smell of ginger and scallions wafts to tickle your nose as you portion out a single serving of congee, bearing it over to him on a tray.

“Here.  It’s not much, but it’s easy on the stomach.  Careful, it’s hot—!”

The congee splatters onto your sheets when Shaw drops the ceramic spoon, hissing as he sticks out a burnt tongue like an accident-prone child.  Biting back a chuckle at the discord between the man before you now and the one who had valiantly saved you during the robbery, you quickly reach for the glass of water on your bedside table, watching him gulp it down for dear life.

“I know it’s no Coke and Pepsi, but I hope it’ll do anyways.”

He laughs, and the sound tightens around your heart before he almost chokes on his water, coughing violently into the crook of his elbow and breathing deep to ride out the wave of pain radiating from his torso.

“Wow.  So she can tell jokes too in addition to saving lives.  Impressive, just like the lies you told the cops.  I have to say though, I’m surprised you noticed my drink of choice.  All those nights I came in, you barely even looked at me.  I was starting to wonder whether or not I was invisible.”

A smirk curls upon his lips; you wondered how they would taste.  Then, after a beat of silence, he says, “Thank you.  For everything.  I owe you my life.”

His amber eyes hold yours, completely devoid of sarcasm.  Counting to three before the intensity forces your gaze down to the fraying edges of your house slippers, the fierce beating of your heart makes you feel faint.  

“I’m just repaying a favour.  I haven’t thanked you yet for saving me that day you took out the robber with your skateboard.”

“Was nothin’.  Just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”  He shrugs, running a hand through his hair before extending it to you for the second time that day.  “Name’s Shaw, by the way.”

You stop breathing when your hands touch, hope your cheeks won’t betray you with their traitorous red when those long fingers tightened to hear you say yours in return.

“I know.  I’ve seen it on the tag on your uniform many times now.”  He repeats your name, soft and with intent, as if the tip of his tongue held something of infinite importance.  “It’s nice…suits you.  I like it.”

Raising a spoonful of congee, Shaw puckers his lips, blowing gently to cool it off first this time around.

“I like your congee too.”

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Thanks so much for reading!  Hope you all enjoyed it and please stay tuned for part 3 because there is only one bed! 😱😆

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Three | Four

Check out more of my work here! 📚 (Please do not repost/copy/alter my work.  Reblogs, on the other hand, are a-ok and much appreciated! 👍🏼💖)

[draco-kasai]

Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 1: Welcome to The Program! --> 

Chapter 2 pt. 2                                            Find Chapter 1 here!

Story Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

AKA; A very bitg crossover fanfic I started because I can’t help myself. I adore all of these characters and hope I had done them justice, though I did take many backstories and threw them into the meat grinder to remold them in a way that fits this universe. Also, I love 1-A but I also want to take them down a peg or two... I also just want to see them get their asses handed to them.  

A/N: Here it is! Chapter two! I hope anyone who decides to read it enjoys!

Alfred Freedom Jones practically bounced out of his bed in excitement. All the exchange student’s had arrived around 7PM last night in hopes for them to receive enough rest and get used to any sudden time change and jet lag. He and Valerie - a teacher of the school where they conduct part of the program - had wanted to be the ones to pick up and welcome all the kids. However, They were tasked with any last minute decorating to make the dorms presentable and welcoming and preparing dinner, that way the kids would have food in their bellies before they headed to their dorms and began unpacking and going to bed. 

The dorms of the school are located right behind the school itself. Although they were especially made 15 years ago since the program had begun, they are used for other purposes throughout the year to not go to waste. When students find themselves in situations where they need a place to stay, they are welcome to speak to a counselor to explain the situation, where they are given a room key and a ‘job’ as a tutor or teacher's assistant as well as have mandatory counseling to ‘pay off’ their stay. Sports clubs are also welcome to apply and stay in the program dorms during the summer for training camp, and many clubs even enjoy having sleep-overs for a few days as a bonding activity. 

This year has been one of the few where nobody has found the need to stay in the dorms throughout their school year. Alfred could almost cry for joy at that fact. Not only is there no student in the school facing such problems, but there won't be a random kid trying to sneak into all of their activities. It’s endearing when it happens the first few times, but the moment you have every one of those students trying to sneak into amusement parks and other field trips with the exchange students they’d become attached to, making you buy them a ticket on the spot to not just send them back, it becomes a little of a problem. Needless to say, he and Valerie have started carrying extra money with them on field trips.

Last year was a new one. Instead of them just buying a ticket on the spot, the two seniors that were with them had been snuck onto the bus and into six flags. They had somehow convinced the shy Brazilian boy to use their quirk to turn them into mice for an hour, so they could sneak in.

Everyone that enters a theme park nowadays are given quirk suppressant bracelets, that are custom-made for each theme park with designs, shapes and looks, that they must wear during their stay and return when they leave. The senior students were somehow able to get their hands on some when they transformed back, inside the theme park.

 Everyone was very smug when they explained to Alfred and Valerie how exactly two seniors not in the program and without tickets got into the theme park. Even the shy boy seemed proud that so much was accomplished with their quirk. As illegal as that is, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how they had just outsmarted the system. Although that didn’t stop, he or Valerie from lecturing them. His kids were very apologetic, and tried to make up for it by paying the teachers for the two students tickets by all pitching in.  He had avoided Aizawa’s questioning stare at the two students the whole day and allowed Valerie and the kids to keep him busy.

All things considered, Alfred and Valerie might not be the best choices as chaperones for the students, since they let them get away with shit when they know they’ve been outsmarted. Their superiors don’t have to know. Although the teachers praise them for being so innovative, the two teachers always make sure to drill it into their brain how important following the law is and how they shouldn't abuse their quirks in such ways. They also make sure to explain what kind of consequences such actions can cause, especially if they were pros. 

The reason they don’t kick them out of the program or anything, though, is because they are kids in training for a dangerous profession. They deserve the opportunity to have fun and act their age every now and again. Sure, they usually end up realizing how idiotic many of their ideas turn out to be, but it’s best they start learning now than mess up later and have their careers ruined for it. He and Valerie have kept in contact with kids who had graduated too! They have all become wonderful heroes, even if they had pulled quite a few pranks during their time in the program.

Adjusting the prescription glasses on his face, Alfred grabbed all the lanyards with cardholders attached to them and made sure each of the students program ID’s, room and key cards were there. He was going to hand them out last night after dinner, but all the kids seemed too exhausted, so he and Valerie had led them to their rooms to go unpack and rest. Once he was sure all of them were there, he grabbed his own lanyard. Wrapping it around his jeans' belt loop, he grabbed a folder and stepped out of his dorm. 

Looking at his watch, he realized it was 9:01 AM. They had told the kids to set their alarms, so they should be awake and getting ready by now. Going over the schedule he had memorized, he noted that they all had to be in the cafeteria at 9:45 for a late breakfast. After, they would head over to the large field separating the two dorm buildings for group activities. Since the students are all jet-lagged, they are free from classes till Friday, tomorrow. It may be a program for training, but they're students, can’t let them all fall behind.

 Making his way down the hallway, he began knocking on doors to the boys rooms on his floor. “Head down to the common area in ten minutes! Wear something comfortable for physical activity!” he called out as he made his way down all 12 doors. He could faintly hear Valerie doing the same downstairs to the females. 

As he walked towards the stairs, he spotted a few students already following behind him. He had even spotted a few of the girls walking behind Valerie, already attempting small talk. Once in the common area, he and Valerie smiled at the kids that followed them down.

“You kids are free to enjoy yourselves with anything you’d like while we wait for the others.” Valerie’s chipper voice practically sang as she spoke. “The remote to the TV is on the coffee table, the pool table racks are on the wall over there, the ball for the foosball table should be in one of the goals, and you are free to explore the field, just don’t go too far.” 

Both adults watched in amusement as the students stared around in awe. By the time the ten minutes had passed, all the students were scattered throughout the field, or common room. It hadn’t taken long for the two adults to gather them all up outside. One of the students had been quite sociable, going around speaking to everyone.

“Alright students ~!” Valerie sang as she closed and locked the sliding glass door behind her, “Since we still have time before we have to head over for breakfast, let’s all introduce ourselves properly to one another.” 

Alfred gave the kids a two finger salute as his partner took her place next to him, “Wassup guys! I’m Alfred Freedom Jones! Call me Mr. Jones! I’m a representative of the Hero collaboration program! I’ve been to both schools and have been doing this for 6 years! I was actually a student of this program when it was established! I hope you all enjoy yourselves while you are here!”

“Hello~! I’m Valerie Felicity Frizzle! Please, feel free to call me Miss. Frizzle or even Frizz, as many of my kids call me. I have been teaching in Marina high school for 19 years now. I was actually the teacher that had convinced my coworkers and the district to sign our school up for this lovely program! Truly, it has been a wonderful joy to meet and work with such wonderful children! I hope you all have a glorious experience and take home with you something new~!” The woman curtsied, showing off her dark purple dress that depicted outer space in beautiful patterns and colors.

“Now then! Your turn guys! Anyone want to go first, or shall we popcorn it? Maybe left to right? Choose someone and let them choose after? Whatcha guys up for?”

Both teachers watched in amusement as they watched the kids glance around at one another. They had seen some of them already starting to make some friends. Five of them seemed to get along well while playing foosball. Two had played 8-ball while conversing with two other students that watched with interest. Some of the others kept to themselves while watching TV or hanging around outside. Hopefully they are able to make some friends too. Just as Miss. Frizzle prepared to call on someone, a green arm raised up.

“Me! Me! I would love to go first!” The boy’s grin widened as everyone's gaze landed on him. Everything about him was a different shade of  green, from his skin to his hair and eyes. He wore a white tank top with an unbuttoned short-sleeved button up that has Disney dogs printed all over it, and loose, knee-length jean shorts. A boy at the other end of the crowd of students with green eyes and a serious face jolted in surprise and sank a little into his seat once he noticed him. 

“I like your enthusiasm, kid! Alright! Let’s hear it! Ah, don’t share any quirk information, though! We have a little activity planned later, and staying anonymous would be the best course of action.” Alfred grinned just as wide in response. 

“Okay!” He bounced over to stand between them. It was unnecessary, but it looks like it’s a thing now. Both teachers could see the discomfort that had settled on a small handful of students at the thought of standing in front of strangers to introduce themselves. “Hi! My name is Garfield Mark Logan! You guys can call me Gar! My name can be quite the mouthful. My hero name is Beast Boy and I came from San Francisco, aaand oh yeah! I’m Vegetarian! It’s nice to meet you all -! Oh my gosh, Damian! Hey dude!!” 

Said boy groaned as he facepalmed. A few people in the group held back their laughter as best they could as Garfield rushed over to him. Grabbing the sleeve of Damian’s jacket, he dragged him to the front of the crowd, “You practically ghosted us, dude. This is your punishment. Introduce yourself.” 

Damian almost stumbled when Garfield pushed him before retreating back to his spot next to a boy with green highlights in his hair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed the sleeve to his hoodie and straightened his black V-neck shirt. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Hello, I am Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I suppose if I am going off of Garfield’s introduction; my hero name is Red Bird, I came from Gotham in New Jersey, and I am also Vegetarian.” Green eyes scanned the crowd before pointing to a boy with light brown hair wearing a tie diy shirt. “You go next.”

“O - oh! Um, okay.” The boy stood to his feet from his place on the concrete, “Hi, uh, My name is Rudy Tabootie. I live pretty close actually, Burbank, to be exact. Uh, I’m not vegetarian… sorry? Uh, my Hero name is Snap. It’s really cool to meet you all.” and just like that, all the introductions went, and the group found themselves in the cafeteria for breakfast with their new lanyards. It wasn’t long till all the student’s exited the cafeteria and made their way to the field between the dorms. 

“Alright guys! We want to explain a few things with you before we start today’s first activity!” Mr. Jones clapped his hands together, excitedly. 

“I’m sure you have all noticed how the special guests, the main reason for this program, Yuuei isn’t here yet. Well, they will all be arriving tomorrow. However, you will not be introduced to them until Monday.” Miss. Frizzle smiled widely, the students before them began murmuring to one another in confusion.

“Um, Why?” A girl with pearl white skin asked. She wore light gray joggers, a sky blue tank top and had her cobalt blue hair tied up in pigtails. Jenny Walkman.

“The answer is simple! The students of Yuuei have had the whole school year to train and get to know one another, as well as their abilities. Needless to say, they all know how to work together.” Miss. Frizzle explained, “For this reason, our program is set up to allow all the exchange students to have time to get to know one another as well as each other's quirks and skills, so you may be able to work together when needed. This way, when we do battle training, everything would be on as equal footing as we can get.”

Mr. Jones nodded beside her, “Which is why all weekend, as they rest from their long flight, get accustomed to their surroundings and have fun sightseeing, we will be doing a bunch of group activities to get to know one another better. That way, when we begin battle training…” He trails off, hoping someone would finish for him. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“We’d at least be on equal footing against them.” A girl with long red hair that she had tied up in a ponytail responded. Wearing a green crop top, and dark blue cargo pants, she crossed her arms over her chest, a smile crossing her lips slightly at the plan. Kimberly Anne Possible

“Precisely!” Miss. Frizzle and Mr. Jones sang together.

“Today’s activity, drum roll please,” Miss. Frizzle happily made the sound effect for her coworker. Mr. Jones held up a dodgeball, where he got it, nobody knows, “Dodgeball!”

Chapter 2 pt. 2  

[livingdeadinsideyourhead]

Free Music in a Capitalist Society - Iggy Pop's Keynote Speech Transcript

Hi, I'm Iggy Pop. I've held a steady job at BBC 6 Music now for almost a year, which is a long time in my game. I always hated radio and the jerks who pushed that shit music into my tender mind, with rare exceptions. When I was a boy, I used to sit for hours suffering through the entire US radio top 40 waiting for that one song by The Beatles and the other one by The Kinks. Had there been anything like John Peel available in my Midwestern town I would have been thrilled. So it's an honor to be here. I understand that. I appreciate it.

Some months ago when the idea of this talk came up I thought it might be okay to talk about free music in a Capitalist society. So that's what I'm gonna try to talk about. A society in which the Capitalist system dominates all the others, and seeks their destruction when they get in its way. Since then, the shit has really hit the fan on the subject, thanks to U2 and Apple. I worked half of my life for free. I didn't really think about that one way or the other, until the masters of the record industry kept complaining that I wasn't making them any money. To tell you the truth, when it comes to art, money is an unimportant detail. It just happens to be a huge one unimportant detail. But, a good LP is a being, it's not a product. It has a life-force, a personality, and a history, just like you and me. It can be your friend. Try explaining that to a weasel.

As I learned when I hit 30 +, and realized I was penniless, and almost unable to get my music released, music had become an industrial art and it was the people who excelled at the industry who got to make the art. I had to sell most of my future rights to keep making records to keep going. And now, thanks to digital advances, we have a very large industry, which is laughably maybe almost entirely pirate so nobody can collect shit. Well, it was to be expected. Everybody made a lot of money reselling all of recorded musical history in CD form back in the 90s, but now the cat is out of the bag and the new electronic devices which estrange people from their morals also make it easier to steal music than to pay for it. So there's gonna be a correction.

When I started The Stooges we were organized as a group of Utopian communists. All the money was held communally and we lived together while we shared the pursuit of a radical ideal. We shared all song writing, publishing and royalty credits equally – didn’t matter who wrote it - because we'd seen it on the back of a Doors album and thought it was cool, at least I did. Yeah. I thought songwriting was about the glory, I didn't know you'd get paid for it. We practiced a total immersion to try to forge a new approach which would be something of our own. Something of lasting value. Something that was going to be revealed and created and was not yet known.

We are now in the age of the schemer and the plan is always big, big, big, but it's the nature of the technology created in the service of the various schemes that the pond, while wide, is very shallow. Nobody cares about anything too deeply expect money. Running out of it, getting it. I never sincerely wanted to be rich. There is a, in the US, we have this guy “Do you sincerely wanna be rich? You can do it!” I didn’t sincerely want to be rich. I never sincerely felt like making anyone else that way. That made me a kind of a wild card in the 60's and 70's. I got into the game because it felt good to play and it felt like being free. I'm still hearing today about how my early works with The Stooges were flops. But they're still in print and they sell 45 years later, they sell. Okay, it took 20 or 25 years for the first royalties to roll in. So sue me.

Some of us who couldn't get anywhere for years kept beating our heads against the same wall to no avail. No one did that better than my friends The Ramones. They kept putting out album after album, frustrated that they weren't getting the hit. They even tried Phil Spector and his handgun. After the first couple of records, which made a big impact, they couldn't sustain the quality, but I noticed that every album had at least one great song and I thought, wow if these guys would just stop and give it a rest, society would for sure catch up to them. And that's what's happening now, but they're not around to enjoy it. I used to run into Johnny at a little rehearsal joint in New York and he'd be in a big room all alone with a Marshall stack just going "dum, dum, dum, dum, dum" all my himself. I asked him why and he said if he didn't practice doing that exactly the way he did it live he'd lose it. He was devoted and obsessive, so were Joey and Deedee. I like that. Johnny asked me one day - Iggy don't you hate Offspring and the way they're so popular with that crap they play. That should be us, they stole it from us. I told him look, some guys are born and raised to be the captain of the football team and some guys are just gonna be James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and that's the way it is. Not everybody is meant to be big. Not everybody big is any good.

I only ever wanted the money because it was symbolic of love and the best thing I ever did was to make a lifetime commitment to continue playing music no matter what, which is what I resolved to do at the age of 18. If who you are is who you are that is really hard to steal, and it can lead you in all sorts of useful directions when the road ahead of you is blocked and it will get blocked. Now I'm older and I need all the dough I can get. So I too am concerned about losing those lovely royalties, now that they've finally arrived, in the maze of the Internet. But I'm also diversifying my income, because a stream will dry up. I'm not here to complain about that, I'm here to survive it.

When I was starting out as a full time musician I was walking down the street one bright afternoon in the seedier part of my Midwestern college town. I passed a dive bar and from it emerged a portly balding pallid middle aged musician in a white tux with a drink in one hand and a guitar in the other. He was blinking in the daylight. I had a strong intuition that this was a fate to be avoided. He seemed cut off from society and resigned to an oblivious obscurity. A bar fly. An accessory to booze. So how do you engage society as an artist and get them to pay you? Well, that's a matter of art. And endurance.

To start with, I cannot stress enough the importance of study. I was lucky to work in a discount record store in Ann Arbor Michigan as a stock boy where I was exposed to a little bit of every form of music imaginable on record at the time. I listened to it all whether I liked it or not. Be curious. And I played in my high school orchestra and I learned the joy of the warm organic instruments working together in the service of a classical piece. That sticks with you forever. If anyone out there can get a chance to put an instrument and some knowledge in some kids hand, you've done a great, great thing.

Comparative information is a key to freedom. I found other people who were smarter than me. To teach me. My first pro band was a blues band called The Prime Movers and the leader Michael Erlewine was a very bright hippy beatnik with a beautifully organized record collection in library form of The Blues. I'd never really heard the Blues. That part of our American heritage was kept off the major media. It was system up, people down. No Big Bill Broonzy on BBC for us. Boy I wish! No money in it. But everything I learned from Michael's beautiful library became the building blocks for anything good I've done since. Guys like this are priceless. If you find one, follow him, or her. Get the knowledge.

Once in secondary school in the 60's some class clowns dressed up the tallest guy in school in a trench coat, shades and a fedora and rushed him in to a school dance with great hubbub proclaiming "Del Shannon is here, Del Shannon is here." And until they got to the stage we all believed them, because nobody knew what Del Shannon looked like. He was just a voice on some great records. He had no social ID. By the early 60's that had really changed with the invasion of The Beatles and The Stones. This time TV was added to the mix and print media too. So you knew who they were, or so you thought anyway. I'm mentioning this because the best way to survive the death or change of an industry is to transcend its form. You're better off with an identity of your own or maybe a few of them. Something special.

It is my own personal view having lived through it that in America The Beatles replaced our assassinated president Kennedy, who represented our hopes for a certain kind of society. Didn’t get there. And The Stones replaced our assassinated folk music which our own leaders suppressed for cultural, racial, and financial reasons. It wasn't okay with everybody to be Kennedy or Muddy Waters, but those messages could be accepted if they came through white entertainers from the parent culture. That's why they’re still around.

Years later I had the impression that Apple, the corporation, had successfully co-opted the good feelings that the average American felt about the culture of the Beatles, by kind of stealing the name of their company so I bought a little stock. Good move. 1992. Woo! But look, everybody is subject to the rip off and has to change affiliations from time to time. Even Superman and Barbie were German before America tempted them to come over. Tough luck, Nietzche.

So who owns what anyway. Or as Bob Dylan said "The relationships of ownership." That’s gates of Eden. Nobody knows for long, especially these days. Apparently when BBC radio was founded, the record companies in England wouldn't allow the BBC to play their master recordings because they thought no one would buy them for their personal use if they could hear them free on the radio. So they were really confused about what they had. They didn’t get it. And how people feel about music. ‘Cause it’s a feel thing, and it resists logic. It’s not binary code. Later when CD's came in, the retail merchants in American all panicked because they were just too damn tiny and they thought that Americans want something that looks big, like a vinyl record. Well they had a point but their solution was a kind of Frankenstein called "The Long Box." It didn't fool anybody because half of it was empty. It had a little CD in the bottom. You’d open it up and it was empty. Now we have people in the Sahara using GPS to bury huge wads of Euros under sand dunes for safe keeping. But GPS was created for military spying from the high ground, not radical banking so any sophisticated system, along with the bounty it brings, is subject to primitive hijacking.

I wanna talk about a type of entrepreneur who functions as a kind of popular music patron of the arts. It’s good to know a patron. I call him El Padron because his relationship to the artist is essentially feudal, though benign. He or she (La Padrona) if you will, is someone, usually the product of successful, enlightened parents, who owns a record company, but has had benefit of a very good education, and can see a bigger picture than a petty business person. If they like an artists’ style and it suits them, they'll support you even if you’re not a big money spinner. I can tell you, some of these powerful guys get so bored that if you are fun in the office, you’ll go places. Their ancestors, the old time record crooks just made it their business to make great, great records, but also to rip off the artist 100%, copyright, publishing, royalty splits, agency fees, you name it. If anyone complained the line was "Pay you? We worship you!" God bless Bo Diddley.

By the time I came along, there was a new brand of Padron. People like this are still around and some can help you. One was named Jack Holzman. Jack had a beautiful label called Elektra Records, they put out Judy Collins, Tim Buckley, the Doors and Love. He'd started working in his family record store, like Brian Epstein. He dressed mod and he treated us very gently. He was a civilized man. He obviously loved the arts, but what he really wanted to do was build his business - and he did. He had his own concerns, and style, and you had to serve them, and of course when he sold out, as all indies do, you were stranded culturally in the hands of a cold clumsy conglomerate. But he put us in the right studios with the right producers and he tried to get us seen in the right venues and it really helped. This is a good example of the industry.

Another good guy I met is Sir Richard Branson. I ended up serving my full term at Virgin Records having been removed from every other label. And he created a superior culture there. People were happier and nicer than the weasels at some other places. The first time he tried to sign me it didn't work out, because I had my sights set on A&M, a company I thought would help make me respectable. After all they had Sting! Richard was secretly starting his own company at the time in the US and he phoned me in my tiny flat with no furniture. He said he'd give me a longer term deal with more dough than the other guys and he was very, very polite and soft spoken. But I had just smoked a joint that day and I couldn't make a decision. So I went with the other guys who soon got sick of me. Virgin picked me up again later on the rebound. And on the cheap. Damn. My own fault.

Another kind of indie legend who is slightly more contemporary is Long Gone John of the label Sympathy for the Record Industry. Good name. John is famous with some artists for his disinterest in paying royalties. He has a very interesting music themed folk art collection – its visible online - which includes my leather jacket. I wish he'd give it back. There are lots of indie people with a gift for organization who just kind of collect freaks and throw them up at the wall to see who sticks. You gotta watch 'em.

When you go a step down creatively from the Padrons who are actually entrepreneurs you get to the executives. You don't wanna know these guys. They usually came over from legal or accounting. They have protégés usually called A&R men to do their dirty work. You can become a favorite with them if your fame or image might reflect limelight on their career. They tend to have no personalities to speak of, which is their strength. Strangely they're never really thinking about the good of their parent company as much as old number one. Avoid them. If you’re an artist, they’ll make you sick or suicidal. The only good thing the conglomerate can do for you – and they’ve done it recently for me - is make you really, really ubiquitous. They do that well. But, when the company is your banker, then you are basically gonna be the Beverly Hill Billies. So it's best not to take their money. Especially when you’re young. These are very tough people, and they can hurt you.

So who are the good guys?! They asked me when they read this thing at BBC 6 Music. Well there are lots of them. If fact, today there are more than ever and they are just about all indies, but first I want to mention Peter Gabriel and WOMAD for everything they've done for what seems like forever to help the greatest musicians in the world, the so called world musicians to gain a foothold and make a living in the modern screwed up cash and carry world. Traditional music was never a for profit enterprise, all the best forms were developed as a kind of you’re job in the community. It was pretty good, it was “Yeah, I’m a musician, I’m gonna skip like doing the dishes or taking the trash out.” It's not surprising that all the greatest singers and players come from parts of the world where everybody is broke and the old ways are getting paved over. So it's crucial for everyone that these treasures not be lost. There are other people of means and intelligence who help others in this way like Philip Glass through Tibet House, David Burn with Luaka Bop, Damon Albarn through Honest John Records. Shout out to Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. Almost all the best music is coming out on indies today like XL Matador, Burger, Anti, Epitaph, Mute, Rough Trade, 4 A D, Sub Pop, etc. etc.

But now YouTube is trying to put the squeeze on these people because it's just easier for a power nerd to negotiate with a couple big labels who own the kind of music that people listen to when they're really not that into music, which of course is most people. So they've got the numbers. But the indies kind of have the guns. I've noticed that indies are showing strength at some of the established streaming services like Spotify and Rhapsody – people are choosing that music. And it's also great that some people are starting their own outlets, like Pledge Music, Band Camp or Drip. As the commercial trade swings more into general show biz the indies will be the only place to go for new talent, outside the Mickey Mouse Club, so I think they were right to band together and sign the Fair Digital Deals Declaration.

There are just so many ways to screw an artist that it's unbelievable. In the old vinyl days they would deduct 10% "breakage fees" for records supposedly broken in shipping, whether that happened or not, and now they have unattributed digital revenue, whatever the **** that means. It means money for some guy’s triple bypass. I actually think that what Thom Yorke has done with Bit Torrent is very good. I was gonna say here: “Sure the guy is a pirate at Bit Torrent” but I was warned legally, so I’ll say: “Sure the guy a Bit Torrent is a pirate’s friend” But all pirates want to go legit, just like I wanted to be respectable. It’s normal. After a while people feel like you’re a crook, it’s too hard to do business. So it’s good in this case that Thom Yorke is encouraging a positive change. The music is good. It’s being offered at a low price direct to people who care.

I want to try to define what I am talking about when I say free. For me in the arts or in the media, there are two kinds of free. One kind of free is when the process is something that people just feel for you. You feel a sense of possibility. You feel a lack of constraint. This leads to powerful, energetic, sometimes kind of loony situations.

Vice Media is an interesting case of this because they started as a free handout, using public funds, and they had open, free-wheeling minds. Originally a free handout was called Voice and these kids were like “Just get rid of the old! I don’t wanna be Vice, yeah!” Okay. By taking an immersive approach with no particular preconceptions to their reporting, they've become a huge success, also through corporate advertising, at attracting big, big money investment hundreds of millions of dollars now pumped into Fox Media and a couple of others bigger than that in the US. And they get it because they attract lots of little boy eyeballs. So they brought us Dennis Rodman in North Korea. And it’s kind of a travesty, but it’s kind of spunky. It's interesting that capital investment, for all its posturing, never really leads, it always follows. They follow the action. So if it's money you're after, be the yourself in a consistent way and you might get it. You’ll at least end up getting what you are worth and feel better. Just follow your nose.

The second kind of freedom to me that is important in the media is the idea of giving freely. When you feel or sense that someone that someone is giving you something not out of profit, but out of self-respect, Christian charity, whatever it is. That has a very powerful energy. The Guardian, in my understanding, was founded by an endowment by a successful man with a social conscience who wanted to help create a voice for what I would call the little guy. So they have a kind of moral mission or imperative. This has given them the latitude to try to be interesting, thoughtful, helpful. And they bring Edward Snowden to the world stage. Something that is not pleasant for a lot of people to hear about, but we need to know.

These two approaches couldn't be more different. To justify their new mega bucks Vice will have to expand and expand in capital terms. Presumably they'll have to titillate a dumb, but energetic audience. Of course all capitalist expansions are subject to the big bang – balloon, bust, poof, and you’re gone. As for the Guardian I would imagine that the task involves gaining the trust and support of a more discerning, less definable reader, without spending the principal. There is usually an antipathy between cultural poles, but these two actually have a lot in common in terms of the energy and nuisance to power that they are willing to generate. I wish red and blue could come together somehow.

Sometimes I'd rather read than listen to music. One of my favourite odd books is Bootleg: The Secret History of the Other Recording Industry by Clinton Heylin. I bought the book in the 90's because a couple of my bootlegs were mentioned. I loved my bootlegs. They did a lot for me. I never really thought about the dough much. I liked the titles, like Suck on This, Stow Away DOA or Metalic KO. The packaging was always way more creative and edgy than most of my official stuff. So I just liked being seen and heard, like anybody else. These bootleggers were creative. Here are two quotes from the dust jacket by veteran industry stalwarts on the subject of bootlegs in 1994.

"Bootleg is the thoroughly researched and highly entertaining tale of those colorful brigands, hapless amateurs, and true believers who have done wonders for my record collection. Rock and roll doesn't get more underground than this." – that was David Fricke, the music editor of Rolling Stone "I think that bootlegs keep the flame of the music alive by keeping it out of not only the industry's conception of the artist, but also the artist's conception of the artist." – that was Lenny Kaye from the Patti Smith group, musician, critic and my friend.

Wow!! Sounds heroic and vital!

I wonder what these guys feel about all of this now, because things have changed, haven't they? We are now talking about Megaupload, Kim Dot Com, big money, political power, and varying definitions of theft that are legally way over my head. But I know a con man when I see one. I want to include a rant from an early bootlegger in this discussion because it's so passionate and I just think it's funny.

This is Lou Cohan "If anybody thinks that if I have purchased every single Rolling Stones album in existence, and I have bought all the Rolling Stones albums that have been released in England, France, Japan, Italy, and Brazil that if I have an extra $100 in my pocket instead of buying a Rolling Stones bootleg I am going to buy a John Denver album or a Sinead O'Conner album, they are retarded."

So the guy is trying to say don't try to force me. And don't steal my choice. And the people who don't want the free U2 download are trying to say, don't try to force me. And they've got a point. Part of the process when you buy something from an artist. It’s a kind of anointing, you are giving people love. It’s your choice to give or withhold. You are giving a lot of yourself, besides the money. But in this particular case, without the convention, maybe some people felt like they were robbed of that chance and they have a point. It’s not the only point. These are not bad guys. But now, everybody's a bootlegger, but not as cute, and there are people out there just stealing the stuff and saying don't try to force me to pay. And that act of thieving will become a habit and that’s bad for everything. So we are exchanging the corporate rip off for the public one. Aided by power nerds. Kind of computer Putins. They just wanna get rich and powerful. And now the biggest bands are charging insane ticket prices or giving away music before it can flop, in an effort to stay huge. And there's something in this huge thing that kind of sucks.

Which brings us to Punk. The most punk thing I ever saw in my life was Malcolm McLaren's cardboard box full of dirty old winkle pinkers. It was the first thing I saw walking in the door of Let It Rock in 1972 which was his shop at Worlds End on the Kings Road. It was a huge ugly cardboard bin full of mismatched unpolished dried out winkle pickers without laces at some crazy price like maybe five pounds each. Another 200 yards up the street was Granny Takes a Trip, where they sold proper Rockstar clothes like scarves, velvet jackets, and snake skin platform boy boots. Malcolm's obviously worthless box of shit was like a fire bomb against the status quo because it was saying that these violent shoes have the right idea and they are worth more than your fashion, which serves a false value. This is right out of the French enlightenment.

So is the thieving that big a deal? Ethically, yes, and it destroys people because it's a bad road you take. But I don't think that's the biggest problem for the music biz. I think people are just a little bit bored, and more than a little bit broke. No money. Especially simple working people who have been totally left out, screwed and abandoned. If I had to depend on what I actually get from sales I’d be tending bars between sets. I mean honestly it’s become a patronage system. There’s a lot of corps involved and I don’t fault any of them but it’s not as much fun as playing at the Music Machine in Camden Town in 1977. There is a general atmosphere of resentment, pressure, kind of strange perpetual war, dripping on all the time. And I think that prosecuting some college kid because she shared a file is a lot like sending somebody to Australia 200 years ago for poaching his lordship's rabbit. That's how it must seem to poor people who just want to watch a crappy movie for free after they’ve been working themselves to death all day at Tesco or whatever, you know.

If I wanna make music, at this point in my life I'd rather do what I want, and do it for free, which I do, or cheap, if I can afford to. I can. And fund through alternative means, like a film budget, or a fashion website, both of which I've done. Those seem to be turning out better for me than the official rock n roll company albums I struggle through. Sorry. If I wanna make money, well how about selling car insurance? At least I'm honest. It's an ad and that's all it is. Every free media platform I've ever known has been a front for advertising or propaganda or both. And it always colors the content. In other words, you hear crap on the commercial radio. The licensing of music by films, corps, and TV has become a flood, because these people know they're not a hell of a lot of fun so they throw in some music that is. I'm all for that, because that's the way the door opened for me. I got heard on tv before radio would take a chance. But then I was ok. Good. And others too. I notice there are a lot of people, younger and younger, getting their exposure that way. But it's a personal choice. I think it’s an aesthetic one, not an ethical one.

Now with the Internet people can choose to hear stuff and investigate it in their own way. If they want to see me jump around the Manchester Apollo with a horse tail instead of trying to be a proper Rockstar, they can look. Good. Personally I don't worry too much about how much I get paid for any given thing, because I never expected much in the first place and the whole industry has become bloated in its expectations. Look, Howling Wolf would work for a sandwich. This whole thing started in Honky Tonk bars. It's more important to do something important or just make people feel something and then just trust in God. If you're an entertainer your God is the public. They'll take care of you somehow. I want them to hear my music any old which way. Period. There is an unseen hand that turns the pages of existence in ways no one can predict. But while you’re waiting for God to show up and try to find a good entertainment lawyer.

It's good to remember that this is a dream job, whether you're performing or working in broadcasting, or writing or the biz. So dream. Dream. Be generous, don’t be stingy. Please. I can't help but note that it always seems to be the pursuit of the money that coincides with the great art, but not its arrival. It's just kind of a death agent. It kills everything that fails to reflect its own image, so your home turns into money, your friends turn into money, and your music turns into money. No fun, binary code – zero one, zero one - no risk, no nothing. What you gotta do you gotta do, life's a hurly-burly, so I would say try hard to diversify your skills and interests. Stay away from drugs and talent judges. Get organized. Big or little, that helps a lot.

I'd like you to do better than I did. Keep your dreams out of the stinky business, or you'll go crazy, and the money won't help you. Be careful to maintain a spiritual EXIT. Don't live by this game because it's not worth dying for. Hang onto your hopes. You know what they are. They’re private. Because that's who you really are and if you can hang around long enough you should get paid. I hope it makes you happy. It's the ending that counts, and the best things in life really are free.

[desiraypark]

Drawing New Lines (Final)

Previous Entire Series

Characters: Kylo Ren x Tiffany Palmer (OC - Blk/F) Setting: Modern/Current/Alternate Universe (I went ahead and set it in NYC/NJ lol) Content: Brief smut (possibly dub-con?); *plays “Freedom” by Beyoncé

“Do you think your brother would be willing to help me?”

“Of course. Even if he wasn’t, I’d make him anyway.”

“They drive around my building. They drive around here. They park outside of my clients’ house. I can’t get away from them.”

“Say no more. I know what you need.”

They waited for two weeks. Tiffany didn’t want to leave her co-workers scrambling. Even when in danger, she felt the need to think of others. Additionally, the plan needed to be well thought out. She needed to buy airline tickets. She needed to call her mother. If Kylo were just your average Joe, she could have just abandoned everything. But no…

Kylo was the son of Michael Ren--entrepreneurs with important affiliations. He was the wife of Chelsea Ren, born Chelsea Palpatine--protégé of her father. The Rens and the Palpatines had the city--the state, even--on lock. They had eyes and shooters everywhere. She couldn’t “just leave”.

“What are you thinking about?” Kylo asked at the dinner table.

Dinner was a bit more comforting tonight--breakfast for dinner. Shrimp and grits, bacon, and biscuits from scratch. The meal warmed her. Relaxed her. It eased a longing.

Tiffany shook out her head out of its haze. “What?”

“I said, what are you thinking about?”

She shook her head again. “Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like a nothin’ face,” Kylo pushed.

She thought quickly. “Thinking about a pushy client.”

Kylo raised an eyebrow. “A pushy client?”

Tiffany nodded with confidence. “They wanted me to decorate their living room but they micromanaged me. Now their shit is ugly.”

Kylo chuckled. “As long as they don’t give you any bad reviews or anything.”

Tiffany agreed with a forced smile, and returned her attention to her plate.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you...”

Kylo stared at her. Suddenly, she became self-conscious. She didn’t look particularly different, or special. Did he suspect something? Was this a trick? He patted his lap.

“Come here,” he said.

Tiffany chuckled nervously. “For what?”

“For what?” he asked. “Just get over here.”

She cleared her throat and walked over to Kylo’s side of the table. He took her hand and gently pulled her down to his lap. His hand ran up and down her thigh, then he gave her ass a squeeze.

“Take your pants off.”

Tiffany’s heart skipped a beat. They’d done this before. “Kylo, this food is going to get cold.”

“And we can heat it back up.” He tugged at the band on her pants. “Take your pants off.”

Tiffany stood up and pulled down her slacks, revealing her luscious hips in boy shorts. Kylo bit his lip and ran his fingertips up her thighs. “Has it been long enough?”

Tiffany was being torn in three different directions. She could’ve lied--and said that her body needed more time (because he truly didn’t deserve to touch her). She could have told him the truth--yes, it had been long enough. He’d probably researched it, anyway. Or, she could have told him the truth because unfortunately, she needed him inside of her one more time. 

She pulled down her underwear and Kylo ran his finger between her outer lips--feeling her warmth and gathering her wetness.

“Did she miss me?” he asked. He shoved a finger inside and met Tiffany’s eyes. Her jaw dropped. She could have slapped herself in the face. Kylo chuckled to himself, slid his chair back, then tapped the dining table.

Tiffany climbed onto the table, and Kylo slid his chair close. He pried her thighs apart, exposing her to him--her beautiful flower blossomed and ready for the taking. He leaned in and dragged his pointed tongue against her clit. Her eyes closed. She grabbed his hair and threw her head back.

____________________

“I texted him,” Tiffany said, walking through the parking garage with Adelle. She looked around and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I asked if he was planning on coming over.”

Adelle unlocked the doors to her Mercedes and they both climbed into the car.

“What did he say?”

“He said he was busy. Then asked why.”

Adelle started her car. “And what did you say?”

“I haven’t texted back yet.”

Adelle slowly backed out of her space. “Tell him where you’re going. If you don’t say anything he’s going to get suspicious. Just say a restaurant. Only tell him the name if he asks.”

“And if I lie, Black Car is going to tell him differently,” Tiffany thought out loud.

Tiffany texted Kylo, telling him that she would be dining with her boss. Of course, he asked where. And she told him: The Red House.

The black car was behind them the whole time--one, two, sometimes three cars away. But Adelle drove like a secret agent--unfathomed and in charge. Miraculously, she found a space not far from the restaurant. She grabbed her phone, ID, and credit card, and stuffed the items in her jacket pocket. Tiffany did practically the same--stuffing her wallet into her suit jacket. The ladies placed their handbags and laptops in the trunk of Adelle’s car, then walked just several yards to the restaurant’s door.

Chills went down Tiffany’s spine as they walked into The Red House. The air was palpable. Old images flashed in her mind--Kylo at the bar with another woman, many Decembers ago. She looked out at the dim hallway in the back, remembering when she came out of the restroom and he was standing there. The host sat them near the kitchen at a table with four seats.

“Your server will be right with you,” he said.

“Thank you. Could you tell Mr. Mason that Adelle is here?”

“Uh, yes ma’am,” the host said, nodding.

Tiffany feigned a search over the menu. Then, Antoine Mason came from the back, bent down, and hugged his twin sister.

“Hey, Sis,” he said.

“Hey, Honey.”

He looked at Tiffany. “How are you this evening?”

Tiffany shivered. “Excited. Scared.”

“No need to be scared,” he said. He looked at Adelle. “John?”

“All set,” Adelle said. Antoine returned his attention to Tiffany and smiled. “Your server will come soon. I told her all she needed to know.”

Tiffany nodded and Antoine smiled, then walked away. Then, a young lady walked to them. “Good evening, Ladies,” she said, pulling out her pad. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

No alcohol. Adelle got a raspberry lemonade, Tiffany iced tea. Their minds needed to be clear. Rolls and salads came. House salads. Nothing that Antoine or the cook would be angry to see wasted. The server “took their orders”. Then, Adelle got up to grab something from her car. Moments later, she returned with a random bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Don’t panic,” Adelle said. “Where they’re parked, they can see right inside. They can see the kitchen.”

“Fuck,” Tiffany whispered. Her heart rate increased and she rested her elbow on the table.

“Don’t panic, don’t panic,” Adelle said.

“You telling me not to panic is making me panic,” Tiffany mumbled.

Tiffany and Adelle waited for their server to come back. She asked if they were okay, and needed refills. Adelle said “yes”, but said she would need to text her brother. Only two minutes passed, and Antoine instructed them to continue with their plan...

Tiffany got up to use the restroom. She stood in the bathroom, pacing the floor. Her breaths bounced off the linoleum and met her ears. Taunting her. She paced a couple of more minutes--as planned--then slowly opened the bathroom door. Standing by the kitchen door was Antoine, fiddling with an old rolling cart, covered in white linen.

“Stay right there,” he said, voice booming down the short hallway.

Tiffany kept her back to the door. Antoine shook his head and pushed the cart down the hallway and stopped in front of Tiffany.

“Climb in,” he said.

Tiffany shook her head and laughed. 

Antoine lifted the linen that covered the cart and Tiffany climbed in. She sat in a tight ball as the rickety wheels rolled over the restaurant’s tile floor--the very tile that sat under her feet when Kylo invited her to his hotel room. The light outside of the linen brightened, and the cloth was lifted. Antoine held out his hand and helped Tiffany out of the cart. Unknowing cooks looked at the scene with knitted eyebrows, as Antoine led her out the back door and toward a blue car in the alley.

Antoine opened the back door and she climbed in his back seat, laid on the floor, and burst into tears.

“You take care, Sweetheart,” Antoine said. He closed the back door.

“Oh, don’t you start that now!” John joked. “Tears of joy?”

“Yes,” Tiffany whimpered.

There was a short silence, then John began to speak.

“Hey baby,” he said. “She’s in here...you in your car?...Alright. Stay on the phone with me.”

Tiffany wiped her tears.

“North Carolina, huh? My family’s from South Carolina…” John said. He started his engine.

“What?” Adelle said through the speakerphone.

“Talking to Tiffany.”

“Oh,” Adelle responded. She chuckled. “I don’t think this man is even paying attention to me...”

____________________

Two Days Later

Kylo’s fingers and ears were stuck to two phones--his personal phone and his business phone. He had his business phone to his ear, and his eyes trained on his personal phone. Suddenly, it lit up.

Cardo: Nothing, still. No sign, no trace.

Kylo balled his fist, imagining Cardo was in front of him so he could beat the shit out of him again.

“Yeah, do what the fuck you have to do,” Kylo said, rushing off his business phone. “Alright.”

Chelsea strolled around the corner, just in time to see Kylo hang up his flip phone and quickly look down at his desk.

Kylo rolled his eyes at the sight of Chelsea and her smirk, then took a swig of his drink. His smartphone went dim.

“What?” he asked.

Chelsea walked behind him and ran her fingers down his chest. She planted kisses on his cheek.

“Your boyfriend out of town?” His phone lit up.

“No, I’m actually going to see him tomorrow,” she said. 

Cardo: So sorry Boss. Please forgive me.

Kylo grunted and took a sip of his drink. Chelsea kissed him on the neck, then nibbled on his ear.

“I know that you’ll probably be able to find her…” she mumbled into his canal. “But if you ever put your hands on her, or any other woman again…”

Kylo slowly put his drink down, as Chelsea sucked at his neck again.

“I will beat the shit out of myself…” Kiss. “Tell my father you did it…” Kiss. “…and let him chop you into tiny pieces and fry you up for breakfast.”

Chelsea licked a stripe up his neck and to his cheek. Then, planted another kiss. She walked out of the study and froze in the hallway. She put her hands on her hips and smiled.

“Come say goodnight to your father, my loves!” she said. ____________________ December 2020 (A Few Days Before Christmas)

Christmas in Charlotte was a world different from Christmas in New York. There was no need for central heat in Gina Palmer’s house in December. The air was warm and balmy. Tiffany sat on her full-sized bed, staring at the flip phone on her dresser. Finally, she stood up, walked to the dresser, and opened the phone. She called the Cannon Street Design Firm, and pressed 111--her desired party’s extension.

“Cannon Street Design Firm, this is Adelle Mason-Brooks speaking.”

“Hi, Adelle...it’s Tiffany...”

There was a brief pause. “Tiffany?” 

“Yes...”

“How are you, Sweetie?” Adelle asked, joy in her voice.

“I’m fine. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you. I’m so glad you’ve called me.”

“How’s everything?”

“Everything is everything,” Adelle said. She cleared her throat. “Mrs. Ren was here a few days ago.”

Tiffany swallowed. 

“She just wanted to know if you were alright. I told the chick that I wouldn’t know.”

Tiffany chuckled. “Thanks.”

“A strange dynamic those two have, huh?”

“The whole thing was strange...” Tiffany responded with a grunt.

“Well. Yeah. That’s true. She gave me a message to pass on to you...”

Tiffany could hear Adelle shuffling around on her desk.

“She put it in a Christmas card and everything. Hold on...”

There was a long pause--paper rustling--and Adele cleared her throat. “The card just says Happy Holidays, blah blah. But she wrote, “I don’t know how you did it, but I’m happy you did it. You are my hero.” Signed, “CR”.”

Tiffany drew in a deep breath, smiled, and shook her head. “That was nice.”

“Yeah, it was...want me to hold on to it?”

Tiffany took another deep breath. “No. No need to.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at Tiffany’s door. Then, it opened. Gina Palmer peeped in and smile--the movement of her cheeks shifting the old scar that ran down her cheek. 

“I made shrimp and grits,” Gina whispered. 

Tiffany smiled and nodded at her mother. Gina smiled harder and slipped back out of the room.

“--but I’m so glad you called me. Should I save this number?” Adelle asked.

“Yes, I’d like for you to,” Tiffany replied.

“Alright.”

“Thank you for everything Adelle. I owe your whole family, pretty much.”

“You don’t owe us a thing, Honey. Not a thing.” Tiffany smiled to herself. “Merry Christmas, Adelle.”

“Merry Christmas, Tiffany.”

Tiffany closed her phone and walked out of her bedroom. She walked down the dim hallway--the wall’s wood paneling straight out of the 70s, and joined her mother in the kitchen for shrimp and grits, bacon, and homemade biscuits. ____________________

TAG LIST @aloneandsleepless​ @a-true-janian-reply​ @iamasithprincess

____________________

Support my grilled salmon addiction (Ko-Fi)

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, magnus-the-maqnificent!

For @magnus-the-maqnificent. Greetings!I hope your holiday season has been good.You honestly challenged me a bit with your request because you made me think of soulmates in a different light.Thank you for the new perspective and challenge.Enjoy.

Read On AO3

*****

Strawberry Expectations

Chapter 1

“Please wait to the side, and your name will be called out shortly,” Alec directed as he handed the professor her receipt back. “It should only take five minutes.”

“No worries, I’m just glad I made it before the evening rush.” she politely excused herself and went to the side to play on her phone while she waited.

Alec turned and pressed the button so the order would pass over to Bat, who was working at the coffee machines today. He turned back and started to wipe down the counter. The customer had been right. In a few minutes, the 5 pm classes would release, and college students would flood the small college coffee shop. Alec knew he only had a short amount of time before that happened.

“Excuse me, this isn’t peppermint, right?”

A melodic voice pulled Alec from his thoughts, only for them to steal his breath. He knew those words. Not the voice attached them, but he knew those words, and had memorized them since the first time they had appeared on his shoulder blade. He recalled standing with his back to the bathroom mirror as his fingers swept over the intricate text.

When Alec got the job at the small cafe, he knew that there would be a few times where he would hear that line and not be his soulmate. Alec was well aware of how common his soul mark’s words were when working during the holiday season. Still, this was the first time someone had spoken the words.

Alec looked up, finally to see who had said his words, and immediately felt his stomach start to flutter. The man in front of him looked to be around his age, and by the backpack slung over his back, he was a college student just like him. Alec tried not to make it evident while checking out the other student, but the way the other’s chocolate eyes followed his own assured Alec that the student had caught him. Alec quickly looked instead to where he was pointing and was glad to see that it was some of their sugar cookies with strawberries in them; the specks of red in the soft colored cookie often gave the impression of a candy cane flavor.

“N-No strawberry, is that okay?” Alec cursed at himself when he stuttered his reply.  Alec tried to reason with himself that there was still a high chance that the student wasn’t even his soulmate. But when Alec looked up to see them again, the other man’s wide eyes stared back at him.

“Are you allergic to strawberries?” the man asked in a hurry.

“No, they are my favorite fruit,” Alec found himself answering for some reason. He didn’t understand what was compelling him to this man. Alec didn’t know if it was the soul mark or himself trying to fool him into thinking he was lucky enough to find his soulmate on the first try. Alec shook himself back into reality and tried to mask his nerves. “Would you like one of the cookies with a drink?”

“I’m Magnus,” the man, Magnus, replied instead, extending his hand out for Alec to shake. “You’re Alec, right?”

Alec wondered for a second how Magnus knew his name and remembered he was at work and had a badge with his name on it. He took the offered hand and instantly understood why Magnus had acted so oddly and asked about strawberries. Alec felt a slight burn on his shoulder blade where his soul mark was and understood.

“Look,” Magnus called out to Alec as he rolled up his sleeve and allowed him to stare at the shining text.

‘N-No strawberry, is that okay?’

Alec saw his response to Magnus, neatly displayed on the other’s arm. It still held a soft golden glow to it,  from just having established the bond.

“Dammit, Alec, only you could get yourself out of rush hour with a bond!” Bat cried out, annoyed behind him. “Go on, then. I’ll call Clary in to cover for you.”

Alec was still trying to process what was happening and why Bat was yelling at him about the Bond Protection Act. His mind was buzzing from the events. Then he felt a small squeeze on his hand, and he started to focus back on Magnus.

Magnus had his soul mark.

Magnus’ words were on his shoulder.

Magnus looked so beautiful with his slightly tinted blue hair styled perfectly, so that only a few strands fell over his eyes.

Then the panic started to return. Alec had no clue what came next. Everyone talked about the moment they met their soulmate, but no one ever explained the steps between finding them and loving them.

They surely couldn’t expect you to love a total stranger you just met. Right?

Alec’s eyes kept shifting between Magnus and the mark still displayed on his soulmate’s arm. The golden glow had subsided entirely now, and all that was left behind was the neat black text clinging to Magnus’ arm. The words brought an indescribable warmth over Alec, but with it came the whispers of uncertainty on what was to come. What ifs flooded Alec’s mind, robbing him of the small joy from the bonding.

Alec shifted his eyes away from the other and stood frozen behind the counter. His mind riffled through every romcom Izzy forced him to consume, and came back empty. None of the movies had ever talked about what was supposed to happen now.

Chapter 2

“Darling, are you okay?” Magnus asked as he looked at Alec, concerned. He hoped that the cafe employee was okay. He had come here looking for a pick me up after one of his professor’s monotone lectures and instead found his soulmate. “Alec?”

“Give him a moment,” the other attendant told him. “He’s free to go when you get him to move. Tell him not to worry about it; I will sign the witness papers if it comes to it.”

Since the initiation of a soul bond could sometimes disorient the pair, the government had agreed with doctors and set a protection law that allowed freshly initiated soul bonds a leave for two days to balance themselves without repercussions. A witness was only necessary if someone thought a pair was faking a bond initiation to get free time off. It was rare, but some people were that deplorable.  

“You said my words,” Alec finally responded to him. “That was the first time anyone said them all in the correct order .”

Magnus understood the meaning of that. He, too, had heard many variances of the words on his arm. Magnus had allowed himself to cling to them only for him to end up crushed when the person would utter ‘I don’t like them’ instead of ‘is that okay?’, or the one time Magnus had tightly held on only for the last word to be wrong. Magnus knew that a soulmate wasn’t something he needed in his life. On his own, Magnus was strong enough to survive if he ever happened to be one of the 33% of the population that never found their soulmate. Still, Magnus couldn’t help how his heart skipped a beat at Alec’s wide eyes and adorable expression when Alec looked at Magnus’ soul mark.

The silent moment between them seemed to span, and as it did, Magnus watched as Alec’s expression turned to panic. He watched as the chime from the opening door startled Alec into the present. Magnus could hear the chattering of groups of customers starting to flood the cafe. He saw the way Alec began to rub the back of his neck and realized that this wasn’t the place they should have their conversation. Magnus lived on campus, but he didn’t want Alec to feel trapped in a room with him.

Magnus started to hear the students and professors behind him lining up. His mind was racing, trying to come up with a neutral private area. It wasn’t till he heard someone behind him complain about forgetting their student ID, because of that they couldn’t access the library, that Magnus found the right location.

“I think we should go somewhere else,” he offered, motioning to the people slowly starting to flood the small college cafe. “We can rent a room from the library to talk privately.”

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Alec mumbled to him in response.

Magnus watched as Alec grabbed some things from behind the counter and shoved his hat and name tag in a backpack. He followed Alec’s lead, and after an apologetic wave at Bat, they both headed out to the filled sidewalks.

The silence continued between them as they both made their journey through the campus. Magnus stole glances at the other, observing how Alec was fidgeting with his backpack as they reached the library. He started to question if Alec was instead one of the rare few who never intended to meet their soulmate, and wondered if he had forced Alec to follow him out of pity. Magnus thought of how maybe his soulmate was only following him so that Alec could reject him in private.

He opened the grand library entrance for Alec, while offering him a small smile.

“Thank you,” Alec softly responded as he entered the building.

Magnus followed after him and felt his heart start to summersault again from Alec’s shy smile. Even if Alec didn’t want to explore the bond romantically, Magnus silently hoped Alec would at least entertain the idea of a friendship. Magnus wouldn’t mind the idea of being friends; if he was honest, he preferred to know Alec before starting a relationship, but he would honor and accept whatever Alec offered him. He had witnessed what happened when a soulmate bond was forced and twisted into love. Magnus refused to put Alec through that.

“Study room for two, please,” Magnus said as he handed the library assistant his student ID. “They need yours as well.”

He watched as Alec jumped once again and shuffled quickly to retrieve his card from his back pocket.

“Sorry. Here you go,” Alec apologized, as he handed his card over to the clerk.

“No worries, at least you both have your IDs.” She took their cards and started to input their data. “I’ve had people come in here thinking we would rent them books or rooms with only their ID number and not the ID itself. Alright, you two have one hour in room 25; it’s the last one on the left down the hall. If you need it for longer, only one of you has to come back to renew it for another hour. Both of you can keep doing so, unless we have a queue.”

“Thank you,” they both chorused, causing them to stare at each other for a second.

“Shall we?” Magnus took the red card the clerk gave them to put outside the door. He watched as Alec nodded and made his way to the room. Magnus could feel his stress rising. He had always been confident when he did things, but this was uncharted territory, and he was afraid of sinking.  

Chapter 3

They both entered the room, shutting the door behind them after placing the red card on the small outside sleeve.

Alec looked around the room and took in the window wall framing the door they entered. He assumed it was glass, so no students got any creative ideas while using the spaces. Alec watched his soulmate close the door and enter the room.

Magnus was trying his best to calm himself. The walk from the cafe to the library hadn’t been as soothing as he thought it would be. Magnus placed his backpack on the wooden table and pulled one of the four chairs out for himself. He drew the bag close to himself and looked up at Alec.

“I don’t know how this normally goes, if I’m honest,” Magnus confessed, as he watched Alec take his seat across from him. “Better introductions might help us get started. I’m Magnus Bane. I’m a sophomore and currently live on campus. I’m happy you aren’t allergic to strawberries.”

“I’m Alec Lightwood,” Alec responded, relieved that Magnus had taken the lead in the conversation. He wasn’t precisely uncomfortable with the situation; he just didn’t know what to do, “I’m a freshman but a sophomore in credits. I live off-campus with my twin sister and our brother. I still don’t understand why you keep saying the stuff about a strawberry allergy.”

“Well, darling,” Magnus replied, watching the way Alec slightly blushed at the endearment, “When I first got my soul mark, my dearest friends thought it was funny to put in my head all of the scenarios in which I could meet you. Ragnor and Raphael used to be fond of teasing me about eating strawberries, telling me to enjoy them while I could, in case your line meant you were allergic to them.”  

Alec found himself laughing at Magnus’ statement. Jace had attempted the same with him, but he had always thought it just meant his soulmate didn’t enjoy the taste of peppermint.

“Just to be clear, I do like strawberries,” Alec replied while trying to suppress his laughter. “I take it you don’t like peppermint, though, or are you allergic?”

“I like some peppermint stuff, but I’m not keen on it being in my baked goods,” Magnus explained. He found himself staring at Alec and the way his eyes would crease a bit when he laughed. Magnus had been afraid that his soulmate would proceed to reject him as soon as the door shut. Instead, Alec was indulging him and enjoying himself. The conversation seemed easy; sure, it was awkward, but it didn’t feel forced.

“Wait! Lightwood related to Isabelle Lightwood?” Magnus asked as he recalled one of the girls in his Design Study class. Now that Magnus had a better look at Alec, he could see the girl and Alec’s resemblance.

“That’s my younger twin sister,” Alec proudly confirmed. “Are you in the fashion design program as well?”

“Yes, I had to do the introduction course this semester since I didn’t know they only offered it during the Fall and not Spring last year,” Magnus explained. He started to feel more at ease as the conversation flew by. The thought of Alec rejecting him was still present in Magnus’ mind, but it was like a faraway echo now. “What are you studying?”

“I am going for a bachelors in education,” Alec answered. He stopped fidgeting with his backpack and risked another look at his soulmate. Alec still couldn’t believe this was who fate had decided was destined for him. He noticed how it wasn’t just his hair that Magnus styled to perfection. Alec noticed his soulmate’s nails as he drummed them on the table. Magnus had painted them with a deep blue that matched the intricate designs on Magnus’ white shirt. “So you want to be a fashion designer?”

“That’s the dream,” Magnus answered. “So you have two siblings and want to be a teacher?”

“Three, I am the oldest,” Alec smiled at the turn the questions were taking. Talking about his family or degree were things he was capable of doing. “I want to be a child counselor. I am double majoring in education and psychology.”

“Wow!” Magnus exclaimed, surprised by Alec’s ambition. He was already buried in course work and intimidated by his degree plan. Magnus couldn’t imagine adding another degree to it as well.

“It can be a bit much at times, but it will be worth it,” Alec smiled as he explained. “Honestly, I am surprised I was able to meet my soulmate. Izzy and Jace kept teasing me that with the amount of time I spend in the library or study center, my soulmate had to be either a librarian or someone at the center itself.”

“Guess we have my economics professor to thank for that,” Magnus teased. “If he hadn’t driven me so close to slumber, I wouldn’t have gone to your work and met you.”

“Mr. Starkweather?” Alec asked. He attended an economics course, too, so Alec wondered if Magnus had the same teacher but a later class.

“You have him too?”

“Sadly,” Alec responded with a grimace. “I don’t understand why he hands out so many reading assignments. He is the only professor that uses the textbook. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad we are at least getting to use the ninety dollar thing.”        

“Ninety? Mine was over a hundred! Where did you get yours?” Magnus asked. The book had initially been two hundred dollars, and he had found it online for almost half that price. Magnus had searched for a full week, convinced he had the cheapest option.

“I got lucky one of Izzy’s friends was a sophomore and took the class last year,” Alec explained triumphantly. “She needed the money for some new books, and the school store was only going to give her fifty for it.”  

“Lucky!” Magnus agreed. He enjoyed this side of Alec and wouldn’t mind getting to explore more of it. “Is your cafe work part of work-study?”

“Yeah, I was hoping the library would be hiring, but you can’t be picky with work-study since they take it if you don’t use it in time,” Alec groaned. When the semester started, he had hoped that he could get a position as a library assistant or even a book sorter but no luck. “Serving coffee isn’t so bad. The worst part is getting yelled at cause you put one too many ls or ms in someone’s name on the cup.”

“People yell at you for that?”

“Not often but once or twice we’ve served customers like that. Bat just smiles at them while they yell and have their tantrum. It scares and frustrates them that he won’t respond,” Alec smiled as he recalled the man who just gave up and left with his drink. He heard as Magnus chuckled at his story and decided that he really wanted to listen to that sound again. Magnus’ laughter, even as a chuckle, was beautiful. The fear and uncertainty of having met his soulmate had subsided and in its place was excitement. Alec wanted to get to know this man more. “Do you have work-study?”

“Yes, but I’m the lucky one this time; I work at the dorms as the person who signs in people who want to visit the residents,” Magnus smiled and started to play with his rings. “I do get my share of problematic people, though.”

“Let me guess they forget their student ID?”

“They forget their student ID,” Magnus confirmed with another chuckle. “It’s even worse because we can also accept their driver’s license or state ID but guess what? They usually don’t have those either! I swear what person goes to campus and doesn’t think to bring some form of identification.”  

Alec smiled as he watched Magnus rant about his work. He started to think that maybe he could see a future with Magnus. Not immediately a romantic one, but Alec wanted to see where his soulmate could lead him.

“I think our hour is about to run out,” Magnus stated, looking at his phone. “We can ask for another hour if you want?”

“I can’t.” Alec regretfully answered. He knew it was a mistake when he saw the way Magnus’ eyes lost some of their previous shine. Alec truly wanted to spend more time with Magnus. But he was supposed to pick up Jace from some art exhibit he attended because of a girl.

“I understand,” Magnus smiled at him and tried his best to hide his disappointment. Magnus thought he could talk Alec into giving them a chance, but perhaps he had spoken too much. Magnus stopped himself before his mind dove too deep into those thoughts. If his soulmate didn’t want him as he was, Magnus wouldn’t betray himself. He refused to change himself for anyone else but his own whims. “Hope we can hang out again soon.”

Alec watched frozen as Magnus started to move away from the table and straighten himself up. He realized  Magnus hadn’t understood what he meant and that had been partially his fault. Alec knew he didn’t always pick the best words to express himself. Magnus was already pushing his chair back in, when Alec heard the tender statement.

‘We are Lightwoods, big brother. We break noses and accept the consequences.’

He didn’t know if his little sister’s words applied right now, but he refused to let Magnus walk out of there, believing Alec had no intention of seeing him again. Maybe there was a chance that he was misreading this, and Magnus was relieved that Aled didn’t ask him to stay longer, but Alec was willing to accept the outcome if that was the case.

“I was wondering if you would like to come out to a small show with my siblings and some friends tomorrow,” Alec took the chance and reached out to grab Magnus’ sleeve as he spoke. Alec had pulled his backpack off the table in a quick motion and spilled some of his things. None of that mattered to him right now, though. His focus was entirely on Magnus right now.

“I don’t know what the proper etiquette for soulmates is, but I would like to see you again.”

Magnus stopped, turning to look at Alec in shock. He had been so sure that the other had just politely rejected him. Magnus had never been so glad to be proven wrong about something.

“I don’t think there is a proper etiquette,” Magnus answered as he turned to face Alec properly. He could see the sincerity in Alec’s eyes and knew he wasn’t doing this out of pity for his soulmate. “I think we should just do what feels right for both of us. I want to see you again as well, darling.”

Magnus watched as the light blush returned to his soulmate’s face and relished in the fact that he had caused it. He was still in uncharted territory, but it seemed less scary with Alec beside him.

“I’m not asking for a date, I think that’s too soon for us, but I would like the chance to get to know you,” Magnus continued with his newfound bravery, “maybe we could start as friends and see where that takes us?”  

“Yes,” Alec immediately responded and decided that honesty was his best bet now. “I know everyone says that once you meet your soulmate, your whole life and relationship will just fall into place, like some sort of fairy tale ending. While that sounds nice, I want to know the person better before I jump into anything.”

“So we'll go slow, get to know each other first, and go from there,” Magnus reiterated.  

“My sister’s boyfriend has a show coming up,” Alec stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “He isn’t great, but the food at the bar he is playing at is good. I-I don’t mean like a date, but maybe we could talk more there?”

“I’m sure if your sister is dating him, he can’t be that bad of a musician,” Magnus teased. “If you tell me the day, I can check, since I do have some evening classes.”

“It’s tomorrow,” Alec provided and remembered Magnus lived on campus so probably didn’t have a car. “I could pick you up? You could invite some of your friends as well.”

“Friday is one of my easy days. I should be able to make it,” Magnus eagerly agreed and noticed a paper that had fallen from Alec’s backpack.  He kneeled and picked up the sheet, seeing something interesting in passing it. Magnus stood back up, sporting a smirk, and handed the paper back to Alec. “Here you go, Alexander .”

Alec’s hand stopped mid-reach when he heard his full name. He had never liked how his name sounded when others called him, but Magnus made it sound like a gentle call home, rather than the scolding he expected. Alec picked up his bag and took the sheet, still stuck on the way his name sounded coming from Magnus’s lips.

“As much as I would love to associate seeing you with coffee, I think it is better if we exchanged numbers,” Magnus suggested as he watched Alec stuff everything back into his backpack.  Magnus noticed how Alec’s ears had turned red from him saying his full name. Magnus didn’t know still where things were going with Alec, but he knew his soulmate interested him. Not just as someone he could see himself dating - though that was a desirable option - but as someone who Magnus wanted to keep in his life.

“Here,” Alec held up a small piece of paper to Magnus. “I usually keep my phone on silent, but I check it often.”  

“No worries, darling. I promise not to text you during your classes,” Magnus teased as he took the paper and retrieved his phone from his pocket. He quickly sent off a text and saw Alec smiling, looking at his phone. “Now you have my number as well.”

“I promise not to text you during classes as well, though I don’t know when that is,” Alec offered and saved Magnus’ phone number. He looked at the clock on his phone and grimaced. As much as Alec wanted to keep talking and getting to know Magnus, he was already going to be ten minutes late to pick-up Jace. “I have to go, though. I promised Jace I would pick him up.”  

“No problem, Alexander,” Magnus smiled as he opened the door, seeing how once again Alec had slightly frozen when he used his full name. “I can stop using it, sorry.”

“No! I d-don’t mind when you use it,” Alec stuttered and turned to the side a bit to hide the blush making its way up to his face.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Magnus replied with a smirk and grabbed the red card from the door. “I’ll see you around, Alexander. Don’t be a stranger. Text me.”

“I will,” Alec called out as Magnus waved. He knew his sister was going to ask him a million questions, but it was okay. Magnus was another topic Alec didn’t think he’d mind talking about.

[alienog]

Discord SS Gift!

So I’ve taken part in a secret santa event on Discord and heres the gift for my recipient! I’ve never written a self insert/in second person before so this was also a challenging and exciting exercise! 

Doppio/Diavolo/Reader, Hanahaki..AU I suppose.

It’s a hard thing to remember now, what his face looked like. How his eyes shine or even how his voice sounds, bent over you as you struggle to breathe. The way you cling to life makes his expression fall from that of a deeply sickening smile to a slow disappointed boredom. You’re taking too long, and he makes sure you know it with a soft click of his tongue counting down the seconds. He’s not the same Doppio you remember, sweet as lemon pie and to your knowledge up until now, wouldn't hurt a fly. His brother however, he was the one you had been wary about. Your wrongness sat like rancid betrayal in the pit of your stomach. 

At first you didn't believe it when you started coughing up flower petals. The idea of such a thing was ludicrous and only something you'd ever heard of in passing online. It wasn't real and so you didn't pay any mind to its concept beyond your macabre imagination. 

There were Tulips that summer. Much to your delight, the garden park had cultivated yet another section in their greenhouse as they seemed to do every year and you were excited to be able to sit amongst the young flowers and sketch out a budding idea. It struck you as a little off the way that they suddenly grew new flowers seemingly overnight, but the wary unease of uncertainty was overshadowed by the whelm of joy that followed at having an excuse to go back there.

You were excited because the owner of the garden, the groundskeeper, the cultivator, was a very fine looking man who looked a lot younger than he actually was. When you first lay eyes on him, with his pink hair tied back in an intricate braid, a mass of bangs pushed to the side of his face, and an apron tied tightly around his waist, you allowed a passive thought on his looks but nothing more. 

Not until you started to frequent the place to take in each new flower that started to appear. He approached you first, his smile warm and inviting. He asked, with his hands wringing a rag between them, what you were working on. 

“Just an idea I saw online,” You answered politely, though you preferred to be alone and you tried to make that clear by saying nothing else. 

“Could I see it?” 

Despite your inclination to decline, you instead smiled and nodded. It’s only the nice thing to do, being in his space anyways. So you let the sketchbook in your hands lower enough so he can see what's been etched into your mind and scratched to the page with careful practice. The picture itself is a simple bust surrounded by elegant flowers, all of which inspired from the garden, their stems hooked through one another and bloomed into petals flushed a deep red. 

He seemed to take well to it with a hint of a smile curving the edges of his mouth. 

“It's beautiful,” He says, “In a dark kind of way.”

You offer a slight smile in return and he can feel the shift in mood. He gets shy just then and awkwardly nods again.

“Sorry..I didn't mean to disturb you.” 

You reassured him, falsely, that it's no trouble because in truth his slight interruption wasn't that big of a grievance. He was polite enough to back off when you didn't seem interested in being disturbed. Maybe some other time when you’re not engulfed in your work, but for now he left you be and kept his distance in the days to come. 

The second time he approaches you was on the first day you no longer have your sketchbook. Having finished with the piece you were working on you decided it would be nice to just enjoy the flowers instead of having your nose to the grindstone. He greeted you politely upon your arrival and when he noticed you were wandering by yourself that's when he struck up a conversation. Light, nothing that said you had to stay committed to it if you desired to leave or even be by yourself and you're thankful for that but you don't mind this time. In fact, he seemed quite nice. 

He introduced himself as Doppio and you gave him your name in return. He smiled, wide this time, enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes and told you that name wasn’t what he expected, which caused an eyebrow of yours to raise. 

“Yea?” You say.

“Oh, I just..well..” 

Then the smile fell, and he got a bit nervous again, his hands wringing a towel in a faint attempt at “cleaning” them of imaginary dirt. 

“I promise I’m not trying to be creepy, you just come in here a lot and I just wondered what your name was because I didn't know what to call you so..I just started making some up.”

You laughed at that, just enough to make a sound, and his whole demeanor visibly relaxed. He went on to explain that it was just passive curiosity. Tending to flowers all day every day got a little monotonous sometimes and he didn't have much to think about on the average day. Your silent company had kept his spirits up the past couple of weeks. 

This first encounter, you don't talk about much. He’s very clearly nervous about something and on one hand you hope he doesn't see you as too intimidating but on the other you can already sense the feeling he’s exuding and you’re ready to just tell him you're not interested, simply because he looks rather young for you. 

When you find out he’s actually thirty three you have a hard time processing that. Of course, you didn't think he’s lying. It was an oddly specific age for him to just be making it up, and what would he stand to gain by lying? Your affections you suppose. It’s no secret to you he’s trying to get closer to you. He’s not exactly subtle in his body language and you’ve done this song and dance long enough to tell when a guy is trying maybe a bit too hard. Before, you brushed it off to a young boy's crush, but now that you know how old he really is, you don't mind so much. You even allow yourself to be flattered and maybe entertain a passing interest.

In the weeks following you go to the garden just as much as you would if you had a project you were working on. Only now it was just to see the plants and as time passes you admitted you do like seeing the gardener around more often than not. 

The first time you actually instigated the conversation he looked taken by surprise, his light freckled face lit up with a familiar smile and you fall into conversation more like old friends than awkward acquaintances. It’s not until later he admitted he was waiting for you to reciprocate. He doesn't say it, but you knew he couldn't quite loosen up without knowing for certain he wasn't bothering you.

You’re the one to ask for a first “date”. It was more just going out to drinks to talk more, but no matter what way you phrased it in your head it sounded like you were asking him on a date, and in the back of your mind you knew you didn't actually mind if he thinks of it like that. To see his eyes light up just from you asking is enough to make you smile. 

The night went by quicker than you expected, better too. You talked for hours and you found he’s actually quite fascinated with horror movies and he complimented you on your art. At least, what you’ve shown him of it which up until now has been three things. Still, he says he loves the darker tones and the themes you explore. He knew his stuff much to your surprise. 

After that night you had two more like it, though in varying locations. A walk by the pier and a night at an actual restaurant which ended with him walking you home because you may have ordered one too many drinks. You weren't paying attention, just having a good time with him and he left you at your door with a peck on the cheek, but you knew you wanted more than that. If he was ready, you were and in your more inebriated state you lean in for a quick kiss. You don't linger too much, don't make it strange, and he accepts it as pink dusts his cheeks. You thought things were going well.

He said a goodbye to you before heading off and you felt a flutter in your chest. With a warmth in your cheeks you unlocked the door and head inside for the night. It's not until later, when you’ve almost settled in that you don't remember taking your keys out of the door. You huffed at yourself and got up. Sure enough there they are dangling from the doorknob and out of the corner of your eye you noticed there was something on the ground by your door. A square of thick tanned brown leather. A wallet. You bent down to pick it up and flipped it open to confirm your suspicions. With slight apprehension of trying to find Doppio so late you reassured yourself that it's better you give it back than wait and not have enough time tomorrow. He was probably worried sick wondering where he must have left it. 

The lights, installed amongst the flowers, were on inside the greenhouse when you made it to Doppio's doorstep. You were about to knock on the door when you noticed everything was off except for one glaring porch light under which you stand. For a moment you stood there, stuck between wondering whether he was asleep or out in the garden even this late at night. The lights were probably on at all times right? That made the most sense. He must have been sleeping. 

But, even when you turned your back on the house and started to head down the steps you think how it wouldn't hurt just to check. You’d rather not force him to have to go through a whole day without his ids and credit cards. 

The overgrown grass bent beneath your feet as you moved towards the greenhouse. You were wary about making too much noise despite the fact you had barely anything on you besides the clothes on your back, which made barely any noise at all. You can't help this creeping sensation that you weren't  supposed to be there. It’ll just be a peek inside, just in case, you told yourself. 

Through the glass, smudged from use, you didn't immediately see anything, just the flowers, their heads bowed towards the paths that ran through the building. With a sigh, you released the tension you held in your back and realized you had nothing to be worried about. There was nothing but the expected plants. 

You were about to go again, you even turned away to walk back to the street, when you suddenly heard a crash, much like pottery shattering, and a string of heavy deep curses. It didn't sound like Doppio at all. Not that he wouldn't swear, you’re sure he probably did, like most people, even if you couldn't imagine it. Now you’re on alert. Was there someone trying to break into the greenhouse? You crouched down out of instinct and crept back to the glass. There was nothing going through your head that was rational. You know there's really nothing you can do on your own. You should really just call the police, but you didn't want to cause a scene. What if it’s not what you think?

You weren't really in the right mind to be making these kinds of decisions, but that didn't stop you from going up to the door of the greenhouse and testing to see if it's locked and you were somewhat surprised when it is. The door, as it’s pulled, squeaked from the rust setting into the hinges. You hear someone shuffle and freeze in place. You had no idea what you were doing but you were determined nonetheless and even though it's your fear that grounded you you’d like to think you would stand your ground no matter what. 

“Hello?” The voice, definitely not Doppios, it’s much too deep, sounded  unconcerned by your presence. For a moment you were unsure whether to answer or to back away and pretend you’re not there at all but before you can make a decision you’re already speaking. 

“Hello?” You said back, “Hi, can I help you?” 

You asked as if you own this place, but you’re running under the assumption this person is not meant to be here. From around the corner stepped, backwards, a man with long pink hair draped over his shoulders and piercing green eyes. In his hands he held a few pieces of the broken pot. 

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?’

“I don't know, should you?”

It sounded like he laughed when he exhaled through his nose and he smiled, though the way he does has you unnerved. 

“Okay, let's start over then. My name is Diavolo, I tend the grounds here, you?’ 

You hesitate but do give him your name in the end. Having said he tends the grounds, and you having no evidence to disbelieve him, you feel an embarrassed warmth spread across your cheeks. You swallow that feeling though and focus on why you really came here. 

“You know Doppio then?”

“Very well.” He says.

"You live with him?"

"You could say that." 

“Then can you give this to him?” 

You pulled the wallet out of your pocket and took a step closer, letting the door close behind you with its shrill squeals but you didn't get any closer. You don't know what it is but you couldn't help but feel scrutinized under this man's gaze. He was looking at you with a familiarity, as though you should know who he is, but you know for a fact you’ve never met him before in your life. His grin made you unsure about getting any closer, though whether that's because of the vibes he's giving off or because you were both alone out in a garden this late at night, and so you held out the wallet to at least keep him at arm's length. 

“I’ll make sure he gets it, don't worry.” He said and you knew, in the back of your mind, that he must have meant it sincerely, but you couldn't help but feel put off by his dangerously low tone. 

It’s later, when you asked Doppio about it, you learn that they’re brothers, but you rarely, if ever to your knowledge, saw them together. 

Three full weeks after the run-in with Diavolo you started to get more serious about how you feel for Doppio. He was sweet and he respected your boundaries when you set them. Nothing was official at the moment, but you wondered if maybe it could be? It was no more than a passing thought one morning while you’re out walking and the next day you start to feel under the weather. You had a slight shortness of breath and there was an ache in your chest, dull enough to continue life as normal but always just on the back of your mind. At first, you thought it was just congestion. Perhaps you had a cold coming on soon. If that was the case then you hoped it hurried itself up and got itself over with sooner rather than later. To your displeasure, it didn't. In fact, the ache worsened along with the shortness of breath to the point you really started to wonder what's going on. You tried to google it, to no avail.

On the day you thought to go to the doctor to get looked at, you woke up with a much duller pain, but it was still just as hard to breathe. You moved into your bathroom, the tile cold against your bare feet, and looked in the mirror. Nothing seemed outwardly wrong with you, but that doesn't mean anything. 

You opened the cupboard to take the tiny plastic cup off the Nyquil and got some water from the sink. Anything to help ease the sudden swell in your throat. You downed that little cup and though it wasn't not easy, you swallow. The effect wasn't instant, but you were surprised when the swelling eased up. Now it was no more than a tickle in the back of your throat and you coughed to try and see if you could dislodge the rest of this bizarre blockage. Through bouts of coughing, hacking, you felt something shift in the back of your throat and you spat into the sink. It felt odd to say the least. Almost solid as it came out of your mouth and you looked down into the sink. 

Drops of blood caught your attention first, then as you looked closer you noticed these small purple petals, crumpled up and scattered in the sink. You picked one up between your thumb and forefinger. It’s supple texture is slicked with blood but it is undeniably a flower petal. 

Your heart was in your throat suddenly. You werent sure what to make of this. The hanahaki disease, that's what it was called right? That was supposed to be fake. Just an interesting idea to think about. Not something real? The petals in the sink beg to differ. You’re frozen, one hand still clenched on the side of the sink, screaming internally to do something about this. But what? What do you do to treat a fictional ailment? Who do you call? When you looked online again, in a little less of a frantic panic, you come up with nothing. All accounts of the disease had been disproven and the general speculation is that it was entirely the figment of one's imagination. 

Well, if it is, you begged your imagination to stop, because it was making it hard to breathe and you were worried what might happen if it’s allowed to continue. If it was affecting your real life it had to be real. The only “cure” they say is for the person you were pining after to love you back and you internally scoffed at that. That didn't apply here. There wasn't anyone you’re pining after, no. So you’ve been on a few dates with Doppio, and you liked him a lot, but it's not unrequited love..is it? 

Your heart sunk from your throat all the way to your stomach and your eyes narrowed. You were unsure now. Was he just lying all this time? Or is it something else? You couldn't even believe you’re entertaining the idea that this could be real. 

The first thing you thought to do is call Doppio. Come clean. Maybe you guys could talk about this and it would all just blow over like a bad dream. You sure hoped so but you don't hold out too much. He was not picking up and you felt the tickle in the back of your throat again of the encroaching illness. 

Everything's hazy but you remember the panic starts to set in backed by a rational anger and frustration at your current predicament. You remember getting into your car after one too many missed calls and just driving over there. You know where he is of course. You’re not sure he ever leaves the garden unless he’s with you. 

You remember your harsh and hurried footsteps up to the door to the greenhouse. The place wasn't open yet, it was far too early, but you know that the door isn’t locked. There's nothing to steal. With a harsher force than necessary you fling open the doors, your panic well contained on your face. You don't let anything show. Only your more labored breathing gives away the facade. 

“Doppio?” You call out over the sound of the sprinklers, but there's no answer and you scour the place to no avail. Your only other option is his house. 

All it takes is one knock for him to answer, his smile still bright as though he knows nothing and for a moment you want to believe it. You want to buy into his sweetness again. But the nagging growth in your throat serves as a constant reminder why you’re here. 

“Can I come in?” You ask, though your voice is chewed up and raspy. You’re clearly struggling and his face falters while he steps aside. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, “Do you need water?” 

You start to say yes but you cough and have to spit another petal onto the floor. Doppio, who almost turned towards the kitchen, looks at you.

“Oh.” He simply states, “Faster than I expected. A bit easier too... It’s rare, very rare, unless you know what you're doing. Did you know that each person has their own type of flower?” 

As he’s speaking you feel something in your chest tighten and it grips your throat. You feel the need to cough the blockage away again, but no matter how much you try nothing changes. Leaning against the wall with one arm you’re gasping and Doppio raises your chin for you to look into his eyes. He’s certainly not the Doppio you remember. His eyes have changed color, they hold much more malice than they ever did or you ever imagined they could. They remind you of his brother. 

“I wonder what's yours." He says and bends down to pick up the petals you've coughed onto the floor. He holds them up as if inspecting them in the light. "

You'll make a wonderful addition. We haven't had irises yet.” He says with a glance back to you. 

It's then your worst fear becomes realized and everything runs through your head at once. Fear, regret, anger, so much anger at letting yourself get into this mess as your body fails itself. You’re going to suffocate, there's no doubt in your mind. You fall to your knees, practically retching up petals. At the same time you appear among the list of the missing, a beautiful new section of irises has opened up in the garden much to another person's delight. 

[beautybranding12]

How Fenty’s Beauty Branding Positioning Generated $100 Million In 40 Days

Many of Huda Beauty’s high posts featured the brand’s photogenic founder, suggesting the brand is taking advantage of that Huda magic. Beauty branding is all about first impressions and in the enterprise of beauty the bar is set excessive. Salons want a distinctive style to face out and entice fashion-savvy shoppers in an over-saturated market. We are a beauty branding company, our skilled brand id companies create related, believable, well-positioned manufacturers https://mslk.com/.

Don’t cover them on a webpage nobody visits; use them to underscore your advertising, your website copy, and every thing else that comes from your model, implicitly and explicitly. According to Brand Finance, L'Oreal Paris is the main make-up brand in relation to net worth. In 2020 it's value was value a whopping 11.75 billion US dollars. It's adopted by Gillette and Nivea in the second and third places, respectively. Anyone could be their own makeup artist with the assistance of Make Up For Ever.

This beauty branding logo is kind of made up of a monogram illustration and a wordmark. The monogram is made up of a artistic and edgy letter mixture. The U and D are uppercase and angular, with gentle swirls, onerous traces and modern aptitude. Color is merely certainly one of three logo components - others are symbol and font.

The brand’s skincare, makeup and perfume merchandise combine science and sweetness to achieve the right blend of modern thinking and timeless style. Created by François Nars in 1994, NARS Cosmetics launched with simply 12 lipsticks. Since then, the label has grown considerably and now provides a various and in depth assortment of magnificence merchandise for women of all skin sorts. You don’t want to purchase couture clothes to find a way to put on luxurious.

This mega cosmetics firm is certainly one of the largest on the earth and has been providing girls with incredible cosmetics and fragrances since 1886. RMS Beauty prides itself on creating merchandise that are not solely non-toxic but in addition nourishing to the skin. The label’s makeup and skincare ranges function raw, food-grade and natural elements that promote anti-ageing and long-lasting magnificence.

They’ve backed up their dedication to that base of their marketing, and they’ve used social media to attach with their clients in unfiltered and organic methods. Since Lilah b isn't brand new, Foland is working via well timed issues that are important to modern beauty customers. The brand is increasing the variety of foundation shades provided, of which there are at present only 5, and addressing sustainability, an increasing area of focus for the wonder trade. The frequency of assortment has increased from monthly to weekly in just some years, and Lilah b is devoted to persevering with the scheme as a value of doing enterprise. Vegan beauty brand The Lip Bar was a prime performer on each Instagram and Twitter this year.

As prospects are exposed to a beauty model extra typically, they become extra inclined to like it. Successful brands have a constant look and feel in every little thing they put in front of their prospects. One of the major benefits of this type of consistency is that it offers easy recognition of any product amongst customers. Attractive packaging design is a motivating pressure in encouraging folks to make impulsive selections. Taking benefit of this reward-seeking conduct with a good design can have a robust influence on customers’ receptiveness to your products.

To be thought-about natural, the product must meet non-toxic standards for ingredients and processing. Up from $483B in 2020 to $511B in 2021 — and with an annual compounded development rate of four.75% worldwide — it’s predicted to exceed $716B by 2025. Long controlled by legacy conglomerates, the sweetness business has turned on-line. Spend a while really nailing down what makes your products different. You have to not be afraid to level out what makes you stand out, there’s plenty of power in that. You’re a growing group with systemic issues which may be affecting your brand.

Lilah B promote multi-use merchandise using "clean" components, encouraging clients to recycle their old cosmetics packaging. Customer engagement is handiest if it’s organic, through “deep connection” corresponding to user-generated content or influencers who've plausible relationships with products. A robust online presence might help entice stockists—so it’s worth investing in social media areas. Early on, you will want to create a website—try Squarespace for an inexpensive, secure, and slick on-line retailer you could build your self with no coding skills. I constructed my very own retailer on Squarespace within the time it took to watch an episode of Black Mirror.

Skincare model Mary Kay swiftly jumped into the fight against coronavirus by redirecting resources to fabricate hand sanitizer within the early days of the pandemic. Instagram followers jumped in to applaud the brand’s actions with more than 17,000 likes and comments. Not all brands went so far as to change up manufacturing, however many beauty manufacturers tried to make a difference by actively sharing what they have been doing to fight the pandemic with followers on social media. Many manufacturers noticed success with giveaways this yr, but this one from ColourPop is a textbook instance of a dynamite social media giveaway. The brand stored the criteria for entry easy and centered on ColourPop as an alternative of creating fans hop around to a bunch of different brands. The giveaway in celebration of a big follower milestone sneakily helped ColourPop develop followers even more by incentivizing casual followers to follow the model on Instagram.

The company serves various industries together with sports, leisure, food & beverage, retail and travel. But the joy in this brand comes in its simplicity — particularly in comparability to the encompassing packaging. The monogram is made up of the overlapping E and L of the model name in a curly, inventive and splendid font. The backward “N” adds a cool, innovative and edgy tone to the logo that elevates the brand’s mastery within the beauty industry. Due to Instagram API limitations, we’re capable of pull accurate Instagram engagement numbers only for verified and/or Instagram business accounts. Helpful business articles, our work, and special provides are introduced on these platforms.

You’ll also need an on-brand business card full with your logo, website and another components of your model identity, to construct these connections. The visual id communicates instantly what it would take a long time to place throughout in words. For example, are your values natural, natural and eco-friendly or glamorous and glossy? The customer will instantly get an impression from your packaging and marketing materials to assist them resolve if the product is for them. Of course the phrases are important too, but you have to get your clients to notice you first, and that's where visuals are so necessary.

After Fenty launched, their deep shades offered out across the nation, and customers took to social media to share their joy at discovering foundations that matched their pores and skin tone. But while Fenty is priced as a luxury model, they still aren’t as expensive as most of the other manufacturers promoting a lot of shades. Estée Lauder’s foundation range with forty two shades, for instance, is priced at $42; Fenty’s foundation is $35.

By posting YouTube movies of her make-up routines and sharing seems on her Snapchat tales, she had positioned herself as a number one voice. eMarketer reviews that 38% of shoppers interested in testing pop-up stores are those that already store on-line every week in comparability with 28% preferring brick-and-mortar shopping. By engaging with its followers in a face-to-face setting, Glossier is prepared to deepen relationships with customers past online interactions. Yet, it doesn’t come with the monetary obligations of following a chain-store mannequin. With different themes in every area and experiential advertising activations — it’s constructed hype that attracts droves of brand name lovers desperate to try out the products in real-time.

While the beauty and private care business will stay strong globally, the cosmetics and skincare verticals specifically will expertise probably the most income growth within the US at a fee of 3.5% by 2021. Crafted is a inventive branding agency that companions with startups and fortune 100 brands across the globe. They have experience in brand design, video manufacturing, web site improvement ad content material advertising. Does a Black-owned magnificence brand need to post about Black founders, Black influencers, and makeup shades for darker skin tones to be successful on social media?

Fenty is a good instance of magnificence brand advertising, from their partaking social media channels which include sharing well-liked memes on Twitter and sharing selfies of their clients sporting Fenty makeup. Fenty was initially launched in 2017 by way of an exclusively digital marketing campaign and to this present day the model is a testomony to the significance of how important the web area is for modern magnificence manufacturers. Different branded cosmetics model design elements by Almi designLogo. Your brand is the face of your beauty enterprise and, as such, it’s the most important component you’ll bring to life through the branding course of. Fenty found next-level success because it positioned itself from day one as a diverse brand for a various buyer base. They’ve built products for an enormous and underserved market—women whose pores and skin tones don’t fall into the ranges that the most important makeup brands focus on.

According to NPD, Benefit Cosmetics had a 50% share of the £20 million brow market in 2016, and that was before the model launched thirteen model new brow-related products. Fenty continues this strategy across digital channels, using YouTube tutorials and stay virtual events to generate engagement and hype around each new product launch. Many magnificence brands launched digital tools in 2020, as customers have been unable to visit stores , and L’Oreal’s ‘Signature Faces’ digital make up line was arguably one of the most innovative releases.

Your web site is a superb platform to start a dialogue about all magnificence topics and, who is aware of, maybe a while down the road you might begin producing a line of beauty products that you never considered. Funkhaus is a digital creative company working on the intersection of design, content material, programming, and strategy. One reason behind Benefit’s domination of the area is its shrewd advertising activity, which in 2017 concerned the ‘Browmobile’ campaign. Combining experiential elements with digital advertising, it involved an online competition offering customers the possibility to win a visit from the browmobile.

"Aside from social media, a advertising tactic that usually will get overlooked is the unboxing experience you could create for influencers," says Wittick. "Fabfitfun created a stir about this, yet it’s a tactic that still will get uncared for." When operating a cosmetics advertising marketing campaign on social media, begin by figuring out what makes your product visually intriguing.</p>

<p>Glossier managed to tie for first with last year’s Instagram winner Huda Beauty thanks to dynamic posts tailor-made to the instances. Many of the brand’s prime Insta posts featured COVID updates, assist of frontline staff, and popping out in support of Black Lives Matter, indicating the model was unafraid to take a stand. Going beyond the makeup was a profitable strategy for Glossier throughout all channels and was especially powerful on Instagram.

A logo that conveys your brand and character instantly is one which prospects will respond to. Those are just two examples, but you should take the time to determine the place your clients spend their time if you'd like your marketing to be effective. Once you could have taken these three steps, you have to use the information you could have gathered to market your company and merchandise. New web shoppers must create an online account to earn & redeem rewards. “We actually imagine that Then I Met You has its own distinct branding and story to inform, and we want to grow separate and distinctly from Soko Glam,” says Cho.

You will create much less waste and save vitality by using recycled supplies. This sort of engagement is gold, and firms like ColourPop comprehend it. The brand is constantly increasing its product range and making an attempt new things, and the probabilities are countless. In 2017 it put a name out for a name for a model new, yet-to-be-released concealer and inside seconds had dozens of replies. The website Bustle rapidly caught on to the thread, stating ColourPop teased a possible concealer on Twitter and followers already have the right name idea. A large seventy % of Glossier’s on-line sales come from peer referrals.

Matt Holt, Chief Strategy Officer at Digitas UK, explains why we have to deliver memorability and utility via buyer expertise. The travel trade fascinates me; not just because like everyone else I love a good holiday and a while within the solar, however it’s additionally some of the aggressive industries in relation to the SERPs. A beautifully designed web site in its personal right – it’s fairly simple to get lost browsing round. However, by pointing customers back to content material on the primary Aesop web site, it is in a position to deliver on its authentic function of promoting the core model.

Social media cosmetics branding by JayJacksonIf you need your magnificence brand to succeed, you need to model yourself on social media. While all platforms are necessary, YouTube and Instagram are each visual platforms where the majority of magnificence content material lives, making them, palms down, the most important channels for beauty manufacturers. Fenty launched with forty totally different shades of foundation, encompassing an enormous variety of pores and skin tones. As a outcome, the company was in a place to supply a greater number of choices in darker and lighter shades of make-up than most other major firms.

Logo by thisisremedy for Floral Chemistry.Customers wish to work with manufacturers they'll stand behind. So when you really wish to connect together with your customers, you should do greater than make superb lipsticks or tremendous pigmented shadows—you want a powerful corporate mission and values. Sign up for our free, 7-day e mail course and learn to construct the proper model id. When it comes to branding your corporation, there are three fundamental ideas you have to understand.

It specializes in science, and you'll see that within the design components that the logo embodies. You can’t ignore a model whose beauty brand is shiny, daring and dynamic in the way this model is — and you don’t want to. The first store opened a hundred sixty five years ago as a New York apothecary, nevertheless it has advanced right into a model that cares about all-natural merchandise and the shoppers that use them. Glossier is a modern cosmetic brand that is identified for its simplicity and minimalism — in its product providing and its product packaging.

The flowing feel of a script font is inherently feminine and conveys a simple class that might be perceived at a look. What meaning in sensible phrases is that the competitors in the magnificence industry is fierce. The huge cosmetics corporations are continuously engaged in a battle to win the business of more and more subtle customers. And even in the smallest cities, generally two or three hair or nail salons have to compete with one another for a small pool of shoppers. Over the previous twenty years we now have helped manufacturers grow from the bottom up, launch line extensions, rediscover their voice in a crowded market, and create totally new product categories. While public relations, partnerships, events like Indie Beauty Expo, and different advertising tactics may be efficient, Instagram influencers will actually increase your beauty business.

The emblem is a mirror of this magnificence brand’s products, usually described as bold, surprising and vivid. Its aesthetics is immediately derived from Kat’s tattoo artistry in its intricate typography sample even in its retail places which echo stylistic cues from gothic artwork and structure. It balances a regal history with a contemporary energy that can’t be ignored or tamed.