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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 5- Number Five

Summary: You finally found Five, drunk, but you found him. Patch is dead. And now you and Diego are on the hunt for the masked killers with assistance from Klaus.

Masterlist - where all the other chapters are⚔️

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

You burst through your apartment door with a new rage overthrowing your recent grief, Diego’s right on your tail, trying to catch up with you the best he can. Your strides are fast as you march hastily through the small room, heading straight for Five. “You boy scout looking fuck. Do you have any idea what you’ve just caused?” You growl launching yourself at him with fists in the air, without warning Luther catches you before you can really tear into Five. “No! Let me go you fucking monkey boy, get your hands off of me!” You yell at him, as he lifts you up off the ground, “I can do this as long as it takes you to calm down.” Says Luther calmly. You continue to struggle in his strong grasp, seriously contemplating if you’ve lost it enough to bite him before Diego sets a hand on your tense shoulder. Further stopping you before you can find a way to break free by injuring Luther, “Y/N, please.”

You make a lowly animistic sound, like that of a beaten circus tiger, as you stop struggling, “Fine.” Luther then sets you down.

“Now, wanna tell us what you’re talkin’ about?”

You glare at Five, still upset from finding Eudora dead in that motel room. You were gonna have lunch with her on Friday and then explain why Diego’s been so persistent about the shootings. You hadn’t had a chance to talk with her yet. And now you never will.

“Your brother’s been pretty busy since he got back. He was in the middle of that shootout at Giddy’s, and then at Gimble Brothers, after those masked psychos attacked the Academy, looking for him.” You snap, staring daggers at Five.

He barely moves a muscle, “None of which is any of your concern.” He mutters calmly, way to damn calmly for you.

You scowl at him in annoyance, “It is now you little shit. They just killed my friend.” You vent back, stepping in closer, Diego has to grab your arm from tearing into the tiny 58 year old man in front of you.

“Who are they Five?” Questions Luther, breaking the tense atmosphere.

“And where the hell are they from?” Adds Diego, hand still firmly grasping your arm.

Five gives you all a tired look, “They work for my formal employer at the commission. A woman called the Handler. She sent them...to stop me. Then as soon as Y/N and Diego’s friend got in their way, well, fair game.” Five shrugs, so this is just business is business to him.

“Well they’re my fair game now. And I’ll make sure of it that they pay in blood.” You sneer, turning around and walking briskly towards the door, Diego hot on your tail.

“That would be a mistake Diego, for you to let her go.....They’ve killed people far more dangerous then you think.” Calls Five, you stop by the railing to look back at him.

“I’d like to see them try and kill me then....the next time I see them will be when I drive my dagger into their throats.” You growl with malice, turning away from them to walk out the door.

Luther looks to Diego and then back at Five with a stunned face, “I don’t care what she does. She just better not miss.” Says Five with a sigh, as Diego nods while making towards the open door.

You get into the passenger seat as Diego takes the steering wheel, he turns the car on, turning to look at you, “Are you okay?” He whispers gently. You stare vacantly out the side window, “No. Just drive.” You mumble sadly, you’re trying to be strong but one of your only friends has just been killed violently by two masked psychopaths. It’s a bit difficult if you’re being honest, but you’re too numb with silent fury to cry at the moment.

He nods in understanding, putting the car into drive and taking off.

——

You stand silently in Diego’s doorway at the Umbrella Academy, he pulls out a metal briefcase from under his bed, and opens it up. It’s his old knife case, he then puts his remaining free knifes that are hiding on him in the case. He quickly shuts it and locks it up, leaving it on the floor to stand up and walk over to you. “Do you have anything you need to get before we head out?” He says while holding the sides of your arms. You look up at him, “I am all that I need.” You whisper valiantly, meaning absolutely every word, underlying so much more behind that small sentence.

Your mind flashes back to your younger days when you were fighting alongside with the Umbrella Academy, you had wanted so badly to prove that you belonged among them. Your mindset solely focused on accomplishing the mission successfully, hoping that Reginald would be satisfied with your hard work. Through your attempts, you may have went a little overboard, losing control at times, lashing out furiously on the enemy. You turned into something incredibly dangerous, but at the time all you saw was a warrior, a hero, a vital piece of the Umbrella Academy that could not be held back. You were so lost in your own success and the satisfaction of Sir Reginald that you didn’t notice when the Umbrella Academy was starting to become afraid of you. It was the most lonely and darkest couple weeks of your life that you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t fully understand why they wouldn’t want to play with you. It started on a mission, you’d just discovered that whenever you were completely in full rage mode, your eyes would turn the color of molten lava, a deep orange, perhaps your body’s way of showing off the raging fire within you, or so you’d tell yourself. Quite opposite of your original eye color. You’d never realized it before until Allison pointed it out after an intense mission once. To keep a long story short, you killed a bunch of terrorists who were about to kill your friends. You tore into them wildly, your eyes practically glowing embers. You were breathing heavily and covered in other people’s blood by the time you were done. For a week they wouldn’t even look at you, it took longer for Ben to come around. And you absolutely hated yourself for it. Of course Reginald was ecstatic, mentioning your achievement at dinner one night, of how you unlocked a hidden power within yourself and that the others should strive to do the same. The rest of them fumed in jealousy, deciding to ignore you for awhile as payback, since they couldn’t hurt you physically. And they were to scared about what you could have done back at them. You felt like a caged lioness, a powerful and deadly creature, being taunted and stared at from afar by snotty children who are safe and content behind the thick glass.

But life goes on, and you’ve sacrificed yourself for them a couple hundred times since then, more then they’ll ever be able to repay. With time they began to understand you better, and amazingly to your great surprise Diego, out of all people, had a ginormous crush on you. Which led to even more wonderful things you’re scared little 13 year old self could never have even dreamed of. You got older, stopping caring about Reginald’s approval, and moved on with your life. Things got much better after that.

Your wandering mind comes back to reality when Diego kisses your forehead, he understands your somber silence, choosing to comfort you in the best way he possibly can. He releases you, turning to pick up his silver briefcase as you take a step out the door. Waiting a brief moment for your vigilante lover to catch up with you.

As you walk down the stairs and across the messy carpet past the damaged fallen chandelier. You notice Klaus who’s standing by the broken crushed table, he looks a bit lost and out of it. Oddly enough it’s not from any alcohol consumption or other substances. At least that you can smell, he’s clean.

“What happened here?” Klaus asks curiously, you look over to him with a casual shrug.

“Long story.” You add, not really wanting to get into details right now.

“You look like shit.” Diego tells him dryly.

“Why, thank you. Hey, where are you two going?” Wonders Klaus, watching the two of you head for the door. “Nope.” Snaps Diego quickly, Klaus’ face falls at his denied request.

“I’m not giving you a ride.” Grumbles Diego, who’s stopped walking to look at Klaus.

“Oh, come on, man. You know I can’t drive.” He whines, moving in closer to Diego. You stand with your arms crossed by the fallen chandelier, patiently watching the brotherly interaction between the two of them, who’re directly in front of you.

Diego shakes his head, “I don’t c..” You suddenly cut him off, “Go get your shit. We’ll be in the car.” Klaus’ face breaks out into a grateful smile, he laughs lightly before patting Diego on the chest, turning to get his things. “Okay, great. I’ll just get my things. Two minutes.” He says happily, rushing past you with a grin to get whatever it is that Klaus needs.

Diego turns around to give you a what-the-hell kinda look, you casually shrug, “He said two minutes.....and he looks like he could use some friendly interaction.” Diego just sighs, nodding in agreement, “Yeah alright...but only because you’ll be with me.” He replies, before turning towards the door.

You smack his bum as you scoot past him, “It’ll be fun, just like old times.” You quip while Diego shakes his head in amusement, following you out the door.

——

You’re comfortably sprawled out in the backseat, feeling the dull roll of the car moving speedily down the road, while you listen to the hum of the engine. Diego drives, as Klaus drinks from a wine bottle, looking dismally out the window. “You okay?” Diego says after a quiet couple minutes, not getting anything from Klaus, who takes another swig. “Wow. This is a first. My brother Klaus is silent. How bout’ that Y/N.” Diego glances at Klaus again, “Last time you were this quiet, we were 12. Ran down the stairs wearing Grace’s heels, tripped over, and broke your jaw. How long was it wired shut again?” He wonders.

“Eight weeks.” Whispers Klaus tiredly, still staring out the window.

“Eight glorious weeks of bliss.” Smiles Diego, you sit up sticking your head between the two of them. “And I missed out on it all, damn.” You mutter, trying to mentally visualize the whole scenario. Klaus suddenly lifts his head up, “Hey, just....just drop me off here.” Diego nods, you look across the street at the building in mind, Lakeshore VFW, but that’s where the veterans go? None of you have ever been in the army, at least that you know of.

Diego pulls into the small parking lot, Klaus jumping out as soon as he stops, now you’re very confused. “You sure you’re all good, Klaus?” You call after him, he ignores you as he nervously walks up to the door, opening it and walking inside. You look over to Diego who’s equally as puzzled, he turns around about to start the car again. When you instantly reach your hand out to touch his shoulder, “Wait, I’m gonna go in and see what’s up with Klaus.” Diego stops, turning his neck to look at you, “I guess I better go in too. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself Y/N...I mean Klaus probably needs me an...”

“Diego.” You deadpan, shutting him up instantly. He takes the keys out of the ignition, as you open up your door, Diego doing the same. The two of you then start walking towards the entrance, clueless as to why Klaus would have wanted to stop here.

You walk in, finding him moping around some old WWll photographs, you sigh, beginning to walk over to Klaus, Diego right behind you. Throwing a hand on Klaus’ shoulder you unintentionally startle him, “Just go away, please.” He asks you, while rubbing his eyes. You let go of his shoulder, half-sitting yourself against the pool table, Diego steps up next to him, “Not until you talk to us.”

“Is that a threat? You threatening me?” He mutters, annoyed that you two won’t leave him alone. Suddenly a random guy to your left walks up to the three of you, “Guys. This bar? It’s for vets only.” He states, urging you all to leave.

“I am a vet.” Says Klaus, by the way he announces it, you can sense he’s not lying. But how would he have been a vet. Something wrong definitely happened in that whole day he was missing.

The veteran chuckles, not believing him in the slightest, “Really? Where’d you serve?” He says amused, glancing back at his friends. “None of your business.” Snaps Klaus defensively. The grumpy vet starts to lose his humor, and apparently his temper too. His face falling, “You got balls comin’ in here, pretendin’ you’re one of us.” You glance at Diego, who gives you a what-is-even-happening, look. Klaus turns around, “Oh, I have every right to be here, just like you. Asshole.” He says growling the last word. Shit. The large and pissed off vet takes a step closer, you step in front of Klaus, raising your hands up to stop him, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy now, soldier. All right? My friend here has had one too many.” You look to his friends beginning to gather around behind him, then back to him, “Let’s just call it a day, all go our own way. No harm done.” You tell him, doing your best to reason with him and get out of here without a brawl. “Sure thing.” He says bluntly, but you’re unconvinced. “Thank you.” You answer anyway, trying to move things along, you turn to Klaus and Diego, “Let’s go..” “As long as you apologize.” Interrupts the vet, Klaus looks back at the photographs giggling to himself. You give Diego a defeated look, as you turn around to face the vet again. “Fine. I’m sorry. He’s sorry. We’re all sorry. So...are we good?” You tell him, restraining a sour tone the best you can physically muster. He looks at you, pointing to Klaus, “I wanna hear him say it.”

“Hey, man. I’m just trying to..” “No, no. He’s right Y/N. He‘s right. He’s right.” Interrupts Klaus, turning around to face the angry vet and his buddies. “I’d like to apologize...that you...are depriving some village of their idiot!” Growls Klaus, this not sitting very well with the vet. He swings at Klaus but misses when Klaus swiftly ducks, standing up again to head butt the guy. The guy staggers back, his buddy throwing a fist up to catch Klaus across the head. But before he has a chance Diego rushes in, deflecting the punch and kneeing the guy in the stomach. “Seriously.” You groan at all of them. Klaus running past you to jump on the back of another random guy who’s ready to fight.

You roll your eyes, men. Deciding enough is enough you spring into action, it only takes you about 10 seconds before they’re all groaning in pain on the ground, dazed as to how you just took them all out so fast. You stand near the exit, adjusting your jacket. “Let’s go. Right fucking now.” You snarl at Diego and Klaus, who instantly get up off the floor, making a beeline for the door.

——

You’re sitting in the backseat of Diego’s car, him at the steering wheel and Klaus in the passenger seat. Your little trio parked across the street from Giddy’s Donuts. “You got a big mouth, you know that?” States Diego, referring to Klaus’ jabs at that old grumpy vet. “Oh, wow. What a truly shocking revelation, Diego.” Mumbles Klaus unamused, as he goes to open up a bag of pills. “Everything’s a big joke to you, right? Would you stop it?” Diego yells, grabbing the pill bag out of Klaus’ hands. “Why are you putting this shit in your body?” Interrogates Diego, not being able to understand why his brother always does this over and over again.

Klaus blows a raspberry into the air, in frustrated defeat. “Check this out Hmm?” Says Diego as he lifts up his black sweater, where he then pats his toned stomach. “My body is a temple. All that shit you do, it’s just weakness.”He states. You lean up closer in between the two of them.

“That’s so inspirational.” You add sarcastically, earning a small snort form Klaus.

“Well weakness feels so good.” Klaus then reaches his hand up to take a pill, Diego reacting fast as he smacks it out of his hand.

“What’s going on with you? Huh?”

“Don’t hit me asshole!” Yells Klaus, you just sit back and watch the show, Diego leaning in closer as he jabs a finger at him, “Don’t tell me everything is all right, because I saw you in there. You were crying like a baby!” Explains Diego loudly, you covering your ears a bit at his explosion. “Because I lost someone.” Barks Klaus, who looks down at his hands, sighing sadly, “I lost someone. The only...The only person I ever truly loved more then myself.” You sit up again, looking between the two of them. Diego looks out the front window with a puzzled look on his face, not expecting that answer. Klaus just gives you a sad smile, “Cheers.” He says, popping a colorful pill in his mouth.

“Well you’re luckier then most. At least you can still see them...when they....yeah.” You whisper quietly, thinking about your parents and Patch. You lean back into the backseat, turning your head left to look out the window. Diego turns his neck to look at you, about to say something before he catches sight of Hazel through the back window, who’s breaking into a car. “That’s our guy.” You sit up, turning around to see for yourself, “Huh. No shit.”

“Hey, I know that guy.” Adds Klaus, watching Hazel through the side mirror. “How could you possibly know that...” Begins Diego.

“He and a really angry lady tortured me. I barely got out with my life.” Explains Klaus, revealing a heavy part that you missed. You furrow your brows frowning, “Cha-Cha.” You mutter quietly to yourself. These psychos are dead. Diego abruptly starts the engine, pulling out to follow Hazel to wherever he’s going next. And so the hunt begins.

——

The three of you sit in the car, outside of the crappy motel that Hazel unknowingly lead you to. Klaus is sipping on his bottle of wine, while Diego scans the area, you watching the motel windows closely. You suddenly spot movement coming from the blinds of one on the upper floor, on closer inspection it’s a woman, looking incredibly familiar, that must be Cha-Cha. “Bingo.”

Diego looks up, catching a flash of her hand, as the curtains conceal the rest of her. You get out of the car and wait for Diego as he takes out a knife, Klaus just looking at you two bored, “You know killing these people is not gonna make you feel any better, Y/N.” Adds Klaus. You stop for a second to think about why you’re doing this. Diego’s here to avenge a friend, but you’ve kinda been leading the charge this whole time. After all, you were closer friends with Patch then Diego was, and you also know that these fuckers have murdered countless other innocents. They must die, and you’re the best person to do it.

You lean down by the window to look at Klaus, “They killed my friend and countless other innocent people, kill one save a thousand.” You growl, standing back up at the sound of a door opening. You look up, watching as Hazel walks out the door and down the hallway, out of sight. You quickly follow, leaving Diego and Klaus to argue about something from behind you.

Turning a corner, you silently walk up the metal steps to the second floor, Diego practically materializing behind you, daggers out and ready to fight. You both reach the top, but before any of you have time to move Klaus walks up, “So, what exactly is the plan here, you two lovers in crime...fighting?” Muses Klaus, making it to the top steps. “I told you to wait in the car.” Grumbles Diego who gives you a look, “Yeah, but you also told me that licking a nine-volt battery would give me pubes.” You raise an eyebrow at Diego, “We were eight.” Klaus just looks up at Diego giving a shrug as he takes a couple steps. Diego grabs is arm, stopping him quickly as he pulls him down the steps, you’re watching this half annoyed and half holding in laughter. Diego then races back up the stairs, giving you a confident nod as he turns towards the blue motel door. Giving it a hard kick, the door swings open, revealing nothing on the inside but a tv blaring loudly with some western cowboy movie on. “Very subtle.” You quip, slightly irked at how less then clever his surprise ambush was. You turn to the right, looking down at the parking lot as you unexpectedly hear the scratching of tires on pavement. What the hell?

You move towards the railing as a blue car comes speeding into view, with Hazel and Cha-Cha in their familiar get up of Halloween masks and guns. That are now shooting deadly bullets at you and Diego, oh shit Diego. Without warning a bullet rips into your right upper shoulder where your arm and torso meet. A second slicing just below your bellybutton. Diego grabs at you, hauling you backwards as another bullets clips him in the forearm. To your great surprise, Klaus pulls the both of you back even further, evidently helping the two of you avoid getting shot again.

“Oh, man. See? Used to think I was an idiot?” Sasses Klaus at a panting Diego.

“I still think you’re an idiot.” He claps back, holding onto his left arm, where the bullet went through.

You on the other hand are leaning against the staircase railing, sucking in pained breaths as you slowly feel the bullets getting pushes out of you. The flesh beginning to fuse back together once again, Diego and Klaus finally look over to you. “Y/N, you alright?” Wonders Klaus. You glare up at him still grimacing in pain, “No.” You wheeze, shutting your eyes tight, as both bullets are being forced out of you by the rapid healing process, ultimately at long last they drop to the floor, making a ringing sound as they hit the metal staircase. You stand up straight once again, your eyes going wide in realization, “They’re getting away!” You blurt out, racing down the steps, Diego and Klaus hot on your heels. When the three of you make it back to Diego’s car, you notice how the front tire is completely flat. You all groan in frustration, now what? “Was this all part of your master plan?” Doubts Klaus, miffed that no one has a ride now. “Shut up.” Snaps Diego, looking around for something that could assist in the matter.

You look up to the sky, putting your hands on your hips, “Fucking fuck.” You whine loudly to the sky or birds or whoever would listen, snapping your head back down, your eyes land on the large ice cream truck. Parked ever so sweetly and conveniently in front of you. With a new idea fresh in your mind you walk past Diego and Klaus, stopping in front of the white and cutely designed truck. “I found our ride.”

They turn to look at you, Klaus smiling in excitement as Diego’s face falls. “I’ll drive.” Blurts out an ecstatic Klaus.

——

Sticking your head out the window you catch the scent of Hazel and Cha-Cha, they smell of gun powder, fast food, and death. So it wasn’t exactly that difficult to get on their trail. Gosh I’m just like a frickin bloodhound, you think. You sit on the right side while Klaus drives, Diego slumped in the middle seat, putting pressure on his wound. Why you let Klaus drive? You’re pretty sure you have some bullet fragments still stuck in your shoulder, no you definitely do. Why else would it still feel sore, damn you’re gonna have to take those out later.

Now that you look at your surroundings, there’s nothing but trees and farm fields. Plus Luther and Five, standing next to a parked car on the road, while Hazel and Cha-Cha point guns at you from further down the road. Shit. You hold on tight as Klaus manically laughs while plowing into the two assassins. Everything happens so fast and the next second you’re jostled again when the ice cream truck rams right into their getaway car. You smack your head off the window, cracking the glass, as Diego gets shoved into the dashboard. “Fuck.” You seethe through clenched teeth, bringing your hand up to touch the spot on your head. No blood is felt to your great relief and now the pain is gone, unlike Diego who’s clutching his injured arm in pain.

You hear Klaus yelling for you two to get out, not wanting to wait for Diego’s slow ass to make it out of the truck. You kick your door open, breaking the lock in the process, oh well. Not dwelling on the matter, you book it to the other side where Luther and Klaus are holding up Diego as they start running for Luther’s car, without a second thought you follow them, not caring enough to bother with either Hazel or Cha-Cha. You’ll get your chance, the safety of your family is way more important at the moment.

You run around to the passenger side of Luther’s car, Klaus and Diego taking the back, as Luther gets into the drivers seat, hitting the gas and flooring it.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves x reader #falcor the luck dragon stories #what a time to be alive fic #tua #tua season one

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

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Flashback Friday || Morgan & Luis

TIMING: Distant past, in the days of yee-haw

LOCATION: The Magick Cauldron, Houston, Texas

PARTIES: @ontheluis & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Luis wanders into a magic shop looking for some herbs, Morgan spies an opportunity, and the cards know more than either of them reckon.

CONTAINS: Mellow yee-haw vibes

“Welcome, traveler, to the Magick Cauldron! Browse at your pleasure and inquire if you have any questions!” Morgan had given the scripted greeting so many times, it came out of her in full customer service cheer every time the shop door opened. She didn’t even look up from the book she had open under the cash register anymore, but flipped another page and let the customers let her know if there was something worth talking about by shouting ‘lady!’ or coming into her peripheral view.

The Magick Cauldron was the only occult shop still standing West Houston after the Y2K stress fads had died away and the first bout of shiny, corporate development had found its way into Montrose and bulldozed a crystal shop, a Greek deli, and one of the few ladies-only gay bars in favor of a mixed use building that so far only housed a nail salon and a Jamba Juice. Ralf, the fine proprietor of the Cauldron as he called himself, said that this space was protected. As the door chimed open again and Morgan made her welcome speech, bright and shiny as the plastic plate armor hanging in the kid’s section, she wondered if he was right. She never seemed to serve more than a dozen or so customers during her shifts, but the lights stayed on, day after sweltering day. If Ralf was right, it might just be the one piece of real magic in the place, not that she could say that to anyone’s face.

The warped outline of a boy rippled over the glass counter and Morgan blinked up from her book. “Is there something I can help you with, weary traveler?” She asked wryly.

“Sorry ma’am,” Luis assured, “didn’t mean to bring the stray in here,”

Evening had fallen outside, heat from the blistering still wafting off the pavement. Telephone poles and streetlights were thin black columns that stood stark against the blazing orange and wane blues of sunset.

“Go on, git!”

At the Magick Cauldron’s threshold was an enormous black dog. Even while quietly sitting on its haunches the shaggy canine was easily as tall as the teenage boy snapped at it. Pupiless red eyes regarded Luis impassively, only an ear twitch showing that the dog wasn’t just a statue.

When the black dog gave no indication of actually entering the store nor stopping its scrutiny of Luis, the young man cut his losses and regarded the woman at the counter again.

“Here,” Luis reached into a pocket of his jeans and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it on the counter. The names of herbs and powders were written in someone else’s prime neat handwriting. “I uh don’t know what any of this is…,” he confessed.

Morgan took the paper carefully between her fingers, trying not to let her discomfort at how damp and sweaty it was show too much. It didn’t take much to figure out she was looking at an herbalist mixture for anxiety and sleeplessness. She looked up and the boy, and down to the list again. “We’ve got everything you need over here,” she said. She lead the boy over to the bulk aisle where the dried herbs and bottled oils were kept and alphabetized. “Did you want these bagged separate or together? Or--you probably don’t know how these work huh? We’ll do separate, so you can use any excess as you wish. But fair warning, we have a purchase minimum of one ounce for each item.” She put a small paper bag on the shelf in the middle of the display and started shovelling the herbs in. As she worked, she glanded sidelong at the kid and the dog that had decided to become instantly fond of him. Someone cared about them, to throw together this recipe, and he looked embarrassed enough for a kid his age to seem like he needed help. Would it be wrong to squeeze a few more dollars out of him if it so happened to brighten his day or give him some direction? Sure, he was scruffy, but not so much as to be desperate. He could afford a few extra bucks, right?

“Hey, you okay there?” Morgan asked him. “You seem a little lost. I’m getting some ‘needs direction’ vibes from you.” She gestured vaguely. “If you’re looking for Niko Niko’s, it’s just further down the street. You’re not supposed to leave your car here while you go over there, but I won’t tell. And if you need something a little less literal, I might be able to help you with that.” She nodded toward the oracle room at the back of the shop, with its hand painted sign hanging crooked from a nail and entryway draped with lavender beads. “I do have sliding scale rates, if it helps you make up your mind.”

The great black dog continued to watch Luis in silent stillness, the Barghest’s posture poised as if waiting for something.

“No offense ma’am but I don’t believe in…,” the teenager half-turned but caught sight of the enormous stray waiting for him in the darkening sunset. Those pupiless red eyes immediately filled Luis with a nameless dread. Cold sweat stained the back of his T-shirt as Luis’ skin went clammy despite the Texan heat. Luis couldn’t process why some random big-ass dog would wig him out so much. He wasn’t even afraid of it biting him or even the dog itself.

So why was his heart pounding in his temples?

“Yeah uh..s-seperate would be great,” Luis reaffirmed to Morgan needlessly. The labels on the tinctures and herbal selections blurred in his vision as Luis tried to get a handle on his thoughts. “Direction like, oh you mean to the interstate,” Luis replied in a misinterpretation of Morgan’s broader meaning. “I’m alright thanks, yeah merging on that triple hairpin by Foster is a pain in the ass but it's chill.”

Luis looked over to the oracle room with the dubiety of someone for whom the occult was just a vague ‘other’ mentioned at Mass or when abuela suggested a Sonora Market cure for whatever new cold was going around. He seemed about to decline again until the creeping skin-crawl of Barghest’s glare boring into his back made Luis amenable to any distraction.

“Yeah uh sure,” he said, taking a step towards the beaded shroud. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Morgan followed the boy’s eyes to the dog. He was looking pretty well fed for a stray, and his eyes--red, alert, sharp with an uncommon intelligence--made her shiver. Definitely supernatural. She didn’t know, how, or what, but it didn’t look good. “And I mean--” How to put this in just the right way? Or at least the more convincing way? “I mean your spirit, your chakras. Believe in your connection to the universe or not, but are you really going to say to my face that you know how you’re going to make your life worthwhile to yourself? That you know how to reach your greatest good?” No one did. Heck, she was a devout wiccan most days out of the year and even she didn’t know what her highest, greatest good looked like. “And if you’ve got the cash, I’ll throw in a cleansing, something to make--” she gestured at him vaguely, “Whatever negative heavy energy this is that’s stuck to you. Seriously, do you ever feel tired out of nowhere?” It was summer and the sun was exhausting; everyone got tired out of nowhere.

Maybe she was laying it on a little thick, but Morgan was tired of ordering off the dollar menu for dinner and she felt like she was taking her life into her own hands when she conjured money from school pens and laundry lint cotton. This kid’s money might get her a pot pie that didn’t come from the freezer, or enough tacos to last her a week, or maybe she’d blow it all on seafood, or a dress that hadn’t been worn by someone else. “I’ll ring you up first, and then we’ll see about getting the rest of you squared away.” Morgan did, and when that part of the transaction was over, she lead him into the oracle room.

In truth, the oracle room was an old storage closet with the door taken out. Morgan breezed through them and went to the antique flea market find armoire, where all the necessary items were kept. Morgan took out a small tray of tarot decks and took the one she liked best, a well loved Raider-Waite with stars on the backs and gold-gilt edges. “I’ll shuffle them myself, but you should tell me when to cut and start again and when to stop. When I’m done, you’ll spread them. You’re the one who needs to connect with the deck, after all.”

Rafael Martininez had given his son that smirking half-smile while Malia had given Luis the pale blue eyes watching Morgan shuffle cards. Sweaty light brown hair clung to his forehead beneath the Dallas Burn hat, stray strands dangling back his eyes. The lanky teenager sat awkwardly across from the cartomancer, doubting not only her veracity but that a term like destiny could even apply to someone like him.

Like many children who’re so profoundly blessed to grow up in a home of unconditional love, Luis had no idea that Rafael and Malia given him a protection rarer than talismans, weirds, or wards. Rafael had come to this country for a better life, and Malia had wanted a home that was safer then the hell she’d left. Together they’d given both dreams to their children, so Luis and his siblings would never have to go through what they had.

The freckled face that lifted to Morgan’s was innocent of hate, abuse, or fear of abandonment. Even in following a strange woman into a shrouded back room, it’d never occurred to Luis to worry about anything more sinister than carnival charlantry.

“So uh...like this ma’am,” Luis asked as he placed some cards face down on the table.

It was this very innocence in Louis that dulled the edge off Morgan’s guilt. It was wrong (if wrong was a real concept) to spoil something pure, but if she was really the worst thing that was going to happen to this kid in his teenage years, he was pretty darn lucky. At least he was getting some introspection out of the deal. Could he have gotten a tarot deck from the discount bookstore two blocks over for a quarter of what she was going to charge him, or thought everything out on his own for free? Yes. But he was also some bushy tailed high school kid; could happen wasn’t the same thing as would happen.

She’d had more instructions to give, some arbitrary waving of hands and maybe some visualization in what one of her co-workers called her ‘yoga voice’, but Louis, in his eagerness, had taken more than the requisite three cards she had planned on, wich just meant she had a ready-made excuse for the forty dollars she was going to take from him. “My, my, aren’t we eager?” She said. “What’s interesting to me already is that you have intuitively drawn out one of the more complex and energy taxing card spreads. Imperfectly, but--” She straightened them out at random until they made more of a geometric pattern. “See? I barely did anything at all. These cards must really like you. I don’t normally do something this involved, but it looks like there’s something here that wants to come out, and I’m not in the business of stifling anyone’s growth or energy.”

Morgan flipped the first card over to reveal The Fool and managed to keep her laughter light and soft. “Well, even if I hadn’t been doing this for so long, this is you, where you are right now. Don’t take the title personally, these are antiquated terms. He’s just young, and at the start of a great journey, not even begun, just on the precipice. He’s got his whole life ahead of him, and the sun, see? It’s shining on him to show that the universe is aligned with his desires. The world wants you to support you, wants to see you succeed.”

The second card. The Tower. Morgan’s eyes widened. Not really vibing with the story she’d been telling, but maybe the one after… Eight of Cups. Morgan flipped over the last ones. Death and The Moon. “Hmm...Fascinating...” Morgan said, stalling for a way to spin this. “The thing about the major arcana is the magnitude of forces. Forces like destiny and fate and the collective consciousness. These forces are bigger than a ten minute fight with your friends or what you want to do after graduation, these are ‘beyond your control’. And you have four. The universe really does have plans for you, that’s kind of exciting, right?” She smiled, hoping to get some confirmation from him, or at least some more of his trust. “What does your intuition tell you about this journey, honey?”

Morgan’s performative coaxing elicited a dubious look, but the striking illustrations of the Tarot drew Luis’ attention regardless. The fool was poised with one foot over the cliff, smiling blissfully as the sun warmed his back. The tower’s blackened crenellations tumbled down the cliffside as the once indomitable edifice was battered into ruins by a storm. A haggard traveler slumped down in relief on a river bank as eight golden chalice stood resplendent over the churning rapids. Death rode on its pale horse, a scythe clutched in one skeletal hand while offering an exquisitely detailed rose. The Moon slept in the sky above a verdant shore. Wolves howled in its light while pelagic creatures breached on the lunar tide.

“Woah that art on these is something else,” admitted Luis as he squinted at the intricate illuminations, clearly sensitive to aesthetics but not the higher esoteric meaning.

Unfortunately intuition is only as good as the experiences which inform it and Luis Martinez had been sheltered from the world’s cruelty. It was a blessing to be sure, but it also made Luis unable to imagine that evil doesn’t need consent to claim you.

“My intuition is uh,” floundered the young man who had about as much affinity for divination as the average block of cedar. “The ranch’ll catch on fire, maybe a relative will die, but we’ll find like eight things that’ll make it better before the next full moon,” Luis posited.

Morgan’s stomach rumbled as the boy ogled the artwork on the cards. She was tempted to commend the kid on his ‘uncanny insight’ into the realm of the divine and take her money and run down the street for a hot stack of tacos. But the kid was so bright eyed and easily awed. She felt like she owed him at least some of her knowledge, even if she thought the tarot was psychological self-talk at best.

“Fortunately for your relatives, nothing here is quite that literal,” she said, laughing warmly. “But this journey you’re on, both within and without, is going to be perilous.” Perilous to the point of being seriously dangerous and traumatic, if this really was his subconscious sensing something on the horizon. But that wasn’t something she was going to say to his face. She wanted money without having to lie to her mother about where it came from later. “Even though your desires are upheld by the earth and stars, there will come a time when it feels as though you’ve been cast out and lost everything. But the key to staying your course is to…” What was a precious uplift-y way to spin this? “Hold fast to your sense of self. Remember the core of who you are and what you want. Because, if you do, then you will survive the upheavals, and you will be able to choose wisely what to keep, what to leave behind, and end up so strong, it’ll feel like you’ve been resurrected and leveled up into a new, better, cooler version of yourself!” She had no idea how to make sense of the moon card in a positive five star customer service rating sort of way, so she moved it underneath the spread, smiling like this had been her master plan all along.

“This card with the moon and the wolves isn’t your endgame, it’s an indicator of the vehicle, the thing that encompases the whole. All this massive change ahead of you isn’t necessarily going to be visible to everyone. It comes from within, sometimes hidden, like how you can only see the stars when it’s dark out and most of the world is asleep, and wolves howl when the world is in shadows. It’s like that. And it’s going to be amazing.”

Morgan checked her watch and slumped back in her chair as if she were exhausted. Not a hard thing to do when it was this hot out. “So, that’s gonna be forty dollars for the energy and the insight. Technically, with how many cards you pulled, it should be a little more, but I can tell you’re taking a risk on something new here and I want to honor that. But we can keep going if you have any more questions!”

“Vehicle huh...not sure dad’s gonna let me spraypaint moons and wolves on the truck,” Luis mused, perhaps taking the ‘vehicle’ thing a bit too literally or not wanting to think too hard about the possibility of his life changing.

Luis looked over the intricately illustrated cards, eyebrows wrinkling as he tried to parse through the profound chicanery Morgan had spouted. A bite of the lower lip hinted that Luis had never really encountered those who could appear to say everything while stating nothing particularly specific.

“Well shiiiii..,” the teenager breathed before glancing up at Morgan and catching himself with a small hssk of inhalation, as if some inner parental voice had scolded him about cursing in front of a lady. “That was pretty cool,” he amended, clearly at a loss before everything he’d been told, too polite to claim he didn’t believe any of it, but also too much a child of modernity to heed the weird feeling in his gut that recognized something...hit different...about this chance prophecy.

Luis grinned bashfully and unknowingly let fate’s final warning pass him by.

“Forty bucks huh, I’ll havta explain that somehow,” the young man noted with the mild consternation of someone blessed enough to just worry about a family member who’d be more peeved about gas money going to “fortuneteller” then the actual cash itself.

The bills slid across the table after some awkward wallet-riffling. “Thank you ma’am.”

Morgan snatched up the bills and shoved them down her shirt before the kid could change his mind. Whatever ominous feelings his subconscious were trying to air out was no concern for her. She had too many problems of her own to bother with anyone else’s. “It takes a long time to read the cards,” she drawled smugly. “And lots of energy, to open oneself and reach beyond the veil.” She waved her fingers as if to say tootles, and went back to fanning herself until he was gone.

She helped a lady find some yarrow and made up a policy about consultation fees to get another $10 in her pocket. She was using her agency to bridge the gap between minimum shop girl wage and living wage, working her will to get the right kind of energy flowing her way. Mostly, the energy of not-starving and not invoking the ire of darkness from using alchemy to get ahead. It didn’t line up with the rest of what she understood, neutral magic forces should be lining up to help her right her cosmic access and be less chronically miserable, but that was a problem to untangle another day.

At the end of her shift, Morgan shuffled the cards once again and lined them up on the cleansing plate the shopkeeper wanted the used decks put on. By chance, or so she told herself, she picked up the topmost card to see what was there for her. But it was just the death card, and Morgan knew the last thing that was gonna happen to her life was a hard reset. She stuck it back in the middle of the deck and slipped away into the long shadows that marked the summer evening.

#flashback friday #wr luis #wr chatzy #wr luis chatzy

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years ago

Text

chapter twenty-eight: alex’s nineteenth birthday

It took Sam a few moments to realize that she was no longer back in her apartment, but at the new place in Hell's Kitchen. But she had found her way back to that safe place, even if the surroundings had changed to of great extent. She shook her head to rid of her dream world and she placed the journal down on the table before her.

Marla had slept through the throes of jet lag for what felt like forever, and swift phone call back to Jon and Marsha's place allowed her to figure things out from then onward as the summer days dwindled down to autumn there in New York. Indeed, Anthrax themselves would make their grandiose return to the United States in no time once another trio of dates wrapped up for them. A full four weeks off and they would make the flight back to Europe for a fuller stint of the tour, and albeit one that would last them all the way to Christmas. It almost felt as though Jon was making it up as he went along but she had to take his word for it, especially given the shakiness of the music world, and especially since Aurora and Emile hadn't returned to New York City themselves.

Her best friend had gone off with her new groom and in turn left her there at the altar herself. She sat there on a stool next to the phone on the wall and she listened to Jon talk about things there at the label. Marla still hadn't woken up and Zelda had long left the apartment to deal with her own affairs with the Cherry Suicides: the latter of whom did, however, leave her duct taped boots there at the apartment, right next to the coffee table. There was that vase there at the far end, right where Sam had been laying, and she yearned for those yellow tulips once again. Sam cleared her throat but she never said anything while she listened and hung onto every word.

She had to do so: she was the most important person there at the label at the moment next to Jon.

“Besides, Alex's birthday is coming up here in a few weeks time,” he added at one point, and that coaxed a smile out of Sam.

“He'll be nineteen now! Still just a hatchling.”

Jon chuckled at that, but Sam was serious upon saying that. Alex still was a young boy about to make his transition into manhood. A nineteen year old kid who had already put out an album and yet she still struggled to make her way through the art world. There had to be an opening of sorts, something that could potentially free her from the whole tedium of going to school and going back home. It wasn't just the change in surroundings, but rather there had to be an escape out of there somehow.

Something to move her away from it all, even if it was just for a little bit, even as she and Jon bode their goodbyes and she hung up the phone.

The thrill and rush of being on tour had something to do with it. Being out in the world at large. All the world was a stage after all. She had that itch she couldn't seem to scratch once again, and the first day of school had to prove to be something more for her lest she find herself bounding off of the walls of Hell's Kitchen once more.

She strode back out of the kitchen so as to fetch her journal. So much drawing in such a short amount of time, and she remembered that school was about to start off a brand new quarter and ultimately a brand new year within a few days time.

She returned to those three drawings that happened as if they each were a hallucination. Something that came forth from another part of her mind, a place that no one knew about before. But she had to keep it under wraps for the time being, for the time in which she had right there at that very moment, that precise moment in time, the very present. At some point, Joey needed to know how she felt about him, and if it had to take her utmost intimate pieces of art to do such a thing then she was willing to undertake that task.

Marla needn’t know about them, not until there came a time in which she had to talk about them for real. But then again, she had her privacy at her fingertips, the precious bit of privacy all to herself. She had her mind’s eye fixed on the three men among the pages of that journal, the three men whom everyone knew but also didn’t know at the same time.

A knock at the door caught her attention and thus jarred her back down to earth once again. She closed the journal and clambered to her feet. Lucky for her, Genie had curled up with Marla in the bed down the hall. Sam recognized that head of blonde hair down past the shoulders now tied up tight in a snug ponytail upon her head coupled with the doll-like features.

“Oh, hi, Bel,” she greeted her.

“Hey! Is Marla up?”

“Nah, she's been out like a light for the last day and a half. I think she got up once after you left the morning after. What’s going on?”

“A little bird told me that it’s about to be someone’s birthday soon,” she replied in singsong voice. “A certain boy who happens to play guitar in the only five piece band for miles.”

“Let me guess,” Sam started as she let her into the apartment, “Jon told you.”

“I won’t tell,” Belinda giggled, and then she shut the door behind her, and she turned towards Sam with her eyebrows knitted together.

“She got up once after I left,” Belinda echoed her. “Only once.”

“Yeah, Marla’s just been wiped out lately because of the damn jet lag,” Sam answered, and she tucked her hands into her shorts pockets. “I've been sleeping well, though.”

“I have, too—wow.”

“So what'd you have in mind for little Mr. Alexander?” Sam took her seat on the arm of the couch closest to the door.

“Well, I was thinking that—since he's a guitar player—maybe you and I can look into playing around with leather and make him a new strap?”

“Ooh, yeah! Like you can craft out the leather and I can paint on designs and whatnot on there. That's a great idea, Bel!”

“We'll have to do some reading, of course, but it's definitely something I've thought about in the past. Getting into leather work. It's just something that fascinates me.”

“It sounds fascinating—like glass work.”

“Well, since Marla isn't up, I'm thinking maybe you and I can go over to the book shop up the block here and find something about that.”

“I'll take it,” said Sam as she reached for her purse on the hook behind her. “Totally nice day for a walk, anyways.”

“Right?”

Without another word, the two of them headed outside to the hazy gray afternoon and they made their way up the block to the book shop in question. Sam thought about that one place that she and Cliff had gone to down by L'Amour all the while, even as she and Belinda looked up the books in the crafting section, tucked back in the far corner of that main room. She gazed on at the beading books and the paper crafts, and she thought about Joey all the while: on the front covers, those beads arranged in all those arrows and points made her think of Native American baskets.

And then she remembered that Joey's birthday was coming up as well, exactly two weeks after Alex.

“Hey, Bel, you wanna do something for Joey's birthday?” she asked her.

“Sure!” Belinda then turned her attention to her from a book she had swiped from the shelves. “What'd you have in mind?”

“Something Native American related. You know, the whole leather work guitar strap thing but with something that's faithful to his heritage, though.”

“Okay—well, I'm reading this here and it's rather easy to figure out. It's getting my paws on a leather work kit is the real bitch about it, though. This thing here says a single hundred piece kit is almost fifty bucks.”

“It's worth it, though,” Sam pointed out.

“Absolutely. I think there is in fact a place for that—up the block here. Where I can get a couple of strips of nice leather for those two boys and just buckle down with the tools. I think you can get paints there, too.”

Indeed, the two of them headed back out, complete with Belinda buying that craft book as well, and then they further headed up the street to that craft shop in question. Just a walk along that sidewalk made Sam wonder about her own desires to break free of it all in favor of a change of pace. She peered up at the buildings that lined the streets and the hazy sun overhead. It was in fact home to her after all.

“I literally love how we can go just about anywhere here in New York,” Sam remarked as Belinda held the door for her.

“Right? Everything we want and need—right nearby. We can either walk there, or hitch a ride on the bus or the subway. We can give it all what for even if we can't find what we're looking for with these two boys.”

“I'm gonna give you what for if you don't wrap it up in paper,” Sam teased her, and Belinda chuckled at that as they stepped inside the craft shop: rows of shelves stood before them, underneath a series of soft fluorescent lights, and Sam was greeted by the fresh smell of new tools right there in their face.

“How 'bout you wrap the whole entire thing up in paper with a little bow on top?” she retorted back. Sam then stopped right in her tracks, and she took a glimpse over at Belinda and the mischievous look on her face.

“When you say 'entire thing',” Sam began in a soft voice even with no one else in that shop there with them, “do you mean his dick or his guitar?”

“Both,” Belinda replied without a shred of irony or hesitation.

“So you want me to wrap up his dick and his guitar in paper?” Sam asked her with a straight face.

“Yes? Yes.”

“Who're we talkin' about?”

Belinda nibbled on her bottom lip, but she never said anything. Instead, she lunged forward to the row of metal shelves right in front of them.

“Bel, who're we talking about?” Sam asked her again as she adjusted the strap of her purse, but Belinda paid more attention to the leather kits in front of her face.

“We's talkin' 'bout leather, baby,” she said as she took off the first one right over her head. She then turned to the spools of leather on the far side of the room.

“What color do you think they'd like?” she asked Sam.

“I'm feeling black with Joey and—creamy white for Alex. By the way, you didn't answer my question.”

“What question's that?”

“Who were we talking about back there?”

Belinda pursed her lips together and she never said anything as she picked up two small spools of black and white leather for the guitar straps in question. She then led Sam back to the front of the shop, past the single file of paints for the leather in question.

“We's talkin' 'bout leather,” she repeated again. “By the way, that book said that black can hold just about any color while off white leather looks best with jewel tones.”

“Yes, but—who are we talking about?” Sam corrected her as she picked out a quartet of bottles, one scarlet red, one solid black, one pure white, and one sapphire blue. And Belinda still never replied to her as she doubled back to the register and she paid for it right there. Sam shook her head the whole entire time she put down the money and tucked her wallet back into her purse.

Belinda carried the leather kit and the pieces of leather under her left arm, and Sam volunteered to carry something for her.

“I got it, I got it—by the way, I was talking about both of them.” She raised her eyebrows at Sam, who then looked on at her with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Talking about both of them,” she echoed her over the noise of the street.

“Yeah. Sam, Alex is of age now. You can do whatever the hell you want with him now.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But what?”

“I do not like the way you said the word 'but' just now.”

“Thinking about Alex's butt?” Belinda teased her as she adjusted the kit and the bag of leather with her free arm, and she gave her blonde ponytail a little toss back.

“Pfff, you wish,” Sam scoffed; she felt her face growing warm with embarrassment, or the warmth of the late summer sun.

“What, you don't think he has a cute butt?”

“I haven't looked.”

“Well, next time you see him—like at the party that they're throwing for him—you oughta have a look. Libra boys have nice rear ends—at least so I'm told.”

“Nice and round, I assume?”

“Maybe,” Belinda replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

Within time, they returned to the apartment and Marla still hadn't woken up yet.

“Well, let's see,” Belinda started once she had set everything down on the kitchen table. Sam took her seat next to her, and she gave her blonde hair another toss back even though she had no need to do so from the tautness of her ponytail. “—the leather has already been treated... I'm gonna have to cut these so they resemble to guitar straps. I'm gonna need you to help me. Even though it's gonna be a bit before their birthdays, and Joey's birthday in particular, I'm glad we're getting a head start on this.”

“I am, too!” Sam declared.

“Lucky for us, we have these special scissors just for cutting leather—do you know how tall they are?”

“Joey and Alex? Joey is about middle height, like I can look at him right in the eye.”

“How tall are you?”

“Five foot seven. I'm thinking he's five foot nine?”

“Okay. What about Alex?”

“He's a big boy, I know that much. I kinda have to look up at him. And I've seen him next to Chuck, who's pretty tall in his own rite—and I've seen him next to Joey, too.”

“And how tall is he in comparison to Joey?”

“He's taller. By how much, I don't really know, to be honest. But I know he's taller.”

“Okay—I'll see what I can do.”

Indeed, Sam watched her go forth with the leather scissors and the measuring tape and the pencil for two guitar straps.

“If nothing, I can make Alex's a two piece and I can find a buckle,” Belinda told her.

“Hmmm...” But Sam never went any further than that. Instead, she watched Belinda spread out the leather, twin black and white stripes before them on the wood. She picked up the pencil yet again, that time to sketch out the designs on the upside of the leather.

“Okay, so let's figure this part here will be on Joey's shoulder... and this part here will be on Alex's shoulder...”

She sketched out the ever so faint sketch of a bouquet of roses for Joey's strap, and then a cluster of something that resembled to tulips on Alex's strap. Sam looked over at the bottles of paint next to her: on one hand, she was glad that she hadn't picked out yellow for Alex's white leather. But then again, the very sight of those tulips made her think back to those drawings in her journal. Two pieces for a strap for Alex, which meant one of them had to find a buckle for it: Belinda sewed the ends of those off in place for a buckle, and then with the pick, she poked three holes into the larger part for the adjustment.

And within time, she took the awl and the hammer and began work inside of those lines.

She took her time in engraving into the black leather and then the white leather, but Sam didn't mind in the least. They were making something together for the two birthday boys. She propped up her chin inside of the palm of her hand as she watched Belinda ever so gingerly carve into the leather with that fine chisel tip, complete with a tap of the hammer head. The little continuous clink! that came out of the hammer's head didn't bother her in the least. The petals of the flowers all came to fruition even without a full color scheme: indeed, Belinda added a few more spirals and dots on Joey's leather for a more of a Native American look. She also added something that resembled to a Day of the Dead skull on both of their straps: the skull on Alex's strap had a flower tucked right behind it.

It took her most of the afternoon to completely fill out the engraving on the sketches on both straps of leather, but she managed to do it right there, right before Sam's eyes. A bit of work, for sure, but she could make it work.

“Gonna have to run a thread through these first,” Belinda said once she set the awl and the hammer down. “So they don't come unraveled and whatnot...”

The big fat needle and the thick thread. Even more time and at that point, the straps were stitched and engraved, and lay there in anticipation for the head of a paint brush.

“Okay, you ready?” Belinda asked her.

“Lemme get my fine tipped brush...” Sam doubled back to her room for that fine tipped paint brush in question, and she returned with that plus a wash basin for the paints. Careful not to get any extraneous paint on the nice leather, she kept her hand right over the engravings for Joey's guitar strap.

“Red and white roses,” Belinda muttered as the paint collected at the deepest parts of the engravings.

“And red and white roses,” Sam added as she added a kiss of white on the otherwise red petals in the center piece of the bouquet. The colors bled for a second before they dried out right there. “Red and black tulips for Mr. Skolnick—”

“And white and blue sugar skulls, too, I presume,” said Belinda.

“White and blue for Mr. Belladonna—black and blue for Mr. Skolnick—”

Within time, Sam had painted the leather and the sun had set over Hell's Kitchen. It made sense that the flowers would be in bloom and the sugar skulls would have their full color right there. Sam held the leather back on the table so they could have a better look at them.

“Beautiful,” Belinda remarked. “They're just... they're gonna love these.”

“Too bad we don't have a leather working class at the school,” Sam said, “I actually kinda like this.”

“I do, too! We can suggest it when school starts, though.”

The two of them leaned back in their seats and looked on at the leather before them.

“I'm kinda hungry, you want something to eat?” Belinda asked her.

“Yes please. I gotta feed Genie, anyways.”

* * * * *

School had started for the two of them as well as Marla in what felt like no time, and Sam wondered what exactly Bill had in store for her as she signed up for an appointment with him at one point in the future. Just so long as it didn't involve her working with something tedious like any of those general education classes: she was already taking three of those that term, and in turn less time to focus on the crux of her art degree. Marla assured her that it wouldn't be anything too serious, but then again, she herself had her focus firmly on her own senior project.

Meanwhile, Sam and Belinda had the leather straps placed in boxes and then wrapped up for Alex and Joey's birthdays in the coming days. For the first week of school, she had her eye on the daunting task of junior year of college and preparing for her even more daunting senior year, but she also had those two young men on her mind. She hoped that Joey would love his new guitar strap in particular: indeed, she thought of Alex's words about how he held his guitar during the shows of that North American stint. She knew that she kept it just between herself and him, but something in the back of her mind made her consider if Joey would question the length of it.

In the meantime, for the first two weeks of school and before Alex's birthday, Sam put in her final hours at the label before they were bought out. She had no idea what Aurora was going to do afterwards, and she sure as anything had no idea what she was to do with it, especially when school finished out for her. She and Belinda came to their spot up the street after school the last Friday afternoon of the month, and Aurora greeted them both a smile on her face, much to their surprise.

“What's going on?” Sam asked her as she put her arms around her.

“I'm pregnant for real now,” Aurora told her, to which the two of them gaped at her.

“Seriously,” the former blurted out. “Like, you're not messing with us right now.” And Aurora shook her head.

“Osegueda can relax now, I s'pose?” Belinda joked.

“Yes, he can!” Aurora proclaimed.

“When did you find out?” Sam asked her.

“Just a couple of nights ago. I was gonna call you, Sam, but I guess you and Marla have your work cut out for you this year.”

“Hell yeah, we do—especially me.”

“Anyways, I felt weird, like internally, and so I went out for a test.” Aurora set her hand on the lower part of her belly. “Bun in the oven, ladies.”

“Please don't drink at Alex's party next week,” Sam pleaded her.

“He'll be nineteen, so there's not going to be any alcohol there,” Aurora assured her, “and even if there was, I've got Emile to check on me for that.”

“By the way, where's his party even gonna be?” Belinda asked.

“The Zazulas' place. I'll come get you guys if you wish.”

Given Alex's nineteenth birthday took place on a Tuesday, Sam, Marla, and Belinda all had to hustle out of school following their last classes of that day. But Aurora and Emile waited them there at the curb in their car: a packed caravan en route to the Zazulas' house at the far side of town. At one point, Belinda turned to Sam with a twinkle in her eye.

“You got the—” Sam then took out the square package enveloped in pearly white wrapping paper and with a black bow on top from her hand bag.

“Right here.”

“You guys found a buckle for that thing?” Marla asked them.

“Beautiful platinum buckle—brand new, never been used,” Belinda told her, and she never went any further than that, which led Sam to assume that she found it in the garbage somewhere. The guys from Testament were all there, as were Scott and Charlie, and James and Kirk. Sam chuckled at the memory of Lars in the kitchen the first time she and Joey went there together as she held her and Belinda's gift to Alex underneath her arm.

Aurora and Emile made their way to the other side of the house, while Sam and Belinda took to that kitchen door. Alex himself stood at the far edge of the house with a brown glass bottle in one hand: he and Greg were talking about something.

He almost didn't look the same with those tight leather pants. The black curls dangled about his shoulders like the ears of a dog: his hands pressed to his slender but shapely hips didn't help matters, either. She pictured Alex strutting along like he meant it, with that black hair splayed all around his head, and that plume of silver strong and high like a lightning bolt.

It was right there that Sam wanted him, and she wanted to see him naked for real. To see him and Joey both naked.

He had passed the right age after all: she could dream about him the way in which Belinda had joked about before.

A teenage kid about to bid his teen years farewell, and he stared back at her from across the room. Even though he was still underage, he held that empty brown bottle in one hand.

She nibbled on her bottom lip at the sight of him but then she and Belinda bowed into the house together.

They were greeted by the warm aroma of freshly baked cake in the kitchen and a small cluster of presents on the table.

“Aw, just a little party,” Marla was saying as she signed the birthday card to him with a bright red pen.

“That's really all he wanted,” Chuck told her. “Party with us, and then he's going upstate with his parents and his brother tonight. Gonna be up there for the rest of the week after this.”

“Quick little party with us and then his parents are taking him out to dinner right afterwards,” Eric called from the next room over.

“Yeah, that's it.”

Sam then turned her head and she realized that Alex and Greg were a few feet away from there. She could walk past the back door and have a better look at them, but there had to be a reason behind it. Chuck handed Belinda the card for a signing; the aroma of the cake was almost intoxicating, as if it was right there and ready to slice into for all of them. Sam then had an idea.

“I'll be right back,” she told Belinda with a raise of her finger, and she nodded in response to that. She bowed out of the kitchen and towards the back door, which hung right open for the stubborn warmth of the Indian summer.

She could walk by and make it look as though she was going to the bathroom or going to ask Marsha a question. Indeed, Sam strode on by so she could have a better look at the bottle in Alex's hand; he had turned to the side so it hung there right by his hip. It was sarsaparilla.

That also gave her a chance to look at the curvature of his thighs, albeit for a few seconds. She couldn't believe she had done that, either, given she already had a boyfriend. She had a boyfriend and he couldn't be there, and she couldn't tell him about it, either. She shook her head as she doubled back in the next room over and back to the kitchen to sign the card and to speak to Belinda. Lucky for her, Chuck had left the room so she stood there alone with her eye on the tags on each of the presents upon the table. Sam strode up to her with the warmth still fresh in her face.

“I need you to slap me across the face,” she said to her.

“Why?” Belinda laughed.

“I’m having—thoughts,” she stammered, even though they were alone in the room.

“Having what?”

“Thoughts. About… both Joey and Alex.”

“Like… what do you mean?”

Sam leaned in closer to her face and hunched her shoulders a bit.

“Thoughts,” she breathed right into her ear. Belinda looked on at her with a bewildered expression plastered on her face, and then her eyes lit up.

“Really? Sam, you little vixen! I knew you had it in you!”

“Yeah, but—Joey's kinda my boyfriend, though.”

“So? Just 'cause you got a boyfriend doesn't mean you have to restrain yourself to him. Live and let live a little.”

She sighed through her nose. Maybe Belinda had a point as she wrote “happy 19th birthday, Alex—with love, Samantha” at the bottom right corner of the card. Nothing fancy, nothing more, nothing less. She hoped that something would in fact happen that evening as she made her way back towards the front door for a bit of fresh air.

She recognized Frank's lush dark hair as he all but stumbled in through the front door.

“Easy there, big fella!” she declared to him, and he burst out laughing at that. She turned to the side and she almost ran into something slender but soft.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted Joey, much to her surprise.

“Hi,” he returned the favor and showed her a grin all the while.

“I didn't think you'd be here,” she confessed.

“I ain't turning down free food, y'know,” he told her.

“Okay, that makes sense.”

Joey peered over his shoulder for a second, and then he returned to her.

“I've been thinking of your lips lately,” he confessed to her in a husky voice.

“It's funny, I, uh—I have been, too,” she said. He lowered his gaze to her mouth and he moved in closer to her.

“Um—Bel and I made something for you—for your birthday coming up here,” she sputtered.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, you just—you just might like it.”

He showed her a little smirk: and she brought her eyes back down to those dark lips. She needed to kiss them. She needed to do something right there lest something happen there in the house that would wedge them apart. She closed her eyes and she leaned in closer to his face.

“Sam?” Marla called her. She opened her eyes and she stared on at Joey's face: his brown eyes gazed back at her, as rich and full as the earth underneath them.

“You're being paged,” he whispered to her. She turned around right as Marla emerged from the kitchen.

“Could you get Marsha, please? She's in the back of the house.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sam returned to Joey, who still showed her that smirk on his face.

“I'll be right back,” she vowed to him.

“I'll be waitin' for ya,” he vowed back to her, complete with a wink. She rounded him and headed towards the back of the house. She was about to head into that corridor there when the back door swung open before her. Greg bowed in first, and then Alex followed suit. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him.

“Hi—what're you doing?” he asked her with a grave look on his face.

“Oh, just—talking with Joey and now I'm getting Marsha.”

“Oh, I see.” He never changed his expression for a second, but she knew what he was thinking. She dropped her gaze to those lips and then to his neck and that prominent Adam's apple. She brought her attention only to his face instead and the puzzled expression there.

“Are—you alright?” he stammered.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just—I just—'scuse me—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured her with a puzzled look on his face. She bowed into the back room there, where Marsha looked over something on the desk. She raised her gaze to Sam.

“Marla wants you in the kitchen,” she told Marsha.

“Cake's probably ready,” she replied to her with a twinkle in her eye.

Sam nodded and then she returned to the hallway, where Alex had gone off to somewhere else in the house. Indeed, she headed over to the back door, where Aurora was about to take her seat on the step there. It was almost too much to bear right there. She needed to get out of that house because the thought of Joey and Alex getting into it at the latter's birthday party was almost too much to bear for her.

“I need you to cover me,” Sam quipped, and Aurora looked on at her, stunned.

“Cover you in what?”

“No, cover for me,” she corrected her.

“Yeah, cover you in what?”

“Aurora!”

“What?”

“Cover for me. Keep people busy. If they ask about me, tell them that I had to run next door real quick.”

“Why would I say that?”

“Because you’re my best friend.”

“Well, yeah, but really why would I lie to people about where you went?”

“I thought you were only a few weeks pregnant?”

“I am! But what’s that got to do with it?”

“Ugh, never mind.” But before Sam could do anything more, Marsha surfaced from the room there and she gestured for Sam to follow her into the kitchen. Indeed, she helped Marsha decorate the long rectangular sheet cake, in particular the “happy 19th birthday, Alex” right in the middle with the royal blue icing.

“Dunno if Zelda's going to be here,” Marsha confessed to her as she finished the piping of the roses at each of the corners, “she said she probably won't make it because I guess the girls are hard at work right now in the studio—but let's get this sweet little party started, though.”

Sam struck the match and lit the wicks of the candles.

Alex had taken his seat at the head of the dining room table with a small white party hat atop his head: the little sliver of gray poked out from underneath the edge, and his face turned a soft pink with being put on the spot as Marsha set the cake down before him.

“What do you wish for more than anything in the world?” Louie asked him, and Alex turned his gaze to Sam at his right. He squinted his eyes at her, but he never said anything. He then leaned forward and blew out the candles in a single breath. The wisps of smoke faded into nothing before their faces as Belinda and Scott both clapped their hands in unison. He offered to slice the cake but Marsha insisted.

She handed him the first slice of vanilla and raspberry cake, and then everyone else followed suit.

“Wanna open your presents, young man?” Jon called from the far side of the room.

“Yes please,” Alex called back, “my parents are gonna wanna know what they got themselves into here...” His voice trailed off. Sam watched him dig into his cake, small bite after small bite. He ate slowly: indeed, she found herself doing the same thing. It was delicious cake after all. But she wondered what he had wished for before he blew out the candles.

Granted, if he talked about it, then it wouldn't come true. But it still made her curious nonetheless.

Jon handed him Chuck, Eric, and Frankie's gifts first, followed by that small square black and white box. The first thing he did before opening each of them was put the bows on his chest. He read the labels carefully right before hand as well, and he was careful to unwrap them as well with a sliding of his fingers under where the paper ended and the tape started, and so he peeled the paper off as opposed to tearing it apart. A new tuner from Chuck and Eric both, a Gary Moore shirt from Greg and Louie both which warranted a look of surprise from him.

“Wow, where'd you guys get this?” he asked Greg.

“Thrift shop. Lou found it when he and I were looking for new boots for ourselves, and I was like, 'dude, yes! He loves Moore!' So I got that for a nickel.” He neatly folded the shirt and placed it on the table next to him, and then he turned to that square box.

“From Samantha and Belinda,” he stated, and he opened the box.

“Miss Shelley and Miss Grimes,” Jon followed up as he headed back into the kitchen once more.

And Alex's face lit up at the sight before him there.

“Oh, wow!” He held it out from the box, and he looked on at that clean creamy white leather with his mouth agape.

“What is it, a belt?” Scott asked them.

“A guitar strap!” Sam corrected him. “A little bit of leather work from both me and Bel here.”

“This is gorgeous!” he declared as he held the strap before him and his eyes caressed over the design of the tulips and the sugar skulls. “Oh, and it's adjustable, too! This is absolutely beautiful, ladies—thank you!” Sam put her arms around him first, and then Belinda followed suit. He had a slender little body and yet he was as soft as childhood.

“Got our work cut out for us now,” Charlie confessed to Scott in a not so low voice.

“I know, right?” Scott retorted with his eyes squinted.

But Alex was more than happy to have it all around him for the time being, especially by the time Aurora took a step next to him.

“Now, I hate to draw the spotlight away from the birthday boy here,” she began, “but I wanted to tell you all that Emile and I are pregnant.”

“Aw!” Marsha called from the kitchen.

“We thought we were when we were over in England last month, but—it's official now!”

“Start of a new chapter in life and the start of a new life,” Scott declared as he raised his glass to them, but then again, Alex bowed his head a bit at that. Today was his day after all, and for Sam, that was oddly selfish of Aurora to do that to him. This was the second thing she had done that seemed so unlike her, at least for as long as Sam had known her. Thus she reached her hand towards him, just as Aurora began conversing with Marsha, Emile, and Scott about something.

“Happy birthday, though, Alex,” she told him as he took a sip of his sarsaparilla.

“Thank you,” he replied to her with a serious look on his face, “and yeah, thank you, everyone!” That warm blush returned upon his saying that. “When I'm done with my cake and my drink, I'm gonna call my dad and tell him that life is good right now.”

Indeed, he turned his attention back to Sam for a moment.

“And I go upstate for a whole week.” When he said that, he glanced across the table for a second. She followed his gaze and there was Joey at the far end. She sat closer to Alex than she was her own boyfriend; she then climbed to her feet and she strode on over to him as he finished the rest of his cake.

“Hi,” she greeted him, and he brought a napkin to his lips. Chuck burst out laughing at something and thus he moved his head in closer to her.

“Wanna do sump'n this weekend?” he offered her in a low voice.

“Up by your place?” she asked him.

“Your place and then mine,” he corrected her.

“I'd love to,” she replied in a low voice.

“I'll pick ya up after school,” he told her as he finished the last few bites of cake. Sam wondered exactly what he had in mind as she made her way back to her spot in between Belinda and Alex for the time being.

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thelordstears · 4 years ago

Text

Oh look, more fuckin’ writing, who woulda thunk it????

"There's no heroes nor villains in this shattered mind of mine. Just phantoms that dance in my headspace and leave a haunting echo of what never was.” - Elijah Vanders

“ These fires creep up my skin and leave me horrified of all the burns I've endured, but alas, they are no scald marks of the body, but of the mind.” - Elijah Vanders

“ I miss everything I've lost, everything I used to be.” - Elijah Vanders

“ This world was never for the broken, because people condemn what they might never understand, they tell you it's all in your head, and that's the issue. It is all in my head, and I wish it wasn't, because I'd rather face reality baring my teeth to the sky and bleeding from the lip then face the things I do on the daily.” - Elijah Vanders

“ I could look up at the stars and ask them "Why oh why am I a broken vagabond of this shattered world?" And all they'd do is blink out.” - Darkin Vagabond

“ I must confess, I feel like a monster, and all I can do really is hide from myself.” - Darkin Vagabond

“ Here I am, yearning for a better tomorrow, but all I do is sink into my blankets and know, there is no better tomorrow if I don't fight for it. And so I sleep the night away, fearing what it is the day shalt bring.” - Darkin Vagabond

“ How can I run from all this pain if it's apart of me? How could I possibly escape myself?” - Darkin Vagabond

"We condemn what we do not understand, and thus, we can never learn. Perhaps if the village folk within Salem would've learned more if they had questioned the falsely accused instead of burn them at the stake, they would never howl answers, only pain.” - Ferdinand Lawlor

“ Perhaps we have damned ourselves, but oh well, this is a world damned to Hell, so what is a damned man in a world that's already on fire?” - Ferdinand Lawlor

“ I've learned Heaven is a right, and we've lost it.” - Ferdinand Lawlor

"The end of a rope can either be a saving grace or the thing that kills a man. I've been on both sides of the spectrum, swinging from the gallows of my own sin and pulled to shore by people who care to forgive me.” - Eduardo Villifex

“ I'm not a good man, anymore. I used to be, as most did, but my heart twisted black and pain is all I know these days. But not because I'm in it, because I cause it.” - Eduardo Villifex

"Dis is a long bloody road I walk, dere ain't no end fo' me, just my enemies. So beware me pale red truck and 'eart filled with a desire fo' vengeance, because on dis road dere's corpses litterin' da highway and ain't none'a em gon' be me.” - Randall Lancaster

“I went through da stages'a grief, but dey forgot ta mention da last fokin' one. Anger.” - Randall Lancaster

“ I'm cold as ice, but me 'eart burns wif'a flame so fierce it puts Hell ta shame.” - Randall Lancaster

"I'm on a stage, the audience claps and cheers, but only for my death. I swing from gallows made up of the pain I've faced, I'm choking on my past, kicking air beneath me in a desperate attempt to save myself from this noose. And yet here I am, sputtering up all this darkness in my history.” - Hermann Pastel

“ I am a man, I have never been Pinocchio, and I never needed Jipedo or the Blue fairy to make me a real boy. So oh Mister Kalarook, you are not the whale who swallowed me whole, you are no puppet master, you are a man, and thus you will bleed like one.” - Hermann Pastel

"In a town of wolves, crying wolf will only get you torn to pieces.” - Sav Gothenburg

“ I am no killer, and so I shalt not use this blade for sheep, but instead it shall remain clean until the wolf who tore into me is in front of me with his empty eyes and bloodstained smile.” - Sav Gothenburg

“ I know what he did in the dark, I know what he made in the dark, after all, he made his undoing.” - Sav Gothenburg

“ This world is not so fond of those who're different, I've watched as my father cut men and women down for defying his belief, and though I have escaped him, I have not escaped the memory, of him. I can still see his empty eyes and his bloodstained blade. I will never be whole, because the hauntings of him still plague me.” - Victoria Vaxwington

“ New York is a graveyard of those who committed the crime of being themselves.” - Victoria Vaxwington

“ I have learned sometimes angels must fall so devils no longer fly, sacrifices must be made so the enemy is put at a disadvantage that will lead to their demise in the future, but I do not play a game of chess, I do not put forth my pawns to become Queen's Gambit. I'd much rather call Stalemate then let someone who fights for me, die for me.” - Victor Da Ville

“ This world is full of devils who want to watch angels be torn from the sky on bloodied wings, and so I bare these teeth of mine and scowl at the sky, because in a world of devils, one must become the leviathan.” - Victor Da Ville

“ I am a man of justice, karma to those who have spilt innocent blood, I am a devil to all those who seek hellfire, and refuge for all who seek warmth.” - Victor Da Ville

"When you love someone so much, you know when you have to let them go. Even if only for a small while, it still pains you to do so. My darling Lizbeth, oh how it pained her to see me slink into the night with the stars, but when I returned to her, as the sun always does when it sinks, we danced under the rays of sunshine that slathered across our beautiful dance of shared love.” - Corrie Vendowoft

“ She's beautiful in all her broken pieces, we've both lead lives that left us shattered, but together we molded this glass into a wonderful puzzle that painted a picture of us, and us alone.” - Corrie Vendowoft

“ It is dangerous, to love someone so completely that you'd put your life on the line for them, but so long as I live in danger with her, I will always accept it.” - Corrie Vendowoft

"I could say my life is almost like a photograph, frame by frame I see the beauty through the lenses of love. Snapshots of this love I have force the pain out of my smile, all I know these days is a fiery passion for the woman I stride underneath the sun with, in her arms I feel so complete, so loved in a world that tried to make me hate.” - Lizbeth Samwick

“ I love Corrie, it's not just something I feel in my heart or my mind, but something that trickles down to my very soul and redefines who I am. I fought my desire for so long, I said to myself "She can't be yours, by God she can't." But when she smiled and ran a hand through my hair I knew, by God she's mine. “ - Lizbeth Samwick

“ I would dance underneath the stars with that woman, follow her to the ends of the Earth and charge into a burning building if it mean saving her.” - Lizbeth Samwick

"We yearn for an answer to existence, but I think it's a simple one. To exist is to simply breathe, but the meaning to life is to love the world, as it has always loved you.” - Sabu Thorn

“ Nature has never been sinful, everything in nature has a reason to be there, the cycle of kill or be killed is only relevant for predators, and we were never wolves.” - Sabu Thorn

“ This world was never cruel, we just blame it for it's naturalities, you can not blame a wolf for snatching it's prey, and you can not blame nature for its defense mechanisms.” - Sabu Thorn

"I find that condemning love will only condemn he who damns it. Something so Heavenly and divine could never be sinful, why damn something as beautiful and complex as love? How much hate must you hold in your heart to despise something that never had to do with you?” - Abby Malroodge

“ The only one who can change me, is me.” - Abby Malroodge

“ Where would you pull your strength from if you've never had to be strong? Where would you pull your bravery from if you never knew what it was to be scared? Ya can't truly know what it is to live without a little bit of struggle.” - Abby Malroodge

“ Life isn't awful, moments are, remember this, because it might save you when all seems lost.” - Abby Malroodge

“ We're stars, shimmering in the dead of night, so twinkle on my friend, twinkle on. The world was made for you, so shine." - Abby Malroodge

"I'm not strong because of my past, I'm strong because of my choices, I am not strong because people hurt me, I'm strong because I rose up despite what they did.” - Morgan Mittel

“ I'd rather trek forward than look back, the future is where I'm headed, so why dwell on the past?” - Morgan Mittel

"The only things that've kept me alive are hope, and myself.” - Obi Zenton

“ I've been through plen'y, can't really kill my spirit, because it's always ragin' with some sort of flame that fuels me. Love, hate, anger. All of these things keep me goin', I spose I'm a mix of different emotions that keep my heart beatin'.” - Obi Zenton

“ I'm not just gonna lie down and die quietly, I'm a fighter, a survivor, always have been, and nuffin's gonna change that, nuffin'.” - Obi Zenton

“ I've already faced the world, so what makes you think I can't face you?” - Obi Zenton

“ I look up to the Heavens and pray, "Lord, please save me, we're all damned these days, save me." But all I've been hearing is the dying cries of men fighting for no real purpose.” - Zelene Clifforde

“ We are not wolves, we're human, why don't we act as such?” - Zelene Clifforde

“Savages with bloodstained smiles haunt me.” - Zelene Clifforde

“ People just don't understand, get in the way of history, you become it.” - Richmond Venwokbridge

“ The hounds of Hell could chase me down and I'd face them with a bloodstained blade and sins painted the color red on my sleeve.” - Richmond Venwokbridge

“ I have blood on my name, I'm practically a death omen.” - Richmond Venwokbridge

“ You can't tear my roots from this wicked family tree, because they'll wrap around your throat and swing you from the gallows of my dynasty.” - Richmond Venwokbridge

“ I prayed to the Heavens that she'd come back, she had to be alive. But as I looked to the sky the only answer I ever got was clouds shifting and the sun baring down on me. My mother was my hero, and they say we mimic our heroes, so might I one day bleed like her?” - Ariella Soro

“ If God was real why would he shatter a believer such as I? I used to say Amen, I used to get on my knees and pray. But all that ever got me was the rubble of my crumbled faith asphyxiating me.” - Ariella Soro

"I've dragged buried truths from the dark into the light kicking and screaming, but who ever knew the truth had claws and would tear into me like a lion feasting on a gazelle? How was I to possibly fathom the truth ripping into me just as karma rips into those who've done wrong?” - Lana Peixoto

“ I've always brandished this heart of mine and a pen. They say the pen is mightier than the sword, so why does blood spill while I write of tragedy?” - Lana Peixoto

“This world has stabbed so many knives in my back, and somedays I wonder how I haven't bled out, but the blood trickling down my jacket blends in with the black leather. Because I suppose in a world where the truth is a crime, telling the truth makes you villainous.” - Lana Peixoto

“A man I knew once told me we're all strong in our own right, its what we do with the strength that matters. But how am I to be strong when all it ever got me was beaten into pavement and whipped with the scars of a thousand bloodstained lies?” - Alaina Crossbellow

“Fear the woman with everything left to lose, because she'll fight like hell to keep it that way.” - Alaina Crossbellow

"If love is a battlefield, I'll grab my rifle and go to war. After all, I'd do anything for the woman I love, I'd catch bullets or sling em, I'd kick ass or get my ass kicked, if you love someone, you fight for them, it's as simple as that, really.” - Rachel Vandemann

“ Isn't it beautiful, to be so masterfully intertwined with another that their heartbeat becomes a melody and their smile a song?” - Rachel Vandemann

“ I stare into bloodshot eyes, alvawys vondering how zese hands are my own, zey have spilt so much blood, vatched men go down in spurts of red from zis Tommy gun I sling over my shoulder.” - Sanders Krauss

“ Zis blood on my hands haunts me, zere iz trouble in my daydreams and vickedness in my nightmares.” - Sanders Krauss

“ I shook hands vith ze devil, vith his hatchet shimmering red under ze starless night sky.” - Sanders Krauss

"I'd rather be the final bullet in a chamber than the ones that were fired off in rage.” - Carlita Hellslinger

“ I'm not the best woman in the world, but at least I'm good enough to end you.” - Carlita Hellslinger

“ He holds my heart, this battered scarred heart is his, because I found in all my loneliness, in all my solitude, in all my anger, he loved me. He loved the ugliest parts of me, and he called them beautiful.” - Carlita Hellslinger

“ I've lived in the dark my whole life, what makes you think I don't know what lurks?” - Carlita Hellslinger

"Somedays all I can hear is the echo of my past. But I suppose the sirens of love are louder. I must confess, these scars bleed, and somedays they define me, by God do they define me. But then I remember, it's only a memory, and you have a future to live, girl, so live it.” - Sage Caesar

“ A woman showed me what it is to love, Rosie in all her beautiful strength, showed me that love is no game, there's no losers nor winners, only people in love.” - Sage Caesar

“ This world will tell you you're not worth it, you don't deserve the space you fill, but it tells lies, nasty, vile lies that poison your mind with falsehoods.” - Sage Caesar

“ Fight on, fighter, you're worth the struggle, I promise." - Sage Caesar

"I'm the scary story monsters tell their children to keep em in bed. Beware, beware, sinners of the witching hours, the Midnight Dove soars with bloodstained talons, and her prey cackles underneath a bloodstained blade.” - Elsa Todd

“ May those you've harmed whisper your deeds, may you meet me in the dead of night while my pistol is clean and my aim is true.” - Elsa Todd

“ No sinner deserves grace, so don't beg at my feet, it won't fucking save you.” - Elsa Todd

"I don't believe in normal, I don't believe in a concrete definition to humanity. Because we're all unique, in our own beautiful ways. It's ridiculous, to shackle humanity to a definition, we're all our own people, so how could we possibly define what it means to be yourself?” - Hannah

“ I'd rather be an outcast then someone I'm not.” - Hannah

“ Watchin' your own son fall from grace is tough, 'specially when you raised him ta be strong.” - Betsie Werdelstein

“ Her smile ain't like nuthin' I've ever see, I could compare her ta the sun, or a garden'a daisies and daffodils, but she weren't never just somethin' beautiful ta look at.” - Betsie Werdelstein

“ I's seen what it is, ta be so in pain, that all ya can really do is weep and hope fo' a better tomorra', but sometimes that hope is the very bullet that lodges inta your heart.” - Betsie Werdelstein

“ I could present the truth on a silver fucking platter, and people would say, "Oh how marvelous, but we prefer the lies crammed down our throats." - Marston Calinfranz

“ I must ask the question, why do people fear the truth? Lies are often sugarcoated, but dare you follow the sugar crumbs that lead to a poisoned cube of sugar? You're ants, to the powerful, being led to a poisoned demise disguised as your salvation.” - Marston Calinfranz

"They say home is where the heart is. And so my heart resides in a pitch black forest of wolves. They snarl, they howl, but to them, I am the moon.” - Haymitch Viers

“ I sympathize for the devils of this world, everyone seeks to understand them, but must realize, it is impossible. You must become him, to understand him. Walk a a thousand miles in his shoes, and see why it was that he spilt blood as if it were commonplace.” - Haymitch Viers

”A bow and arrow only draws back in preparation to fling forward. So remember, when you’re being pushed back, soon you’ll be hurtling forward at full speed.” - Cynthia Layden

“ We're all our own, beautiful in all of our uniqueness, fuck anyone who says you shouldn't be you, they don't know your mind, or your heart, so how the fuck can they judge you?” - Cynthia Layden

“ We're all our own Queens and Kings, we rule the castle of our mind and sometimes, your thoughts, the subjects, they want to swing you from the gallows, don't let them man, don't let them.” - Cynthia Layden

"In a kill or be killed world, I will never die.” - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“I made friends with my demons, they wouldn't dare bite the hand that feeds them, but to all those around them that left them starving, they have a feast.” - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“ You can not, and will not, fucking kill me.” - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“ This world was never cruel, but I am.” - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“ In life, there are no winners, no losers, just men willing to get to the end, and those who are left on the board to rot." - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“ How am I to grieve what did happen, if I always ponder, on what didn't?” - Jill Smithens

“ This heart of mine is broken, I could glug down gallons of gin an tonic, inject this poison into me, but it'll never heal my heart.” - Jill Smithens

“ I've given so many life changing advice, as a therapist I know the signs, the warnings, and what someone should do in the circumstance their mind is working against them. But if only, I could take my own advice.” - Jill Smithens

“ Ya know, they say the past is just that, but then why is it always engraved in my mind as a hieroglyphic is in a Pharaoh of old's tomb?” - Shirley Honeybadger

“ They say, to slay a monster, you too, must become one, but I believe it wouldn't be sinful if the rabbits fought back against the coyotes.” - Solstice Moone

“ I am a warrior of the sun, bounding in the pawprints of wolves with crimson claws as to follow them to their cave of slaughter, so one day they might be slain for their wickedness.” - Solstice Moone

“ We are not a bloodstained race, but history paints us as such. We waged war to gain independence, and they call us savages.” - Solstice Moone

“ Sometimes we must raise our blades, instead of our voices.” - Solstice Moone

“ I guess life isn't always gonna be perfect, because what would we do with a perfect world but ruin it?” - June Northutt

“ I spose we're all ghosts of who we were, snapshots of younger versions of ourselves, perhaps who we were is proud of who we are.” - June Northutt

“ I took Thituna's beauty and turned it into darkness, Vialdir's gifts and turned them into curses, but hail me! Hail me! I am a stature of greatness and sinful divinity!” - Destallo Starrend

“ This wicked magic, oh how dark it is, I can see it, the black glow in my veins, the dark blood that flows when I am cut in battle. But I care not, I've been corrupted, and my intention is not to turn back.” - Destallo Starrend

“ The night sky flows through my veins and the stars no longer sparkle, for they imploded and left the nebula in my ribcage.” - Destallo Starrend

“ 'Ow am I ever to know peace, if I don't know if my son, knows peace? I'm terrified of the unknown, because I have no clue what it could hold, does it perhaps hold every single truth I need ta know? Is it where my son resides, or is he in a shallow fucking grave?” - Barbara Alastair

“ I guess all I really got are my memories and the spark of a cigarette, only warmth I feel these days, is in my damn lungs, burnin' me alive from the inside. Only light I could ever reach kills me. I'm like the moth, drawn toward the flickers of fires set to burn me, but because I'm self destructive, I follow the sparks and flickers anyhow.” - Barbara Alastair

“ We have to remember, we were given life, so why not appreciate this gift we've got, huh? I'm a fixer upper, we all are, really, workin' with what we got. Our little flaws, our little quirks that make us who we are, always wonderin' if who we are is who we oughta be. But you know what? Build a castle made of of the hurt, and embrace that you survived it man, you survived it.” - Lydia Hobkins

“ This world is cruel, hellbent on breaking this soul of mine in half, but you don't break the woman with her heart on her sleeve, you don't break me, I only learn.” - Allie Jekylhead

“ This world was never meant for cruel men, people like to think we're all beasts, vying for a throne, but we're people, trying to fucking live.” - Allie Jekylhead

“ I am no barking dog, when I bark, it's a fucking warning.” - Allie Jekylhead

"I'm paralyzed by a feelin', cause all I got these days are memories that poison my bloodstream and leave me as the aftermath of Chernobyl. How am I ta be healthy, when even my heart is got damn poisoned?” - Vector Beckenheimer

“ It's hard, fearin' for the life of the woman you love cuz her mind is ill. But I guess, all I can do is fight for her, cuz she ain't never been allowed ta fight for herself.” - Vector Beckenheimer

“ Alcohol is a poison, and I'm in chronic condition these days, sippin' on poison as if it would fucking save me.” - Vector Beckenheimer

“ I'm sorry, for feeling this way. Is it perhaps demented, to be not okay? Am I a woman sinful to the core, because I have demons in my mind?” - Friella Beckenheimer

“ Life doesn't seem to treat me right, and neither does my mind.” - Friella Beckenheimer

“ My children.. I'm sorry. But I'm a bad influence, I smoke cigarettes to choke on the smoke and down pills to spit up my remaining life span.” - Friella Beckenheimer

“ I'm not much a woman, these days. Just a lost ember in the wind, and one of these days I'll snuff out. I'm the dying spark amidst ash, the last shred of a pencil used over the years and the girl no one can save, because I can't even save myself.” - Friella Beckenheimer

“ I bleed forevermore, what a shame it is, that I hold the bloodied razor and the glossy regret." - Friella Beckenheimer

“ This world is out'a fokes, but I can't be.” - Kiley Swinton

“ I've found just how demented this world is, followin' the shadows of the pine and the regrets'a the wolves. I found a cave of sinfulness, the sirens sang and beckoned me ta the ocean side where they drowned my sense of innocence, and out rose a vengeful beast by the name'a Kiley fuckin' Swinton.” - Kiley Swinton

“ Karma is fair, Karma is just, she always pays her fuckin' dues.” - Kiley Swinton

“ The birds hum, the sun rises, just not fo' me.” - Kiley Swinton

“ I used ta rule the world, at least, my own little world I could call home. But some people don't care, they'll rip the walls asunder just to reach your heart and cut it.” - Beverly Jackins

“ I've been broken, but this tiara of rust and this throne of love will never topple. My kingdom of isolation, may one day become a kingdom of two. All I need ta build an empire is my daughter, even if it's one of pillows and blankets draped over cardboard." - Beverly Jackins

“ Broken and damned, they call me. But you'd be telling the truth if you just called me, broken.” - Warren Shanaghost

“ I am a damned man in the eyes of the public, they think I tormented two young girls I knew. I'm damned if I did, damned if I didn't I suppose.” - Warren Shanaghost

“ I saw that shadowy figure, I saw that beast dressed as nothing more than a child's fantasy. What a damned creature, drunk off the light of the moon and sinning just because.” - Warren Shanaghost

“ I've done some dumb shit, sure, but haven't we all? I mean, come on, if we ain't a little wild are we really living? The answer is no, if ya were unaware. You can't just live in the boxes they've created, you gotta burst out of that box and rip it the fuck up.” - Promise Ryder

“ The world isn't against you, honestly, the world doesn't care about any of us, it's the people on Earth that do. So look around, someone loves you, someone cares. Just hold onto the little moments, cause those are the ones that really count.” - Promise Ryder

“ I've watched angels fall from blinding heights, but I went with them on burning wings, I am a circus act, forced into the cold shadows of the night.” - Jenscella Harburkens

“ Those who are different are not loved by society, they'd tie me to a stake and burn me, if they so could.” - Jenscella Harburkens

“ Psycho! They say, psycho! But I'm just a lost girl with haunted memories, why damn me when you could damn my abuser? But no, the story of the boy who cried wolf is always told, but seldom told is the tale of Jenscella, the girl who told the truth, but was never believed.” - Jenscella Harburkens

“ I'm a fool for her, I'd dance underneath a stage collapsing, or hold her hand in a battlefield.” - Zoey Shurrick

“ Just because my memories reflect pain, does not mean that is my future.” - Zoey Shurrick

“ My sister is a superhero, in my eyes. She doesn't shoot lasers from her eyes or wear a cape. She wears a suit she hates and a smile despite her past.” - Zoey Shurrick

"Way over yonder I would'a looked at my torn wings and think, by God, how far have I fallen? But now, I sit here in the tatters of my wings and realize, not every plummet ends with death.” - Connor O’Day

“ My nightmares haunt me, my sins plague me, but my love saved me.” - Connor O’Day

“ She's a soldier, and I'd say she's mine, but I think what's beautiful about her is, she's her own.” - Connor O’Day

“ I used ta be ruled by my trigger and how fast I could pull it, but nowadays, I'm defined by love, not my past, not my future. But love.” - Connor O’Day

“ So sisters, brothers and none of the above in arms, won't you join me, on this journey home? We're all so lost, and yet found by each other. We found sanctuary in each other's hearts and home in the storms of love. We are no beasts, no sinners, no saints. Just men, women and everything in-between, lookin' for a purpose on the wind, knowin' it was always family and each other." - Connor O'Day

"Life is like a painting, it gets a little messy and mistakes are made along the way, but who ever said one wrong sway of the brush ruined the piece? We're not perfect creatures, so why pretend to be?” - Jane Van Steenburg

“ I know these days sinners play as saints, but I find once you learn to differentiate the two, the wolf's smile flickers.” - Jane Van Steenburg

“ I'm a black stallion gallopin' on a path'a cobble and thorns, follow me or don't, but this world need heroes, so lets be the heroes we deserve. I don't got no cape, just my twin revolvers and some rebellious bones.” - Granville Van Steenburg

“ I got my guns, and I got my name, and I've learned that's all it takes ta survive. That and a little bit of hope.” - Granville Van Steenburg

"The sun don't shine on da soldiers, and so we learn ta accept da moon. We twist and turn, twirlin' in da moonlight in an ungraceful dance dat burns us wif' our sins. But ey, sinnin' hurts, but so does bein' da hero.” - Winfield Coleman

“Me bones are wicked, can'tcha see? I'm a cold shadow'a the man I used ta fokin' be, ever since I stepped inta the fires'a war, I knew what it was ta die, mate. You hear the story'a the boy who went ta war whole, but came out strong. But seldom told is the tale'a da soldier who walked out wif' rage in 'is eyes and a snarl on 'is lip. War is Hell, dey say, but Hell is Hell, war is war.” - Winfield Coleman

“ We're all damned nowadays, we're all sinners, and so I took it ta the highest degree. Murder'a the conscience." - Winfield Coleman

"I suppose in a world of mystery, we too are unsolved cases, and we must find who we are and search for the clues inside our hearts.” - Carlita Lorenz

“ I'm always going to stay on this road that leads to nowhere, because with those two women, I don't need a destination, just them. I believe in myself and my loves, and I'll always be a star, shining on if only to light up the night sky, to help the moon in her lovely presence." - Carlita Lorenz

“ I'm on a highway of red lights, a path of broken glass, but why not keep this dance in my stride and pride in my smile?” - Hailey Courtney

“ She's my hero, even if she feels like nothing more than a villain. I love her, she's taught me everything, to be strong, to be me, to laugh and enjoy what I have. She doesn't have a cape, she just has a chipped smile and an old tattered sweater.” - Hailey Courtney

“ I'm always gonna face the world with a smile, because if I can face a nightmare smiling, who can stop me, really?” - Hailey Courtney

"The world's a scary place, and sadly, with me in it, it's even more so.” - Keaton Devoncross

“ I'm both the cat and the dog, chasing my tail and running up a tree in cowardice, I'm not a good man, filled with such sins that they could kill any normal man, he'd jump off a cliff side, knowing what I do.” - Keaton Devoncross

“ I worry about things I shouldn't, always been an anxious child, scared of the world and scared of myself.” - Keaton Devoncross

“ Oh how wicked we are, with our claws of iron and rows of needles that prod our gums.” - Keaton Devoncross

“ We made a mockery of these commandments, thou shalt not kill, so instead we killed the mind. Thou shalt not steal, so instead we stole memories and joy. We are thieves of happiness, we stole the stars and let them blink out.” - Keaton Devoncross

“ We have destroyed the meaning of humanity, because these days we're monsters, tearing into whatever's left.” - Keaton Devoncross

"Step into the ring! You'll find here we all share one very similar trait! We wear sins on our sleeves and scars on our hearts! And here, the only way to find purpose, is to fight for it. You might die in the process, but it is a price you must be willing to pay! You are gladiators and gladiatrix's, fight, fight! Fight or die! Kill or be killed!” - Jorovany Ringmaster

“ I am Jorovany Ringmaster! Sinner of the highest degree! I wear both horns and halos, because too trick the saint, I must act like him.” - Jorovany Ringmaster

“ Blood stains the walls, ghosts fill the halls, and a mad man runs the show! You can not escape the arena, for it's always in your memory.” - Jorovany Ringmaster

“ Always was I born to be a beast of bloodied fang and crimson talon, but my heart does beat for someone, but it does not beat for the fool who dares trample the wolf. Adraina makes me feel such curious things, she protects me and says my damning acts are not so damning. She calls me fallen angel, but damned I am, and if she is by my side, damned is she.” - Maya Van Hunters

“ I do not regret what I have done, it doesn't seem to be in my bloodstream, my family tree is made up of rotten bark and branches with gallows our enemies swing from.” - Maya Van Hunters

“ Living is such a damning act, we were born so cold, so bloody. So it seems I never escaped the cycle of cruelty, and I suppose I never shall.” - Maya Van Hunters

“ As I have seen it, this bloodline ends with me, because I bare no child to continue our sinful ways. The wicked roots of my history shall fester and rot, the world will remember the Van Hunters name as a wicked one filled with sinful desires and love for a singular woman.” - Maya Van Hunters

“ I've hit rock bottom a thousand times, but I suppose all it takes to find the top is to climb.” - Rayford Gold

“ My brothers are good men, Robert and Crawford, stuck by me in my darkest times, it's hard to find people like them, who you can laugh and cry with. Some people love you only when it's light, but the ones who're true, love you even in the night. I have found so much, in this world. Money doesn't buy happiness, only friendship and love can do such a thing.” - Rayford Gold

“ I am not a bad man, just one who's made some bad choices.” - Rayford Gold

“ She saved Crawford's life, but her smile saved mine.” - Rayford Gold

“ Don't you dare damn me without knowin' my broken and hellbent past, vengeance is the only thing that drives me nowadays, I'm a broken creature of broken tusk and dented armor.” - Julie Forkroad

“ I got bullets with their names on it, Tilda, Maya, you best watch out, the monster you created is chargin', and her horns will skewer you, choke you on the blood you've spilt.” - Julie Forkroad

“ This future of mine is bloodstained, because my past is bloodstained. I can't escape all this pain because those ghostly women haunt me, their memory is damning, their existence is frightening. But I suppose, on this damned path, I became a reflection of them.” - Julie Forkroad

“ All I have left is my gun and a few empty prayers.” - Julie Forkroad

"It ain't the hatred spread that's remembered, I've learned. Yes, wicked deeds lay on the pages of history, but it's the actions that rid us of the dark, that lay in our hearts.” - Joyce Huffelsburg

“ I have saved so many little boys and girls from a life of trauma and the high risk of finding them swinging from the end of a rope for the sins of their mothers and fathers.” - Joyce Huffelsburg

“ Help people and put other's above yourself, and people will remember you as a hero, but that was never the point. It was always just to do the right thing, wasn't it?" - Joyce Hufflesburg

“ We're all fighting our own battles, whether they be physical or mental, and we gotta attain victory, or we'll never make it.” - Levanna Scorchton

“ I could make an explosion with a single match and an ocean with a single drop of water. That's just how deeply I love, if I couldn't love, I think I'd be driven to hate.” - Levanna Scorchton

"All the money in the world doesn't make one rich, but love? It'll make you the richest person in the world.” - Moriah Castelonia

“ Words can teach so much, but seldom do people speak them in meaningful ways.” - Moriah Castelonia

“ She was just another homeless woman to the world, but when I saw her, shivering on that street, flecks of snow in her golden hair, I knew I had to do something. Everyone passed her by, but if I had, I never would've been found in such a beautiful dance. She's my golden star, wise and lovely. She's taught me so much, we lived in separate worlds, I grew up with silver platters and everything I thought I needed to be happy, while she grew up with nothing but her hope and grit to carry through. Our worlds collided, and now they're so beautifully intertwined.” - Moriah Castelonia

"The question must be asked, is a church steeple dripping with the blood of the fallen still a holy scene? Or has it been scorched by the devil's flame?” - Father Goriah Thorell

“ If we're all sinful, is it such a stretch to say none of us are forgiven? Either God is forgiving and loving, or he's hateful and unforgiving.” - Father Goriah Thorell

“ There's blood on my Bible and sins sitting on the pew.” - Father Goriah Thorell

“ Such damned, and unholy things we are. Sinning with cause, and without it.” - Father Goriah Thorell

"Super heroes only exist in comics and action movies, the real heroes wear cowboy hats, flannels and are no different from you and me. Anyone can be a hero, all it takes is a little bit of will power.” - Mike Pennington

“ I never expected fatherhood to be pushed on me, so suddenly. But.. when my sister left this world.. I had to take care of her daughter, I had to take care of little Dalia. She's a smart kid, made me really proud, ya know? Some people only want her because she's smart, but I love her because she's goofy and fun, full of spirit and wisdom ain't no one ever see coming. She'll blow you away, man, she really will. With all her snark and love, she's a cute kid, and might I one day find her again.” - Mike Pennington

“ I'm no superhero, just a man who's willing to fight.” - Mike Pennington

"To a rich man, the heart is of little value, but to a poor one, it's all he has.” - Dornstecker

“ I've found New York is rampant with corruption and a darkness so smothering I sputter up the air I breathe.” - Dornstecker

“ You can send your thoughts and prayers to those who died, but it won't change a damn thing, all we can truly do is raise our voices and fight against this injustice. Staying silent to such evil only tolerates it, and I won't stand for it. I am a simple goblin, I clock into the bank at seven thirty, I do my job and hope no poor sod comes in with a gun, I clock out and feed my cat and sleep at nine o'clock sharp.” - Dornstecker

“ I have learned we're all paying the Devil's price and he is no pitch forked wielding entity, he's our politicians and our leaders hiding the blood behind their teeth with a pearly white smile. Despicable wolves, every last one of them. Hiding behind their suits and ties, with their large fancy estates.” - Dornstecker

“ We are many, and so why do we stay silent in the midst of horror? Are we to gobsmacked to do anything? Get over the shock of the situation and do something for God's sake.” - Dornstecker

"I think I need to raise my rifle ta fate and say screw you, you've been an asshole, I'm taking matters inta my own hands. Yeah, shoot fate in the heart, it ain't never been very fond of me anyway." - Church Godsel

"My misery overpowers my joy, these days." - Dale Markus

"I play with fire, but it is not I who burns." - Javier Cross

"I used ta say God is always watching, he's by you, he's by you! But now I sit and ponder, where was he when his son bled?" - Nestor Bevelricks

"We will fight until we are dead and buried, and when we are buried we will be remembered by the one's we call family, because family never forgets, friend." - Titus Hawley

"My regret is deafening, I imagine it's the only thing keeping me from hearing the cries of those I've wronged." - Simon Drogace

"He's a fool to trust me, and his family will pay dearly for his mistake."- Quentin Satchel

"If the truth is a sin, call me holy." - Quentin Satchel

"In a world with men like me peace can't exist." - Elton Seaderfault

"My sins crash on me and bury me underneath the wicked soil of my history." - Sean Gale

"So come on, call me a bad man, call me crazy, but I think, you're the crazy one, because you just pissed off Saul mother fucking Northutt, and your life span, has abruptly been cut short." - Saul Northutt

"I battled my demons, they wore plastic grins, and wielded empty promises." - Saul Northutt

"I'm a bad, bad man, walking through the fires of hell, runnin' through these pages wonderin', when the fuck do I run out of pages to tear the fuck out mercilessly?" - Saul Northutt

"We've taken five hundred steps back in this harsh dance with the darkness." - Alonzo Graves

"You trust a man with your life and you've dug your own grave." - Clayton W. Scarrberry

"Don't mistake your scars for weakness, they built you. Be proud of the strength it took to bare them without turning them on other's." - Rando Ballsy

"If my regret caught up to me vengeance would never be an option." - Dallas Lightsworth

"I see my grave error, I became a monster when my people, and most importantly my daughter needed a man they could look up too." - Bardzimi Talos

"Bob fucking Weathers, well I think that'll look real nice etched onto a tombstone." - Alastair Riseman

"How can God judge me for my sins when his sins can't be fucking counted?" - Roxane Vanderburg

"Do not speak of death as if it has seeped through your rotten skin." - Fandelhimer Bewitchasphere

"The world's filled with killers and vagabonds of Hell, guess I gotta make due with what I got and keep my pistol close." - Espifanio Vanderhoof

"These sins are heavy for those that trust me." - Michael Blomquist

"If I am ta be damned, may I burn Jasper with my fury." - Lileen Nallmorker

"The worst place I've ever resided is my memories." - Lucretia Covington

"Mother, father, forgive me. I never wanted to become a ghost haunting your memory." - Lucretia Covington

"My heart is buried in the pitch black forests in a pinewood box." - Belle Nalroma

"My troubled mind seldom brings me peace. Spose it's a wayfarin' stranger on a desolate road." - Gary Heartlock

"No one sympathizes for the devil it would seem." - Ruby Vollstale

"Revenge is a no man wins game, so here I am, losing." - Cole Milwood

"These sins at my back tell the tale of a lawful man forced to break it." - Aristead Solace

"The world has never favored the man who fights, have you ever noticed it's easier to give up than raise your fists? Easier to stay silent, than speak your mind?" - Timotheus Naziger

"The world cares not for the girl with her ferocious bark and fierce bite. And so the dog learns to become cold just as those who shied away from it." - Abaddon Whilsteila

"Fear never got me anywhere, being feared however did." - Abaddon Whilsteila

"You can not trust the wolf not to devour the lamb. So why put me in a field of peacemakers and expect me to come out without bloodstained hands?" - Caldwell Ramirez

"The world was never in your favor, ask the stars a question and you'll get howls." - Caldwell Ramirez

"The world is bathed in a wicked desire for no other reason than to dominate and conquer. These days we're repeating history and expecting a different result." - Nial Morranann

"Devils ain't wearin' no horns, brother, they got pearly white smiles and share your qualities." - Simon Rossburg

"Cold world we live in, spose all the flowers were kilt and all we're left with is the withered daffodils." - Morton Strawbellow

"Here I am, in a Hell of my own making, cause all I do is hurt myself, and Hell is repeated pain, so here I am, making my life Hell." - Ash Caesar

"People listen to words written on paper as if they were truth, they do not need to see to believe, and so all they'll ever do is ignore the truths that are spoken from the tongues of the people. You can not know truth, if all you breathe in is a lie." - Romanez Callowitz

"My mind is a prison of memories, I've lost hope to see my sunshine again, I begged the world not to take her away, she was my one and only. The star in a night sky that felt dark, but she blinked out, and all I'm left with is a photo album that depicts the memories before my daughter became a snapshot of a memory." - Darlita Romilez

"Chivalry dies when it finds war." - Joe Paquil

"I'm cursed with this never ending affliction to burn for my sins. But I spose a father's duty is to keep on fightin', if only to see his kids grow." - Marrows Redshaw

"Ain't the hate, that made me. But the love and the heart." - Samuel Bones

"I've been chasin' down my dreams since I could walk. Does Justice really think he can twist em into nightmares?" - Rodrick Taywillow

Carry on, they say, carry on. But this storm is not so merciful." - Ebenezer Vanderholt

#writing #author #characterdialogue #books #characterdevelopment #dopestuff #write

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 41 - SBT

Here it is!

"M?"

No answer.

"Hey, M? You listenin'?"

Mundy almost got startled when Eddy snapped his fingers right in front of his glasses.

"Huh? Sorry mate, I didn't hear you…"

"Man, you seem to have gone so far away in your head, I wasn't sure I could bring you back to Earth."

"Yeah, sorry…"

"What were you thinkin' about? You were all slouched over the counter and your eyes were half-closed n'all… and what's that dumb smile?!"

Mundy frowned. He didn't know he had been smiling on the outside, even though he had been wearing a grin internally for hours now. He straightened his back and felt some wetness at the corner of his lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Eddy's eyes snapped wide out of surprise.

"Have you been droolin'?! What the hell's wrong with you, man?!" Eddy looked in the direction in which Mundy had been staring through the window. "Only reason I'd drool like that is if there's a bomb of a girl outside, but I can't see any! What've you been starin' at?!"

Eddy squinted to see the people passing in the street outside of his shop better. None of them were the 'bomb of a girl' that he expected to find. Mundy grumbled.

"I uh… I fell asleep, that's all."

"You fell asleep?! You fell - man, your eyes were wide open!"

"Whatever…"

Eddy sighed.

"Somethin's on your mind, man, and it's something new, I can tell you that much!"

"Eddy…"

"Whatever it is, I've never seen you like that. You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Anyway, you were sayin'?"

"I was talking about those blokes who're buyin' more and more rifles from competition."

"Don't they buy some from you too?"

"Yeah, they do. But the overall selling of hunting stuff, and rifles in particular, is fuckin' blooming!"

"Why aren't you happy about it?"

"Man, I don't know… It doesn't feel like those are folks who just want to get a bit of huntin' for sports. Let me tell you something about them. See, when they came, they'd always…"

And Mundy's thoughts were warped away from Eddy's words. They came back to that man, that mongrel…

He had laid his head on Mundy's forearm and looked up to him, with his light blue, almost grey eyes. With the bandages he was wearing on his face, it was probably hard to tell for someone who didn't know. But Mundy knew. Oh yes, he did. He had seen Lulu, his perfect skin, his poetic hair, his alluring eyes…

That man was L. And L was Lulu. That meant that L actually looked like…

"Gosh." Mundy said out loud, his eyes opening wide and round.

"I know! It's puzzlin' me, but I'm sure it's puzzling lots of other guys, eh." Eddy put his hands on his hips. "Actually, I had a chat the other day one of them, Fred, the guy works at that other shop at the corner between…"

Mundy was off again. He hadn't said 'Gosh' to answer Eddy. He had said it because he now saw L as Lulu. That face, where tears had rolled as he had sung, was L's. That hair that flew and brushed the air beautifully, that was L's too. And God those eyes, and those lips… All those were L's too…!

"Mate, that's just bonkers…" Mundy said aloud again.

"It is, isn't it?"

Mundy put his hat that was laying on the counter back on his head and took a deep breath.

"M?! You haven't been listenin', have you?"

"Sorry mate…" Mundy wiped his face. "Can't quite focus."

"Why? Is anything' wrong?" Eddy seemed genuinely concerned.

"Nah, mate." Mundy stood off of his stool. "On the contrary, I think."

"What d'you mean?"

Mundy was now at the door. He looked up at the bright blue sky.

"I don't know…"

And he left the hunting shop. He walked in the streets, feeling as light as a feather, almost as if he was hovering above the ground.

The events at the Frenchman's hotel had happened a few days before but since then, Mundy had been on a high that he couldn't manage to land from.

And when his brain rewinded the events, he could feel it in his chest. There was a kind of warmth that he couldn't get enough of. It was intoxicating in the sweetest way. He felt fuzzy, his legs were jelly as he walked on the pavement and he revelled in that feeling. Everything around him was different. Even the air he breathed had a different scent and a different taste on his tongue.

All that because of what?

Because of that man who laid on his forearm. And Gosh, the look he gave him… L has the most poetic eyes Mundy had ever seen. That gaze he gave him was mellow, he was blinking slowly and it went straight to Mundy's insides. He was all flushed and his breath had cut short. He could feel his heart beat in all kinds of places.

But now, Mundy found himself missing that new and oddly satisfying sensation. Those ripples of tremor that had rolled inside him like waves. If he wasn't so shy, he would have done something, anything.

But God, how hard it is to do anything when those ice blue eyes were riveted on him… Like daggers, they pierced inside him. With irises that fair on his own, Mundy felt as if L could read his very thoughts, his most intimate ones. And it had scared Mundy. What if the Frenchman could know the effect his eyes only had on him. Bugger…

And Mundy started wondering. What would he have done if he had the strength, the courage, to do anything but melt in a puddle of heat on that sofa. And he dreamed it all with open eyes, as if it was happening in front of him. Mundy saw himself turn to L, lean his head on the Frenchman's, close his eyes, hold him close, inhale his perfume, exhale pure and sweet agony. The agony of knowing now that what he felt inside himself wasn't something he had allowed himself to feel for decades.

That feeling that had his mind stuck on those eyes, that man; and however hard he tried to tear his mind off of that vision, his thoughts like a rubber band would snap back on that moment, and all the others. All those moments when L, or Lulu, would make him feel good, because he was there, he cared, and if Mundy was to disappear abruptly, at least, someone would worry this time.

Mundy sighed. He had walked through the streets, his feet guiding him because his mind wasn't there at all. No, his mind was fabricating all kinds of scenarios, an endless fan spreading possibilities like a mad painter would toss colours on an eager, buzzing canvas.

He saw L leaning on his shoulder, closing his feline eyes because he felt safe with him. He saw himself looking down at his soft, silky locks of coal and cinder, burning to lose his fingers through them. He saw the icy blue eyes rise to his own and eyelids half-closed with arched eyebrows, the black eyelashes fanning the air like delicate butterfly wings. He saw the silhouette of the body that Richard had described as 'made for modelling', with proportions worthy of being immortalised in statues, and admired. He saw long and slim fingers, hidden behind dark gloves of poetry and mystery. What would it feel to touch them? Shivers shot through Mundy and his shoulders tensed as a reflex. What would it then feel to touch his naked hands, those he saw him use to stroke Perle…

Mundy bit his lip. That kitten was extremely lucky and he understood why she chose the Frenchman. Where else in the world would you be the safest, but in the arms of the one who can kill and refuses to get killed for you? Nowhere, quite simply. Perle must have felt that. She must have sensed that Lucien would do anything for her, for her safety and her well-being.

Ah, how he talked to her was a sight to behold too. He did it tenderly, with affection, and he didn't just call her 'my baby'. He treated her like his baby, worrying about her, asking Mundy to lower his voice to not wake her up…

He must have been a very loving father, a good one; someone who wasn't afraid to show his feelings and support his son emotionally.

Mundy sighed and kicked a rock on the pavement.

L must have been a very different father from Mundy's. Mike could be loving too, but he was extremely stubborn. Each new argument they started was one they never finished, and each time they would come back to it, they would never really come to an agreement. Maybe Mundy was as stubborn as his father, maybe that was why. In any case, since Mundy's voice had cracked, him and his father started drifting away. It lasted until the old man's last breath.

"Hm…"

Mundy's hand pushed a door that his subconscious deemed familiar enough to do it without his conscious agreement.

"Oh hey, M!"

Hearing his name made Mundy snap back to reality. He blinked and looked around as if he discovered the place all over again.

"Your and L's table is free. Go ahead, I'll be a minute."

Mundy obeyed and only when he sat down on the banquette did his mind register the fact that he was at Victoria's diner. The young woman soon came at his table.

"So, what will you have?"

"Coffee and a croissant, please."

Victoria raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"What?" M asked.

"Nothing."

"You sure? Why the smile then?" Mundy himself was now smiling too.

"Alright, it's just that you and L order the same things. I could guess what you want by telling you what he had a few days ago when he came here."

"Really? Well… Eh… He's French, he knows your coffee and croissant are good."

"So do you, mate, but you're not French, are you?"

"Heh, nah I'm not."

"Wish you were?"

"Well, I'm startin' to learn the language."

"Are you?" Victoria was surprised. "Oh, wait, give me just a second, I'll fix your food and be right back, ok?"

"Sure."

And in a minute, Victoria came back. She put the coffee mug and the pastry on the table before sitting opposite Mundy.

"So, learning French, eh?" She asked.

"Bah, just catching a word, here and there."

"How come?" She asked.

Mundy took a good sip of his coffee and raised his eyes from his mug to Victoria's eyes.

"I uh… I got to know a few French songs, good stuff really, and I wanted to understand what they were sayin'."

"I see…"

Victoria let her sentence hang in the air and watched as Mundy started his croissant. He didn't get it. She let the silence weigh and stared at him. Why and how L could fall for that man, she could see. He was simple in a very true way, when L was a man of artifice, of ruse, of tricks. L was someone who liked having control over everything, he liked knowing everything and being in a position where nothing could catch him off guard and possibly hurt him. On the contrary, M seemed to let life guide his steps without questioning its mysterious ways. He just moved at the rhythm of the days and the nights, he was very much in the present, when L was always trying to live in anticipation, guessing what would happen next.

And Victoria was understanding it. L had fallen for the simplicity of M, his very natural and true self. He didn't try to shine or please. He was just himself, and very honestly so, while M had fallen for L's charm, his sense of control, that made him feel safe. In a way, they had fallen for the way that each other managed to find some comfort and solace.

Mundy raised his eyes to Victoria and saw her. She seemed to be expecting something.

"What?"

"Come on, say it."

"Say what?" He bit in his croissant again.

"Come on, where have you heard those French songs…? It was L who was singin', wasn't it?"

Mundy almost spat his coffee out as he choked on a bit of croissant.

"Gosh…!"

Victoria let him take his time to catch his breath.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

“Y-yeah… So you know he sings?”

“I was the one to recommend the place to him, so yeah. I take it you know too, then. Have you been to one of his shows?"

"Yeah." Mundy averted his gaze from the young girl.

"And you liked it quite a bit to try and translate it, eh?" She said.

Mundy blushed and shifted on the chair, a bit to the right and a bit to the left. He was embarrassed.

"I-yeah, yeah, it's nice."

"I've been there once. He got me a table with free dinners so I went with my boyfriend."

Mundy raised his eyes to her. She was smiling.

"Wanna know what I thought of it?" She asked.

"Sure."

"M…"

He frowned.

"He's old enough to be my dad and I have a boyfriend, but if he was closer to my age and if I had been single…" She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. "I mean, it's bloody hard to resist that bloke, isn't it?"

Mundy chuckled, still red in the face.

"I guess it is, eh." He looked through the window, feigning indifference.

"You guess?" She repeated, not believing his nonchalant air for a single second.

His eyes flashed back to her.

"It's obvious!" She exclaimed. "The bloke's gorgeous, he's got the manners and all! I'm sure he's got all of the posh women he sings for at his feet!"

Mundy laughed.

"Well, you're not wrong. He told me he receives heaps of letters from them."

"I'm not surprised!" She added. "The only thing that I can't wrap my head around is how on Earth he is single with all that choice…?"

Mundy smiled, albeit sadly.

"Well, maybe he likes it better that way." He said.

"Pff, bullshit!" She snapped at him like a spring bounces back when you press it. "Nah…"

"What is it then d'you reckon?" He asked, feeling that Victoria had it all thought through.

She looked left and right, as if to make sure that no one around was eavesdropping on them.

"I think he's just after the best person. The bloke can afford it, he isn't unpleasant to look at or to talk to, if just a bit old."

"C'mon, he isn't that old." Mundy said.

"He's got grey hair, the man! I saw it!"

"Yeah, that's gonna happen to you too eh, Victoria."

"Yeah, but in a long time!"

"Hm, guess so."

"You don't seem too bothered by it yourself." She said.

"Bah, why would I?"

"You like them older?" She boldly asked and Mundy's coffee nearly sprang out of his nostrils this time, which made the young waitress burst into laughter.

"Bloody hell, woman…"

"Sorry, but that was super funny…" Victoria rose to her feet. "Gotta get back to it."

She collected the cups and such on her tray and as she took her first step towards the kitchen, she stopped next to him and bent down for her lips to be next to Mundy’s ear.

"He likes you."

She patted his shoulder and left him, jaw dropped, hot, steaming and sweating below his hat. He clenched his fist on the table until the knuckles went white and he breathed fast and short.

What did she mean with that? Did he like him 'like him', or like him 'like him'? Had he told her that or was she just saying what she thought was true? How could she know? He would never tell her, would he?

Mundy took a moment to take a deep breath and calm down. When he deemed himself strong enough for it, he stood up, went to the counter where he paid what he owed and exited. He now was sure, Mundy was indeed hovering above the ground.

He walked, his feet guiding him more than his head as he strolled along the streets, finally seeing the smiles on the passer-bys faces. Families, children, people of all ages, colours and faiths, the rainbow of humanity just enjoying their day. And for once since a very long time, Mundy was amongst them, amongst those who waved at the happy frequency. He saw the spectrum of colours that his eyes had unlearnt to see. The pavement wasn't grey anymore, the sky was of a vibrant shade of blue and the sun was shining brightly.

Even when Mundy entered the poorest district of town, he didn't see the half torn posters on cracked, old walls, where the paint had long washed out. He didn't see beggars as people who suffered. No, they were people who helped and supported each other, a true nucleus of humanity, a family.

"M?"

Mundy stopped sharp. The voice of a child had interrupted him.

"God, you walk very fast, M…!" The poor boy was panting and catching his breath. Mundy squatted down to be at eye-level with him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Have you been runnin' after me for long?"

"Quite a bit… Ooh, alright, now, Maurice sent me…"

"What did he say?"

"He said you should go and see him as soon as possible. It's not about the man you look for, it's about your friend."

Mundy's happiness plummeted and he resumed a focused behaviour in the blink of an eye.

"Alright, is he in right now?" He asked.

"Hasn't left the house after your friend visited him."

"Right, thanks, kid."

The young boy nodded and walked the opposite way while Mundy headed confidently to one of the houses that led into Maurice's lair. The beggar guarding the entrance let him through without him even having to ask.

"Maurice is waiting for you."

Mundy thanked them and in a few minutes, he entered the throne room of the king of beggars.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Take a seat, M."

Mundy obeyed and removed his hat on the table.

"What is it? The kid told me it's about my friend? Who d'you mean?"

Maurice was sitting at his end of the table. His face told just how deep he was within his own thoughts. He took a deep breath and raised his head to Mundy.

"I came across a piece of information." He started.

"Yeah, and? C'mon, why d'you hesitate that much?"

Maurice frowned. He pouted, bit his cheek, and his eyes darted left and right. He was visibly wavering about something.

"I am not sure I should tell you."

"Well mate, you should have thought it through before. Here I am now, sitting in front of you and I know that there is something." Mundy answered. "Who's the friend that the kid mentioned? Is it Eddy?"

"Non."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. That sounded very much like a French 'Non', and not like an English 'No'. Strange.

"It is L."

The Aussie frowned.

"Oh, is it about the beatin'? I guess the Doc' told you. It was me, m'afraid. We had a… an argument and uh…"

"Mundy, forget that." Maurice cut him. "I am not talking about a few punches thrown here and there. Non, I couldn't care less about that."

Mundy raised a curious eyebrow.

"What's the problem then?"

"The piece of information I have come across…"

"Yeah?"

"It… It did upset him."

Mundy frowned again.

"What d'you mean?"

"He stormed away from here and God knows if he will go to the end of his mission now."

"His mission? Well that's pompous if anything… But what was it that you learnt?"

"Mundy, do you know what L is? Did he ever tell you?"

Mundy shook his head.

"Nah, he said he would never tell me and I would never understand it. Wait, hold on, do you know that? Is that what you came to know?"

"Non, God, non… I already knew what he was, who doesn't…" Maurice sighed. "Well, I will not be the one who will tell you. In any case, what I wanted to tell you is that he might need a few more days. He might also decide to, well, at best delay his mission, at worst, abandon it completely."

"What are you on about?!" Confusion was painted all on Mundy's face.

"I don't know if you should go to him and try to lift his spirits up or leave him alone. But given the state he was in when he left, I must tell you this: if he decides to abandon his duty and disappear for another ten years or more, and if you still want it, I will continue to help you get the man who killed your parents."

"What the hell are you talking about now? 'If he decides to abandon his duty and disappear'? What kind of nonsense is that?!" Mundy asked, baffled and slightly worried now.

"I would tell you to go and ask him, but I am afraid he might already be gone."

Mundy's heart stopped.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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angryinternetduck · 4 years ago

Text

Only Angel

2.3k words on a polaroid, magic, and pandemonium. Harry Styles x ofc. Warnings: teeny bit of bad language, alcohol, barest mention of cheating

Harry pulled out his wallet to pay, but something else fell out - A picture. A Polaroid. An angel. Arabella. Woah. “Sir?” Harry blinked. Looked up. “Er - right, sorry.” He paid up. Left the store. Arabella. Christ. Almost forgot about that. She didn’t leave a number… For f*ck’s sake - why the hell didn’t she leave a bloody number? Harry sighed. Glanced across the street. Looked like he was going back to the bar, didn’t it?

**********

Harry was… exhausted.

Just… tired.

And the bar was crowded, and it was loud, and there were so many people.

He stared at the whiskey in his glass, swirling it around… and around… and around…

“Hi!”

Wow. Perky. Too perky.

Harry didn’t turn around. The whiskey was so… mesmerizing…

“Hullo,” Harry murmured.

“I’m drunk!”

Harry blinked, glancing around despite himself.

Bloody hell.

Red hair. Red hair, in a high ponytail. Blue eyes, freckles. Freckles, freckles, freckles. She was grinning, blinding him. Pinkest lips he’d ever seen. She was chewing bubble gum. She rolled it between her teeth. Bright pink. A white shirt, a little pocket over her heart. A little mini-skirt.

She looked like a bloody angel.

She was glowing.

What the fuck.

“Um - er -” Harry cleared his throat. “Hello,” he repeated.

“Hi!” she said again. “Can we take a picture?”

“A - a what?”

“A picture!” she chirped, holding up a polaroid camera.

“I -” He hesitated.

She’s drunk, she’s gorgeous, he’s drunk, he loves her, why not -

Why not?

“Sure,” he said.

She grinned. Harry’s heart stopped.

She leaned in, Harry smelled cherry chapstick, bubble gum, liquor -

“Smile!”

A flash.

Harry blinked, and she giggled. Tapped his nose. Harry blinked again.

What the fuck.

It printed. Whiirrrrrr…

She took out a marker, spun it around her knuckles - she was left-handed, wearing a little ring on her middle finger, red nail polish - and murmured, “Ar… a… bell… a,” as she signed her name with a flourish at the bottom of a polaroid.

A polaroid of him, a startled smile on his face, his gaze on her, who was beaming at the camera, her eyes bright and sparkling in the flash of the camera, dazzlingly brilliant in the dim darkness of the bar around them.

“Arabella,” she said, blinding Harry with another dazzling grin and holding out the picture. Harry blinked. Nodded. “Er - Harry,” he said. “Harry!” she giggled, kissing him on the cheek.

“Nice to meet you!” she chirped, and spun around, and -

And she was gone.

What.

The.

Fuck.

***

Harry wanted a sweet.

Something sugary… and soft… and bad for you…

He found a bakery. Sprinkles. Lovely.

Not even a queue!

Harry grinned. Got a cupcake. Pulled out his wallet to pay…

Something else fell out -

A picture.

A polaroid.

An angel.

Arabella.

Woah.

“Sir?”

Harry blinked. Looked up. “Er - right, sorry.” He paid up. Left the store.

Arabella. Christ. Almost forgot about that.

She didn’t leave a number…

For fuck’s sake - why the hell didn’t she leave a bloody number?

Harry sighed. Glanced across the street.

Looked like he was going back to the bar, didn’t it?

***

Too early.

He was too early.

Only nine o’clock.

Harry sat near the door. Ordered a whiskey. Swirled it around. Stared at the clock.

***

Eleven.

A gust of wind.

Cherries. Bubble gum.

Harry looked up. Grinned.

An angel.

“Harry!” she exclaimed.

“Arabella,” Harry said.

They were staring.

There had been music, hadn’t there? In the bar? And people?

There wasn’t any of that now.

It was just her. Just him, just her, those eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry laughed, and he stood up, took a step, and -

Her lips were soft, perfect, tasted like cherries. And tequila - hadn’t she just arrived at the bar? - and bubble gum. She was so sweet. She was giggling, her fingers slipping up through his hair, her hips swinging with the music.

“Get a room!” somebody shouted.

Harry grinned. Forced himself to pull away.

“Shall we?” he asked. “Get a room?”

She giggled. “We shall,” she said, and they went and got a room.

***

It was heaven.

Of course. Only fitting for an angel.

It wasn’t enough. Harry got the feeling it would never be enough.

He got her number.

Left.

Lasted two weeks.

“Hullo, Bella…”

***

She had a wonderful little flat.

Bright and airy despite the cheap rent and creaky building.

Harry loved it.

She hated it.

Something about being inside.

But the hallway was fine.

She liked the hallway.

Something about all those lives, coming together, little interactions.

They ended up in a lot of little corners.

In the hallway.

***

Next time, he lasted a week.

Barely.

The next, a few days.

Barely.

He was getting addicted.

It was okay.

He didn’t mind.

Wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway, was there?

She was like something caught in his teeth, always there, nagging and nagging until -

Until he called.

“Hullo, Bells,” he began every call.

“Meet me in the hallway?” he ended every call.

***

Six times. Six times was heaven.

Seventh time, she stood him up.

Harry knocked.

He hated the door.

Loved the flat, hated the door.

All wooden, with little splinters everywhere.

Nobody answered.

He hadn’t expected anything; she answered on the third knock.

Answered the door on the third knock, the phone on the third ring.

Harry knocked again.

Nothing.

A third time.

Harry’s hand was already on the doorknob.

Nothing.

Harry frowned. Jiggled the knob. It was locked.

He knocked again.

Knocked, and knocked, and knocked.

And then -

Harry hissed in pain.

A splinter.

“For fuck’s -”

He sighed. Stared at the door.

And then he walked away. Where was she?

***

I’m sorry, she’d said. I’m so sorry.

He’d smiled. It’s okay, he’d said. I don’t mind.

It wasn’t okay. He did mind.

But then she kissed him.

And he didn’t mind anymore.

***

Harry knocked on the door to Arabella’s flat, only using one knuckle.

He hated that door.

Knocked again.

Waited a beat.

He raised his fist to knock again -

The door swung open.

Harry blinked in surprise; that was only two knocks, wasn’t it?

It was a man. Tall. Red hair, blue eyes. Lots of freckles. Glasses.

“Who’re you?” Glasses asked.

“Harry,” Harry said. “And you are?”

The man frowned. “Harry Styles?”

“Yeah, pleasure,” Harry answered, a bit impatient. “Who’re you?”

Glasses raised an eyebrow. “Looking for Arabella, are you?”

“For fuck’s - Who are you?”

He grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. “I’m the brother. Oliver.”

Harry faltered. “Oh,” he said, feeling like a fool. “Right. Is Bells - is she here? Arabella?”

“Yeah,” Glasses - Oliver - said, smirking. “In the loo. I’m heading out…” He stepped back to let Harry in, and Harry nodded as he walked past him. “Right,” Harry said, turning back around to face him. “Well,” he said awkwardly, “nice to meet you.”

“Right, right,” Oliver said absently, staring at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat. “Er…”

“Can I just…” He hesitated. “Let me just warn you -” he began, and Harry smiled a bit.

“The brother warning?” he cut in. “Break her heart and you’ll kill me? I got it.”

Oliver chuckled and shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, no, I was going to say…” He grinned. “I was going to say be careful, mate. She’ll be fine. It’s you I worry about. Don’t let her break your heart, yeah?”

Harry frowned. “Er… yeah.”

Oliver studied him for another awkward second. “Right,” he said. “Well. Cheers.”

He grabbed his coat, and he left the flat.

“Cheers,” Harry murmured, staring at the door.

“Harry!”

“Bells!” Harry exclaimed, spinning around.

“Hello,” Arabella giggled, kissing him.

“Hello,” Harry said.

“Missed you,” Arabella breathed against his lips.

“Missed you too, Bells,” Harry sighed. “Missed you too.”

***

She met him at a little coffee shop.

She didn’t warn him.

Well, not really.

Just called. Asked where he was.

“See ya,” she’d said.

And then she’d appeared.

Like a bloody miracle.

And then she’d dragged him outside.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” she’d said.

And so they walked.

Well, he walked.

She skipped. Ran. Jumped. Twirled.

Sang. She had Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys stuck in her head.

Of course she did.

Harry grinned and held her hand as she spun into his arms.

***

Harry was drunk.

Pissed.

Absolutely off his face.

He was having the time of his bloody goddamn life, singing, dancing… drinking…

And then he saw something.

Red hair. A shimmer. A magic.

An angel?

She turned. Blue eyes, freckles, bubblegum.

An angel.

His angel.

Making out with somebody.

Harry choked on his whiskey. Slapped a fifty on the counter.

And left.

***

Arabella called him.

Harry didn’t answer.

***

She called him again.

Harry picked up.

“Meet me in the hallway?” she asked.

No, Harry’s brain told him. Say no, it said. Break it off. Don’t -

“Absolutely,” Harry said.

***

She kissed him before he could say anything.

She kissed him senseless.

Because she was beautiful.

Because she was perfect.

Because she was an angel.

And, well, if she was a devil in between the sheets - his sheets, that other guy’s sheets…

There wasn’t anything she could do about it, was there?

***

She arrived at his flat two days later.

She knocked three times.

When Harry opened the door, she was grinning.

She produced a box of chocolates. “Do you like chocolate?” she asked.

Harry grinned back. “I love chocolate.” He stepped back. “Come in, then.” She walked inside, floating on rainbows, and bounced onto his couch. She held out the chocolates, and he took one, and she popped one into her mouth, grinning up at him.

“Hello,” she giggled.

“Hi,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow and stealing another chocolate.

She stood up. Wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close.

“You’re cute,” she said.

“Thank you, darling,” Harry laughed. “Not too bad yourself.”

“You’re wonderful,” Arabella hummed, and she kissed him, and everything melted away.

***

She was glowing.

Wearing his shirt.

Her hair was soft, the dusk light through his window creating a halo around her head.

A halo.

Of course.

Harry was lying in his bed, watching her mess around on his piano.

“You like to play?” she asked.

Harry nodded. “Mhmm.”

“I used to… play…” she said softly, dragging her fingers against the keys with a feather-light touch. Notes floated through the air like butterflies, so crisp and clear that Harry could practically see them in front of him.

“Why’d” - his voice was raspy; he cleared his throat. “Why’d you stop?”

Arabella shrugged. “Got bored…”

C… D… A… C… D… A…

Harry frowned. He’d never heard that before. He liked that.

He loved that.

“What’s that?” he asked.

She shrugged again. “Dunno.”

She played it again.

C… D… A… C… D -

She stopped as Harry wrapped his arms around her, bending down to pepper kisses down her neck. “Harry,” she giggled, spinning around to kiss him properly. “Christ, you’re ridiculous,” Harry laughed as she tugged him down onto the piano bench.

“You love me,” she breathed.

“Impossible not to, Bells,” Harry murmured against her. “Impossible not to.”

***

Pandemonium.

That’s how he’d describe her.

Perfect pandemonium.

Angelic, perfect pandemonium.

Arabella liked that word.

“Pandas,” she’d said when he used that word to describe a party they’d gone to.

Harry had grinned. “Pandas,” he’d agreed.

Arabella had laughed, and she’d kissed him.

“Pandas,” she’d giggled.

***

She liked old films.

The romantic kind.

Her favorite was The Apartment.

She called it The Flat.

But she couldn’t just watch a movie; no, no, that was too boring.

Instead, she multi tasked.

She watched the movie, and made cookies.

And threw popcorn into hats.

And played card games.

Today, she braided Harry’s hair.

“I wish I’d met you when it was long,” she mused softly.

“Me too,” Harry sighed, watching Shirley MacLaine spout flu statistics in an elevator on the screen. “Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” Arabella murmured as Shirley did. She lowered her voice and imitated Jack Lemmon’s sick voice - “Shoulda stayed in bed last night.”

Harry grinned.

Arabella’s voice rose a pitch again. “Nineteen!”

“Watch your feet,” Harry cut in, slipping into falsetto as Shirley said, “Watch your step.”

Arabella giggled, mussing his hair. “And watch your hands, Mr. Kirkby!”

“I beg your pardon!” Harry chorused with Jack.

“One of these days, I’m gonna close these doors on you and…” She mimicked Shirley’s random motions on Harry’s head, tugging just a bit too hard, and Harry yelped. “Christ, woman!” he scoffed, ducking away. “You watch your hands.”

Arabella giggled, fussing with his hair again and kissing his head.

The Apartment filled the room for a second.

And then -

“I’m bored,” Arabella declared.

“Claustrophobic?” Harry asked, standing up and stretching.

“Phobic,” Arabella echoed, making a face. “I hate that word.”

“Hate’s a strong one, Bells.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I do!” she exclaimed resolutely. “In fact,” she added, I’ve got a phobia of it!” Harry raised an eyebrow. “A phobia of the word phobic, hm?” She giggled. Nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“How’s the hallway sound, Haz?” she asked.

“The hallway sounds fantastic,” Harry said, and she led him to the door.

***

She was rock and roll, Harry decided one morning.

Perfect pandemonium in rock and roll.

A bit of piano, angelic choruses, and then rock and roll.

Harry spun a pencil around his knuckles and began to write.

It was all too easy.

She was an angel.

He really saw an angel.

He practically finished the song in one morning.

Only Angel, he called it.

C… D… A, it began. C… D… A…

***

hope you liked it!!! if you did, a reblog and some feedback would be much appreciated 💜 thanks for reading!!!

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#i really have no idea #how to communicate #piano notes #on paper #without using the keys?#sorry if you don't understand hehe #but it's the beginning of only angel #if u didn’t get that…. sorry!!!#only angel #harry styles #song!fic #harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #angryinternetduck #fics

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azozzoni · 5 years ago

Note

I’ve recently fallen into a huge Lukes hole (all your fault btw) and have been unable to find many fics. Can you please write some lukes? Anything really, I don’t care

Happy New Year’s Eve. I hope 2020 is a better year for everyone.

Lucas cringed as Isa tried to stick a golden cone hat on his head.

“Is,” he protested, but she was already drunk already even though midnight was an hour off.

“You need a hat!” she insisted, and Lucas carefully avoided the slosh of her drink. “It’s New Years Eve, Luc!”

Lucas was perfectly aware of what day it was. Even if he hadn’t been at a party with golden confetti everywhere, balloons with an ugly naked baby on it, sunglasses shaped like 2020, he would still know what day it was.

The house was too brightly-lit for a party, Lucas thought as he let Isa snap the elastic against his chin, painful. He wished it was darker, that he’d had more to drink, that it was easier to pretend he didn’t care that Kes was over talking to the girls, being his usual flirty self.

“If I wear the hat, will you go away?” he asked her as she patted his cheek, wrinkling her nose at him.

“Don’t be rude,” she said, perhaps a little too forcefully. Lucas wondered where Liv was, if she could cut her off. But Liv was somewhere with Noah, leaving Isa unaccompanied. He just hoped she wouldn’t try to kiss him like the party last year.

“Oh, look,” he said, nodding across the room. “Ralph brought out the champagne.”

“Ooh!” Isa said eagerly, and Lucas let out a breath as she finally left him.

Rubbing his forehead, he went the opposite direction. It had been a very long evening already, but he couldn’t just leave. He had to stay until midnight, until the countdown was over and this year could be over.

In the bathroom, Lucas sighed at his reflection in the mirror, the bags under his eyes that didn’t seem to go away no matter how much or little sleep he got. Under the harsh lighting, he didn’t look any better than usual and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to tough it out, the next hour at least.

When he finally opened the bathroom door, he practically ran into Kes, bumping against his shoulder.

“Hey,” Kes greeted him, eyes scanning his face. “Nice hat.”

“Thanks,” Lucas muttered, slipping past him.

“Luc,” he said, and Kes’ hand caught Lucas’ arm. “I saw you talking to Isa.”

“So?” Lucas asked, glancing down the hall. Everyone else was in the living room, putting on hats, laughing or dancing or just having a good time. “You seemed to be having a good enough time with the rest of the girls.”

Kes didn’t reply for a minute, hand still wrapped around Lucas’ arm. He glanced down the hall too before looking back to Lucas.

“You know it’s nothing,” he said, taking a step closer to Lucas. “No need to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Lucas scoffed, tugging his arm from Kes’ grip. “I just want to go home.”

“But it’s not midnight yet,” Kes argued, frowning as though Lucas was being crazy.

Lucas didn’t think he was. Not when he’d already spent the whole night pretending he was having a good time, pretending he didn’t care that Kes had spent more time flirting with girls than with him. He knew why. He just didn’t like it.

“And what’s gonna happen at midnight?” Lucas asked before he could stop himself, trying not to let the sadness fill him as they stood there because he already knew the answer. “Are we going to toast to a new year? Are you going to kiss some random girl while I stand by and watch?”

“Luc,” Kes said, almost warning, but Lucas shook his head.

“I know,” he said simply. “Nobody knows. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

They’d agreed, he and Kes, that they weren’t ready to tell people, that they were still figuring things out. But that was months ago. Months of sneaking around, lying to Jayden about why they both had to stay home and help their parents, months of making out in secret, wishing he could tell someone.

“Just please don’t kiss Isa, okay?” Lucas said finally, sighing. He didn’t think he could handle that. It was bad enough that he didn’t get to kiss Kes at midnight, but if he had to watch Kes kiss someone else, he would prefer it not to be his ex-girlfriend.

Kes didn’t reply as Lucas turned finally and headed back to the living room. He desperately needed a drink to get through tonight.

Three glasses of champagne later, Lucas didn’t feel any better, but midnight was nearing, so at least his torture would soon be over.

“You okay, man?” Jayden asked as Lucas slumped against the wall. He kept checking his phone, praying for the minutes to tick by faster.

“Fine,” he said, grabbing another glass as someone came by with a tray.

“You should go talk to Engel,” Jayden said, as though Lucas was at all interested in her. “Maybe lay one on her when the clock strikes.”

Lucas barely refrained from shuddering at the thought. Not that Engel was unattractive, but he already knew who he’d rather kiss, and it wasn’t a girl.

“Who’re you kissing?” he asked Jayden, rolling his head toward him, pausing as he caught sight of Kes over by the kitchen door, smiling at something Isa said. She was hanging all over him, laughing loudly, head thrown back. He felt his stomach turn over at the sight.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Jayden said with a smirk.

“Better choose fast,” Lucas said, checking the clock again. Just a few minutes to go. Just a few more moments of this terrible night.

As he watched, Kes carefully extricated himself from Isa, glancing his way. Lucas looked away quickly. He didn’t want to have to see this.

“I think I will,” Jayden said, slapping Lucas on the shoulder. Lucas jerked forward at the pressure, glad for the wall holding him up. His stomach had begun to churn, and not entirely from the alcohol as they hit one minute to go and Liv and Ralph started hushing everyone to start the countdown.

“Sixty! Fifty-nine! Fifty-eight!”

Sighing, Lucas closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

“Luc.”

Kes’ voice in his ear made Lucas open his eyes, frowning at Kes beside him.

“Decided who you’re going to kiss?” he asked, though he had absolutely no interest in knowing the answer.

Kes didn’t reply for a second as the voices around them continued their countdown—“Forty-two, forty one!”

“I think I have,” he said finally, and Lucas huffed out a breath.

“Then you should go,” he said, nodding towards the crowd. He was sure it would be someone pretty. Someone who laughed and touched Kes’ arm in an obvious attempt at flirting, one of those girls at school who giggled every time Kes walked past.

Kes was running out of time, Lucas thought when Kes didn’t leave him. Running out of time to choose the perfect girl, to start the new year off with everyone believing their lie. Just like they were supposed to.

“I’m already there.”

Confused, Lucas frowned as the countdown reached thirty seconds. Searching Kes’ gaze, he shook his head.

“What…” he said, taking a breath as Kes stepped closer, tilting his head to the side.

“I don’t want to kiss some random girl,” Kes said as the crowd shouted, “Twenty!” “And I don’t want to kiss Isa. I want to start the new year with you.”

Lucas stared, unable to find the words. There were a million things he could ask, like why now, what had made Kes change his mind, how they were going to explain any of this to all their friends who were right there behind them.

But he didn’t say any of it as everyone shouted around them.

“Five!”

Kes stepped in closer.

“Four!”

Kes’ hands came up to Lucas’ face, gentle, reassuring.

“Three!”

Lucas reached for Kes, careful hands at his waist, not thinking about everyone else around them.

“Two!”

Kes leaned in, noses bumping together, and Lucas felt his heart thudding in his chest.

“One!”

Kes�� lips were soft, his eyes closed as cheers exploded around them. Lucas could barely hear them over his heart beat in his ears, elation spreading through him as they kissed. It wasn’t long, just long enough that when Kes pulled away, they found Isa and Jayden staring at them.

“This explains so much,” Jayden said, deadpan, as though unsurprised by this new turn of events.

As Jayden waded into the crowd, Isa didn’t move except to cross her arms. Lucas felt a piercing of fear, eyes darting to Kes. This was what they’d been afraid of, the reactions of everyone around them. Coming out was hard enough, coming out with your best friend to his ex-girlfriend? Impossible.

But then Isa smiled. “I guess congratulations are in order,” she said. “You idiots.”

Lucas’ eyes widened as Isa threw her arms around them, clearly still drunk but not mad at least. He met Kes’ eyes over her shoulder and he smiled slightly, relieved.

“God, I need another drink!” she shouted as she let go of them, bounding after the champagne tray.

“Well,” Lucas said as he turned to Kes, and Kes nodded.

“Well,” he echoed, reaching for Lucas’ neck as he smiled. “Happy New Year, Luc.”

For the first time, Lucas didn’t hesitate to pull Kes to him in a hug, arms tight around his neck. This was how the night was supposed to have gone from the beginning. This was how every party would go from now on, he decided. “Happy New Year.”

#skam nl #lukes #skam nl fic #my fic

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

Text

LuXY/Lukadrien/Lukadrienette: Welcome to La-La Land: Chapter Two

@luxyweek

Welcome to La-La Land: Chapter Two: Heroics

Things got weirder.

The party was scheduled to go until three in the morning, so Bob Roth had booked rooms at Le Grand Paris for those in attendance so that they didn’t have to drive themselves home or find taxis or worry about public transportation shutting down for the night.

At two o’clock, Luka dragged himself out of the ballroom and up to the fifth floor to room five-seventeen, swiping his keycard and practically stumbling in.

He’d had too much to drink, and he was already regretting it.

The lights were on, saving Luka the trouble of having to fumble about in the dark to find the switch. He made his way down the short entrance hall with one hand skimming along the wall for support. He passed the bathroom and went out into the main area where he found XY lounging on the far bed in his boxers and a bathrobe.

Luka paused, evaluating the situation, wondering exactly how drunk he was to be having this hallucination. He decided that he was, in fact, not that drunk, so that had to be the real XY in his actual boxers on a bed that did, in reality, exist.

XY smiled and waved. “Hey.”

“I am so sorry I must have the wrong room,” Luka spit out in one breath, not leaving space for punctuation, as he turned on his heel and marched out.

Once safely in the hall, Luka looked down at his keycard. The little paper holder distinctly had the numbers five, one, and seven written on it.

He looked up at the plaque on the door and found that it also read five-seventeen.

Come to think of it, the keycard had worked when he’d scanned it.

Luka gave the door a perfunctory knock and waited a moment in case XY actually wanted to tie his bathrobe closed before Luka entered the room once more, announcing, “Actually, it seems like I don’t have the wrong room. Do you have the wrong room?”

XY had not bothered with modesty and was still posed on the bed, bathrobe hanging open. “Nope. Five-seventeen. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I bet they double booked, thinking that not everyone from the party would use their room. My dad’s thrifty like that.”

Luka pursed his lips. “Oh. Okay. I guess…I’ll go down to the front desk and explain the situation?”

He really didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to drag his carcass down to the lobby, wait for them to assign him a new room, and then trudge his way there. He wanted to collapse onto the soft, comfy bed next to the one which XY was currently occupying and fall asleep.

“Or we could just share,” XY suggested pragmatically. “I mean, there are two beds, and you look wiped, Dude.”

Luka took a very short second to consider this proposition. “If you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine with me,” XY assured. “There’s another bathrobe in the bathroom, if you want to get out of those clothes. Leather pants don’t look like they’d be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Trust me, they’re not,” Luka snorted, turning around and heading for the bathroom off of the entrance hall. “I’ll wash up real quick, and then I’ll be unconscious and out of your hair.”

“Take your time,” XY urged, enjoying the view of Luka’s backside as he trudged off.

Luka came out about ten minutes later in a bathrobe, his clothes folded neatly and tucked under his arm.

“I’ve never seen you without makeup before,” XY noted, intently taking in Luka’s features.

Luka hummed noncommittally, setting his clothes down on the dresser before making his way over to the spare bed.

“You’re still hot,” XY reported matter-of-factly.

Luka paused in the act of turning down the covers.

He hadn’t said it in a flirty or suggestive way. It was more like XY was just making a conversational statement than hitting on Luka, but Luka couldn’t help but think of the way XY had been flirting with him earlier.

Unless Luka had been completely wrong about XY’s motives for waxing poetic about how insanely gorgeous Luka’s eyes were.

“Thanks,” Luka replied politely, deciding that he was too tired to deal with this, so he simply wasn’t going to.

He got into bed and curled up on his side, back to XY and the light affixed to the ceiling in the center of the room.

“So…do you, like…have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” XY tentatively ventured. “I mean, are you seeing someone?”

Luka couldn’t decide if this was an awkward attempt at getting to know Luka or an awkward attempt at flirting with Luka. He wasn’t really sure which he preferred at two in the morning after three glasses of champagne and two glasses of whiskey. His alcohol tolerance was down, and he was too exhausted to figure the situation out.

“I’m not seeing anyone exclusively,” Luka allowed.

“But…you’re with that Adrien guy?” XY verified, fishing.

“We sometimes have threesomes together.”

It felt freeing to finally say it aloud. For so long it had felt like a dirty secret he had to keep locked inside, unable to acknowledge. Sometimes he woke up in the arms of the two people he loved most in the world…and then he had to go home to his own life while they went back to theirs. It was like a cloud of smoke, slipping between his fingers and disappearing before he could grasp it.

“And…who’s your third?” XY wondered, morbidly curious.

“Adrien’s wife.”

“Oh,” XY whispered, mentally piecing together the puzzle that was Luka. “But…you’re not exclusive? Like, they don’t mind if you sleep with other people?”

Luka snickered bitterly. “I’ll put it this way: they’d be jealous and hurt if I saw other people, but it’s not like they have any right to stop me. They are the ones who’re married. I’m just a fun addition sometimes. I don’t have to be faithful to them. What about you? Seeing anybody?”

Luka didn’t really want to be having this conversation. He wasn’t terribly interested in XY’s love life, but he felt like, if he had to answer these questions, it was only fair that he submitted XY to them as well.

“Nah,” XY sighed. “I’m not seeing anybody…unless my dad really does set up a publicity stunt and make me date that Poppy girl. It’s kind of hard to meet people you’re actually interested in when you’re famous.”

Luka considered this statement. Luka had been famous for the past five years, and, during that time, he had found it difficult to find a romantic partner not interested in him for his fame or money. Luckily, Luka had known plenty of regular people back when he was just a regular person, so, when he wanted to try to date (during the periods when he was actively deluding himself about being able to make a break from his feelings for Adrien and Marinette and have a fulfilling relationship with someone who wasn’t them), he had options.

Xavier-Yves Roth had been famous since his early teens, and, even before that, he’d been his father’s son, exposed to the limelight secondhand. Had XY ever had the chance to meet regular people and experience a normal relationship?

“But…So, you like both guys and girls?” XY prompted.

“Yeah,” Luka answered softly, wondering why he was letting XY in like this.

XY pursed his lips and continued to press, “Do you like either better?”

Luka snorted. “Honestly, Adrien and Marinette are pretty much the only two people in the world to me in that respect, and I love them both equally. Differently, but equally. I don’t really have a male/female preference. You?”

He expected XY to snort and laugh and swear up and down that he was one hundred percent male, so of course he liked women because that was probably the toxic masculinity and homophobic attitude that his father had filled his head with.

He was very, very surprised when XY answered quietly, “I kinda like guys better.”

Luka blinked and sat up in bed to turn to look at XY incredulously. “But…at events, I only ever see you with girls.”

XY shrugged. “Dad thinks it’s better for my image if I date girls. That way, girl fans will think about what it’s like to be with me while guy fans think about what it’s like to be me. Gay people are in the minority, so it’s more popular to be straight and market to straight people.”

Luka’s list of reasons to loath Bob Roth just kept growing and growing.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. But…what about what you want?”

“Well…” XY replied thoughtfully. “I want my stuff to sell because my music’s good now, so it would super suck if people didn’t hear it, but, especially lately, I kind of want you too, so…”

XY shrugged.

Luka stared at his roommate, trying to rehear the words that had just come out of XY’s mouth so that he could attempt to make sense of them.

“You…You want me?” Luka choked in an odd mixture of terror, delight, aversion, and intrigue.

XY nodded eagerly. “Yeah. So…what do ya think? Do you wanna get drunk and have sex?”

Luka’s eyes widened as a figurative bucket of icy water was thrown upon him. “What do people usually do when you ask them that?” he couldn’t help but wonder.

XY just shrugged, unwilling to admit that Luka was the only person he’d ever asked. “Or we could just have sex, if you don’t want to get drunk. I brought some really legit tequila from Mexico, though, so you’ll be missing out.”

Luka considered for a moment whether or not XY would understand the term “demisexual” or if that would only lead to unnecessarily complicated misunderstandings and stupid malapropisms that Luka wasn’t really in the mood for at two AM.

Luka cut to the chase: “I’m really flattered that you would ask, but I only sleep with people I’m in love with.”

XY stared at Luka intently for a minute. “Okay. Challenge accepted.”

Luka’s head tipped to the side as he leaned forward and frowned. “Wait. What?”

XY steamrolled right ahead: “So, if you don’t want to have sex, do you want to maybe make out and snuggle?”

He looked at Luka expectantly, a hopeful eagerness in his eyes.

“Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Luka had to wonder.

A pouty expression came to XY’s face, suggesting that he was not happy to be found out. Regardless, he shook his head in answer.

Luka took a deep breath, realizing that this was XY experimenting with his sexuality and trying to understand himself and find out what made him happy, irrespective of what his father told him he had to do.

That left Luka feeling a little stuck. It would be kind of crumby of Luka to shut the guy down after he’d opened up to Luka and shown vulnerability. Something told Luka that, even though XY had seemingly come a long way since the last time their paths had crossed, the guy didn’t regularly show weakness or vulnerability to anyone. What if Luka said no and XY never opened up to anyone again and ended up alone forever because Luka was feeling tired and a little too drunk to be making these decisions.

A voice in the back of his mind told him that he sounded like Marinette with all of his what ifs, but…

Suddenly, he remembered a night on The Liberty, sitting on the couch with sixteen-year-old Adrien in the early hours of the morning, snuggling and watching…Luka couldn’t even remember what anime it had been now.

Adrien looking up through drooping eyelids, asking in a scared, bare voice, “May I kiss you?”

After that, Luka had vowed never to be anyone’s sexuality experiment ever again, but…

“…Okay,” he decided.

XY’s face blazed with excitement. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Luka confirmed, kicking off the sheets and making his way over to XY’s bed to sink down on top of the covers.

“Killer!” XY cheered.

“Shot of tequila first, please,” Luka requested. “Then making out. Then snuggling. Clothes stay on.”

XY nodded enthusiastically, going to fetch the bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Sounds dope.”

XY filled both of their glasses and then handed one to Luka, careful as he climbed back up onto the bed.

“Cheers.” Luka raised his glass, and XY clinked his own against it before they both downed their shots.

Depositing the glasses on the nightstand, Luka looked back to XY.

XY studied Luka expectantly, nervously.

Luka reached out slowly, gently taking XY by the jaw and pulling him in for a soft, closed-mouthed kiss.

XY quickly got the idea, and their lips began to move together, the kiss deepening fast.

All things considered, XY wasn’t a bad kisser. A little too eager at times, a little too excitable, but that was okay because Luka could tell that this kiss meant so much more to XY than to Luka. After all, hadn’t Luka been a little overeager the first time he had kissed a boy?

After a few minutes, Luka carefully maneuvered so that, without breaking the kiss, he could lie down, carefully guiding XY down after him so that XY would be on top and not feel trapped or overwhelmed if he decided he wanted to stop.

In the back of Luka’s mind, a voice that sounded like Adrien asked, “Yeah, but what if you decide that you want to stop?”

Strangely enough, Luka didn’t.

Fifteen minutes in, it was actually shaping up to be a pretty good kiss. Luka could feel the alcohol blurring his mind again, making him forget the messy state his love life was in at the moment and allowing him to just enjoy the sensation of someone’s tongue down his throat.

Gradually, the pace slowed, winding down as XY settled in beside Luka, snuggling up and pressing gentle kisses to Luka’s cheek, chin, neck, shoulder.

“How was that?” XY asked nervously even as he tried to keep up a confident façade. “That was pretty ballin’, right? Hella sick, yeah?”

“That was good, yeah,” Luka confirmed. “A good kiss.”

“I thought I’d be good at it,” XY preened. “I’m pretty dope myself.”

Luka stilled. “…Was that…your first kiss ever?”

“Yeah,” XY replied a tad defensively. “Why?”

“I just thought that you’d have kissed girls before, so…I’m a little surprised. It’s not bad or anything, though, that that was your first kiss,” Luka rushed to assure.

XY shrugged, snuggling in closer and nuzzling Luka’s hair. “I’ve just never been interested in kissing any of the girls my dad had me date.”

A stray thought crossed Luka’s mind: “Maybe he’s demi too”.

That didn’t explain him wanting to sleep with Luka so soon, but…

“Why don’t Adrien and Marinette keep you around permanently?”

The question caught Luka off guard, leaving him taken aback.

“I mean, you’re really dope,” XY explained in a logical, reasonable fashion. “And you obviously love them. Do they not love you?”

He didn’t mean it cruelly, but it still hurt.

The pleasant buzz of the tequila instantly drained from Luka’s system. “They do,” he replied, voice cracking. He swallowed and tried again. “They do love me. It’s just…Adrien and Marinette are a complete universe unto themselves.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They don’t love me as much as they love one another, so sometimes I feel like I don’t fit with them, like there’s not enough space for me even though…”

XY lifted his head to gaze questioningly down at Luka. “Even though…?”

Luka sighed, pushing himself up and sliding out of bed. He went over to the dresser where he’d left his clothes and dug out his wallet, bringing it back to the bed. He fished out a photo and handed it to XY, setting the wallet down on the nightstand and slipping back under the covers.

“That’s Marinette and Adrien’s son,” Luka explained with a sigh.

XY studied the picture of a beautiful young woman and handsome young man holding between them a toddler with lovely black hair and clear blue eyes.

It could just be that the boy resembled his mother, but…XY knew those blue eyes too well to mistake them. He’d been seeing those same eyes in his dreams since the day Luka had stopped in the hallway of the television studio to give XY a speech that changed his life.

“He looks just like you,” XY muttered reverently.

Luka’s lips pulled into a sad smile. “His name is Hugo. I see him fairly often, at least once a week unless I’m out of town touring. I babysit a lot, but it’s not the same as really being a part of his everyday life…of their everyday life.”

“You’re not happy just being in a part-time relationship,” XY surmised softly.

Luka nodded, gently taking back the picture and carefully replacing it in his wallet. “They love me, but I’m not number one to either of them. Most of the time, it’s fine. What I have is enough because it is love, and we are a family, and I am happy, I really am. Sometimes, though…I want to pound my head against a wall because it’s not enough.”

“You deserve to be somebody’s number one,” XY whispered soothingly, as if validating Luka’s frustration and hurt and emptiness.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Luka laughed ironically.

“You’re a little drunk and sad,” XY explained so that Luka didn’t have to.

“Yeah,” Luka sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

XY lowered his lips to Luka’s for a languid, lingering kiss, and Luka didn’t protest, letting it happen.

He decided not to worry about it or judge his behavior. After all, didn’t everyone, at some point, get sad and lonely and end up making out with someone they barely knew just to get a taste of human warmth and intimacy?

It was just kissing, and Luka could do a heck of a lot worse for a partner.

Luka stirred several times during the short night, and each time he briefly thought that he was at Marinette and Adrien’s. Each time after he remembered, he wondered, “What the hell am I doing?” and contemplated getting up and going to sleep in the other bed. Each time, he ultimately decided against it and snuggled in closer to XY, letting himself enjoy the feeling of another person’s presence as he shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

At a little after half past nine, Luka woke with a throbbing headache, and the sunlight streaming in through the window would not allow him to get back to sleep.

If the sound of running water in the bathroom was anything to go by, XY was in the shower.

Luka contemplated his next move.

On the one hand, he kind of wanted to slink out and never see XY again because Luka had been a little drunk, and he vaguely remembered talking about Marinette and Adrien and Hugo, and that was never a good thing when Luka was in one of his melancholy moods (which had definitely been the case the previous night).

On the other hand, he also kind of recollected XY admitting that he had never kissed a guy before, never kissed anyone before, and even though the blonde was kind of dumb and seemingly indifferent about most things, Luka was betting that XY was experiencing some sort of feelings about the make out session and snuggling. It would be a jerk move for Luka to just run out after that.

With a sigh and some effort, he leveraged himself out of bed and onto his feet, grabbing the notepad and pen from the bedside table to write a quick note: “Sorry I had to dash. It was nice talking with you. I’ll call you soon about the collab.”

That accomplished, he put the note underneath XY’s phone so that it visibly stuck out but wasn’t in danger of being blown away.

He dressed in the clothes he’d worn the night before, made sure he had his wallet and his phone, and headed out.

He dropped the keycard in the return box next to the elevator and strode through the lobby of Le Grand Paris toward the front doors, coming to a halt as he noticed the flock of reporters buzzing about the entrance like a murder of crows, hoping to snap photos of celebrities from the party the night before taking the walk of shame.

Luka really didn’t want to go out there. He was hung over, tussled, and not in the mood for anyone to ask about his supposed affair with Adrien Agreste-Dupain-Cheng. He was kind of afraid of them asking with whom he’d spent the night at the hotel, afraid of them accusing him of cheating on Adrien on top of being a homewrecker.

He decided to wait it out a bit in the sitting area, hoping the crowd would thin and he’d be able to make his escape unmolested. He waited fifteen minutes, but the mob showed no signs of dispersing.

“Oh, hey! I’m glad I caught you,” XY called out, hustling over to Luka. He looked slightly out of breath, a little flustered.

“Oh, hey,” Luka greeted, feeling awkward. “Sorry for running off. I have a meeting this afternoon that I really wanted to get some things done before, so I was hurrying home, but there’s kind of a herd of reporters out front, so…”

Luka looked hopefully towards the entrance only to have the optimism kicked out of him when it appeared that the pack had only grown.

“I was hoping they’d go away if I waited them out a bit,” Luka sighed.

XY frowned in confusion. “Why don’t you just go the back way?”

Luka blinked dumbly. “Back way?”

“Yeah. Come on. I’ll show you.” XY motioned for Luka to follow as he headed back to the elevators and pushed the down button. “Tell your car to pull into that alley behind the hotel.”

“Uh…” Luka bit his lip. “I don’t have a car. But it’s fine; I’ll just get a taxi.”

XY clicked his tongue. “Dude. Don’t you have money now? I thought you weren’t poor anymore.”

Luka’s brow creased slightly in annoyance at the resurgence of a flash of the old XY. “Just because I have money doesn’t mean I spend it recklessly. Normally, I drive a motorcycle, but last night I got a cab to drop me off.”

XY shrugged, completely missing Luka’s defensive tone. “Meh. No sweat. You can just borrow one of mine.”

Before Luka could protest, XY pulled out his phone and shot off a text. “My driver will be there in, like, two minutes. Pretty dope, huh? I’ve got three drivers,” he boasted.

Luka was not impressed. Maybe it was the hangover, but XY was starting to rub Luka the wrong way again…except…he was being rather nice, showing Luka the way out and getting Luka a ride…even if he did it so obnoxiously.

XY started to prattle on about his miniature fleet of cars, and Luka sort of tuned out, mostly missing the substance of what XY was saying but still nodding along to the words and adding “oh, really?”s and “wow”s in the pauses. That seemed to satisfy XY.

Thankfully, they reached the back door in under ten minutes, and the car was ready and waiting to take Luka home.

It was then that he felt a little bad for being so short with XY. The guy really had done him a favour…and was a good kisser.

“Here we are. George will make sure you get home.” XY motioned to the car as if he were unveiling…well…a car, but as if he were on a game show or something.

“Thank you,” Luka replied with genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it. You really saved the day.”

“All in a day’s work, Citizen,” XY assured as he flexed comically, showing off his muscles in a cartoonish way that made Luka wonder whether or not XY were serious.

Luka gave a soft chuckle, thinking, “What a dork. At least he’s cute.”

The thought kind of caught him by surprise.

XY’s expression transitioned into what could probably qualify as serious for him as he turned back to Luka, asking hopefully, “I’ll see you again soon, yeah?”

Luka was a little taken aback by XY’s sincerity. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll give your music a listen and call you about a collab. For sure.”

XY’s face exploded into a firework of joy.

“Rad!” he cheered, leaning in and planting a sloppy kiss on Luka’s cheek. “I’m super stoked!”

Luka could only nod and wave as he went over to the car, climbing into the backseat in a daze as he tried to sort out what exactly was happening in his life.

In his distracted state, he accidentally gave the driver the address of The Liberty instead of the flat he lived in half of the time.

He didn’t stress about it. He had bigger issues to deal with.

#LuXY #luxyweek2k20 #Lukadrien #Lukadrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #ML #Luka Couffaine/XY Roth #Luka Couffaine #XY #Xavier-Yves Roth #Mikau's Writings #Welcome to La-La Land

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years ago

Text

It’s The Avengers (02x10)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 2 Episode 10: Bloody Situation

Warnings: blood talk. The talk. No not THAT talk. But a talk nonetheless.

Word Count: It feels so good to have older cousins you can talk to about your daily struggles, your ailments, your passions and dreams. :)

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One of the cameras tried to focus on the card castles Sam and Bucky were intensely working on in the lounge, zooming in on their sweaty foreheads while they cursed each other to their respective doom.

"Bucky," Sam artificially gasped, "Hydra men are standing behind you!" Forcing Bucky to roll his eyes as he kept his metal arm steady to put up another stack.

"At least I don't have to pretend about your side. Look outside the window, Sam," he tilted his head towards the glass wall, "your family doesn't seem that proud of you." The camera focused on a couple of pigeons and crows sitting on the roof outside, cooing at the two frenemies, as Sam's eyes moved towards the camera, already tired for the day.

The meditative silence that both these men had been working in would be broken by their friends as they passed them.

"Look, Scott," Natasha mentioned as she and Scott came back from their training, the latter clearly in a worse condition with his face flushed and sweat giving his entire shirt another shade of blue, "they're building you summer homes."

"Awh-su-hum," he wheezed, his hands on his knees, "just make sure you get the plumbing right for the bathrooms."

"Go away," Sam raised his voice, while Bucky just furrowed his assassin brows.

Just when they thought they could relax themselves, Tony and Steve walked in.

"What the-"

"Really? Is this what I pay you guys for?"

A minute or five passed by as they continue making the third floor of the castle in silence.

"You do realise it'll take a mere huff of breath from me to let all fall down," Loki called out of the initially melodic quiet, leading Sam and Bucky to throw curses at him as Peter watched in horror.

"I swear to God I'll cut your hair off if you even breathe in my direction," Sam hissed.

"Walk away, snake!" Bucky growled.

Loki sipped his piping hot tea from your mug as he basked in the curses being thrown at him, exchanging a mischievous look with the camera while Peter looked at the masterpieces in admiration.

A few minutes later the camera turned to watch you enter the space from the Dorms, your eyes carrying slight bags of sleeplessness while the air around you seemed hot and heavy.

By now, everyone had settled down around the two men to choose one side and root for a winner.

"Morning, Y/N," Rhodey chimed as he stepped out of the elevator, "got any plans for the weekend?"

"Morning, Mr Rhodey," you greeted with your cracking morning voice still trying the find your way through the sleep, "I think I'll just sleep in, thanks."

Everyone sent a greeting your way while their eyes were still stuck on the competition.

Peter: Mr Lang, Clint and I have placed our bets on who will win. I think it'll definitely be Mr Winter Soldier Bucky with the good hair, sir. *smiles for the camera*

Scott: I'm rooting for Sam. *nods* He's intellectual, he knows how to manoeuvre through all the opponent's moves, he's...um... he's got a good pair of...eyes *nods head more furiously till he finally gives up* Bucky scares me sometimes.

Clint: I bet Scott is bettin' on Sam right now 'cuz I told him Bucky said he will squish all the ants that come his way. While he was asleep. *giggle-snorts*

Natasha: *raises her brow* Who am I rooting for? *gives her signature deadly smirk* wouldn't you like to know. *Doesn't blink till there is a rattle behind the camera and she's pressing her lips from giving away her enjoyment* It's neither of them *breaks eye contact to look at her nails*

"Hey, Y/N," Peter chimed in excitedly, "Mr Wilson and Mr Barnes are making castles out of our Cards and Against Humanity set. Who're you betting on?"

The camera focused on your butt rising over the kitchenette slab to reach on the other side for something. Your irritated tsk displayed you didn't really find what you were looking for, only to turn around and walk towards the crowd.

"I dunno," you muttered half-heartedly, looking at anything but people's faces.

"Would you like to make card castles?" Tony asked you, receiving a judgment stare from Steve sitting next to him.

"No," you replied under your breath as you reached the space where everyone was sitting together, your brows clearly having a tense time.

"Really?" Steve commented at Tony.

"What," Tony shrugged, "can't I spend some quality time with my daughter? Right, Y/N?"

Your eyes went towards the mug in Loki's hand. He noticed the trail of your stare too. And without so much as a fuss, he handed you the mug.

"Careful, it's hot," he warned you softly, making almost all eyes turn towards him while he went back to watching the tense house-construction, taking his sweet time to notice those eyes still glued at him.

Tony: *scrunched nose carrying a grim and confused look* I don't know. *looks at the camera* watching Loki be *raises brow* sweet just...ugh...*feels a current of disapproval go through his entire body*

"I am going to wreck you, Buck Buck," Sam commented.

"Not before I stab your hard work with my smart work, Sammy boi," Bucky spat back.

The camera panned in on the blankness hovering over your face as you looked at the two soldiers share what they thought was good insults.

You: *still blank* lame.

Taking in a deep breath you made the entire lounge go silent when your hand swung back before coming to destroy the entire four floors in the air, your flat voice going, "lame." Jaws dropped down one by one while two voice went gasp from behind you; everyone trying to contemplate what happened. Everyone except Natasha and Loki.

Natasha: *looking at the camera with the same look except for this time with a smirk* *raises a hand to show the wad of twenty-dollar bills that fans her face*

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't break your phone right now," Sam's low voice was the first thing to break the intense current inside the air.

"Because you are a p-"

"OKAY!", "All RIGHT!" and "Holy sh-" broke the lounge before you could complete the sentence as Bucky and Sam tried to let your words seep into their skulls.

All this time Natasha and Loki were having a gala time while Peter was looking at them with an unadulterated mix of surprise and horror and Scott was just plain confused.

Bucky: *trying to reduce the blood flow in his cheeks*

Peter: *spreads his arms in a questioning gesture* Where do they get that kind of confidence?

Scott: Why did everyone jump up? All she was going to say was 'Because you are a pure heart'. Damn! *scoffs* *looks at the person behind the camera* ...What.

*Scott and Peter turn to look at Bucky for answers*

Bucky: *still trying to reduce the blood flow in his cheeks*

"Y/N! What the hell?" Tony's voice sloped down as he looked at you with a hint of shock in his eyes.

Your barren features took a one-eighty and your eyes went at the scattered cards lying across the table and floor. "I...I..."

"It took us four hour-"

"I'm sorry okay!" you shouted, putting the cup between already awaiting palms of the God and run back to your room, your eyes glistening just the right amount for the camera to catch it.

Ten Minutes Later

"What the hell just happened?!"

Sam looked at Tony while Bucky watched the cards with the hope of watching them resurrect themselves again.

"What do you mean what the hell happened?" Loki chimed as he sat down beside Scott, giving an already befuddled Stark another layer of perplexity, turning to anyone who would back him up on this.

"Oh, I am with Loki on this one," Natasha raised her shoulders and crossed her arms, giving Tony a mini heart-attack while everyone in the room watched on.

Tony: When Nat sides with someone in the room you should know that she has recognised that said person has the balls to stand up enough for her to have an opinion about them. *sighs* I cannot believe I get to see Loki be that guy. *falls silent to contemplate as he becomes a lump in his chair* What, is Clint on a sabbatical or something?

Steve: What the hell kind of team-up is this? *scoffs* *expressions go blank* wait a minute. *American resolve glistening over his face* Did Loki brainwash her?

Loki: *eyerolls* *sighs with hands crossed over his chest* *looks deadpan into the camera* No wonder he is still a virgin.

"Okay," Tony broke the eerie silence- that was judging both Loki and Natasha- with his index finger standing in the air, "I get the game was the worst past time these two could think of but do not tell me you have some absurd explanation for Y/N's behaviour!"

"It's not that absurd, really," both chimed in.

"I mean," Loki shrugged most casually, "isn't it obvious?"

"What is obvious here?"

Natasha tsked and rolled her eyes at Tony, offending him quite visibly.

"By the Norns," Loki raised his voice just a smidge, "she is bleeding her innards out, Stark. She is undergoing her monthly bodily changes."

The camera swivelled through the silence towards the kitchenette, where Pietro stood half shocked with marshmallows falling out of his already stuffed mouth.

Pietro: I did not see that coming *eyes wide with shock*

"She is menstru-"

"All right!," Tony cut him in the middle, growing uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, "Okay! Enough! I get it! She's ...she...she's got stuff going."

"Menstruating," Nat and Loki synchronised again much to Tony's discomfort.

Tony: *rubbing his palms all over his face, trying to get rid of the embarrassment* uuuugghhhhh!!!!! *removes hands and sighs* This is disgusting *shakes head* Loki and Nat agreeing? *feels a jolt of displeasure go down him, forcing him to wiggle where he sits* ugh! *nearly sobs* I'm gonna get sick.

Scott: Ohhhhhh!!! So that's why! For a second I thought she was possessed by my teenage self or something. Phew! Thank God for that.

"What," Loki looked Tony dead in the eye, breaking the creepy silence in the lounge, "don't look at us like that. Captain and Sergeant know it too."

Every pair of eyes and camera took a one-eighty towards the incredibly flushed faces of Steve and Bucky trying to dissolve themselves in the sofa while hiding their faces behind their palms.

"What?" Scott blurted out in the heat of the moment, "Y/N shared her PMS blues with you two? I thought I was her go-to man!"

"I'm sure you still are, Mr Lang," Peter chimed in, not able to take the hurt on Scott's soft face.

"Your super-hearing," Natasha broke the conversation with a tone of realisation, looking at the embarrassed old men, "that's how you know, don't you? No wonder you always let me choose the movies on blood nights."

"So that's why you didn't say anything to Y/N, just now! You knew!!!" Sam shouted with the comprehension. "You let me nearly throw hands at her, you dumb racoon!"

Bucky slipped further into the sofa while Steve tried to come up with words of reasons but clearly fell short.

Natasha: I always knew something was up with these two. *camera pans in on her face* I waited for my cycle last month just so I could get these two morons to pay for Clint and my pizza night dinner. *smirks**turns to her side* Oh come on! *nudges the person sitting beside her* get over it already.

*camera pans out to show Clint's horrified eyes looking into oblivion*

Clint: I just want bleach from my mind the fact that that horned God knows too much. *utter disgust shining on his face* way too much.

Nat: *turns to the camera* *sighs* *camera zooms in on her* Men.

One Hour Later

"Yeah," Sam muttered as he mixed the contents of his coffee. "I get we screwed that one, but I still cannot wrap my head around what you two have been keeping to yourselves this whole time."

The camera turned towards the duo of Steve and Bucky sighing and looking up at Sam from the lounge, tired and wanting the conversation to stop.

"Jesus, Sam," Bucky spewed, the irritation concentrating between his brows, "it's not like we asked for it, okay."

"So you guys what," Scott interrupted with a curious whisper, "hear all that...that blood thing in the uteruses shed or something?"

"It's like-"

"Like any muscle inside the body sounds to us," Bucky broke through Steve's narrative, the camera following his eyes, which were following your movement as you walked to the elevator, got in and went to the rooftop, letting him breathe while Peter and Scott looked at each other and the camera with judgmental stares for Bucky.

Bucky: It's like hearing an animal devour another animal.

Steve: Like a dragon roaring really low. The most dangerous kind.

Bucky: Play that sound to yourself in the middle of the night while you go for a glass of water and find a woman sitting in the dark in front of a television that isn't turned on. *camera pans in* You won't be able to sleep for two weeks.

Steve: *looks at some invisible void with mild horror* *whispers to Bucky* Natasha?

Bucky: *shakes head* Wanda.

Steve: *surprised* Oh! *gently pats Bucky's back*

Bucky: *nearly whimpers as he speaks in squeaks* Her eyes glowed! Her eyes!

Rooftop

"Go away, Javier," you declared with not much strength as Javier seemingly came up and out over the stunning rooftop that housed a garden, a pool and even a bar. You sat over the grass with your back to the camera and the sun, your head resting over your arms locked upon your folded legs.

"Listen to her. It's more entertaining downstairs, anyway."

The voice came from behind the camera, making it turn to find itself staring right into Loki's chest.

Loki walked towards where you were, your head still low, and sat down beside you turning once to check whether Javier had left. Clearly, he didn't catch the camera recording from behind the bar a few feet away from where you had planted yourself.

"Here," Loki took something right out of the air.

You picked up your head quite unwillingly and stopped short at the sight of the glistening wrapper in his hand.

"That's...that's...where did you get this?"

"Peter and Natasha told me that chocolates make it easier for some people," he answered, raising his hand for you to take it. Which you did.

That isn't some ordinary chocolate that Loki gave me today.

You looked at the God, who busied himself into looking at the horizon in front of the two of you.

You: That was...is my favourite chocolate. No one could've just known that. Especially not Loki.

You tore open the wrapper and broke the bar into two, giving one to Loki.

"Oh, I don't-"

"Try it," you didn't budge, "you'll like it."

Loki scoffed, about to say something when his eyes met yours, forcing the camera to zoom in more to bring your faces in the frame, watching Loki observe the certainty in your eyes before taking his share.

"Cheers," you softly declared, hitting your piece with his and biting into the softness. Loki imitated you, slowly chewing his share with pure judgment before his brows released the doubts, his pupils dilated enough for the camera and his body relaxed.

Loki: She knows some decent sweet snacks. I'm surprised how is Clint still sour after living in her company for so many days?

*another voice* It's the coffee he drinks.

*camera pans out to reveal Natasha opening another one of your favourite chocolates to share with Loki*

The Lounge

The elevator dinged and everyone watched in mild amazement when you came out giggling at something Loki said.

"Oh my God!" you announced with wide eyes as you crossed the space to go sit down beside a very flustered Sam. "You two can hear my insides dying! How cool is that?!"

Steve looked at you with pure blankness over his face before his eyes wandered towards the camera. "There's...nothing cool about it, really," he muttered, barely audible.

The frame caught you shifting towards Sam, who sat upright the moment he felt the centre of your attention.

"Hey, I'm sorry for ruining your game," you apologised, biting your lip, trying to sound as sincere as you possibly could.

"No problem," Sam stressed with periodic nods, "i-is there anything you want? Anything I can get you?"

"Oh, um...no I'm cool. Just in need of a hug that isn't warm and sweaty. N-No offence!"

"None taken."

Scott didn't even turn while he looked at you with his signature grandmother smile. "Hey, Loki," he shouted, "Y/N needs a hug from you."

Loki hadn't even breathed in when Tony stomped into the lounge.

"No one's hugging her," he declared, becoming the first witness to watch your face lose a shade of its shine as your smile slowly faded away.

"I didn't mean tha-hold on jus-PETER GET THAT THING IN ALREADY!"

Everyone looked at the direction of the corridor from where Tony had just come in to see something giant enter the room.

All air left your lungs while curses filled the air from every single person sitting in there.

"HOLY SHIT," you seemed to have lost your voice, "IT'S BAYMAX!"

Peter peaked from behind the positively bloated robot.

"It fisted me!"

"What?" you, Tony, Scott and Sam broke the party to look at Peter in horror.

"Yeah, we fist-bumped each other and I even taught him a new handshake!"

No room had breathed a sigh of relief like these guys did while Steve and Bucky looked at them in diluted confusion.

"You better not be pulling that Christmas, Tony."

Pepper entered from behind Peter, walking towards you to give you a hug.

"How's little Morgan doing?" you cooed at her belly which had swollen more than the last time when everyone had seen her on the wedding night.

"She is doing well and now I can feel her excitement too. I felt a kick last night."

"Okay now take your Baymax and hug the hell out of it," Tony announced, gesturing you towards the cute wellness robot, breaking Pepper away from you to give her a kiss and get her to ‘sit down already’, only getting a ��did you just order me?’.

Later That Day

The camera caught puffs of smoke coming from the corridor of the dorms till it caught Scott burning some kind of incense.

Scott: It's lavender. It'll help keep Y/N's nerves calm. The kid has already gone through so much. Though it's nothing I thought she at least deserves a frustration-free period.

Clint and Pietro were coming back from a sparring session covered in sweat, making jokes at each other.

"Good work on the footwork today kid. I told you using your brain instead of just your feet will work wonders for ya," Clint gesticulated with a light laugh.

"Ha ha," Pietro mocked him. "Shut up, old man."

Pietro playfully punched Clint's arm as they were walking the length of the corridor before stopping at the sound coming from the room nearest to them.

"Hey!....stop it........hurt.......shit..........no!"

"That's Y/N's room," Pietro whispered cautiously to Clint, who took a step towards the door with a nod.

"Is she okay?"

Clint shushed Pietro.

"Loki! Stop! I'm gonna die!"

"Mother-" Clint clicked opened a door and paraded in with Pietro right on his heels.

The camera caught a very baffled Loki and you staring at the visitors while your hands hung in the air. Holding gaming controls. The game on the screen opposite you still going on.

Loki's hands went down but not before he paused the game. His green eyes were looking directly at Clint.

"Don't you ever get tired of doing this, Barton?" his silky voice questioned Clint's sanity.

"One of these days I will have a reason to break the door and break your nose, snake," Clint said after a long pause of contemplation.

You and Pietro exchanged a confused look and a shrug.

"Um....what is going on?" you finally spoke.

"Nothing," Loki didn't bat his eyes away from the archer, "just the Hawkeye's very very bad luck of being at the right place at the wrong time."

He finished with a killer smile.

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castillo-adrian · 4 years ago

Note

Catharsis: (n.) release of emotional tension. Lara, the GIGN, or your choice.

“The faucet is dripping.”

He sat on the sofa, eyes fixed on a mole-shaped blackish-crimson stain on the hardwood floor. Adrian wondered what it was.

“What?” Lara looked at him in confusion.

“I said, the faucet is dripping.”

Johnathan and Lara looked at each other, both equally puzzled, why the hell it mattered at all that the faucet was dripping in a random safehouse out of hundreds they owned, and probably would never step back in again.

“I should take a look.” Adrian stood up, rubbed his palm against his stubble.

“Right. I am going to talk to that idiot detective Presley again, make sure he has his story right,” Johnathan stepped away from the window he was leaning against and headed towards the exit. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The stain, Adrian realised, was clots of dried blood that had stuck to Johnathan’s boots and then fell off.

The rest of the loyalists slowly left, too, whilst Adrian was rummaging around, looking for a wrench and a screwdriver. Eventually, he did. He took off his leather jacket and neatly rolled up his sleeves.

It brought smile to Lara’s lips. If anyone was placed in a similar situation where Adrian was, their instinct would be to grab a sledgehammer and smash something to pieces. But not Adrian’s. His instinct was to fix things.

“Adrian...” she spoke gently, “It’s okay to let it out.. at least once in your life.”

“Can you pass me the crescent wrench?” he removed the handle on the faucet and exposed the cartridge.

“You haven’t said a single word about what happened. It’s scary how cool and collected you’re being right now,” Lara pushed through his attempt at ignoring the subject.

“Lara, the wrench.”

But instead of passing the tool as requested, she held it up in the air. Adrian’s nostrils flared a little bit, he turned away from the sink and tossed away a cloth he was holding. For the first time in the years of knowing the Rutherford heir, he wished Lara would shut the hell up and leave him alone. Instead, he did. He went to the other room and gazed out of he window into the foggy London night, from the spot where Johnathan stood ten minutes ago.

Adrian clenches his jaw, refusing the recollections of the night come to the forefront of his mind. But eventually, they break out of the firm mental grasp of his.

He sees Évelyne, throwing herself between Johnathan and some low-level French loyalist whose name Adrian didn’t even bother to take note of. He sees the brutal fight between her and Johnathan. They’re locked in. But it’s the treacherous stab in the back by one of the assassins-in-training on Adrian’s team that kills her. It was Amaya, he thinks. Before grief, it’s the unfairness of it all that stops him in his tracks, his body taking over, pulling the trigger on the French loyalists who’re trying to swarm him, whilst his mentally still processing the scene that unfolded in front of him.

He sees Laure, leaving bodies of Rutherford and Russian loyalists in her wake, slowly and steadily making her way towards him. This is the same woman he used to love with the intensity matched by only his love for his family, she was his family, and he – hers. He knows only one of them will walk out of the fight alive and for a solid few seconds he considers to let her point her gun at his heart, but the survival instinct prompts him to grab her wrist and take away the same monogrammed pistol he gave her on her 30th birthday.

“Whatever you think of yourself, know that we all appreciate you. Respect you. More than the French ever would. Your place was always meant to be with us, Adrian.” Lara’s resolute words cut through the silence. “You made the right choice for yourself, and your friends should’ve never considered you traitor for that.”

“What do you know of the choices I made? Right choice for myself...” Adrian suddenly snapped. He rested his forehead against the window, the glass felt cold against his skin, brought a sliver of comfort, before he dropped his hands on his hips and turned towards her. “Merde alors! C'est incroyable.” His native tongue slipped through in the moment of frustration.

“It’s okay to grieve... but don’t let regrets consume you. If anyone can get through this, it’s you,” Lara took tentative steps until she was close enough his face to cast a shadow on hers.

He sees himself, breaking free of Laure’s chokehold, putting her on the ground whilst he stumbles upon his feet, briefly assessing the damage they both inflicted upon each other. “Even if you kill me, they’re not going to let you leave,” he mutters, “let me help you escape, Laure. Think of your kids –” the mention of her children enrages Laure to the point where though her broken ribs, she still jumps on her feet and delivers a blow. “Oh, now, you remember you have a godson?” She snarls, “No, thanks, I’ll take my chances.” Of course she doesn’t agree to his offer. It was a doomed Hail Mary. Adrian can’t quite place how much time has passed up until the fateful moment. He sees Laure swinging her blade aimed at his heart, he sees his own hands twist hers, the one she’s holding her knife with. He sees Johnathan, who came out of nowhere, holding a gun on her head. “No,” Adrian hears himself speak.

“It has to be me.”

He sees knife piercing the flash, he sees his hands pressing down on hers, plunging the blade deeper in her heart.

Adrian had fought all night from that point on, not to relive those moments. He’d been successful, too, until Lara tore down his defenses. Anger spread all over his body like a wildfire. Oh, he knew, his attempts at pushing down something of that magnitude was trying to attach a band-aid to a gushing wound. He knew, he couldn’t shut out the fact that he had murdered one best friend and watched another die.

Suddenly, he felt nauseated. He didn’t want to be one of them anymore.. or of anyone, really.

“I’m done. Tell Johnathan I quit.” Adrian spoke through closed eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Lara snapped back. “You’ll deal with this head on, and you’ll be fine. I know that.”

“I’m not one of your little pawns, Miss Rutherford,” he said coldly. “You can’t wrap me around your little finger.”

“Was never my intention,” she shrugged. “I’m just telling you how it’s going to be, not because I want it, but because I know how strong you are. As I said, you made a choice to be one of us, and you are.”

“You know what,” Adrian bit his lip, “My life would’ve been so much simpler if you were never in it.”

“Is that so? Fine, then. Go, leave,” she pushed him away, pressing both of her palms on his chest.

“Yes. Yes, it is. It all started with you. Because I couldn’t pull the trigger when I saw you next to your father, I couldn’t kill a man in front of his daughter. Look where that got me.” He looked down on his hands, as if Laure’s blood was still on it.

For a moment, Lara fell silent. How was it possible that all the secrets Adrian had shared with her, made him more human? Wasn’t it usually the other way around with people?

“Don’t put this on me, Adrian. You got much more from us than you’d ever get from them. You did this for you, and you need to come to terms with that,” she said and closed whatever distance was left between them, “Oh, and you resigning? I think not.”

“I don’t really care about what you think.” He hissed.

“And I don’t really care about how you feel,” she snapped back immediately.

Adrian had no idea how he lost control at the sight of her puffing her chest, lips drawn in line, delivering a verbal blow, shooting daggers with her eyes, but he did. Before either of them could’ve realised what happened, he pulled her close, and as the blood in his veins rushed towards his heart, sending his pulse through the roof, his lips rushed towards hers. The battle between head and the heart lasted a millisecond and the latter had come out triumphant. Forty-two years of self-control was suddenly forgotten. His hands were on her back and on her neck, and for a few seconds more, Adrian allowed himself to give in to his desires, until he got hold of his emotions again.

Adrian pulled away, but his hand lingered tangled in her hair for a little bit more.

“Well, then,” he spoke in-between his heavy breaths, “I’ve got that damn faucet to fix.”

#feat. Lara #feat. Laure #feat. évelyne #okaaaaayyyy #Anonymous

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savory-n-sweet · 6 years ago

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May I Have This Dance?

requested by anon: 011 and 012 with racetrack higgins?? thank u ur writing is amazing!! :)

pairing: racetrack higgins x female!reader

words: 1.9K

warnings: smoking, its long as hell

princess au (you’ll get it once you read, i promise)

2017 | 1992

edited | not edited | skimmed

this has been in my drafts for so long?? like i’m talking MONTHS. but anyways enjoy. reblogs are always appreciated!!

- - -

racetrack higgins was nowhere near being a prince, or even someone that hung around royal families. his friend jack, however, was. they had paid jack to paint a mural, and he invited race as his plus one to the reveal party. race was unsure of going at first, but once he found out about you, he decided to give it a shot.

he was sitting at a round table next to jack. they were both in suits, but race’s was a rental. jack owned his, though it wasn’t tailored like everyone else’s. his pant legs pooled around his ankles, making him look shorter. however, the two of them were enjoying themselves. they were cracking jokes and engaging in pleasant conversation with the other members of their assigned table.

race felt extremely out of place. he was a poor kid while everyone else in the room was filthy rich, practically showering themselves in money. the guests were in fancy ball gowns and tailored suits accompanied by even fancier jewelry. he was insecure, more so than he’s ever been. the only accessory he had ever owned was a silver watch his father gave him.

suddenly, a hush fell over the room. he noticed the guests move out of the way, and immediately fall silent. he stood up and brushed off his pants, purely out of habit.

then, he saw you. he saw you in that dusty pink, glittery gown. he saw your smile and his heart fluttered. he watched you descend the stairs in awe. you walked with such grace and poise.

when he noticed you walking towards his table, his palms instantly went sweaty and his mouth dried.

“hey jack,” you hugged the shorter boy, smiling on his shoulder. you let go of him before noticing the drink in his hand. “what’re you drinking?”

“scotch,” he handed you the glass. you took it and downed what was left.

“thank god. planning these balls are so stressful,” you sighed, placing the glass on the table to your side. you looked over his shoulder, noticing race. you walked around jack, holding your hand out for race to shake. “hi, i’m (y/n).”

“uh, yeah i, uh, i know,” he took your gloved hand and shook it. he was extremely thankful you wore gloves tonight.

you laughed, looking down at your shoes, still shaking race’s hand.

“kid, tell her your name,” jack coughed from behind you.

“race,” he cleared his throat and let go of your hand. you smiled, glancing from your burgundy heels to his blue eyes.

he was beautiful. his curly blond hair, his deep blue eyes, and his tan skin were absolutely stunning. you assumed he was your age, maybe a little bit older. he looked like a deer in headlights at the moment, though.

“oh! jack told me about you!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting his shoulder out of sheer excitement.

“what? why?” he swallowed rather loudly. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, but you thought it was cute.

“when i invited jack, he asked to bring a plus one. when i asked who, he told me about you.”

race didn’t look any more relaxed. in fact, he looked more terrified.

“oh, don’t worry! he said nothing but good things, i promise,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, a dopey smile on your face. “i just hope you live up to those good things.”

“i’m gonna get something to drink. you kids want anything?” jack winked at race causing him to blush heavily.

“surprise me,” you said.

“whiskey?” race requested. “you have whiskey here, right?” he looked down at you.

“we have just about everything,” you grinned.

about an hour later, the three of you were having the time of your lives. race had had a few glasses of whiskey, causing him to relax quite a bit. you were seeing more of his smile as well as his humor. you had relaxed a bit too. the conversation never seemed to dull. the three of you were telling stories, jokes, and race even showed off how many peanuts he could catch in his mouth. race was showing off in general. card tricks, magic tricks, you name it. you loved it though. it was nice to be able to be yourself without having to worry.

“i’ll be right back,” jack excused himself, placing his napkin on the table. you looked to race, then grabbed his hand.

“wanna get out of here?” you raised your eyebrows, smiling like a maniac.

“where are we gonna go?” he furrowed his.

you got up and dragged him through the crowd. the two of you dodged too many people to count, waiters included. you ran, with him in tow, out of the ballroom and up the grand staircase. you lead him to a room far down the indoor balcony, pushing him inside first. you closed to door behind yourself, promptly locking it.

“it’s just quieter up here. and,” you pointed to your balcony doors. “fresh air.”

“it’s pretty in here. your room?” he questioned, looking over your knick knacks and photos. he held a ballerina figurine in his hand, examining it before moving onto the next thing.

“yeah. hey, do me a favor and unzip me?” you turned around. he nodded, doing so. you pushed the sleeves off your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. “god, this thing is suffocating.”

race covered his eyes and looked away. “hey! i’m still in here! don’t you want me to leave or something?”

“race, i still have the underdress thing on. it’s fine,” you smiled when you saw him peek through his fingers. “but you can stand on the balcony or wait in the hall if you’d like.”

“i’m gonna go on the balcony,” he stated as he walked toward the doors.

“okay! i’ll grab you once i’m changed.”

once he was out there, he lit his cigar. he leaned against the railing and thought for a bit. he knew two things; he absolutely loved spending time with you, and that you were very far out of his league. he didn’t know what to do or even if he should do anything.

“hey, you can come back,” you popped your head out beyond the doorway.

he didn’t look back at you. he kept his eyes focused on his cigar he kept flicking with his thumb. “give me a minute?”

you nodded, closing the door. it took a few seconds before you stepped onto the balcony. you threw a blanket over race’s shoulders, getting close to him so it covered yours as well.

“don’t want you to get cold or anything,” you smiled up at him. he smiled lazily in return, bringing the cigar to his lips. “so, how do you know jack?”

“we work together,” he shrugged. you nodded, sensing he didn’t want to talk about it.

you leaned against the railing as well, propping your head on your hand. you closed your eyes as you listened to the song below. it was fairly muffled, only becoming clear when someone walked onto the patio below. one of your favorite slow songs was playing, causing you to smile softly.

race looked at you, smiling when you did. he put out his cigar, placing it in an inside jacket pocket. he got out from under the blanket, then held his hand out to you.

“may i have this dance?”

you raised your eyebrows, then giggled. you took his hand and stepped closer to him.

the two of you swayed to the music, slowly inching closer to one another. by the end of the song, your head was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around your torso. you felt safe and comforted right there, in his arms. you never wanted to leave them.

the song ended, but the two of you stayed like that—in each other’s arms, swaying. you sighed in content, a small smile on your face. you closed your eyes, taking in the smell of his cologne.

race rested his chin on the top of your head, holding you close. he didn’t want this to end. he knew that once he left, there was a rare chance he’d ever see you again. he held his wrist high enough he could see it and checked the time.

“hey, i actually have to get going,” he mumbled, disappointment lingering in his voice. “i’m sorry.”

“what’s there to be sorry for?” you asked, following him to your bedroom door.

“leaving,” he shrugged. he was really apologizing for his thoughts. race wanted to kiss you, right then and there, but he knew it was inappropriate. he just met you, barely an hour ago. he knew life wasn’t like the movies, especially his life. nothing came easy for him, so why would this?

“you don’t have to apologize. i’m sure we’ll see each other around,” you smiled as you leaned against your doorframe.

“i hope we do,” he smiled, too.

it had been close to a week since you last saw him. you couldn’t get him out of your goddamned head. everything about him was wonderful. you wanted to learn as much as you possibly could about him, but you couldn’t even find him. so, you ran to jack.

he was sure to know where to find him. you assumed they were close, so you hoped he knew. if he didn’t, you were back to square one.

you found yourself in miss medda’s theater, searching for her or jack. you made your way backstage when you saw jack on the top of a ladder, painting a backdrop.

“oh, thank god. jack!” you jogged towards him. you had never been happier to see someone who was covered in paint.

“hello miss (y/n). what’re you doing over here?” he looked down at you. there was a small smirk playing on his lips.

“do you know where i can find race? i need to speak with him.”

“sounds serious. everything alright?” he asked as he climbed down be shaking ladder.

“yeah, everything’s fine,” you nodded. “do you know where he is?”

“he’s in the bathroom,” he smiled, pointing behind you. “can i have that brush?”

you handed it to him, unsure of what to say. so, you looked at what he was working on.

it was a woodsy scene. it was unfinished, but still beautiful. the sun was setting behind the trees, giving them a faint orange glow.

“this is stunning, jack.”

“thank you. it’s taken me about two days so far. i’m hoping to be done by tomorrow.”

“jack, who’re you talking to?” a familiar voice mumbled.

you turned around to see race. he had his cigar dangling from his lips while he was trying to tuck in his dirty, paint stained shirt.

“hey,” you smiled once he looked up.

“(y/n), i-i didn’t know you were gonna be here,” he took the cigar and put it in his shirt pocket. “i would’ve dressed up.”

jack snorted from next to you, then quickly covered it up with a cough. you smiled, shaking your head.

“you’re fine, race. can i, uh, talk to you?” you nervously picked at your fingers.

“yeah sure,” he gestured for you to follow, and you did. you were farther backstage with more props and equipment. “what’s up?”

“this is going to sound weird, and maybe a little crazy, but i can’t stop thinking about you. you’ve been in my head since the night of the ball and you won’t leave.”

he smiled and shook his head before pulling you into a hug.

“wanna go on a date sometime?” he laughed, still holding you.

“yeah, that’d be great,” you laughed into his chest.

- - -

[ tag list: @brooklyns-here-for-ya-erster @kingofsantafe @who-is-the-king-of-new-york @thwiparkers @newsies-trashboat @notes-the-newsie @musical-trash-meg @rebecko @princeandreis @we-dont-sell-papes @brooklyn-anon @viennaleia @fandomscraziness22 @broadwayandbookblog @i-got-personality @king-of-newyork @heytheywascoronas @elmers-half-a-cup @papesandcigars @the-kid-blinks @purplelittlepup

n my hype beast @supremebesson ]

#racetrack higgins #newsies #newsies live #mentions of #jack kelly #racetrack higgins x reader

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ladyshiranui · 6 years ago

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Survival of the Jolliest

Aaaaaand a VERY merry Christmas to @kyotowinds !! I apologise for my delay, and also the LENGTH of this story. But when thing lead to another and I just couldn’t help myself. I hope this story is to your liking! Thank you so much for helping me put together @hakuokisecretsanta2018 for the Hakuoki community. You’re SUCH a good friend and I’d love to organise something with you again in the future! LOVE YOU CHI <3

He darts between the supermarkets in the early Christmas Eve buzz. There must be something she’ll like, he thinks to himself as he scans over every possible gift. There’s the generic snow-globe, or maybe a nice decoration for next year’s Christmas tree, or even a box of chocolates. But none of them are jumping out at him, no. He wants this year’s present to be special. Specially special.

But what the heck do you buy for a girl?

In amongst the hustle and bustle, he bumps into a familiar face.

“Wha-- Souma?”

“Oh, Toudou. Good morning,” the college intern simply replies, placid as always. “Looking for presents? You’ve left it awfully last minute, haven’t you?”

“I know, I know, but I have no clue what I should get! What about you? Why are you here?”

Souma’s face changes from indifferent to irritated. “Nomura found the present I got him, but re-gifted it thinking it didn’t belong to anyone. Now I have to look for a new one for him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s your roommate in the dorms.”

“Please, don’t remind me.”

Heisuke reaches into his pocket when he hears his text tone. Seeing it’s a reply from one of his favourite people in the world, his lips can’t help but curl as he reads the message history.

FROM: YOU

“It’s Christmas Eve! (ᗒᗨᗕ) Do you want to do something today?”

FROM: CHI

“Totally! Any ideas?”

Heisuke scratches his head as if to trigger some idea generator. Souma watches as his face becomes increasingly determined, almost angry looking, before it snaps to utter deflation. It’s quite the spectacle to any passer-by, watching so many emotions on the human face happen in only a few seconds. Souma doesn’t doubt he’s the most expressive person he’s met, quite the contrary in contrast to his own temperament. How is she friends with both of us, Souma wonders as he sees who the text his from. We couldn’t be anymore different. What a fascinating girl she is.

“Looking for a present for Chi, I’m guessing. Do you… need some help?” Souma forces himself to ask.

“No way! I don’t need help! I know exactly what I’m doing! I know… exactly… what’ I’m…”

“You don’t.”

“I don’t… But if you help me, that’ll make it from you instead!”

“I think you’re being a bit dramatic, Toudou.”

“Am not! Ah, never mind that. Now I have to think of something fun to do with her. And it has to be really fun!”

Souma stands there, contemplating. His face is a serious one, but when isn’t it? Only a select few get to see the hidden side of Kazue Souma. Those fortunate to have laid eyes upon this mythical smile of his say that it truly is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Not even Nomura has had the honour of seeing it, and he’s been his friend through thick and thin. One can only assume these lucky people must be incredibly special.

“Why not something simple? Like… build a snowman?”

“But everyone else is doing that.”

“Make gingerbread?”

“But that can’t be the only thing we do. It’ll be over too quick!”

“Go to the tree-lighting ceremony?”

“But that’s at night—”

“Are you going to say ‘no’ to everything I suggest? I really am trying to help you out here.”

Heisuke whines. “I don’t know, man. I just really want to make it the best Christmas ever for her.”

“Well I can’t come up with everything on my own. I don’t have time to run around for you—”

“Wait, Souma…” Heisuke suddenly interrupts. His eyes have a twinkling glow, like a light bulb just went off in his head. “You’re a genius!”

“I am? What do you—w-whoa!”

The intern is suddenly dragged away with a force so strong he has no choice but to follow. Heisuke’s grip on his arm pulls him away from the market place as his heart becomes set on an idea he cannot let go. Preparations have to be made immediately.

…

Wrapped in fluffy apparel, she paces the park borders in her winter boots, kicking up the freshly fallen powder. It’s nice that it’s a white Christmas this year. Always a nice touch to the holiday festivities. She watches as loose snow in the leaves above her gracefully float to the soil in a white sprinkle, a few flakes sitting themselves on her glasses. She takes off her frames and wipes them clean with the sleeve of her coat.

When she places them back on, she sees him standing in front of her. He has a far-off look in his eyes, like he’s in a euphoric daze, as she prances over to him in greeting.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” she eagerly asks.

Heisuke fiddles around in his pocket until he pulls out two crinkled bits of paper with all kinds of things scribbled in an extremely messy fashion. “Here! I made a list of the things we have to do before midnight hits,” he says before handing Chi a copy.

“Cool! …So, what are we doing?”

“Hear me out; I know you hate running, but we’re going to have a race.”

“A Christmas race?”

“Yeah, exactly! And some other guys said they’ll join in too, so it’ll be even more competitive!”

“Great! Who’s joining?”

“You’ll see,” Heisuke smiles mischievously.

Seeing Heisuke practically glowing as he spiels his great plan to her made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Whenever he was in high spirits, she would be also. She couldn’t wait to see what was in store for them, though she did hate the idea of running long distances.

After some time passes, two familiar faces call out from the distance with their arms waving. Nomura, on the left, carries two brown paper gift bags while he runs ahead of whom he is with, Souma.

“Yo, Heisuke, Chi!” Nomura comes to a halt in front of them, propping down his belongings before reaching inside of both and pulling out two cameras from one. “Thought we could use these! You know, as proof that we’ve done each thing!”

“Whoa, polaroids!” Heisuke awes. “Good thinking! This is gonna be awesome!”

“You have to promise you won’t break them,” Souma strictly warns. “I can’t believe you talked me into using them, Nomura. You’re the last person I’d trust with something so expensive in your hands.”

“Nah, don’t be such a sourpuss! I’ll pay for a new one, don’t worry.”

“With what money?”

“You’ll lend me some, won’t you buddy? That’s what friends are for!”

“Nomura, you—”

“Okay! Let’s sort out teams!” Chi quickly interjects before Souma drags Nomura through the winter tundra. “Who’re the captains?”

“Oh, me! Me! I’d be a great captain!” Nomura shoots his hand in the air like a student in a classroom.

“I think Heisuke and Chi should be the captains,” Souma suggests otherwise. “This was Heisuke’s idea after all, and things would be more interesting if you two are versing one another.”

Chi looks to Heisuke, his eyes showing a hint of disappointment. But it doesn’t take long for him to perk up once more with a fierce determination in his eyes. “Alright, you’re on!” he shouts proudly as he declares war. “Nomura, you and me! Let’s do this!”

“Aw yeah, bring it on! We’re going to crush you guys!” Nomura throws his arm around Heisuke’s shoulders, the latter doing the same. They have their game faces on, already emitting an aura intimidating enough to certify Chi’s belief that she has absolutely no chance at victory.

But being paired with Souma has its perks. She always thought of him incredibly handsome and wished to acquaint herself better with him since his new presence around the school. It’s not very often Hakuo High takes on interns, and he remains a mystery to her still.

Souma mumbles underneath his breath, a white cloud of frost escaping his lips. “Toudou and Nomura on the same team surely doesn’t bode well.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got his, Chief.” Chi encourages. Souma’s silvery eyes meet her chocolate brown ones, his irises reflecting the puffs of falling snow. She feels her face heat up and quickly turns around, fearing she may have been staring for too long, and averts her attention to elsewhere.

“Alright, whatever you say,” he grins behind her back.

The time to begin the great race was approaching, hearts thumping with the rising adrenaline in their veins. More families had flooded the park now, the spirit of Christmas prominent in the air. Really, there’s nothing at stake, there’s not even a real prize, but with Heisuke and Nomura’s horsing around and hyping up the atmosphere, it suddenly feels like this race is going to be more than what anyone anticipates. More fun? More dangerous? Who knows. It could be either one, really.

But there is only one way to find out.

“Ready, set—”

“GO!”

Like predators going in for the kill, Heisuke and Nomura sprint off, camera in hand, down the street.

“Wait, where are they going?”

“Oh, the list!” Chi quickly takes the paper from out of her pocket once more, struggling to decipher what on earth Heisuke’s handwriting is trying to say.

“I think the first one says… ‘Santa’?”

“We need to find a Santa Clause!”

“Ah, Chi! Wait for me!”

But Chi is already barrelling down the street in desperation to not lose Heisuke from her sight. The frosty winds hit against her face as her hair and coat flow behind her like ocean waves, Souma watching her from behind as he jogged by means of keeping up.

He holds his camera delicately in his hands, wondering if he can somehow manage to get a good enough shot. Slowly, the camera is positioned just below his eyes. He plans his steps accordingly while he continues to jog, ensuring he gets the timing exactly right, until he at last freezes his movement for one solitary second with a firm foot in front. He taps the shutter button and waits for the photo to print before picking up pace again. The photo hasn’t revealed itself yet. He’ll have to check it later.

Chi insists Souma hurries up, and he does, now feeling a little more enthusiastic about taking part. With Heisuke and Nomura still in sight, she leads the way as she traces their footsteps, hoping that they’ll be able to get there first before they do, wherever ‘there’ may be.

“Chi, wait,” Souma stops her. “Come this way. It’ll be faster.”

“What? The mall’s that way, isn’t it?”

“The markets are this way. A Santa Clause was there this morning while I was picking up some things. We’ll be able to find one before those two.”

The tables turn with Souma taking the reigns as he leads them through the crowds of the nearby markets. He was like some secret genius with a trick up his sleeve, saved for the perfect time. Souma suddenly look really cool from behind, Chi thought. He seems to favour displays emotional disinterest, as though him showing any emotion at all would damage a reputation of his, or at least something of a similar nature. But she knows he’s having fun. I mean, if he paid attention to where he saw some random man dressed as a fat man in a suit in his morning, he must be enjoying himself somewhat.

“Found him!” Chi proclaims as she sees a big red Santa hat above the heads of the crowd. She pushes her way through, only to find a giant line of kids waiting for their turn on Santa’s lap. “Great. Now what?”

“Well, you definitely can’t push in line. We’re bound to get an earful of angry parents otherwise.”

They look around the vicinity, wondering if there’s some way they could slither themselves in without getting into trouble. The murmurings of the townspeople flood the air with noise, making it nearly impossible to hear one’s own thoughts. Just as the two were to resign to their misfortune, a sparkle of hope reveals itself at the photo stand.

Souma points out a boy in an elf hat, looking to be an appointed crowd-controller for the kids. “Isn’t that… that guy from the Student Council? Susumu Yamazaki?”

Chi immediately makes her way over to him, waving her hand in the air to grab his attention that little bit sooner. His face transforms into a tomato in point-five seconds when he sees Chi stifling her laughter as best as she can. Why did he have to see someone he knows…?

“Ch-Chi? Souma? What are you two doing here?”

“We’re in a race and we need a photo with Santa. You gotta help us.”

“You… want a photo with him? I’m afraid you’ll have to line up.”

“Can’t you, I don’t know, sneak us in? It’ll only take two seconds! Please, please please please?”

Yamazaki doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t say no. Instead, his face is stuck in furious contemplation, as it normally is, thinking if making himself look silly is worth it. His eyes flick back and forth between Souma and Chi, seeing how truly eager they were for something as random and immature as wanting a photo with a stranger in a white beard. He doesn’t know much about Souma, but he’s close with Chi in school—it’s hard to say no to her.

Which is why he trudges over to the main staff, back straight, trying to appeal to them for his friend’s sake. The staff look behind Yamazaki, an inquisitive look on their faces as the request is proposed. Chi smiles when she catches the single approving nod from the head. Wasting no time at all, Chi is already standing next to Santa by the time Souma has the polaroid ready to shoot, who is absurdly tall to Chi’s surprise.

“So, why are you two doing this? Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be taking photos with Santa?”

“This was all Toudou’s idea,” Souma sighs. “I didn’t get much say in the matter, so now I’m caught up in the competition.” He peers into the view finder, getting the perfect angle while a couple children in front of him begin to cause commotion. With a satisfying click, he takes the picture and lets it print into his fingertips. “Why don’t you join us? I’m sure Chi would enjoy your company.”

“I can’t. It’s my job to volunteer in the community. I can’t simply drop everything to play a game.”

Chi prances back to them as Souma puts away the camera and holds the first picture of the race in his hand. “What’s next on the list?” he asks.

Chi holds the crinkled paper in her fingertips, getting an earful from whiny kids at the same time. But she pays no mind to it. “Head to the school and make a gingerbread house in the cooking club’s kitchen… I’ve never tried gingerbread before.”

“You haven’t? Not even during Christmas Time?” As if he can’t be even more confused than what he already is, his eyes squint as though to reprimand.

“How are we even meant to get into the school? It’s finished for the year. It’s all locked up.”

“Yeah… Unless Heisuke thinks he can break in through one of the windows.”

Yamazaki listens to Souma and Chi go back and forth. All the while, his shoulders slump, hearing this nagging echo in the back of his head saying “Do it, do it, do it, do it—”

“I have keys,” he finally admits.

“What? You do?”

“I am part of the student council, after all. Saito left me in charge of them when he left on holidays.”

“So, you’ll come?” Chi claps her hands together. “Come on, it’s Christmas! It’ll be fun! Having an extra team member will be a huge help, too!”

Giving in at long last, Yamazaki removes the striped hat from his head, his hair sticking up with static, places it on the ground and walks away.

“You aren’t going to tell them?”

“I’ve embarrassed myself enough already. I think it’s best I go silently.”

Having no idea where Heisuke Team is, the three hurry for Hakuo High. It isn’t hard to commute to, but the busses are so packed with passengers they can hardly hail a transport that will accept three extras. One, two, three busses go by, filled to the brim with travellers. Having to accept that walking might have to be their best option, they do just that.

“Surely we’re behind at this point,” Souma sighs as the front gate finally comes into view. But to their pleasant surprise, the gate hasn’t been opened at all.

“Maybe not! Yamazaki, where’re the keys?”

The student council member reaches into his shoulder bag, shuffling through its contents to try and hear for the familiar clinking noise of the metal. His face slowly loses colour the longer it takes for him to find them, and even more so when he checks his pockets, only for them to be empty.

“No. I always keep them with me… Where are they?”

“Oi. Looking for this?”

All three heads turn around. Behind them, two blue-haired delinquents strut up to them, stray curls falling from their tied-up hair. The one with the longer hair carries a bag from what looks to be from a toy shop, while the short-haired one holds the keys in his fingers. Their clothes look hip and their faces look smug. But Chi knows them. She knows they’re more than what they seem.

“Yo, Chi,” they both greet the girl.

“Shiranui, Sakamoto, what are you two doing here?” Yamazaki mutters, knowing full well how much trouble this duo has caused among the order of the school, to be kept in place by the student council itself. Yamazaki is less than impressed to have to bump into these fellows on this fine winter day.

“Well, we did follow you all this way to give you back your keys, but I guess we don’t have to if you don’t want them—”

“No, give them back this instant,” Yamazaki demands from Sakamoto. He attempts in clumsily catching them when tossed into his direction but drops them. The boys scoff.

“So, what brings you back to these parts? A little unusual to want to do homework during Christmas, isn’t it?”

“We’re doing a race. We have to get into the Cooking Club.”

“A race, huh?” Sakamoto and Shiranui look at each other in amusement. “Sounds cool. We’re in.

“I don’t know if you can really invite yourselves into this,” Souma tries to reason.

“Why not? It’s Christmas~” Sakamoto walks up to the gate and unlocks it himself with a hair pin. A wide toothy grin spreads across his face like a child lying that he stole a cookie from the cookie jar. “It’s a time for togetherness, right? We could help you guys win.”

“I’m cool with it,” Chi shrugs as she looks to her other teammates. “The teams might be uneven then, though. It’d be too much of an advantage—”

“Oi, Sakamoto, you’re on the other team.”

“What? You wound, Shiranui. I thought we were comrades.”

“Every man for himself,” Shiranui smirks.

The now group of five shuffle into the should-be restricted boundaries of the school grounds, apart from the delinquents marching ahead like it’s no big deal to them. Unlocking one door after the next, they delve deeper into the dark, abandoned hallways. They echo with every click of a heel, every tap of a toe, every “are you sure we should be doing this?” of a whisper. The group navigates, trying to remember where the heck the kitchen is.

Once they finally find it, they peer in the door’s window.

“No one’s here,” Shiranui states, being the tallest. “What’re we breaking in here for, again?”

“We have to make a gingerbread house. I’ve never made one before though, so—”

“You’ve never made gingerbread?” Sakamoto raises his voice.

“She’s never tried it, either.”

“What? What’s the matter with you?” Shiranui pinches her cheek, like a mother disciplining a child.

A sudden click of a door makes them all jump. A door briskly slides open, and from the other side steps a puffed out Heisuke and Nomura, plus the red-head teacher everyone who attends Hakuo High knows and loves.

“Oh? How the heck did you guys get in here before us?”

“I have a key to the school, sir,” Yamazaki quickly defends himself before the blunettes can wantonly admit to their criminal activity. “The council president left it in my care while he’s away.”

“What? Yamazaki? And you two?” Heisuke points to each fresh face. “Why do you have so many team members?”

“What, we can’t have some fun, too? Besides, I’m on your team now,” Sakamoto says while he folds his arms. “Don’t you worry, kiddo. I’ve got this in the bag for us,” he says as he ruffles Nomura and Heisuke’s hair.

“Alright you lot, let me open the kitchen for us.” Harada squishes past through the crowded hallway, him and Shiranui locking eyes in banter. “There’s left over mix from the Christmas festival in the refrigerator, so go crazy.”

As soon as the door slides open, both teams sprint inside and grab as much mixture as possible. The P.E teacher empties his bag of goodies he picked up along the way, full of candies and other treats to dress the houses in diabetes. They set their bench spaces up, each team talking strategy on how to best approach their designs. Shiranui, of course, says to go buck wild since “it isn’t like it’s a beauty pageant or anything.”

Each team waits impatiently as the houses cook in the oven. Nomura’s restlessness gets the better of him and cranks the oven fifty degrees higher than the recipe says without anyone looking. It cooks them faster all right, but at the cost at having soggy charcoal gingerbread due to the fire sprinklers being triggered from the huge cloud of black smoke.

“Please, don’t eat this, Chi. This is not what gingerbread should look like,” Souma whispers to her as he drips with water, similarly to everyone else.

Mr. Harada’s head snaps up. “Chi doesn’t know what gingerbread looks like?”

“She’s never made it before.”

“What? How is that possible?”

“She’s never tasted it, either.”

“WHAT!?”

Chi and Nomura are nominated as the icing makers for their respective teams, wasting no time in caking their architecture in white glaze to hopefully transform the sludge piles into the sweet glory they’re meant to portray. Both teams aggressively throw candies all over the wet frosting before it dries, hoping whatever sticks will somehow allow it to resemble an actual candied household of sorts.

“Okay, we’re done!” Shiranui announces.

“What? You can’t call it a house without a door—”

Shiranui sticks his finger into the sludge pile, creating a perfect hole. “There, now it has a door. Hurry and take the picture already,” he urges Souma. After sharing a quick glance at Chi, as though to ask, “should I just do it, or…”, he takes the shot and prints the photo.

Shiranui starts pushing his group out the door, more determined than ever to win the race now. Sakamoto and Nomura start yelling demands at Harada and his OCD, the teacher just wanting to make the perfect door to show off his craftsman ship. The long-hair bluenette sees this and smirks evilly.

“Shiranui, what are you thinking…” Yamazaki sees the evil in his eyes. He doesn’t like this.

Shiranui reaches his hand into his shopping bag, pulling out what looks to be a fake gun, a NERF Gun to be exact. From the doorway, while the enemy is preoccupied, he loads in a bullet, aims his pistol, and pulls the trigger, unleashing his fury unto Harada’s design. In a depressing heap, the house crumbles and falls apart.

“Shiranui, you little…!”

“Don’t think you’re going to get away with this!” Mr. Harada shouts while the former pulls everyone out of the school grounds. The game is well and truly underway.

Racing all around town, the teams follow the list accordingly. Next on the list is twirl in the ice rink, which Shiranui was unexpectedly well practiced at, make a snowman with some kind of clothing, which Yamazaki sacrificed the warmth of his gloves to get the job done, find a couple kissing underneath a mistletoe, find a decorated tree in someone’s open window, buy a Christmas drink from a café, and all kinds of other bits and bobs. As both teams knock off each target one at a time, a lovely collection of polaroids are at the photographers’ fingertips, having forever captured the best moments of everyone’s Christmas Eve.

The day was getting late with the golden sun setting behind the distance urban skyscrapers from several towns over. Time was nearly up.

Holding the list in his hands, Yamazaki reads off the second-last task. “It says ‘Buy and wear a Santa hat’.”

“Where are we gonna find one of those?”

“No chance we can buy one,” Shiranui folds his arms. “All the gift shops are well and truly closed. We might’ve lost this one.”

“Surely we can find one somewhere,” Souma replies. “We’ve come this far-- we have so many photos. Perhaps we can ask someone who’s wearing one?”

“Where on earth are we going to find someone wearing a Santa hat?” Chi mumbles.

Just as the words escape her lips, a man with incredible stature collides into her smaller frame, sending her stumbling back several feet with her glasses crooked on the tip of her nose. Looking up at the monstrous figure, she scrunches her nose in disdain, as does the rest of her team.

“Takeda.”

“Watch where you’re going, insects,” he bellows, his merlot hair flicking in the wind behind him. There’s only one person everyone knows that has longer hair than the school delinquent Shiranui, and that’s the man that stands in front of all of them—the student that’s never graduated and has stayed back one too many years. It’s obvious why, too; his attitude stinks. The gossip mongers claim he has a face so punchable, yet so intimidating none can approach for the very reason. The words live to their name. It just sucks because he’s really pretty.

“What’re you doing out here?” Souma interrogates. “Bringing about more mishap?”

“How dare you accuse me of child play. I’ll have you embarrassments know that I am a man of pride and honour, so watch how you speak in the presence of greatness.”

“That means nothing off the school grounds, you know. You’re nothing but the rest of us ‘common-folk’.

“It matters not the circumstance. People will learn to fear the name Kanryusai Takeda and obey my every command, like a filthy dog at the mercy of an unshakeable flea.”

“Wow. To call yourself a flea? Even I wouldn’t sink so low,” Shiranui scoffs.

As Takeda continues his egotistical monologue of his supremacy, Souma’s eyes notice something from underneath the man’s abnormally large jacket. He spies a red fabric with a white cotton ball hanging from the end, not dissimilar to the very thing the group needs to find. He subtly taps the side of Yamazaki’s arm. His eyes follow his, and he sees exactly what he’s talking about. Yamazaki passes it on to Chi, who passes it on to Shiranui. The latter sees the jacket only remaining closed with Takeda’s hands gripping its hems.

“I’m gonna shoot him.”

“Don’t you do it, Shiranui.”

“Come on, the guy has what we need! It’s not like I’m killing the guy.”

“Which will allow him to kill us in return.”

“Not if we run fast enough.”

“Shiranui, don’t you dare—”

He’s already loaded, aimed, cocked and fired, smack bang in the middle of Takeda’s big ugly forehead.

“Wha—What in the!?” His arms fly open, underneath revealing a Santa Clause suit, the hat falling to the floor.

“Quick! Grab it!”

Like a ninja, Yamazaki plays hero, swooping down low to the ground before Takeda has the chance to grab him by the scuff of his neck, swipes it from the ground into his hand, and leads the way as everyone else runs after him, including Takeda.

“I’ll be darned if he was the Santa Clause I took a photo with.”

“You’ll regret this, low-lives!” He shouts from afar.

“Who even talks like that?”

“Him, obviously. But never-mind, just go!”

Once catching up to Yamazaki at the front of the chase, Chi and he match pace as their feet dig into the icy ground beneath them, navigating their way to the final destination; the Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony. About to compliment Yamazaki on his secret ninja skills, she doesn’t watch her footing and finds herself slipping and sliding all over the place. Yamazaki in turn reflexively grabs a tight hold of her arm, steadying her once more as their pace picks up again.

“Hang on to me, Chi. We can’t have you falling behind now.”

“O-okay, sure!”

The crowd grows larger the closer they approach, the excited chatter of eager children to see the beautiful lights grace the town once more in this fine 2018. It’s hard not to bump into anyone while in such a rush, and so both Chi and Yamazaki look behind them to ensure their team is accounted for. However, they see they have lost one member.

“Where’d Shiranui go?” Chi calls back to Souma.

“He’s keeping Takeda busy, but keep going! Here—” Souma removes the camera strap from around his neck and stretches his arm out to pass the torch onto Chi. Once she grabbed a tight hold, Souma gives her an approving nod before he too is dragged into the chaos of the crowds.

The duo’s speed doesn’t slow for a second, not when sweet victory was so close they could taste it. But the space was getting thinner and harder to navigate through, making it nearly impossible to run side-by-side with someone, let alone walk.

“Chi, take the hat!” Yamazaki throws the item over the heads of multiple people he’s already found himself stuck behind. Chi jumps as high as she can, catching it with the tips of her fingers. “Get to the tree! You still need to take the photo!” He yells out to her before his voice drowns in the rest of the town’s populace.

It’s just her now—the last man standing.

Come on, come on, where’s the tree?

She looks all around, trying to spy the giant pine in the heart of the city. She finds herself going against the flow of the crowd, and instead changes her direction to move with the tide, hoping it’ll lead her to where she needs to go. Bells ringing, carollers singing, children laughing, lights twinkling, it’s a beautiful night to behold.

At long last, she emerges from the crowd, completely out of breath. Even without the lights on, the tree that stands tall and proud before her is just as enchanting as what it is to be. Her eyes scan the area, looking for her own team or the opposition. There, directly in front of her vision, on the opposite side of the great tree, she sees Heisuke, also wearing a Santa hat with the polaroid camera in his grasp. They spy each other and make quick work of weaving their way through to each other’s side.

“So, did you finish them all?” Heisuke asks.

“Yep! Well… except for one. We didn’t get to take a photo of one of us wearing a Santa hat yet,” Chi admits.

“Well here, let’s do it now!”

Heisuke takes the hat from her hands and delicately places it atop her head, fixing her slightly crooked glasses while he’s at it. She giggles at his ticklish touch as his fingers accidentally brush the side of her cheek. Madly blushing, Heisuke quickly takes his camera and holds it up to cover his pink face.

“Ready, aaaaand—"

Chi sees an opportunity and she seizes it. She holds her camera up at just the last second, the device flashing at the same time as his. Both photos print from their respective cameras, the images slowly displaying two of a kind. Heisuke is in awe, seeing how identical the photos are except for who’s on the other side of the lens. It’s a perfect moment captured.

“Hey, uh, sorry if this is weird but… can I have that one?” he shyly asks as he points to Chi’s photograph. “I mean, only if you don’t mind! You can have this one too, if you want!”

“Sure. It’s a deal,” she grins in reply. They trade photos, Heisuke beaming like a child on Christmas morning with his new treasured possession.

“Team Heisuke still wins, by the way. We got all the photos before you and got here first!”

“You so did not! We got here at the same time!”

“Then where’s the rest of your team?”

“Where’s your team?”

As the playful banter continues, they’re both interrupted by the voices of the town counting down in unison. Heisuke checks his phone in his pocket, the time reading 11:59pm.

Together, their voices join the fray, all eyes watching the great pine, hearts beating in anticipation for the magnificent display that’s to happen in only seconds. Heisuke’s veins are pumping furiously as he slowly outstretches his hand beside him. His fingertips brush her own, and at first she flinches, thinking the touch is from a stranger close by. But when she realises it’s from him, she accepts the gesture, and intertwines his fingers with her own. Once linked, she feels his hand squeeze happily as the seconds become fewer.

3… 2… 1…

“Merry Christmas!”

The people erupt in cheer as the tree ignites with a heavenly glow. Fireworks crack in the distance, filling the black sky with a plethora of colourful joy. To add further wonder into Chi’s night Heisuke dares to take a second brave step in the spirit of the moment and sneaks a quick peck on her cheek. She blankly stares at him, at a loss for words, while his gaze is intently fixed onto his shoes. Feeling giddy, she starts to giggle. Her laughter is so incredibly contagious that Heisuke can’t help but do the same.

Like the snow flakes above them, his nerves are carried away by the winter winds, both hearts feeling warm and just… right… in each other’s company this very moment.

“Merry Christmas, Chi.”

…

Elsewhere…

“Well, it looks like he beat us to her.”

“This was kind of the point to the whole race though, wasn’t it?”

“Aw, what? Come on. I thought there was a cool prize at the end. This sucks.”

“Ow! What did you shoot me for?”

“Just felt like it.”

“You gotta admit, they’re pretty adorable together, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah… Still kind of sucks though.”

#hakuoki secret santa #hakuokiss2018 #hakuoki secret santa 2018 #Hakuoki #Takeda Kanryusai #Toudou Heisuke #Souma Kazue #Yamazaki Susumu #Shiranui Kyo #Nomura Risaburo #Harada Sanosuke #Sakamoto Ryouma

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years ago

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Sugar Daddy Hanzo part 9

Hey guys, I’m sick as well as moving to a new town, so please forgive how short this chapter is. Just 2,500ish words. Hopefully, I can get the packing done soon and maybe get out another chapter this weekend. Take care, everyone!

BTW, this whole business world AU is based on my bud @watch-your-grammer‘s post here. She’s glorious and so is her work.

The rest of the story: pt one, pt two, pt three, pt four, pt five, pt six, pt seven, part eight

You rubbed your eyes as best you could without ruining your makeup and sighed. It felt as if you hadn’t had a good night’s rest in ages, not since the first time you and Hanzo had broken it off. Now, two months since Genji’s house party, you were still feeling crumpled and confused. Yes, the initial pain had subsided quite a bit, but your desire to be with him again was still raging like an inferno. As was your resentment at how terribly you missed Hanzo.

“Distractions,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped on your shoes, “I just need to be focused on something else. I’ll be fine. He’s just a boy, I’ll get over it.”

Which was worse, trying to force yourself to hate a man, or clinging on to every memory you had together like a desperate fanatic?

“Christ,” you hissed, “I’m starting to sound like Lori.”

As soon as you had tossed on your coat, your phone began to sing, and you smiled. “Hey Lucio,” you chuckled as you answered, “did you change my ringtone when I wasn’t looking?”

“Of course I did,” he laughed, “no college of mine is going to have a generic ringtone! Besides, ain’t you supposed to be repping me? Makes sense that you have one of my hits bumping out your cell every time I call!”

“Good point,” you nodded, checking your hair in the mirror one last time. “You here?”

“Yeah, I’m downstairs. You ready?”

“Be there in a sec,” you said, more cheerily than you had sounded in weeks. When your favorite client had surprised you at work the other day, things had instantly felt one hundred-times better. Lucio was always lively, excited, and willing to do just about anything to help someone have a good time. Which was where you came in. When he went a little over the top or stepped on a few toes with his . . . aggressive approach to philanthropy, you came in to smooth things over and convince media outlets to avoid heated words without knowing the facts.

“Lookin’ swanky, girl,” Lucio said as he waved you into his bright yellow sports car. “Those the frog earrings I sent you?!”

“Well of course,” you giggled, “they’re my favorite, and like you said, I’m here repping you.”

“Nice,” he said giving you a loud high five, “and might I say, you’re rocking that bright green dress.”

You flushed, “It’s not too much, is it?”

“No way! Just look at me,” he snorted, lowering his gold-rimmed sunglasses and gesturing to the shimmering golden equipment strapped to his legs. Even though he wasn’t the DJ at tonight’s event, the man wouldn’t be caught dead unprepared if the opportunity to ‘up the tempo’ arose.

“I suppose it’s not every day I get to go to a disco, so I may as well bring out the glittery go-go boots while I can,” you grinned.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Lucio cheered, pulling away from the curb like a wild man and cranking the radio, “Woo, let’s get this party started!”

As the two of you drove, Lucio chattered away almost nonstop, only interrupting his stories about his tour to bop along to the radio. He would automatically harmonize with any vocals, and his perfect tone gave you shivers.

“Is something up,” he eventually asked as he pulled up to the line for the valet parking, “you’re not usually this quiet.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you lied, eyeing the big Overwatch logo on the massive limo in front of you.

“Hey,” Lucio said, turning down the music, “come on, talk to me. That’s why you’re my favorite person to work with – you’re honest with me, no matter if I do great or if I really screw something up.”

You looked over to him and sighed. Lucio wasn’t just a client, he was a friend, too. The two of you had fumbled through the beginning of your careers together and backed each other up when things went haywire. He had helped you build an amazing resume, and you had helped him become a household name.

“It’s just,” you began awkwardly, “I kinda had a bad break up a while ago, and I’m really hoping he won’t be here tonight.”

“Oof,” he grunted with a grimace, “that’s the worst. You were right when you told me not to date that pop star, ended in a world of hurt and I have to see her everywhere! This guy, would he be here on the famous people end, or on the sponsoring end?”

“Sponsoring, I guess,” you said waving your hand at the Overwatch circle in frustration.

“You were dating someone with Overwatch,” Lucio asked somewhat incredulously. You nodded. “Well, at least you know how to pick ‘em. Was he a bigwig? Most of the time only bigwigs come to these things. And old friends,” he added, elbowing you gently.

“He’s a bigwig,” you groaned, watching as Gabe, Lena, and Mei all shuffled out of the back seat. Maybe you would get lucky and avoid having to share a room with Hanzo tonight, but that seemed way too fucking unlikely.

“See him,” Lucio asked, leaning around to try to get a better look.

“No, but his brother’s here,” you said softly as Genji waved to the cameras flashing at him.

Lucio leaned over the steering wheel and gave you a sad look. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

“It was a big, stupid, ugly mess,” you huffed. “I just want to get over it and move on.”

“Well that can be arranged,” he beamed, “all you gotta do is promise me you’re going to have some fun tonight, no matter if this jerk is in here or not.”

“How you do you know he’s a jerk,” you asked, slumping onto the armrest doubtfully. How could you enjoy yourself if you were going to be assaulted with Hanzo’s handsome face all night?

“The guy’s got to be a jerk, he let you go,” Lucio said with a wink, “and besides, even if he’s not a jerk we can pretend his is for the new couple of hours and rub our good time in his face. Because that’s what friends do – help their pals get dramatic revenge at fancy parties.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Lucio’s devious and cute smirk, “Alright, I’ll do my best to have a great time, no matter what.” Besides, it looked like Hanzo wasn’t going to show anyway.

“Hell yeah! First round’s on me,” he said sitting up in his seat and accidentally bumping the horn. The chorus from his current number one hit blared out and made the Overwatch crew jump. Lucio quickly rolled down his window and hung out the window. “Sorry ‘bout that!”

As soon as the paparazzi saw him, the crowd went wild with cheers and photographs and calls for his attention, which Lucio soaked up graciously. He waved and blew a few kisses before shouting, “Hey, how about these Overwatch folks though, am I right? Gotta love a group of people who’re trying to make the world safer.” With this, he plopped back in the driver’s seat and grinned at you. “Whoops.”

“Very good of you to put the attention back on Overwatch,” you laughed, “being humble is always a good look.”

“Just being honest, I really do have a lot of respect for those guys,” he said. “I suppose it would be rude of me to ask you to introduce me to some of them considering the circumstances, right?”

“Um, rain check,�� you asked bashfully.

“Next time,” Lucio agreed.

After a moment or two, it was Lucio’s and your turn to walk up the party, only there was much more shrieking and, ‘we love you’ shouts than Overwatch had received. So many fans fawning over your friend, all you could do was shake your head. However, when he looped his arm in yours to lead you to the door, you went bright red, and the crowd gasped.

“Uh, Lucio,” you said tentatively.

“Let them jump to conclusions,” he scoffed, “it makes for good news, and if your ex comes around I want him to know that he’s going to have to deal with me if he wants to bug you.”

A snort burst from you as you looked at Lucio’s incredibly un-scary ‘tough-guy’ face. “He’s going to be petrified,” you laughed.

“Hey,” he said, feigning being hurt, “are you saying I’m not formidable? ‘Cause you know I am.”

“You’re the best, Lucio, that’s what you are,” you snickered as you pulled him to the door.

The lobby was decked out in neon lights and fluorescent colors, making you blink involuntarily. “Damn,” you gaped, looking at the tie-dye carpet that led to the massive glass elevator, “they really went all out.”

Suddenly Lucio gasped and gripped your arm and shook you. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! It’s D. Va!”

“The pilot and gamer girl? Wonder what she is – Holy shit! She brought her mech?! That’s – ” you reeled.

“That’s the coolest fucking thing ever,” Lucio squealed like an excited little kid. “You think she’d let me say hi? Or is that weird and needy? Or too super fan-y?”

“Didn’t she tweet out a few months ago that she was super bummed she wouldn’t be able to see your show in Seoul and – ”

“And gave that ticket to one of her fans! That’s right! She’s badass and a good person,” Lucio said with a wide smile.

“Not to mention a fan of yours,” you said. “Go see her! I’m sure she’d love to hang out with a fellow ‘badass and good person’ like yourself.”

Before you knew what was happening Lucio had swept you up in a massive hug. “Thanks, girl! You cool on your own for a few?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said shoving him away playfully, “now go, goofball.”

He scuttled off and disappeared into the growing hub of party-goers waiting for the elevator. You headed to the catering table nearby to wait, absently looking at the twelve disco balls twirling above you.

“Pretty, isn’t it,” snapped a familiar voice from behind you. You frowned and twisted around.

“Lori? What the – what are you doing here,” you asked worriedly. Since the whole incident with Hanzo, you hadn’t seen much of her, especially after she got fired for pitching fits at work all the time and trying to sabotage your work. Judging by her enraged scowl, she hadn’t gotten over it.

“Watching the mother-fucking finger food,” she snarled, gesturing to her little apron.

“Oh,” you said, taking a step back, “I, um – ”

“You ruined my life,” she seethed, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward her.

“Lorelai,” you sighed, “I’m sorry about the way things went down, I really am, but come on, can’t we just put it behind us?”

“What,” she said with an unsettling laugh, “you want to be friends again? No way in hell.”

“That’s not what I want,” you frowned, “but I don’t think charging me at a party is necessary either. That, and you weren’t exactly ‘friend of the year’ anyway.”

“You stole my boyfriend! You’re the shitty friend,” she barked, dragging you toward a corner. The music was so loud her outburst hadn’t turned any heads, but the sudden confrontation had a few people looking on curiously. Lori had always been very good at causing a scene.

“Look,” you sighed, “will it make you feel better if I tell you we’re no longer together?”

“What,” she asked, her voice no longer filled with malice.

“Yeah, I broke it off,” you shrugged, “had to.”

Lori’s head dipped back as she laughed mockingly. “Bullshit! He probably dumped you, saw what a damned mistake he made with your ugly ass.”

“Believe what you want,” you said trying to yank your arm away from hers, “but it’s over, for he and I, for you and I, now leave me alone.”

“No,” she growled, shoving you toward the wall and reaching for her apron’s pocket, “we’re not done yet, you homewrecker.”

“Woah now,” a very tall woman said as she approached the two of you, “is it not a little early in the party for fights to be starting up? I have not even had a drink yet.”

The stranger tried to put a hand on Lori’s shoulder, but your former friend was quicker, pulling out a small handgun and pointing it at you. Before anyone had time to say anything, Lori fired a shot at you.

You watched in horror as the big woman snatched Lori’s wrist and twisted it behind her before pinning her to the ground. The woman was a beast, holding tiny Lori with one hand and shoving the gun in her waistband with the other as if it were nothing before looking up to you. “Are you al– pizda rulyu.”

Everything felt tight and wrong as you tried to take a breath. But nothing happened, at least not as it was supposed to. Everything hurt as you looked down and saw the blood pouring from your chest. But it couldn’t be yours, could it? Everything swayed to the side as you touched your breast and the blinding pain hit you. But the choking feeling in your throat was somehow even more oppressive.

Somewhere you could see flurries of movement and frenzied noises, but your mind couldn’t process anything but your inability to take a proper breath. You were so scared. And confused. What had happened? What was happening? What was going to happen to you? Were you – were you dying? You looked up at the faces trying to help you, but they only frightened you more.

None of them were familiar.

Where was Lucio?

Where was Mags? And the rest of the girls?

Where was your mom? Your dad?

Where was your grandmother? Your grandfather?

Where was Hanzo?

You wanted Hanzo.

You didn’t want to die without him.

Instead of words, you hacked out blood as you tried to ask for him, which made you panic triple, but your body wasn’t your own right now. It flopped about and trembled and leaked and sputtered without your control. Everything was so blurry and painful. You grabbed out for someone – anyone who could help you find someone you loved, but no one understood. They laid you down and tried to stop the bleeding and said things you were sure were kind, but nothing helped.

Everything hurt, and you wanted Hanzo.

That’s all you wanted.

To tell him he was an asshole for ever ruining what you had together.

To tell him he was the best sex you’d ever had.

To tell him he was a persnickety dick.

To tell him he was the most important person in your life.

To tell him he was an uptight grouch who was about to turn everyone away.

To tell him he was an incredible man for trying so hard to better himself.

To tell him he was a pain in the ass.

To tell him he was the only man you’d ever loved.

But you wouldn’t get the chance.

He wasn’t here.

And you couldn’t force yourself to stay awake any longer.

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @yesthisisbae @eebbapanda1@deercapitate @missbumblina @skyrina @justjaaaay@thewetbones @skyelentnight @ilovebva @punk-dork @cbrokeherboobs@sobanoodledragon @sydniesamm @honeyburger @knightofsexyness @queenoflabyrinths @speakingishard @iknowimcutethanks @ninevast @ivymarquis @sydniesamm @barbie-the-centrist @tumblertrash @angle0fthegourd @shaybae1997 @lillypet95 @rusty-potato @tt-nikithakppr

** please let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed from the tags in future updates and sorry if I missed anyone, I feel like tumblr is deleting my shit**

#overwatch #hanzo #hanzo x reader #sugar daddy hanzo #reader insert #mine #my drabble #overwatch drabble

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gigilberry-wips · 6 years ago

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20 Facts About Charlotte (and family) That The Readers Will Not Be Given In The Story

So here I am trying to organize my thoughts and do some character building in order to answer some questions about my oc that someone was very nice to ask and which I still need to come up with answers for, carry on with your business don’t mind me

(for those who’re sticking around to read this, a warning: this is long as heck)

1. Charlie was known as that kid who’d always be full of questions and giving the adults a run for their money “Why do crocodiles have big noses?” “Where does the moon go?” “Why don’t humans have claws? Aren’t they more useful than fingernails?” “Why do people sleep?” “Why are we supposed to do this? Why can’t we do that?” “Why can’t we ask questions? How would anyone learn things if they don’t ask questions??”

2. In her family she’s closest to her older brother. She doesn’t always share her concerns with him but when she comes to him with her thoughts and questions she trusts his words.

3. One time she read in a book where a meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup was described so delectably that for one entire month she insisted on having that at least once a day (it’s like what happened with me and when I read about the ‘bread and butterflies’ from “Through The Looking Glass” and now if anyone ever offered me a towering stack of heavily buttered toast with an ocean of horrifically sugary milk tea I swear I will devour the whole thing no hesitation). She stopped being so vocally fussed with them after that but she never really got over it. So if, whenever she might see either one of those two (or both!!) in the wilds, be it in person or on television or if she just catches the smell of it, and if you happen to be looking at her already then you just might catch her making The. Biggest. Heart Eyes. Like the love of her life has appeared before her and she is going to run into their arms and both of them will head off into the sunset.

4. Her favorite things to get on Christmas and her birthday are “fun science projects for kids”, or puzzle and strategy games, or books that had riddles, secret codes, recipes, more experiments, and especially made-up languages in them. She’s filled entire notebooks with the languages that she’s learnt from books, from Morse Code to Tolkien elvish, and she can easily recall many of them from memory. She knows a lot of the most common kinds of numerical puzzles and algorithms that have been used, and partially due to that and partially because of how good she is in math she frequently makes computer related jokes about herself.

5. Charlie’s brother is doing an internship at a nearby aerospace museum and planetarium. He’s currently studying for a degree in astronomy and engineering and works as one of the technicians there, and about once a month Charlie’s family goes to visit and have a picnic nearby and spend the day there. Since it’s so close, her brother is able to go from home and usually drops her and her friends off to school in the mornings in his old, beat-up car because he’s a good brother and he loves his sister.

6. One time when Charlotte was little (about 7-8) she was loaned a textbook from her school about famous people that she had to do her homework from. Her brother caught her scribbling in it with a pencil one time and found out that she was replacing all the pronouns of the historical figures in it (Mr. Miss Alexander Graham Bell, he she invented, Mr. Miss Albert Einstein, he she discovered, etc.).

(She didn’t really have the words for it back then but essentially she was doing this because all of these Oh So Important People Of History(TM) Who Did Oh So Important Things(TM) were different from her and she was very strongly aware of that and it made her really, really angry. She thought that if the only thing anyone was ever going to teach her was White Man History(TM) and that’s the only thing that ever existed since the dawn of time and that’s the only thing she’d ever learn then she wasn’t just gonna sit there and swallow that like the rest of her classmates, thank you.)

The next day he bought her a book about famous women in history from all around the world. She read it cover to cover and has kept that book with her to this very day. It’s got pictures like this in it too :D -

[image description] Three women (left to right: Indian, Japanese, and Syrian) who graduated from the Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania in 1886

This is also one of the reasons why she likes Star Trek so much, and why she wants to learn so many languages.

[Edit: if anyone’s wondering, her brother’s the one who erased the pencil marks from her textbook. He told her since she’s the one who did it then she should be the one to remove it. But she refused to do it and she did not say sorry either. He knew she’d get in trouble if he told his parents or anyone about it, or if it was left alone, so he sat down with an eraser and methodically went through the book with it himself.

Charlie neither offered to help nor stopped him (she could’ve if she’d wanted to, she had cheeto crumbs on her fingers and she could’ve smeared them in the book or poked her brother with them but she didn’t); she just attached herself to his side and quietly glared because that textbook is Enemy #1 and no one should touch it as his hand patiently went through page after page and removed all traces of her vandalism]

7. Charlie loves her hair. When she was little one of her favorite shows was My Little Pony (don’t tell anyone but she still has a soft spot for it) and she wanted to have bright, colorful hair just like the other ponies did. One of her cousins was very fashion savvy and when she told her this, her cousin showed her all the fun hairstyles she could do with her own hair instead. She’s been growing out her hair ever since. Now Charlie and her brother are Long Hair Siblings(TM). :D

8. On the other hand, Charlie despises make up. When she was little she noticed that almost the only people that were on make up advertisements were white women, so in her head she thought that meant those pretty women owned the make up companies, right? Well, she looked it up and learned that the people who really owned the companies were not those women but instead ugly old men and that was when she came to the conclusion that advertisements are all full of lies and not to be trusted (also she learnt later that silicone rubber is used in making water proof mascara and her brain is forever scarred with that knowledge and now so is yours :DD)

9. When she got her first loose tooth she heard about the tooth fairy and how she takes teeth and leaves money. So her natural course of action was to look up the price of human teeth online. Then she took the case up with her father and told him all about her findings and how the tooth fairy was basically scamming everybody and should not be trusted. He found this entertaining enough that the morning after she lost her tooth she found a 2 dollar bill under her pillow. She kept it away safely and once she had enough “tooth money” she bought a whole set of glitter gel pens with it.

10. The number of times Charlie’s gone to a party can be counted on one hand, and that’s only because she was forced to go. One such house she’s frequented is one of her aunt’s and after all these years the only name she knows from there is the cat’s, whose name is Toast but she thought that was boring so in her head she renamed her as Clementine. She hasn’t told anyone else that she’s never learnt anyone else’s name but she has the feeling her brother knows.

11. She loves cats. She loves them so much. She was always such a solemn and serious little girl but the moment she saw a cat it’s like watching a toddler wandering after a butterfly. Abso-lutely adorable. She has these knitted cat socks and 2 cat plushies (one more worn than the other) and when she was 11 her parents let her and her brother adopt an orange kitten and she got to name it Tigger after one of her favorite childhood characters. In her friend group there are so many cat puns surrounding her. So many. (half of them are her own btw)

12. Charlotte is bisexual. I remember reading somewhere that it’s unrealistic to just have one lgbt kid all by their lonesome in any story worth telling and I agreed with that. I’ve also heard about the “disaster bisexual” troupe. In my cast of characters the one that fits it the most is Josie, so me being myself I flipped that troupe and instead made the most calm and collected one the bisexual kid (so instead of a disaster bisexual(TM) what we have is a distinguished bisexual(TM), thank you and good night). It’s not mentioned in the story because this story is told from Laila’s point of view and Charlie hasn’t told anyone about her sexuality, not her friends, not her family, not anyone. She learnt about it earlier than Laila did (when she was 13), but like it’s said in her intro she’s a very cautious and private person and it’ll take her a long time to think about something so personal openly let alone talk about it with anyone. I want to talk about this more in a separate post, and I’ve got a one shot planned that’ll focus on this too.

(Edit: so it turns out Charlie is in fact a bit of a disaster human and when I told her she comes off as smart and polished and good at judging people’s intentions she turned around and told me she also hisses under her breath at things she doesn’t like, lives in her room like it’s one giant nest, and sometimes forgets to eat and i find it too annoying to argue with my strong willed daughter so here we are goddamn)

13. For Charlie, feelings are ... awkward. They’re messy and confusing, and when she’s feeling too many things she needs a lot of alone time to sort through them and understand them. It’s not that she doesn’t feel anything, it’s just that she can’t usually identify what she feels from the whirlwind in her head in any proper way. And when people need comforting she doesn’t feel like she’s the best person for the job. But that’s not going to stop her from trying to help; if one of her friends comes to her with a problem then she’s going to help them find logical solutions to those problems. She knows her strengths and she tries her best to use them.

14. She finds it hard to cry. Even when she’s feeling too many things and she really wants to cry (because she thinks maybe that’ll help her, at least it’s scientifically proven to help) the tears won’t always come. Aside from early childhood, she can count on one hand the number of times she’s cried, and half of them are from when she was exhausted or shocked with sudden feelings. The other times feel random to her and often at odds with each other. (She can’t force herself to cry, she can’t fake her own emotions.)

15. One of the few times she remembers crying was the first time she saw the Aurora Borealis. She saw it in a movie theater, not in person, but to her it was like seeing the real thing. She was little at the time and when she saw it she was just - she was overwhelmed. She was overwhelmed with so many feelings, like happiness and beauty and wonderment. When they came out of the theater and her family saw her still crying they all started freaking out, until she tried to explain it to them (she was really choked up but she tried). She remembered describing it something like, “It’s like seeing music ... Mama, I think I saw music.” she counts this as the one time she expressed her words so artistically she doesn’t know how but she did. it was also one of those rare times she was envious of artistic people for being able to express human emotions so well (there’s that part in The Tale of Despereaux when he said that he “heard honey” when what he’d really heard was music that comes to my mind). Later, she was told what the lights were called and she decided then and there that if she ever had a daughter then she’d name her Aurora (no papa, not from Sleeping Beauty, this is different!). It was also around this time that she really got into learning about space.

16. Charlie’s a night owl. She loves being awake when all the world is asleep. She loves the silence and the clarity she feels in her thoughts when there is no one else around.

17. Charlotte has an “all things pink and glitter” obsession that she never quite grew out of and never really plans to. Her room is pink, her glasses are pink, her stationary is pink, most of her clothes are pink, and her favorite Care Bear and My Little Pony characters are also pink.

18. She got her glasses when she was around 10, and she even got to choose them herself. :D The sad thing was that she was only one of 2 kids in her grade who had glasses and the other one was who she considered to be an annoying prat, but the good news was that at least 3 girls in her year got braces and one of them was nice and called her glasses pretty and also she was the only one who’d done her braces sparkly so there.

19. Most her life she never had close friends. She was always considered too smart and aloof for them. She had her nose stuck in books and she always got the best grades in her year. She was also really good at chess and strategy games and not to brag but she’s even one a few awards for this and this quality was always something that alarmed and frustrated people to no end (read: boys who wanted to prank her and various arrogant, would-be bullies) when she would know all sorts of things about them that they never remembered telling her. What they didn’t know was that she gathered all that information just from observing them and listening to what they said. She’s a strategist and a planner and she delights in knowing more than everybody else, making it so that when she wasn’t purposefully faded into the background, she came off as intimidating and scary, and rightly so. You cross her or try to pull any nonsense around her and she’ll make you regret it.

20. Contrary to what I feel might be predictable for her, it wasn’t Hailey (the friendly and cheerful one) or Josie (the smart and sociable one) that pulled Charlie into Laila’s friend group, but instead it was Laila herself. Charlie might not be good when it comes to feelings, both hers and other people’s, but she’s an excellent judge of character. She doesn’t talk to her peers because she’s categorized them as not being her “type”. She sees them and thinks they’re silly and petty and loud and annoying. She gets impatient with how childish and flighty and apparently short of memory they are, how they haven’t yet decided what they want with their life, how they’re all sooooo fussed about what other people want them to be and how they haven’t made up their minds about who they want to be. Dealing with them is boring and somehow oddly exhausting, so she doesn’t waste her time with them.

She and Laila met through circumstance. And what she immediately got from Laila was that she was someone who was filled with something akin to gentle warmth. She saw someone who didn’t judge or expect things from her. Someone who didn’t raise her hackles or crowd her space, both physically and mentally. She saw a person who didn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t, who didn’t really have anything to hide. Most of all, she saw in Laila someone who went about her day with honesty and good will in her actions towards others, who was genuine and caring. Those are things she’s not often found in other people, no matter their age. It’s something that she’s come to appreciate and respect in the rare, rare instances when she does find it. It took a while, but as she got to know Laila and her other friends better and hung out with them more often, she saw that she found a place where she felt like she could breathe.

#tfal: charlie #thrown for a loop #important #character building #oomph #how many hours did i spend on this?#my brain is mush #and i don't even care lol #i've had all these thoughts spinning around in my head for so many weeks now #so like not to be dramatic but i felt like i would l i t e r a l l y c o m b u s t if i didn't get all of this down in print #this was cathartic #and now i don't want to do any thinking for the rest of this evening #(btw the origin of this post is one friendly writer i know and i hope she knows this is all because of her)#aside from that i have one burning question #DO I TAG PEOPLE IN THINGS LIKE THIS? WOULD PEOPLE BE HAPPY TO SEE THINGS LIKE THIS??#I DON'T KNOW AND I'M WAY BEHIND IN FINDING OUT #heck #i really need to make that tagging post

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