#Random accents of pastels too

[thepaintedsable]

My sketchbook is a mess. Everything is one good sneeze from flying away. ANYWAYS TF2 YAY YIPPEEE!!!

I made them animals because it brings be joy and also I couldn’t get fake lizard Pyro out of my head and that obviously meant he needed a whole team to match.

I’d like to think that reptiles are just normal animals in whatever world this is, so Pyro is fooling nobody and is also extremely scary. Why are you so tall, lizard boy? Stop that.

Also coyote Spy and coydog Scout. These two are very not related as you can clearly tell. Not one bit of resemblance whatsoever no sir.

“Skink” Pyro, Coyote Spy, Coydog Scout, Kangaroo Sniper, Stoat Medic, Bear Heavy, Mule Soldier, and Ram Demo.

Pyro was the most obvious to me. I may or may not have chosen my favorite lizard just because they are both very cool and extremely elusive to me. I know nothing about these guys (I could fix this, but I don’t) yet I smile every time I see one. They’re just silly. 5 banded because of the fun coloration!

Coyote Spy and Coydog Scout go hand in hand in terms of choice, here. I wanted a wild-type animal for Spy and some sort of mix for Scout, preferably something that could be written off but is way too coincidental when they’re next to each other lmfao. I really liked the Zorse/Zebra idea but I felt like I couldn’t have that with Mule Soldier.

Sniper is only a Kangaroo because I can’t draw a kea or a kākāpō. I will continue to figure out how to draw a kea and/or a kākāpō and also shape it properly to Snipers long face, so help me god. They’re birds native to New Zealand (Sniper was born in New Zealand), threatened to critically endangered (Sniper is, very technically in TF2, one of the last New Zealanders alive if you think about it), and he stuck out compared to his folks in Australia. Also I think he should have the right to dismantle a car (Keas are very smart :) )

STOAT MEDIC!!!! Or honestly any weasel, ferret, or martin. They are sneaky, intelligent hunters, and generally spook me. That there is a snake with fur and also has managed to take our multiple populations in multiple areas because we keep putting them places. I think a weasel would steal souls.

Bear Heavy.

Mule Soldier! The US Army mascot is a Mule, and considering how military-crazed soldier is I think it was a good fit. Coulda also done a bulldog, but his name is “soldier” not “marine”.

And Demo still needs some work because I am not at all happy with his design! Yippee!

[artdcnaldson]

hey queen today i am thinking of prince!art who doesn’t even care about potentially being king or having a queen to rule with until he meets you just a random silly thought

sighhhh prince!Art <3

He spends his days with Patrick, his father's ward, a highborn second-son of the king of a neighboring kingdom. They drink and whore and hunt and gamble and it's all so fun, he doesn't need anything else.

But then you're sweeping into the castle in pretty pastel dresses, your head dipped low, sweet and virginal and polite. They say you're a dragon rider, but he doesn't believe that. You speak in a foreign tongue with your father at dinner, in a strange accent with clipped consonants and rolled r's.

Art will be king one day, with a golden crown to match his pretty, golden hair, and you... you're supposed to be his queen. He promenades with you in the garden. Your lady's maid chaperones, and Patrick joins in to walk alongside you, like he belongs there.

Your innocence is delicious— the perfect princess, molded from birth to be a gift for some noble boy like Art, like Patrick. Art should treasure that, he should worship the ground you walk on and commit to being a good husband and king for you.

But Patrick has other ideas.

"She should join us," Patrick suggests, watching on with lust-filled eyes as Art takes a razor to his body hair, relishing in the chance to take in the dip and curve of well-honed muscle. Such a pampered little prince— he's hardly seen the world outside of the keep.

"She does join us," Art says. "Too much for my liking."

Patrick grins lecherously. "I think the little princess would benefit from a little education," he says, wearing a coy smile.

Art bristles. "You want to fuck her?"

"So do you." Patrick replies with a shrug. "She should know how to please her king."

Art snorts. He's not a king, and his father is far too stubborn to die any time soon. "You'll just scare her away," he argues.

But Patrick is far more convincing, or maybe you just want it so bad. The pretty little dragon rider, cloaked in rags, sneaking into a brothel with the crown prince and the king's ward.

Your pretty eyes widen in shock and interest at the sight of the lowborn women's bodies, moving in ways that spark interest. You're there for Art, you remind yourself. Because your father told you to deny him of nothing. Patrick is just an extension of Art, so you obey him as well.

They feed you wine and fruit in a private room draped with gauzy fabrics that cover oil lamps and make the room dance in hazy, colored light. Naked girls straddle their laps and they moan with interest and you just... you watch. It's equal parts humiliating and arousing, the watching.

"Pay attention, princess," Patrick says as the girl in Art's lap begins to pull off his clothes. "It's time for your first lesson."

[validfemale]

` a girly guide to journaling .𖥔 ݁ ˖

keeping a diary is honestly the ultimate girl power move—it’s not just fun, it’s like therapy but cuter and all yours. keeping those pages full is how i keep my mental game strong and my girliness on point.

i’ve been doing this consistently for years now, so trust me, i know all the hacks. here’s the tea on all my fave diary tools, inspo, and tips to keep your diary flourishing like it deserves.

✦ — WHY KEEPING A DIARY IS EVERYTHING?

having a diary is like creating your own little world where all your thoughts, dreams, and random brain dumps live. every time you flip back, it’s like chatting with an old friend (who just happens to be you).

nothing beats that feeling of re-reading your own wild thoughts, laughing at old jokes, or realizing how much you’ve leveled up since then. plus, a diary is a no-judgment zone. it’s therapy with glitter pens—just you, your thoughts, and all the space you need to rant, rave, or reflect without anyone intruding. think of it as your self-love sanctuary.

✦ — MUST-HAVE GOODIES FOR YOUR PHYSICAL DIARY!

♡ color-pop pens: pastels, metallics, and scented inks make writing more fun. pick pens that scream you.

♡ cute stickers & washi tape: because every page deserves a mini makeover. get stickers that match your vibe—flowers, stars, or maybe a lil’ sparkle.

♡ scrap-worthy bits: magazine clippings, instant photos, pressed flowers—whatever you want to glue down to capture a moment. treat your diary like an art journal, too.

✦ — STUFF TO STICK IN FOR EXTRA PERSONALITY!

♡ decorative inserts: think vintage paper, glitter accents, and ribbons to add layers. let your pages be as fancy or minimal as you like.

♡ pretty diaries: invest in a diary that feels good to hold. go for soft covers, plushy textures, or fun patterns that make you want to pick it up and write.

✦ — DIGITAL DIARY ESSENTIALS!

♡ digital notebooks (like Notion): for an organized, clean look. play with templates to match your aesthetic.

♡ header graphics + mood photos: make each section extra with dreamy visuals. pinterest is the ultimate treasure trove for this.

digital diaries are perfect for on-the-go thoughts. you can switch things up, add GIFs, or create cute collages with zero mess.

✦ — WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING!

diaries are a vibe, so make your entries match your mood. some days, you’ll have full-on storytime entries; other days, it’s all about the little things. start with “hey love” if you’re feeling sweet, or just dive right in. treat it like your cozy space for everything you wish someone would ask about.

i like to write twice a week to keep it consistent (but no pressure). some entries are just life recaps; others are random lists or things that make me smile.

[hiphopcherrrypop]

pinterest fits 😱

reference pics under cut as well as me yapping

i somehow didnt realize til after finishing it i kind of gave jabashiri his normal outfit but inversed color lolz..... but anyways i can imagine like he would like looser pants but hates when they drag on the floor lol. so he either cuffs them or tucks them into his shoes is theyre too baggy

kept hagure in his hoodie and big shorts combo lol.. i was gonna say i cant picture him in pants but then i realized. wait he witewally wore pants last ep... oh well. not putting him in his cap was also an internal battle

i think zabu would wear pretty similar clothes to his school uniform tbh; kinda sporty style jackets + pants, i decided on this outfit bc i wanted to go a little further from his school outfit and most of the other ones i liked for him were all black lol

okay SOOO tew be honest i was having trouble finding smtn i think he would wear + i choose random outfit from piwon killin it promotiuons i liked.. thank u jongseob✌😭 i feel like he'd definitely wear something more colorful + overall lighter pallet than this outfit lol but i liked the half skirt so 🤯👍

anyways if im talking what he'd actually wear... gonna ramble a lot oops,.... i'd lurve more info on like. all the characters' home lives... big family = i often just assume to having some money struggles at home, so i imagine most of his clothes are thrifted stuff. idk what the age gaps is here but he's the oldest sibling so he doesn't get hand-me-downs.. i like to think of him being a very caring big brother, and he doesnt rly care about if what he wears is consider feminine or masculine, so he keeps what he gets a pretty even balance of the two, thinking not just abt his own tastes but also what'll eventually go to his siblings. but then when they get passed down eventually his siblings end up fghting over who gets what.. "it was his skirt first and he's a boy, wdym you get it just bc your a girl?!" smtn like that loll

it's so preppy in here.!! ik the sweatshirt was just like lounge clothes but i reallyyyy loved that outfit for him lolzz... i wanna see him in more big sweaters and sweatshirts...

sorry for lack of marito and outa aughh.. i was struggling with both of them, outa especially i have rly no clue what to put him in XD

but marito i'd imagine in clothes kinda similar to in the flashbacks; his regular outfit is very different to that but kind of ?? idk hot topic pastel mall goth. if that makes sense

maybe something kinda like this but probably with tripps or some other baggy pants w more pink accents

i type this up at 2am + dont feel like proof-reading now bear with me if some of this does nawt make sense 😭👍

[your-ghoul-pal]

What colour I think the ghouls (+ Copia) would paint their nails (headcanon)

Aether: Either not but when he does have them painted he will choose the most random colours, just every nail a different colour. (Can paint his own nails but if someone offers or asks he will let them do it (and he loves it when someone paints his nails for him)

Alpha: Black or dark red, used to say he hated it but has come to adore coloured nails (Paints his own nails, doesn't let anyone do it for him)

Cumulus: Soft pastel rainbow, every nail their own colour or all nails the same soft pastel colour. But when she feels like fun she will wear flashy neon nailpolish (Absolute master of painting her own nails)

Cirrus: always all nails the same colour, often a somewhat basic red, blue, purple or black (Not the best at painting her own nails but definitely getting better at it)

Dew: He always insisted he was too tough for nail polish, now he will get mad if his nails aren't painted with a vibrant red or blue (maybe a black accent nail) (Paints his owns nails most the time, will maybe let Cirrus do it for him, but she is never too interested to do it)

Ifrit: Any colour he is offered, he can't paint his own nails but gets wayyy too excited when someone asks him if they can paint his nails.

Rain: Not a fan of the texture and feeling there is anything on his nails. Sometimes he can stand just one or two layers of colour and then he opts for more soft colours. Either soft pastel blue, cyaan or green. (Will only let Mountain, Cumulus or Sunshine paint them)

Mountain: Even though his nails tend to be gross due to working with nature a lot he likes to have his nails painted, he doesn't care too much if it gets chipped. He doesn't care about the colour, as long as it looks cool (He can paint his own nails but let's whoever offers to do it, do it)

Mist: Honestly whatever colour she has laying around she will use. As long as they somewhat match the other colours she don't care. (aka only pastels with pastels, only vibrant colours with vibrant colours etc.) (Pretty decent at painting her own nails but prefers if someone else does it as it means less cleanup)

Omega: white, he will only allow white nail polish. He makes sure his nails are properly painted to piss off the one homophobe that told him he couldn't be a true man if he had painted nails (He prefers to paint his own nails but will never let an offer from Mist to paint his nails go to waste)

Sunshine: The colour she tends to put on their nails is almost an opposite of their bright vibrant personality, her nails often dressed in black nail polish. (However if she feels like having fun she will put pride flags (one colour per nail) on her nails) (There will always be some nailpolish around their nails that she will pick off over a few days. Getting better at painting their nails however I feel like she'd keep painting a little over them just to pick it off)

Swiss: Vibrant colours only, gotta keep it flashy :). Will however not learn to paint his own nails and only let's Cumulus do it (She loves doing it so it's their little moment)

Copia: He doesn't care, he mostly wears gloves but still likes his nails painted. So he agrees to about any colour Cumulus or Sunshine offers to paint his nails with (He can paint them himself but likes the little moments he gets to have with Lus and Sunny)

[your-older-alterhuman-sibling]

@3qu1us ur doing this too >:3

probably vanilla or grape, possibly acrylic paint

either the 'honk mi mi mi' or the 'boink'

Mate or Die deffo

when the ai I created for a school project asked 'why do people experience emotion? what would happen if nobody loved each other?' I cant explain but it felt so genuinely human

Harry Potter, sharks, there's probs more

when I hear different meme sounds or this shitty reaction images I think of you, Alex <3

Mary (Alex G), I Bet on Losing Dogs (Mitski), Step On Me [sped] (The Cardigans), New Flesh (Current Joys), Boys Don't Cry (the Cure), Cupid (Jack Stauber), Fine [sped] (Lemon Demon), Sarah (Alex G), Audit [Walten Files song] (Weevildoing), Absolute Territory (Ken Ashcorp)

Somebody breaks into my house and tries to kill me so I need an escape? I know my exact route, I know what to use as a weapon for self-defense, I know at what point to call emergency services. Also, I've literally planned what to do in case of an apocalypse. The joys of being autistic.

Vet, yet everyone says I'd be a great vet. I just couldn't handle it.

one of those silly devices in old movies where there's two people and they have to lift a little seesaw-thing up and down to go forward on the rails. it's clumsy and doesn't work properly

you act like a bull just baked you a pie.

I have a little trinket box that has lesbians on it, painted like a greek painting. there's a little cupid and everything. I should post it one day

I had my moms coat, sneakers that were three sizes too large, weird overalls, pastel pink jumper

I would rather be able to draw not write bc I can do both already and writing's just v time consuming honestly, it kind frustrates me also

acai, euphemism

prank calls, gossip, panting nails, watching movies,

my dump phase. it sounds horrific, but I genuinely miss that era. I was so much healthier mentally, I was secure in my identity and I was liked by a load more people. that was also quarantine but oh well

making my favourite foods, colour mixing, socialising lmfao

I found my sister watching p. I also baked some random ass poisonous-looking leaf in my air fryer and ate it bc I felt like it.

avocado, soup, prawns, hummus, oranges

I once spent 24 under constant surveillance bc some random called my health workers and told them I threatened to kill someone. for the record, I didnt, but I was on new medication and was incredibly unstable so they weren't taking any chances

that everyone had made a secret pact to treat certain people weirdly. I also assumed everyone else talked to themselves

my brother who lives in the country I was born in always brings over my fave treats when he visits. there's these little liquorice flavours they do in the Nederlands and one of the floors is salt. I love it but it literally tastes like soured milk afterwards

one

I originally followed demilypyro bc she was funny, now I follow her bc not only is she funny, she's also dutch

I have a v English accent (south England) but if I got to chose I'd choose either my native dutch or French like my grandpapa has

that kind of deep hello that feels musty and cosy without being highlighter yellow. its just kind of.. deeper white?

And Yet I Am Dead (this was actually gonna b the go name for a band I was in, but it got changed)

how to use glue properly bc I didnt think I was doing it right. I've also looked up a tut on how to sound exactly like Neil Ciceraga, but that's a story for another day

South Park, Lemon Demon, lemurs, greek and renaissance paintings

:D

Asks you've (probably) never been asked before

Reblog to Join !

What smell do you think you'd recognize the fastest?

If you were a sound effect, what would you be?

What fanfic trope do you think is the least likely to ever happen?

What is the most human thing that you've ever seen done by an animal/machine?

What is something you know a lot about, but don't have much of an opinion on?

What's something that always reminds you of the same thing every time you see/hear/etc. it?

What song do you feel like would be the same color as your favorite color? (If your favorite color was a song, what would it be?)

What's something that'll never happen that you've put a lot of thought into anyways?

What's a job you've never imagined having/wanted to have, even since you were a kid?

Usually trains of thought are resonated with, well, trains- what's something else you'd use to describe your thought process?

What's an idiom you love, but are never able to use?

What's something you bought without thinking and don't regret buying?

Did you have a favorite outfit/shirt/jacket/pair of shoes/etc. as a child? If so, what?

Would you rather be able to draw, but not write, or vice versa?

What's a word you have no clue how to pronounce?

What's a sleepover activity you've never done before?

What fills you with nostalgia, despite being relatively new?

What's something you've done enough you feel like you should have memorized it by now, but still need reference to do?

What's something you did as a kid that your parents still don't know about?

Has there ever been a food that you don't like, but a bunch of your friends/family love?

What's a fact about you that you'd feel willing to share to anyone, no matter who they are?

What's a strange assumption about humanity that you made as a kid, if you had one?

What's a food you would've liked, if it weren't for the aftertaste?

how many oceans have you swam in?

Think of one of the people you follow. Why did you follow them originally? Did the reason change overtime?

What accent do you have now and What accent would you have if you got to choose one?

what’s your favorite color of nightlight?

Quick! come up with a name for a music album!

Strangest thing you ever looked up a tutorial on?

What’s something you’ve known existed for a long time, but only gained a interest in recently?

Please include the question if you can! Makes things a whole lot easier on our end :)

[voidsumbrella]

wraith clothes: solid cool colors, mostly jewel tones, sometimes pastels. lightweight fabrics when possible, soft textures but nothing scratchy or slippery. any coverage, but everything has to fit loosely and nothing can constrict their joints. slight preference towards dresses and skirts, but is flexible 90% of the time. minimal accessories- scarves are sometimes fine. doesn't really change styles for the setting unless specifically requested.

witch clothes: nothing heavily gendered either way, leans towards neutrals with bright accents. varies heavily with few restrictions otherwise.

casual outfits: standard casual. tshirt and jeans is fine. whatever's comfy and within arms reach. occasionally looks like a randomized sim.

out of the house: runway-tier flashy but not completely impractical. heavily accessorized, frequently themed.

work clothes: anything goes so long as it's flashy and dramatic. they still need to be able to move easily but it should look Impressive.

haven clothes: strictly full coverage. prefers pastels and light neutrals. usually wears earrings, other light accessories are fine so long as they're not super flashy. masc end of androgynous.

casual outfits: long sleeved tshirt + sweatpants or jeans if he's feeling high energy. gently patterned sweater or plain hoodie if it's cold. sometimes steals wraith's skirts.

pre-wiwr: out of the house was the same as casual, work clothes were a slim fit white button down with a black tie and black slacks that are sliiightly too short in the legs.

post-wiwr: ...i dunno this is where i'm stuck lol.

[lavender606122]

Full Name: Lavender.

Age: 24.

Date of Birth: 24th November 1998.

Current Location: England.

Gender: Non-Binary.

Pronouns: They/Them.

Orientation: Bisexual or pansexual.

Occupation: None, is doing community work.

Living Arrangements: Messy, planning on being better...

Language(s) Spoken: English mainly.

Accent: Mostly English, but may have alittle Welsh and Scottish in there.

Hair Colour: Poured Purple.

Eye Colour: Red and Green.

Weight: Unknown.

Build: Cubby and curvy, on the small side tho.

Piercings: None.

Clothing Style: Mostly comfy but also kind of random. Into fairycore, cottagecore, goth, emo and cosplaying.

Allergies: Hayfever.

Sleeping Habits: Struggles...

Exercise Habits: Walks.

Emotional Stability: 5

Sociability: Non-disclosed.

Body Temperature: Warm-natured and likes to give warmth.

Positive Traits: Kind and good listener.

Negative Traits: Too honest sometimes.

Fears:  Non-disclosed.

Hobbies: Gaming, clay making and drawing. Also likes to try all sorts of craft things, even sowing on the odd occasion.

Habits: Non-disclosed.

Favourite Weather: light rain. Favourite Colours: Pastel Yellow, Mint and Royal Blue.

Favourite Music: Lofi, Vocaloid, Anime music & Game soundtracks.

Favourite Movies: Likes alot them equally, but prefers animated ones.

Favourite Beverage: Non-disclosed, depends on the day.

Favourite Food: Roast Potatoes.

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius.

Moral Alignment: Neutral.

[dreamcatcherrs]

what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader

+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)

dream:

free-spirited people

someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind

confidence, to a certain extent

someone he can be loud with

someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere

the colour blue (dnf👀)

clean and fresh-looking clothes

satin fabric

big height difference

the smell of citrus fruits

large smiles

silver jewellery

small hands

smart people who aren't afraid to show it

george:

calm, laid back people

someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh

very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them

the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)

bright eyes

lip gloss

flower print

slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them

pastel-coloured nails, not too long

pink-tinted lips

ponytails

the smell of vanilla

puppy eyes

sapnap:

energetic people

someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation

the colour red

like, a bloody red

soft skin

full lips

loose shirts over skin-tight tops

when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe

corsets

a very subtle scent of perfume

thigh highs

someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by

badboyhalo:

large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes

freckles

button noses

rose-gold jewellery

french manicures

bangs

slightly shy people

genuinely sweet people

not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after

someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else

someone completely selfless

the smell of lavender

shiny hair

technoblade:

people who aren't afraid to take the lead

glasses

intellectual people

like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in

or also just book smart people

slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)

gold jewellery

someone with some mystery to them

refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo

cat eyes (eyeliner)

wilbur soot:

long legs

chokers

shy people

someone who gets flustered easily

glasses + thin bangs

the colours brown and beige together

baggy, comfy clothes

the smell of newly baked cookies

beanies

the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with

birth marks

accents

jschlatt:

smart people

the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing

fox eyes

people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public

generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want

someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed

nose rings

simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery

long nails

someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them

high heels

hip dips

corpse husband:

fishnets, of course

someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them

unique people

wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in

chokers

chunky, black sneakers or boots

someone who can make him happy without even trying

a positive aura for the most part

as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them

the colour yellow

rings - lots of them

karl jacobs:

a walking ray of sunshine, basically

tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;

positive energy, uniqueness and rings

a palette filled with bright colours

like, almost rave style colours

that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories

chunky, white shoes

selfless people

someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him

he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know

the colour purple

skeppy:

big eyes

someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying

tooth gaps

someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them

and someone who can take jokes and pranks

people who walk confidently

the smell of strawberries

long eyelashes

someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t

someone who is very respectful to others

a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes

fundy:

someone who comes across as “different” than others

and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)

he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting

beauty marks

nicely shaped eyebrows

someone who finds mystical things interesting

fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)

someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music

people who are constantly warm

red lips

the colour light brown, almost beige-like

quackity:

someone who gets his humour

someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy

especially when on screen in front of an audience

sliver necklaces

the smell of flowers

dark, extreme eyeliner

loose clothes

freckles

piercings

someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others

the colour dark blue

punz:

the colour grey

a fresh fashion sense

yet still very comfortable fits

messy buns

someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them

someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?

glossy lips

independent people

someone responsible and caring to others

tattoos

navel piercings

awesamdude:

cropped jackets

the colour neon green

hair put up in a bun

someone with a free nature

someone who is a complete wild card

like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it

loose strands of hair

clear nail polish

cargo pants

the smell of chocolate

slimecicle:

people who have comfort items

someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows

people who have a unique way of thinking

passionate people

and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours

shorter hair

sweet and nutty scents

natural beauty

fluffy hair

honest people

but not brutally honest

the smell of coconut

eret:

eye glitter/shimmer

silky clothes that shine in the moonlight

platform boots/heels

long, flowy dresses

someone who does whatever they want

and who doesn't like being told what to do by others

the colours pink and dark purple

the smell of the ocean

someone who already knows how to live their life

stretch marks

foolish:

low-cut jeans

someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh

someone very supportive of their friends

curtain bangs

long-sleeved sweatshirts

someone who loves food

puppy eyes

straight, white teeth

someone who is willing to help others in need

someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back

someone who knows what they want

jack manifold:

confidence

white, wide-legged pants

the colour light blue or just pure white

people who are very easy-going and fun to be around

someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour

an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them

butterfly patterns

crop tops

oversized t-shirts

hair beads

tommy:

people who are just as loud as him

and at the same time knows when to be serious

the colours yellow and grey

people who are kind to everyone

creative eyeliner

fluffy hair

people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings

colourful accessories

someone who isn't afraid to be who they are

someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them

oversized hoodies

tubbo:

hoodies layered over skirts or dresses

frilly socks

people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!

someone who can help him overcome some of his fears

charm bracelets

cute habits

the colours yellow and orange

dimples

the smell of almond milk and honey

people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused

ranboo:

someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)

but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met

loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him

he likes sass

glassy skin

fingerless gloves

people who act cocky for the fun of it

but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything

simplistic earring placements

people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed

people who don't gossip

____________________________________

tag list✰

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[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

That’s the golf cart boy that helps your family when you go to the country club and play golf and you ask him to teach you how to swing properly so he can put his arms around you

“I missed.” Y/N huffs as she watches her golf ball sail through the air and disappear into the lake behind her target, her shoulders slouching and mouth dipping into a subdued frown. This is her third failed attempt yet. “You’re utter shit at teaching for someone who’s been working here so long.”

Harry simply gives the amateur a crooked grin from where he’s standing off on the sidelines, his lean arms crossed over his stomach nonchalantly as he waits for her to finish walking towards to him. He takes the bait for their usual banter, snorting in amusement at her fiery reaction. “I’m an amazing golf coach; it’s not my fault you have no talent. I can only build on people’s skills, not pull them out of my ass and hand them over on a silver platter. Maybe if you actually practiced like I told you—”

“Maybe if this sport wasn’t so fucking boring,” she bites back, using the end of her golf club to nudge him pointedly in his sturdy chest, “I would be stimulated enough to try.”

Harry purses his lips to hide a filthy smirk, taking the tool from her and tossing it into the bag across the backseat of his cart. He turns back to face his conditional student, one of his brows inching upwards snidely. “Are you saying you’re not stimulated enough?”

Y/N’s features crack into a scowl at his inappropriate joke. “Hilarious. I bet you’re a hit among pre-teens, aren’t you?”

“I am, yeah!” He quips brightly, exaggerating an innocent smile as he rounds the side of the vehicle and mounts into the driver’s spot. He parts his legs widely as he gets comfortable, and she has to restrain the urge to rake her gaze down the unbelievably short trousers riding up his thick thighs. He pats at the seat beside him symbolically, silently requesting that she join him. “But I’m also great with the ladies. Get a hole in one every time. Literally.”

The girl releases a sound of aggravated disgust at his stupid self-absorbed comment, trudging through the wet grass and rolling her eyes in exasperation as he giggles boyishly. She hauls herself up into the front seat, plopping onto the leather surface with a deadpan expression written all over her face. “You’re despicable.”

“Ooh, that’s a neat new word! Are you working on expanding your vocabulary? Proud of you, love.”

“Just shut up and drive, Tiger Woods.”

“To our usual spot?”

She maneuvers to position herself accordingly, propping her feet onto his lap as he finagles the buggy into the designated setting. She fixes her frilly pastel blue skirt over her thighs as she does so, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sly eyeful. Knowing him, he’d definitely take the chance.

Y/N taps the tip of her shoe against his lean tummy for significance, shrugging her brows impassively as she leans her head back against the nearest railing. “Where else would we go?”

“I dunno, maybe back to the club so your family isn’t left wondering where you are? S’kinda rude to make them wait,” he pauses for a moment to glance down at the watch decorating his wrist, humming to himself in realization, “especially because lunch is already being served. Food’s gonna get cold.”

“They can wait five minutes. It takes longer than that to starve to death.”

“Pretty brutal.”

“What is?”

Harry glimpses over at her with his tongue pressed along the inside of his cheek, condescension scribbled all over his demeanor. It’d been infuriating if he wasn’t so hot. Well, it’s infuriating regardless, but at least his attractiveness allows her to benefit from his antics.

The young man’s accent holds the same type of smugness slathered across his plush lips and defined cheekbones, and his words send a flush of heat down the knobs of her spine. “That you’d rather get fucked in an equipment shed than spend quality time with your relatives.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him pettily, muscling down the warmth rising up her neck. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing much.” He bobs his shoulders easily, tone dismissive and indifferent as he secures one bejeweled hand onto the steering wheel, the other finding perch above her knee. He gives it a playful squeeze, his dimples winking at her flirtatiously when she jolts at the iciness behind his chunky rings. “Just an observation, s���all.”

“I’m not sleeping with you so you can make observations.” She grumbles, but despite her attitude towards him, she doesn’t make any conscious effort to shed his touch. His skin is always so soft, and the sensation of his large palm resting anywhere on her body feels so fucking right.

“Aren’t you?” Harry inquires with snarky pretension, dropping the sole of his sneaker onto the acceleration pedal and causing the car’s ignition to roar to life. The tiny vehicle takes off across the slopes of the golfing meadow, jumping and creaking as it rides over all the dips and hills of the valley, trees and flags whizzing by as it speeds towards an all too familiar trail. “Because last time I checked, you seem to love it when I observe you on your knees. Beg for it, even.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches tightly at his taunting. “Piss off.”

“How’s that go again? Something along the lines of,” he sweetens his voice down into a dramatic pleading lilt, mimicking her moans from the past, “‘You taste so fucking good, Harry.’ and ‘I love it when you cum on my face, baby.’ and ‘I want you to fuck my mouth, daddy. Want it so bad.’”

The young woman’s teeth squeak from how hard she’s biting back her anger. “Asshole.”

“Is that not right? Is that not what happens?” Harry implores with a ridiculing pout and fluttering lashes, going out of his way to ride on her last nerve. His fingers begin to crawl higher up her leg, sneaking beneath the billowing edge of her skirt and tracing random shapes along the suppleness of her inner thighs, pinching and twisting at the flesh until he gets a physical response. He adores seeing her squirm against the waxy seat as she suddenly grasps onto his arm needily, especially because she does absolutely nothing to deter him from continuing. “Sorry, my memories get jumbled sometimes. There’s just so many of them, y’know? You whimper and whine for my cock so often, I can hardly keep track of every single time. Maybe I should start a transcript or summat, hm?”

Y/N’s voice pipes up low and venomous, but there’s a trembling undercurrent to it that she can’t deny. “If you keep being a dickhead, this’ll be the last one.”

Harry tuts conceitedly, cooing at her as his digits dive deeper into her bottoms, hooking into her panties and toying with her clit beneath the damp material. He doesn’t break his gaze away from the expanse of grass before them, but his arrogant simper is wide enough that she gets the perfect view of it from his ridiculously handsome side profile. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Get fucked.”

“I’m about to.”

[cottoncandyjester]

🥺🥺 I love Luis, Azul, and Iago. Can we meet the final alters too?

Of course! Let’s go down the roster and kinda talk about their roles

Warning this contains: talk about self harm, suicide, DID, yandere behavior, violence

Iago- protector, 33

Iago is the system’s main protector

He usually only fronts when they are stressed out

The smell and sight of Blood also triggers him out since blood always startles luis

There are times where members of the gang force him out and it’s quite painful and annoying

He is so hostile to people cause he is doing everything he can to scare off whatever the threat to the system is

When around their partner he’s a lot more relaxed and calm though he still a tad grumpy

He usually doesn’t care about what they wear or appearance since he is never fronting that much but he can’t stand azul’s style and finds it embarrassing.

Is very violent and willing to kill to protect the system

He often only protects the system via physical violence or taking the physical abuse while astro is more of an emotional protector and takes the emotional abuse

Azul- gatekeeper, 25

Azul is an alter with an interesting personality for sure

He’s a dreamer and constantly has his head in the clouds

He loves to star gaze

Is such a romantic that it’s almost insanely cheesy

His role as gatekeeper is to ensure that no one fronts when they aren’t supposed to

He also helps ensure everything is running smoothly

Due to his ability to force certain alters from fronting whenever he wants he sometimes abuses that power though he feels a tad guilty afterwards

He loves pastel colors so if he’s fronting when it’s time for them to get ready he will absolutely dress them in pastels(much to luis annoyance)

He often is co fronting instead of fronting all the way since it’s faster to block someone else out so due to this he’s seen a lot of their trauma and is always ready to quickly switch in when needed

He loves painting and their clothes will be covered in paint splatters from painting when we he has an ounce of control

He is the most knowledgeable about the system knowing almost everything about it

He’s such a pervert it’s awful

He loves to tease their darling

From sexual hand gestures to “innocently” eating food in a sexual manner

He of course would never act on these urges without everyone’s permission since it feels disrespectful and could be traumatizing but he’s excited for the day where their lovely host loses his virginity

Blaise- trauma holder,18

Paranoid French boy

While the protectors and azul have some memories of the trauma, Blaise ensure none of the others confront the awful memories and relive it

Blaise doesn’t front often due to their extreme paranoia of everything and everyone as well as

When they do front they usually space out reliving those memories or fronts to take even more trauma

Hella thick French accent

When panicked they will start crying and ranting in French

Very sensitive

They definitely do not trust their darling at first no matter how much the alters adore them

The first time they fronted infront of their darling they hid under a table for about an hour rocking back and forth praying in French while the trauma memories played in their head for god knows how long until another alter took over

Even now he’ll say a polite greeting to their darling before keeping his distance.

This being said he will watch their darling from afar, just watching as they do random things looking all lovestruck

The moment their darling sees him staring though he’s looking down

Any type of yelling and it’s immediately going to apologize or covering their face waiting to be hit

He slouches the most out of all the alters

He is constantly stuttering

He is very superstitious

Like he believes in all the superstitions which is why he’s deathly afraid of black cats

Caligo-persecutor,22

He terrorizes the alters into being antisocial

In his eyes they don’t need help they don’t need anyone else

Cause of this they would try to kill their darling or at least get them to leave claiming to hate them and how utterly dangerous they are

Will and does engage in self harm as well as flooding the system with thoughts of suicide

The way he sees it he’s protecting the system from outside trauma by whipping them into acting reserved and distant

Cause of him their body has scars and burn marks on their inner thigh

If one of the alters act out he’ll punish the body for it through verbal and physical abuse

He is constantly reminding them that they deserve this abuse and that’s what they get for getting close to people

They want the system to be isolated from everyone, it’s safer that way.

Everyone in the system fears/ hates them

Despite their abuse to the system he was once a great protector like iago but he realized how Dangerous it is to get attached to life and people

When in control he lashes out at everyone in the gang causing them to distant themselves from the system.

Will also starve the body when in control as punishment for doing something “dangerous”

No matter how much azul tries to keep him out it takes so much energy to that he sometimes slips through

To make it worse the more Luis tries to ignore him and the more intense he gets. He truly wants to protect but all the alters see him as nothing but a pain

He gets pissed when ignored and abandoned so when his rage hits a boiling point he tends to just snap and go on a warpath destroying everything and everyone in his way

Astro-caregiver/ protector

He usually takes care of blaise and the other alters giving them words of praise and encouragement

He is an older brother/ fatherly type figure

Despite this he’s ageless though he presents himself as a young male

He would definitely baby their darling calling them nicknames like sweetpea or honey

He also tends to front when around kids or someone behaving in a weak or childlike manner

He usually doesn’t front though and mostly just hangs around giving pep talks and words of wisdom

When emotional abuse happens he relaxes and comforts the system to keep them calm

Is very nurturing and the others usually beg him to front when their darling is distressed since they have no idea what to do

He also helps the system cope in healthy positive ways

So him and caligo don’t get along too much

Despite this he sees all the alters as important members of the system saying that without them luis wouldn’t be able to cope

He also remind the body to yonow eat and stuff

All around just so loving

[kitkat1003]

Who Are You Really?

Chapter 4: Rush Hour

Summary:

Huh.  Guess Spirit doesn’t have too much time to introspect.  That’s okay, though.  Introspection doesn’t lead to anything good, and Spirit much prefers action over thought when they start to think too far back.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Ft. Almond, who belongs to @strange-lace

Spirit Masterpost

Spirit is nervous.

Macaque’s token is buzzing.  

They don’t know if they should be.  They’re nervous for clients, of course, and they’re polite to everyone they meet, but Macaque is...different.  They’ve known him longer, longer than most of their clients.

They’ve done so many favors for him, he can’t hurt them.  They know that.  They know they know that.

They still tremble a little as they reach into their pocket.

Are the favors not enough?  They have to be.  Spirit has been operating on them for as long as they can remember, likely longer than that.  Favors are dependable, favors make sense, they can tally them down and be assured, and know, and can quantify, and

And yet.

Macaque is like Red, but different.  Close, but not a friend.  Something else.  And Spirit shouldn’t be afraid.  They’ve done him favors, they’re safe.  They’ve done everything he asked, even when it wasn’t good.  Because they aren’t stupid, and they know what is and isn’t right.  They haven’t been right for a long time maybe ever, but they just want to be safe, and this is how they will be.

They know that.  This is how it has to be.

Because if it isn’t, then Spirit would have, and wouldn’t have, and

Spirit doesn’t like to think on the would haves, because they turn into should haves.  They should have this, they should have that—none of that is helpful.  Wanting more from the past doesn’t change the present.

Besides, they should have what they deserve, and

Spirit grabs the token and goes to where they are needed.

They’re not quite sure where they are, at first, but the cliffside they appear at is just a few miles from the town.  They can see the weather tower from where they are.  It’s the tallest building in the city, after all.

Macaque’s seeming lack of appearance would be worrying, but Spirit feels the itch that always happens in their eye, the big one, when Macaque is hiding in the dark.

“You test that a lot,” they say.  “I haven’t missed you yet.”

They turn around just as Macaque steps out of their shadow.  It’s kind of interesting, watching the flat object liquify into what seems like smoke, pulling from the rockface upon which Spirit’s shadow is cast.  From shadow to smoke to flesh and bone, the transition seamless.

“I’m your teacher, aren’t I?  Who else is going to test you?” He stretches his arms leaning back against the cliff face with his arms crossed over his chest.

Spirit supposes that makes sense.  Macaque is their teacher, in the sense that he’s really the only person who has bothered to teach Spirit anything, save for their mom.  But Mom isn’t a teacher, she’s Mom, so Macaque is their teacher.  It makes sense when you think about it.

“So,”  Macaque starts, a claw lazily tugging at Spirit’s sleeve to get their attention.  “Got any new information?  As a favor,” he adds the last part like he always does, and Spirit perks up like they always do.

A new favor is always so nice.

“Oh, well, the Demon Bull King was released,” they start.  “Red Son, Princess Iron Fan, and the Demon Bull King have congregated on the outskirts of Wán Qiãn Chéng, where Monkey King’s successor lives, and they battle him from time to time—”

“Monkey King has a successor?” Macaque all but shouts, loud enough that Spirit takes a step back.

They fidget, and hide their hands behind their back.

“Um, yes?” Spirit shrugs at Macaque’s incredulous look.  “He stopped the Demon Bull King when DBK first emerged, and has been protecting the city and, uh, the world since then.  He’s a little younger than me, age wise I think.

“I haven’t gotten a good look at him, but he’s friends with the youngest member of the Long family, so he might be aristocratic?  I don’t know,” They finish lamely, smiling a little.

Macaque grins.  It’s not a nice one, one of his scheming grins he gets when he wants something and is figuring out how to get it.  Spirit finds it familiar, considering Macaque always wants something from them, in one way or another.  Why he feels the need to scheme is beyond them, because Spirit does most anything if asked politely.

Then again, they were a bit obstinate when Macaque and them first met.  They made Macaque work for their favor, which is stupid.  They should’ve listened better back then, and Macaque would maybe like them more now.  

Most people don’t like them, though, so they suppose they should be used to it.

“Well then,” Macaque starts, rubbing his chin with his hand in thought.  “That is something.  Thanks kid.  I’ll use that.”

Spirit brightens at the praise.

“You’re welcome!” they beam.  “Um, anything else, sir?”

Macaque waves a hand.  “Nah.”

He turns towards the horizon, and then, for some reason, looks back almost...shy?  Spirit doesn’t really understand Macaque’s moods.  He can flip flop in terms of good or bad feelings very quickly, with no rhyme nor reason Spirit can discern in regards to why.

They jump, scrambling to catch an item as Macaque just...tosses them a bag of what they soon realize is coins.  A fair bit, if the weight is any indication.  The bag is purple, with a silver drawstring for the pouch.  They love purple and silver!  Macaque doesn’t do silver, save for the token he made for them; his cuffs are gold.

They glance up at him in confusion.

“Got tired of carrying that,” Macaque says, looking away from them.  “Figured you wouldn’t mind.  Buy yourself something with it, or whatever.”

He glances back at them again.  Spirit waves.

Macaque jumps off the cliff, and disappears.

Spirit heads back to town, after that, flitting through different shopping centers.  They don’t really have a lot of money regularly, but they also don’t spend a lot of money regularly, so they’re typically okay with spending money when they want or need to.  

The last thing that was a big purchase was getting their outfit fixed up for the third time.  They always wait until the fabric is so worn that they can’t stitch it together to do so, because they try to be frugal, but keeping their one and only outfit in fair condition is a necessity.

Macaque had mentioned the practice, saying that it was how he kept his outfit pristine after centuries.  Demons who could weave silk would restring the fabric line by line until it was simply the same but brand new, keeping the old string to be salvaged for whatever they could find within.  It wasn’t terribly expensive, but was still a purchase to be saved up for.

They don’t shift into human form, staying in the alleyways where they’re hardly seen and glancing out to the streets to see if there’s anything neat to find instead of walking in the open as a human.  Their eyes catch on a shop in the food district, a colorful storefront.

Bitter Sweets.

They can see the colorful creations set up in the window display.  Sweets, pastries.

Pastries.

They remember pastries.  It was such a rare thing to have.  Father was always in the Inn, always toward the front side they’d have to cross to get to the indoor kitchen.  They never wanted to cross Father.  They knew what would happen.

But it became a game.  Find whenever Father is gone, fixing up a room for a new customer, off to the town to find tourists, and sneak into the kitchen.  Throw together the ingredients, skipping across the floor to find each and every item needed for the recipe.  Mixing the ingredients into dough, kneading it and playing with it as Mother laughed, shaping it into its proper form, placing it in the stone oven and watching, waiting.

And then the dough would rise, and Spirit would lean in so close to watch that Mom would gently tug them back with a soft smile.  She would pull out the finished product, and Spirit would tug on her sleeve and say ‘Now?’, and she would smile and shake her head and make them wait until it cooled.

They would pull apart the warm (but not hot!) balls of sticky bread just to see the inside and finally stuff a piece into their mouth, giggling.  They’d take the lot and scamper off into safety with Mom, off into the back area where the infirmary was, where father couldn’t reach, the taste of sweetness on their tongue.

Spirit remembers pastries.

Entranced, they cross the street and enter the shop.

The inside is just as warm and bright as the outside, purples and pinks in pastel hues the general color scheme, with cool gray walls and white highlights to accent the colors. There’s a second display case by the front counter, a small table with two chairs off to the side, and a sweet smell of something baking that hits you both with nostalgia and hunger.

Spirit thinks about the last time they’ve eaten, and can’t quite remember.  Then again, that’s not too terrible, considering they don’t need to eat regularly.

“Hello, dear!” A voice calls from further inside.  

Spirit jumps at the sound, and stares as brown hair, purple skin, and red eyes greet them.  The demon is of the spider variety, a cap on her head and smudges of flour and icing on her apron and face.  

She has 3 eyes, just like them.  But they’re not supposed to have three eyes, so it’s different.  She’s allowed to like hers.

She wipes off her hands on her apron and steps up to the counter, a pleasant smile greeting them with her hands on her hips, ready to be of service. “What can I get for you today?”

Spirit stares for a moment.

Right.  They have to order something.

“I-uh-um,” They stammer, because they didn't have time to prepare for this, and just a glance at the display case proves that they don’t know what any of the pastries are, nor do they know what the names mean.

And what did they even expect?  That this random sweets shop would have the exact type of pastry they remembered making centuries ago with someone who has been gone so long it shouldn’t matter?  Those things are lost to time, lost to a world they left behind when there was nothing left but blood and memories.  The soft moments are held only by the crumbs left in their head; there’s nothing tangible here.  They’re so stupid.  So, so, so stupid.

“I can always help you pick something out, if you need help,” the shopkeep says, gentle as Spirit’s anxiety mounts.

No, they can’t ask for help, they’re not allowed to.  They can’t do this, they should just run, run and never come back because this is stupid, what are they even looking for-

“Mooncakes!” they nearly shout, clapping a hand over their mouth a moment later, face bright red as they look away.

Their tail curls around their leg tight enough to hurt.  The shopkeeper's eyes glance down at their leg, for a moment.

Spirit tries again, softer, and fidgets with their belt. “Um, if you, uh, if you have any mooncakes. I would...like those.”

They bite the inside of their cheek hard, just short of drawing blood.

Mooncakes are the only pastry they know by name.  The only pastry that Father allowed and wanted them to make, special for New Years.  That was when they could be in the kitchen for hours, baking batch after batch for customers in the Inn and to hand out to those in the infirmary.

Father never let them make anything outside of what people wanted, what could bring them in money.  He was always so worried about costs, irate by a single lost yuan.  They were only to do what could be profitable.  Providing mooncakes to the tourists brought them business.  That’s all he cared about.

Mom’s hospital business always made far more than the Inn ever did.  It’s a point of pride they carry, that their Mother’s sunny disposition, kind nature, and astute healing practices made her far more of a matriarch than their Father liked.  No one likes staying at an Inn with an owner who has such a cruel gaze, where the owner’s wife and child are too afraid to show their faces.

No one likes staying at an Inn where the owner doesn’t even have a face, but, well, Spirit wouldn’t know anything about that.  Why would they?  They’ve had claws for a long, long time, claws that are strong enough to rip and tear, but that has nothing to do with this.  Nothing happened.  

It’s none of your business.  Stop asking.

The shopkeep smiles.

“Ah, Mooncakes,” she says.  “It’s been a few months since the New Years celebration, but people are still coming around looking for them.  I make a batch every other day just in case.  Lucky for you, today’s the fresh batch!”

She turns away to the back, and Spirit lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Call me Almond,” Almond calls from the back.

Spirit smiles.  “Thank you, Miss Almond.”

They only ask for a few, maybe three, but after they pay and leave they find nearly ten in the bag they’ve been given.  They idly chew on one, and almost stop in the street as the rush of nostalgia is accompanied by the taste of an expertly baked mooncake.

Watching the fireworks with Mom, bright lights up in the sky, sharing a mooncake with someone who cared, being carried home, half asleep under the stars and wanting to be nowhere else but where they were then, because the only place that was home was her arms because they were warm and safe and now they’re….

They blink back a couple tears and continue to chew.

They walk around aimlessly for a while, and eventually climb up a random building to sit on its ledge, letting the wind brush through their fur as they chew on their second mooncake.  

They wonder if Red would share one with them, if they asked.  They never stayed around long enough to share one with him on New Years.  They almost pull out their cell phone and text him, but…well.

Red hasn’t been close for a long time.  A rift was made because Spirit failed him, and they’ve always been a coward, too afraid to reach across the gap where something safe and special used to be.

They put their phone away.

A token buzzes in their pocket.

Huh.  Guess Spirit doesn’t have too much time to introspect.  That’s okay, though.  Introspection doesn’t lead to anything good, and Spirit much prefers action over thought when they start to think too far back.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Oh.  It’s Spider Queen!  

Spirit hasn’t heard from her in a long while, but they’re always happy to help, so they let the token whisk them to where they need to be.

They can hear the rush of cars overhead when they appear in what they assume is the sewers.  Eerie green pods of something litter the walls and ground, and there’s a fair smattering of purple grey spider webs that lighten the dark stones.

“Spirit!”

They turn, and see the Spider Queen just a foot or so away, bathed in green light from a crater shaped pool that has a green, bubbling liquid boiling within.  She’s grinning wide at them, and Spirit will say that, for a demon lost for half a millennium (that’s most demons, to be fair.  They all disappeared when the Demon Bull King did.  After all, if Monkey King could do that to someone, what would he do to them, the weaker ones?), she looks just as much of a threat as she did the last time they saw her.

They bow.

“Hello, Miss Queen,” they greet, and, after glancing back at the bag gripped tightly in their hand, they say “Would you like a mooncake?”

Spider Queen stares, for a moment, and then laughs. “Ha!  My, aren’t you sweet?” 

The sound of Spider Queen’s mechanical spider legs sends a shiver down Spirit’s spine, but Spirit has never minded spiders all that much.  As long as bugs stay away from them, in the sense that they don’t crawl onto them, Spirit leaves them be.  Spider Queen is more than just a bug, they suppose, and therein lies the danger.

They stand up, reach into their bag, and pull out a mooncake.

“This is just the thing I needed!” Spider Queen plucks the mooncake from Spirit’s hand.  “You would not believe the day I just had!”

She takes a bite and Mmms at the taste while Spirit fidgets silently.

“You know, I had my favorite meal taken from me, but this might be the next best thing.”

Spider Queen is a lot like Macaque, in the sense that they both talk a lot and Spirit never knows what to say in reply.  There’s a lot of bragging, grandiose statements and plotting, and then eventually an expectation of a response.  Spirit is never good at responses, though.

Then again, Spider Queen likes to hear herself talk a little more than she cares for a response.  She’s easier to handle, in that sense.  Macaque is harder.

“Would you mind giving me a buff, sweetheart?  As a favor.  I’ve got a bigger task for you, and it requires a bigger explanation.  Why waste the time, right?” Spider Queen holds out one of her mechanical spider legs.

“Right,” Spirit replies with a small smile.  “Of course.”

Lucky that they keep the polish for this sort of stuff on hand.  They pull it out with a rag and start to polish the metal, working out old scratches and making them disappear until the surface glitters like new.

“This town has become a hotbed of activity since ol’ Demon Bull King jumped out from the netherworld,” She starts, talking as Spirit works.  “I thought I’d sneak in and see what the fuss was about, maybe grab a meal or two.  It has been ages since the Spider Queen has ruled, and now that we’re allowed to play, I’m planning on rebuilding my empire!  The monkey boy came in and stole my meal, but he left behind a little piece of himself that I can use.”

She chuckles darkly at that notion.

“Monkey Boy?” Spirit inquires, moving onto the second leg.

“Ugh,” Spider Queen growls under her breath.  “Monkey King’s newest pet project.  He comes tearing in, stealing my perfectly good dinner, that little—” She cuts herself off.  

Spirit hands her another mooncake. She makes a motion with it in the air, huffing indignantly before continuing.  “His hair is enough to give my venom the kick it needs, but I don’t have the minions I used to.  I need tech.”

Spirit starts on the fourth leg.  The position they have to be to buff is uncomfortable, a strain on their back, but to complain would be stupid, so they deal with the pain.

“That’s where you come in, dear,” Spider Queen turns to them.

Spirit glances up.

“You’re good at getting information, and you probably understand this modern stuff better than I do.” She waves a hand, almost dismissive.  “I need someone to build me some spider robots to transport the venom.   You don’t need to worry about the transport, I’ve got Huntsman for that, but they don’t know what to look for.”

Spirit worked on finishing the fourth leg while they respond. “Of course, Miss Queen.  Does it matter if they’re a demon or not?” They like to know specifics.

“Pfft—no self respecting demon knows anything about these new fangled devices!  We thrive off of power and magic, not tech like phones!  Those are things humans use as a crutch,” Spider Queen rolls her eyes, huffing.

“...Right,” Spirit replies, pointedly not getting offended on Red’s behalf.

It’s okay.  She doesn’t know she’s being rude. Spirit stands up, having finished with buffing Spider Queen’s armory.

“I’ll get on it right away, Miss Queen.  Anything else?”  Spirit finds that being polite does wonders, and Spider Queen likes it when she’s called a Queen.

“Nope!  I’m gonna relax.  Good luck!” Spider Queen’s legs sound with metal clicks as she leaves, waving as she does so.

Spirit waits until they’re sure Spider Queen is far enough away for them to relax.  They turn, walking toward where they can hear open rushing water.  The sewers are essentially a river, and all rivers lead to the sea eventually.  Macaque taught them that.

It takes them around an hour to walk to the end of the sewers, climbing out of the pipe and sitting atop it.  

They’re just a few hundred yards away from the city’s docks.  They dangle their feet over the edge of the pipe and watch the rushing sewer water drain out into the sea.

They pull out their phone.

Red Son would likely know how to work robotics, but they’re supposed to find a human.  Plus, they don’t want to involve Red in this sort of stuff.  They can probably ask Mei.  She doesn’t know about their favor business, so she won’t be any the wiser, and she won’t feel guilty!  It’s the perfect plan.

‘Mei.

Hello!  It’s Spirit.  I was wondering about the technology of the city.  It is very advanced.  How was it constructed?  Who keeps it running?

Let me know if you know!

Spirit’

That should be inconspicuous enough to get Mei to start discussing things.  They don’t like dancing around subjects, but they don’t think this is the sort of thing they can just tell Mei about.  Mei is the type to have more of a moral backbone than Spirit does.  Spirit has their rules, of course, their lines in the sand, but they do most anything regardless of consequence.  What is good, what is bad; they don’t have the power to deliberate on that sort of thing.

If they were powerful enough that no one could hurt them, they would choose good, of course.  They don’t enjoy most of the work they do, they don’t find satisfaction in it besides the comfort of knowing that they’re a little safer, but it’s necessary.  They don’t have the luxury of knowing powerful people to protect them.  They don’t have anyone who would.

So they protect themself, somehow.  It works.

They pocket their phone, and head back towards the city.

They take a detour to the forest, because being in the sewers did nothing to keep them clean.  There’s a stream a few miles out of town that’s perfect for washing in, though, so that’s where they end up, carefully scrubbing the scent out of their clothes and fur and sunbathing on a rock.  They sprawl across it, back curved as their head hangs off one end and their feet and tail the other.  They have to bend their legs a bit, because the rock isn’t tall enough to keep every part of them off of the ground, but it’s mostly comfortable.

Just for a few hours, they let themself rest, polishing off the last few mooncakes as their fur and outfit dry.

They end up falling asleep and wake up as stars dot the sky.  The more they stare, the more their vision becomes unfocused, so that the lights triple in number.  It’s fun, sometimes, to have lopsided eyes.  It creates an interesting view.

They stretch, grabbing their now dry clothes and putting them on.  They’ll take a leisurely walk back to the city, maybe pick up breakfast.  Maybe.  They already ate something this week, and it’s not like they need much.  Why waste the money if it’s for something unnecessary.

Then again, Comes a voice that sounds a little bit like Macaque, a little bit like Father, and mostly like a part of themself they prefer to ignore; Were the mooncakes necessary?

Spirit doesn’t have an answer to that.

An hour’s walk gives them plenty of time to introspect, but Spirit prefers to avoid that.  Their mind is a winding road paved back centuries, but while it started with lovingly placed bricks somewhere along the way the materials were left shattered.  Glass and broken stone leaves feet bloody and pained, and you can’t go around, only through.  So Spirit chooses neither, and leaves the rest of the road to be forgotten.

The road they’re on now, the present, is made with a mosaic of materials they managed to cobble together, after everything broke.  It’s bumpy, there are cracks in the pavement, and you have to be careful.  Spirit is always careful, though; they’ve had the practice.

The issue with being so, so careful is that leaving behind the earliest stretches of road means they remember little of their childhood.  Spirit would never say it aloud, but they don’t remember their mother’s face.  To find that picture would mean flipping through the bloody pages of their photo album, and Spirit is, at the end of it all, a coward.

That’s enough thought for now.  We have to move things along.

Spirit thinks they can have a leisurely morning, but yet another token buzzes in their pocket, much to their chagrin.  Spirit wouldn’t say it, but sometimes it’s exhausting to be at everyone’s beck and call.  They signed up for it, however, they’ve no room to complain.

Reaching into their pocket, they pull out Yin and Jin’s token.  They frown, if only because Yin and Jin call them the most frequently and, often, the favors they’re called for are mundane and silly.  

Though, compared to the harder, less moral favors, they find these preferable.

They consider letting the token ring.  They’ve done that before.  Yin and Jin have so many favors put down that they get a little cavalier with how they interact with the pair.  The two used Spirit a lot before they knew how the system worked and realized using them as a crutch was a bad idea.

Apparently owing Spirit something is a bad thing.  Spirit can’t imagine why.

They sigh.  As much as Yin and Jin are long-time clients, that’s no excuse for being late or lazy.  They take a deep breath, and let the token whisk them away.

They arrive within the city, at the front step of a hideout.  Spirit recognizes the alley once they swivel their head around.  It’s a fair few miles in the middle of the city, where a lot of nooks and crannies lie between the bustling streets.  Perfect for hiding.  It’s not too far from the main road that it would be invisible, though Spirit isn’t sure if that’s because Yin and Jin want to be near the main road or if they just didn’t think about it.  With their general intelligence, it’s 50/50.

They step inside, posture straight.  All business.

“Hello,” they greet.

Inside is a rather sparse dwelling.  There’s what appears to be an unused kitchen off to the right of the main room.  Said room is a large expanse, and a dirty one at that.  At the back of it is a board, covered in pins and string, tying threads together in myriad ways that Spirit can’t quite decipher.  They see Mei up there.  A picture of Pigsy.  The rest are unrecognizable.

“Hey!” Yin calls.  

Spirit’s gaze drops down to them.  They’ve been taller than the two for centuries.

“Got a favor for ya,” Jin continues.

“I assumed,” Spirit replies.  “What do you need me to do?

Red eyes squint with twin sharp-toothed grins, and they pull out a large book.

“Well you see,” Yin starts.

“We wanna go after the Monkie Kid, yeah?” Jin continues.

“So we made a plan,” Yin finishes.

They open the book, straight to the middle, and on the page are...two steps illustrated.  Pretty self explanatory, in the sense that Spirit can tell that they want to use some sort of artifact to trap the Monkey King’s successor.

“So, we figured, Calabash,” Jin points to the first picture.  “We capture him in it, keep ‘im in there, right?”

“Right,” Yin agrees.

They look to Spirit.

“Right?” Spirit says.

They both nod.

“The thing is,” Jin moves on, which Spirit appreciates because they don’t know where this conversation is going, “The calabash is uh, in a museum.”

“It’s old,” Yin supplies.

“You want me to retrieve it for you?” Spirit parses out.

Yin and Jin smile again, all teeth.  It used to be intimidating, but, well, Spirit is older, and smarter.

Spirit is scared of everyone, but there’s a certain safety that comes with knowing that when push comes to shove, they just need to kill one to incapacitate the other.  They’ve seen the two when one is absent without cause.  They can use that, if needed.  Not that they would, but they could.  That makes them safe.

“Now you got it,” Jin crosses his arms over his chest.  

“Sound good?” Yin asks.

“Do I have a time limit?” Spirit likes to know the conditions.

They’re already working on one favor, and if they have to worry about the time limit of another favor, then they have to balance things.  Not that they do much else when not working on favors, but still.  They like to be a little organized.

“We’re gonna order from the restaurant the kid works at in a week or two,” Yin explains.

Spirit nods.  That gives them time.  They have a phone now, too, and Mei taught them how to search stuff on it, so they can look up the museum once they’re out.

“Okay,” They respond.  “Anything else?”

Yin and Jin glance at each other.  They have this way of communicating without words, and Spirit finds it kind of cool.  There’s a twitch of an eyebrow on one face, a small mouth movement on the other.  Their expressions don’t really change, just shift a little.

“Nah, we’re good,” Yin waves them off.

Spirit nods and vanishes without a farewell.

All in all, they don’t dislike Yin and Jin.  Sure, the two are loud and rambunctious, but so is Red, and Spirit could never dislike Red.  In a way, they’re almost jealous of the pair.  They have each other.  They have someone who will never leave, who could never leave.  Inseparable, two against the world.

One is the loneliest number, and maybe Spirit is just a little jealous to know a Yin who isn’t always alone. 

As they head off, scaling the wall and choosing to traverse the city over rooftops, they get a text.  It’s from Mei, a response to their earlier query.  Spirit stops, tail swishing back and forth as they perch on the edge of a roof, toes curled over the edge to grip it as they squat, leaning down to read the text.

‘hey spirit!

the city is the sum of hundreds of years of advancement, with tens of hundreds of programmers and hardware engineers building it up! ive been looking up a lot of them as inspo for my work in tech. 

i like this one programmer, syntax.  hes a mystery, theres only one public picture of him, but hes responsible for most of the tech in the city!  he was the leading programmer for the weather tower and has a bunch of patents he makes money off.  total recluse lol no one knows where he could even live near!  ive always wanted to meet him.  lemme send you some articles!!!!!’

Interspersed between the sentences are a deluge of emojis.  A lot of green hearts, a couple dragons, some rain clouds when mentioning the weather tower.  Beneath the text are a few articles.  Spirit squints.  They think they press their finger on those.

Sure enough, pressing their finger on the article pulls it up in a...they think Mei called it a web browser?  They should ask her next time they’re called over.

Or...well, Mei doesn’t know it, but they’re doing Spirit a favor, giving them this information, and if there’s anything Spirit fears, it’s being in someone’s debt.  She doesn’t know, but she could find out, and if she did, she could use them, she could hurt them—

Well, Mei doesn’t seem the type, but one never knows.

‘Mei.

Thanks.  I’ll read them soon.  Hey, do you want to meet someplace? I know your mother was not thrilled at my offer to teach you swordfighting, but I am still willing to.  As long as we meet away from your house.  I wouldn’t want to get in trouble.

Let me know!

Spirit.’

That should even things out.  A good lesson or two, maybe more.  Spirit would prefer to do more than less when repaying a debt, just to be sure.

They start to peruse the different articles.  The only public image they have of this programmer is striking.  He’s got eccentric hair and a small mustache.  He frowns at the camera, clearly displeased with having his picture taken, a pristine lab coat on and a pair of bright green glasses adorning his face.  There’s a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place as the picture is taken.

The only known thing that he does is go to a specific coffee shop.  Evidently, anytime he goes, the cameras in the area including phones stop working, thus contributing to the lack of photos.  People like to chat about him, simply because of the mystery of it.

They get a text back from Mei.

‘sounds great!  i know a place.  text u the deets later! <3’

Spirit smiles.

They decide to stake out the coffee shop this Syntax goes to.  It’s toward the outskirts of the city, small, with a reputation for using specially designed and grown beans that no one else can replicate.  Supposedly.  It keeps a low profile, as well as a very high end coffee shop can, but most people are priced out of it anyway.  From what Spirit read from reviews, a lot of people would get this coffee as a treat, something to save up for as a present on a weekend.  It’s a large place, and people often go to sit and relax for a while with their drink.

Syntax, evidently, goes there up to five times a week, to the point that his drink is memorized by everyone who works there.  He pays in cash, to avoid any trace that he was there, and then disappears.  People say he avoids being followed.

People, though.  Mortals.  They can’t see souls the way Spirit can.

They catch him on day two of their stakeout, and they sit, waiting, as he orders.  Cash is exchanged, and he walks away.  No one tries to follow him, but Spirit must, so they will.

They blink, and the world bursts into different colors.  Souls of all different shades, constantly interacting with one another.  Syntax’s soul is a neon green, with lavender lines within that resemble code.  The soul takes on the whole of the person, after all.  People more powerful can have souls that show it.  Spirit likes that.  They like knowing that they can always check if people are lying.

They follow, and soon realize why Syntax is so hard to follow.  Every turn and twist he sends out a...well, he can’t make clones, but they’re digital recreations of himself that continue walking in a different direction than the real Syntax is.  They’re near perfect, able to fool anyone who just saw them as is, but they don’t have souls.  

So Spirit follows the soul.

It’s a good hour walk, not that Syntax walks all the way.  Once he’s out of the main city area, he hops into a hover car that seems like a personal project (if the paint job is anything to say about it) and blasts off.  Spirit follows the trail, far enough behind that they can’t see Syntax but close enough that they can catch his colors in their eye.

It’s a good twenty minutes before they reach Syntax’s house.  It looks like a fortress, a large mansion gated and hidden.  Spirit takes a picture, grabs Spider Queen’s token, and disappears.

They were just told to locate him, after all.  They prefer that.  As much as Spirit is good at their job, they don’t like the thought of having to kidnap anyone, because the person would likely scream, or cry, or beg, and Spirit would have to see that.  

It’s easier if they don’t see it.  They already know it isn’t right, they don’t need the painful reminder.

Spider Queen’s lair is as dark and damp as they remember, with the added addition of an expansion of the green pool of bubbling liquid.  It has spread to little pods scattered about the place, glowing ominously with newfound energy.

“Miss Queen?” They call.  

Green eyes blink from the dark, and Spirit stays very still as she comes into view.

“Back so soon?” Spider Queen leans back on her mech, grinning like...what was the phrase Spirit had heard.  Like a cat who had caught the canary?  That’s it.

Spirit doesn’t know why it has to be a canary.  Cats eat plenty of birds.  And mice!  Odd.

“I have what you want,” Spirit replies, keeping it short and to the point.  “He’s an engineer and a programmer, and a recluse, so people probably won’t notice if he goes missing.  I have a picture of his house, and I can take you to it if you want, bu_t”

“That won’t be necessary,” Spider Queen waves a hand.  She clears her throat with intention, and Spirit tilts their head to the side as another figure comes out from the shadows.

“My Queen,” Huntsman’s voice is as gravelly as ever, and he bows a little in greeting.

Spirit gives him a small wave.  He rolls his eyes at them.  

Fair enough.

“I need you to hunt down this human.  He’s important to my debut as Queen of the world!  Spirit here has the details.”

Spider Queen gestures to them, and Spirit jumps a little as the weight of seemingly eyes all fall upon them.

“O-oh!” They fumble to pull out their phone.  “I have-uh-I have a photo of his house, so you can use that, and, uh—”

They look down, and Huntsman is suddenly very, very close to them.  They take a wary step back.  

He sniffs them.

“Were you just there?” He asks.

Spirit slowly nods, holding out their phone so Huntsman can see the picture of Syntax’s house.  He glances down at it, and then after scanning it over, nods decisively.

“I’ll have him here by tomorrow,” he promises.

“He-uh-!” Spirit raises a hand, pressing their fingers to their mouth in apprehension.  “His house looks very high tech.  There’ll uh-there’ll probably be, um, defenses.”

They haven’t talked to Huntsman or Goliath much, in the centuries they’ve been around to help Spider Queen with different things, but Huntsman gave them a knife once.  Said it was because they looked pathetic without a way to defend themself.  They didn’t want to tell him that they already had a weapon, so they kept the knife.  He got them one with a purple grip, even!  It was a nice gesture, and Spirit would like Huntsman to stay alive.

Not that they ever really want anyone dead, but they know it’s often an eventuality, and saving every person, wanting to keep every person they know around is hard, and will only lead to pain.  They know from experience.  Besides, they’re pretty sure no one would do anything to keep them alive.  If a tool breaks you can always get a new one, so Spirit is expendable, and expendable means that you can’t be expected to be kept safe.  They know from experience.  But they like certain hands that wield them over others, so they’d like those ones to remain, at least.

Huntsman grins, at that.

“I love it when they fights back,” he almost purrs before skittering off.

Spirit watches him leave, head tilted to the side.  They suppose it makes sense that he likes hunting, considering his name is Huntsman.  They wonder if his name was because of his type or his profession.  Or maybe his type dictated his profession?  Then again, there isn’t such a spider type as queen, so that’s a little silly to think about.

“Thank you, dear,” Spider Queen says, jerking Spirit out of their thoughts.

Spirit bows.  “Of course, Miss Queen.”

When they stand up, there’s a bag of money—smaller than the one Macaque gave them, but hefty nonetheless—being offered to them.

“You’re too skinny,” Spider Queen says. “I can’t have a servant of mine looking half starved!  Do something about it.”

Spirit blinks.  They didn’t think they were too skinny.  Sure, they could feel their ribs easily, but that's nice, because whenever they break their ribs they can figure out which one super fast.  It’s useful.  They don’t want to disappoint Spider Queen, though, and while she didn’t say it was a favor she is giving Spirit money, so they might as well get something to eat as a job well done gift.

They ignore how that thought makes their stomach squirm.  How they feel about the jobs they are given does not matter.  It never has.

“Of course,” They repeat, taking the bag.  With another bow, they leave.

Thankfully, this trip hasn’t ruined their clothes, so they don’t need to wash them.  They leave through a manhole cover in an alley, and when they peek their head out to see where they are, Bitter Sweets stares them down from across the street.

Well, at least they know they’ll like something from the shop, right?

The bell above the door rings in their ears long after the sound leaves the room, and Almond comes in with a smile that is slowly becoming familiar.  It’s almost motherly, but Spirit wouldn’t say that, because if they did they’d have to run.  Run before the motherly figure burns to dust, disappears for the sole reason of being motherly to them, of all people. 

So for now, they say it is kind, and warm, and comforting.

“Spirit!” she grins up at them.

Spirit smiles hesitantly back.

“More mooncakes?” Almond prompts.

“Yes,” They nod, toes curling in excitement.

Nostalgia hurts a little, but it’s nice, too.  “And—” they start, because Almond is kind, and open, and soft and Spirit can be brave a little. “Maybe, um, you could recommend some stuff?  I-uh,” They rub the back of their neck sheepishly.  “I don’t know the names of most of this.”

They gesture to the display case lamely.

Almond’s smile somehow gets softer, and her eyes light up with excitement.  Spirit’s tail swishes back and forth with a calm joy from making someone happy.

“Of course,” Almond replies.

Getting the Calabash is, unsurprisingly, boring.  Stealing an item is much easier than tracking a person.  One quick search and they find it in a museum, nestled near the center of the city.  Sneaking in is easy, because while they are tall, they’re quiet, flexible, and smart.  That, and the people here are very lax in security.  Being so used to peacetime makes people complacent.  In a way, Spirit is relieved that they have known conflict most of their life.  It keeps them sharp.

They don’t know what to do in peacetime.  There’s always something to do, a job to accomplish.  A fight to help with.  What else can they do?

The only thing that gives them pause is the existence of two Calabashes.  One, older and far larger, is stated as the original.  Evidently, using a mix of demon magic and more modern technology, a new one was made, one that aimed to capture rather than kill.  

Yin and Jin never specified which one they wanted.  If Spirit was to guess, they know the pair would want the original.  The one that melts whoever is trapped within.  The one that kills.

Spirit doesn’t kill children.  And they don’t know the Monkey King’s successor, but he’s a child.  Younger than they are.

Are they a child?  Were they ever?

So they hedge their bets on the idea that Yin and Jin won’t notice the difference, and pick the newer, kinder one.

The pair does not notice.  They’re a bit scatterbrained like that.  Or maybe they don’t care.

Once the Calabash is secured and delivered, Spirit sits atop a random building, chewing on leftover pastries from their last visit to Almond’s bakery.  The sunset is looking awfully nice, but Spirit thinks that the charm is lost once you lose someone to watch them with, so they pull out their phone.

In the news section, there is a small article about Syntax abandoning his favorite coffee shop.  The article supposes that he picked another spot to get his caffeinated beverages.  There are thousands of comments speculating, wondering where he could have gone.

Spirit knows the truth.  The weight of that, the guilt, sits at the bottom of their stomach like a stone.

But there’s a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand stones sitting there, and they’ve been dragging Spirit down for a long time.  One more isn’t going to change much, isn’t going to drag them deeper down than they already are.  They’ve been drowning for centuries.  Drowning, mouth clenched shut, holding in their final breath, as if the moment they let it go they’d finally succumb to the suffocation pressing against them on all sides.  

When they were younger, they’d claw to the surface, take a breath or two, before another stone weighed them lower.  The sunlight doesn’t reach them, with how deep they are now.  Nothing does, because Spirit is alone.  That’s what happens when you hurt everyone around you, isn’t it?

One of these days, they were going to let go.  One of these days, they’d open their mouth, and finally they would be able to scream.

Sometimes all Spirit wants to do is let go, scream, and drown. 

They look at the sunset.  It’s looking awfully nice, don’t you think?

[twisted-in-wonderland-jay]

A Twisted Wedding

Posted this on my Instagram but I had to cut a lot out so here’s the full version!!

Notes

Gender neutral

If not specified assume a white wedding or make up your own. If the guests are not stated it’s friends and family

The wedding is in Twisted Wonderland not our world.

You choose the dress/suit you wear

If something is unclear and you wish you see what I’m talking about send me a DM and I’ll try to help.

Malleus

black theme maybe green thrown in

The ring is a unique Emerald cut (three white jewels) for his special someone

only guests are the Diasomnia gang, and parents

though he’s a prince he wants this to be a private affair.

Remembers vows perfectly, the vows are very loyal and cheesy

Lilia

family, and the members of the Diasomnia gang are guest

he goes for a large romantic ring so people know your taken

green and silver theme

At night, in gazebo lit by fairy lights

Spring time

Silver

White and light blue theme

You both wear light blue almost white clothes

Simple wedding

Sliver makes sure not to sleep during this!

Comfy and calming reception

Spring wedding

Simple classy ring with little blue and white jewels

Leona

Outside

Pear design ring

Tan (think the color of dead plants), and pastel green, and white

He wears a white suit

Lots of dancing

Probably held in the forest

NO KIDS!!

Would not invite family but you sent invites. Cheka is the ring bearer.

If you were the one who proposed he would only agree if you beat him in a fight.

Malleus would find his way to the wedding or send a couple gifts

Leona is so pretty!! Like in his Fairy gala outfit

Leona is strangely flustered seeing you

Simple vows

Grabs you and kisses you before the priest can finish saying “you may kiss the bride/groom.”

Jack

Invites a lot of people: Vil who invites Rook, and epel, Leona (who surprisingly shows up), Ruggie, Riddle, Deuce, and Cater; of course family.

On a cliff next to the sea and a forest

Gold and sliver theme gold being only accent

Tries to be tough and not cry but kinda does...

Vows include being honest, and putting us first

Cute little princess ring (square jewel)

Ruggie

Vows include something about sharing food, not having a lot but willing to give it all to you.

Tan and white wedding

Held in the fall

Blushing mess

Forgot a line in his vows

Guests: Epel, Leona, Rook, family.

Not small but nothing like Vil’s venue. He wanted you give you a good wedding but since he doesn’t have a lot he tried his best.

Really doesn’t want a lot of guests

Tan plaid vest, tan suit jacket and pants, small bow tie.

In a field of sun flowers

If you went out on anything it would be the ring it’s a Asscher style ring simple yet elegant inside is engraved with the words “forever, till the end of time”

Vil

Big. BIG!!! Venue in a castle

You both wear small gold crowns

Navy blue and gold theme

Wants you to be prettier then him😱

Ballroom dancing!!

Stay the night there

Very romantic but a small bit of narcissistic words in his vows (promises to be loyal but some people just can resist him)

Doesn’t wear over 3 inch heels at wedding because he doesn’t want to tower over you (just this once(he thinks the photos of you kissing would look awkward))

Photos for weeks posted on Magicam showing you off

Wears his hair up insist you do the same

Every student in Night Raven Collage is invited as long as he knows them (aka everyone named in the game, staff, and all students in Pomefiore)

Epel and Rook help you both get ready

Wedding is 2 months after proposal

Spares no expense

Does all the planning with you but doesn’t go to pick and dress wanting to see you in the dress on the wedding but sends Rook and Epel to help (they have good fashion sense right?)

Spa days every couple of days making sure you and he have clear, soft, and beautiful skin, hair and body.

Okay... a large romantic ring with eccentric designs

Rook

In nature

Guests: Epel, Vil, Ruggie, Azul, the twins, Leona, and Trey; family too.

Vows are very creative, and poetic

Blue suit the one he wears in the groom-for-a-day event

Doesn’t wear hat (unless you want him to)

When he kisses you he pulls his hat out and kisses you behind it

Red, white, and blue wedding

Marquise style ring

Epel

Out in the country

Spring season (late spring)

Spring decor (pastels)

Small (he doesn’t like the idea of a big wedding)

Flowers everywhere

You wear a follower crown

Guest: Family, residents of town, Riddle and the others, Jack, and Ruggie. He still has harsh feelings towards Vil so he wasn’t invited (unless you invite him)

Suit is what he wore for the Groom-For-A-Day event

Held in an apple tree forest (because of the blossoms)

Cuts hair a bit so to not be feminine

(This is a couple of years after the events of the game and (I hope) epel has gotten taller, and looks more manly(not too manly though because y’all probably like him because of his feminine looks))

Idia

White and light blue wedding

Guests: Ortho, and family (sorry but he’ll get to nervous)

Smiling a lot but a soft smile

Crying.... he’s totally crying

Ortho or Azul is best man

If Azul is best man Ortho is the ring bearer

At night, in a little gazebo

Blue roses and other flowers

White jacket, light blue vest, blue tie

His hair is in the ponytail

You wear a vail (male or female) it’s something Idia wants to do: Lift the vail or his Lover at the wedding.

Jade

In the forest

Sunny

Black and white wedding

Guests: Floyd, Azul, family, Grim (you invite others)

The shoe wedding game

Small gathering

Fun games

Simple and versatile ring

Floral theme

Jade has a lovely smile on and it’s a genuine, caring, smile

Floyd

Ocean theme

Guests: Jade, Azul, family, Ace, Deuce, Riddle, and Grim

The ring is a basic silver ring with little blue waves painted on and tiny white jewels on top of the waves

The inside says “No ocean can keep us apart”

In an under water glass room

Fish swim around the tank like room

Jelly fish decor for the lighting

Surprisingly he’s calm and not embarrassing you or him

After while your eating he whispers a comment that you are looking “fine”

Azul

Winter

All White/silver and gray

Ice skating

Azul is a blushing mess but his best man Jade is there to calm him a bit

Azul’s vows include something about him not being worthy of you, but you assure him that he’s the one for you

Jamil

Simple

Probably no guests or just a couple friends

You can invite Kalim, but Jamil might not

Inside a church (for privacy)

Kinda cries as you walk down the aisle

Black and white theme

Tells you he will always be there for you over anyone else.

Private affair

Somehow you convinced him to hold a wedding. He just wanted to sign the papers a keep it to yourself

Kalim

A party right after!

Lots of food and fun

Lots and lots of guests

But it’s a cute white wedding

The reception not so much...

Spares no expense

In his vows he tells you he won’t party to much and how much he really really loves you

Riddle

Fancy

Red and gold!!!

Mostly red

Groom-For-A-Day suit

You wear a rose flower crown

In rose garden some painted some not

Your vows are beautiful he almost cries

He invites his mother even though you don’t like the idea

Guests: family, Heartslabyul, Malleus, Sebek, you invite Floyd, Jade, and Azul for fun, sliver, Lilia, and Che’nya.

Big wedding for not like Vil’s it has its quaint charm to it.

A lot nicer then you though, though we all know Ace would do something to result in “Off With Your Head” though Ace tried his best not to.

Ace

Sneak out of your own wedding

Red and Black theme

Wears the ghost bride suit but hairs not tied back

Guest: Heartslabyul, Floyd, Jamil, family.

Probably does the conga line dance

Fun time

Ring is emerald cut

The Heartslabyul gang asks after being told your getting married If your sure you want this one? You whole heartedly say yes.

Cater

all of his magicam followers on a live stream, the Heartslabyul gang, family, Vil, Jack, Kalim, and Lilia.

White and red

In a church

Winter

White roses and red daisies

Crazy vows just some random stuff he came up with

Lots of dancing!!

White and red suit

NO RED ROSES!

Loads of gifts

Cute ring pear shaped gold accent

Trey

Light green and white

Light green is accent

Cute vows remembers every line even though he’s flustered

In a Church

Too cute

Guests: Heartslabyul, che’nya, and family.

Deuce

Blue and gold

Star theme (maybe it’s because I love the wish upon a start event)

Rents out an observatory

You can see the stars clearly

So romantic

Vows have something to do with loving you to the end of the universe and back

Slow dance under the stars

Romantic?! What we’re talking about Deuce right?!

This is after Deuce stops getting flustered by just talking to you.

Sebek

Medieval theme

You can’t tell me this man doesn’t love the medical Europe aesthetic of Knights and Princess

You have to wear a crown

You both run under swords to the carriage/car

Traditional vows and promise to protect you

Surprisingly doesn’t talk much about Malleus

Guests: Family, Riddle and the Diasomnia gang

Malleus gives many gifts

Lilia is so happy and proud of him even though he didn’t raise the boy

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Those Linked by Destiny (1)

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Natasha are on a mission to once again defeat Hydra who this time had opened a time portal that unleashed monsters and beasts that were extinct for centuries for good reason. On the way, they try to recruit the only remaining person who had any knowledge on how to defeat these creatures. Her kind also almost extinct. A Witcher.

Fandoms: Avengers, The Witcher

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Witcher!OFC (Female)

Warnings: Angst (coz this is me), Dry Dark Humour, Violence, Gore, Lots of Blood, Burning Sarcasm, Lots of Cussing

A/N: Hello, beautiful creatures! I’m back with a new hurricane of a crossover. This continues on from my completed series There’s More Than One Way To Start An Apocalypse (AvengersxSupernatural) but this can be read by itself. I made this an OFC instead of an xReader since I needed to be specific with how the Witcher character looked. I hope you enjoy and I welcome all kinds of feedback.

No permission is granted to repost my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Masterlist

1: Returning a Favor

The sun was preparing to set when Sam, Bucky, and Natasha reached the small sleepy town. Their clothes were starting to scratch and bite at their skin from the sweat and grime of trying to make it to their destination on foot. They had been taking back roads and keeping to thick forests to keep hidden from Hydra and the monsters they had unleashed. It hasn't always gone smoothly for them.

The Avengers and Team Free Will had split up to tackle three major missions; hunting down every remaining grace powered monster created by the Archangel Michael, re-establishing the Avengers initiative and operations, and this new unfamiliar threat. They had discovered that Hydra was back and had opened a portal that unleashed creatures that were wholly unknown to even the Hunters.

The trio was tasked with gathering as much intel as they could and searching for a friend of Natasha and the Nephilim who they said was the only person who could help them. It had taken them eight months to track down someone who was practically a ghost.

They were all on edge and nearly losing hope, but finally they got a lead on an exact location. It took nearly two weeks to reach the town after a particularly nasty encounter with a cluster of monsters. They were outnumbered and had no knowledge about the enemy to even properly fight. They barely made it out alive.

Sam sat on the forest floor with his back to the trunk of a tree clutching his open abdomen. He was bleeding on the grass and the first aid they had been continuously applying on him was the only thing keeping him alive at this point. They needed to get him patched up properly. Bucky switched his legs to lean more on his left as he crouched behind thick shrubbery beside Natasha. Judging by the sharp pain from his other leg, he was sure it was broken. The female assassin wasn't any better off having taken multiple large slashing wounds to her back.

Bucky suggested that they go back to Avengers headquarters. It was Natasha though that insisted this is where they needed to go. They needed to lie low, heal, regroup, and find backup, but they were running out of time. The more time Hydra was left alone, the worse it was going to get. Bucky was skeptical, especially with Sam clinging on to his life, but he knew that Natasha was in fact right.

In front of them was a medium sized log cabin tucked away in the forest with a garden and a small greenhouse out back. Bucky's enhanced senses could pick up common vegetables and herbs like tomatoes, carrots, and basil, but he also caught whiffs of plants that smelled like exotic flowers of some sort. The house was still fairly close to town with only a 45-minute drive but it was miles away to the next house.

The serene silence of the isolated area was disrupted by peels of laughter from a group of children that were running around the garden. Their hands and clothes were stained with either paint or dirt. Some more gleeful that they had both. Bucky frowned. 

Were they supposed to seek shelter in a daycare?

The children would surely be scarred for life if they saw the Falcon bleeding out nevermind who his two companions were. His worry for his friend’s wellbeing clouded the Sergeant’s capability to grasp why this was where they needed to be.

The slow crunch of tires on the dirt road followed by two soft beeps disrupted Bucky's tired brooding. A mini bus parked beside a weathered brown truck in the driveway. A woman came out the back door clutching a child, that was practically a baby with how small it was, securely to her chest. Bucky couldn't see her face, only her slender figure and the wavy hair that fell down her back in a mess of random pastel colors that seemed to be popular with the youth these days. Her short yellow sun dress flowed with each movement she made.

Bucky's doubts at Natasha's plan grew. How could this hipster possibly help them? The low groan of pain from behind reminded him that they had no choice at this point. They were here now and Sam needed urgent medical attention. He would just have to trust Natasha a bit more.

He watched as she instructed the children to put away their art materials and wash up. He watched as she hugged or petted each beaming child as they boarded the mini bus. He watched as she carefully strapped in the baby in his designated seat while exchanging conversation with the middle aged driver who smiled warmly at her. He still couldn't see her face, but he could hear her laugh at something the driver said. After a final wave the bus full of energetic children started to pull out of the driveway.

Bucky's doubts continued to gnaw at him, but now for a different reason. This woman seemed so kind and carefree. Must they really disturb her peaceful life for their chaos? He turned then to voice his worries to Natasha, but before he could get a word out he felt an unbelievably strong force hit his chest and propel him backwards. He was forcefully pinned to a tree with the air knocked clear out of his lungs.

His first instinct was to fight back, but opening his eyes after the attack he froze when he met with the most peculiar yet mesmerizing pair. Round almond shaped and framed with thick heavy lashes were eyes the color of bright molten gold with irises in dark slits like that of a cat's. He would swear they were contacts if he didn't notice how they stretched and dilated as they retained their murderous gaze on him. Her hair fell like a cloud around her face softening her sharp bone structure and the snarl on her gloss covered lips.

So enthralled was Bucky at her unique features, that it took him an embarrassingly long time to register the double bladed axe she held easily with one hand outstretched flush against the skin of his throat. One small flick of her wrist and Bucky would be bleeding to his death in minutes.

"Why have you brought him here, Natasha?" she said, her voice even and low. Bucky noticed a European accent but he couldn't quite place which particular area.

"You know me?" Bucky met her unfaltering glare with his own.

"Everyone knows you, Winter Soldier," she sneered. "Everyone knows all of you."

Bucky scowled at the name. He didn't appreciate the tone she had when she said it. There was an obvious disdain and anger in her tone that he wasn't sure was warranted.

"Easy, Prima. We need your help," Natasha tried to coax her but she did not advance in case she gets provoked.

"And if I refuse?"

"Well then I'm cashing in that favor."

There was a long tense silence before his throat was reluctantly freed. He rubbed the shallow angry line it had left. The woman with cat-like eyes sighed as she swung the large weapon to hook over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. She rolled her eyes before she turned and gestured for you all to follow.

Bucky noted how Natasha's shoulders sagged in relief. She was worried that her contact might decline. They each took one of Sam's sides and practically hauled his barely conscious form to the cabin. They followed the woman into her home, the receding skyline bouncing light and shadow on her figure. It wasn't even ten minutes ago that Bucky was hesitant to disrupt this woman's very normal life, but normal people don't just carry battle axes let alone have the skill to wield it.

"Natasha," he whispered. "What exactly is she?"

Natasha had told them a little about Witchers in between dashing from town to town, but it amused Prima that Bucky was still thoroughly surprised when they actually met her. Clearly she didn't go into the specifics.

He could hear the smirk in her tone despite still having her back to them. She had heard his hushed question despite walking far ahead of them and decided to answer.

"Perhaps we can discuss my nature when your friend is no longer seeping Water Hag poison from his wounds."

"So that's what that thing was. How do you know it's Water Hag poison?" Natasha grunted under Sam's weight.

"I can smell it and that's the only reason I'm granting you this favor."

Prima rushed inside her home ahead of her guests, going quickly to the kitchen to pull out a large tarpaulin from under the sink. She was definitely going to help them but that didn't mean she was going to damn well leave an Avenger to bleed all over her precious furniture.

She opened the chest that doubled as a coffee table and pulled out thick worn blankets. She was already laying these out on the floor by the fireplace by the time the rest of them came through the front door.

Bucky surveyed the room as he entered. It was a force of habit to commit every detail to memory when entering a new environment. Normally it could mean life or death, but in this instance it was pure curiosity with a healthy mix of suspicion. 

From the outside, the cabin had looked a decent size but from the inside it looked much bigger. He thought that perhaps it was too much space for someone he presumed was living alone.

The house was a mixture of modern and rustic decorated in wood, metal, and splashes of vibrant color here and there. A gray short hair cat perked up in attention from its bedding as they entered. The main floor was open with no walls dividing areas and a set of stairs led to a spacious loft that again had no partitions. Large windows lined the walls providing an almost 360 degree view to the outside. It was almost like being in a glass box, but he knew for a fact that those windows were heavily tinted outside providing the utmost privacy. The state of the home told Bucky a lot about its owner.

"Lay him down here," Prima said pointing to the makeshift cot. "It's best he is by the fire. We need to keep him warm."

Natasha and Bucky gently laid down their friend as instructed. Sam groaned as the material pressed on his injuries and Natasha made quick work of cutting him out of his ruined tactical gear with her knife. His body relaxed the slightest bit after being freed but this also meant that his wounds opened again to spill more of his blood on the tarpaulin.

"It's worse than I thought," Prima murmured. "Take this and apply pressure to the worst of it. I must prepare a few things."

Natasha nodded as she took the towels from her. She rushed through the back door and from its opening, Bucky could see that she went straight into her greenhouse. She was back within minutes carrying a small woven tray filled with plants he couldn't even begin to identify. The cat followed closely on her heels, the small bell on its neck ringing softly.

She headed straight for the other end of the room to what he initially thought was a library and craft area. Looking at it closely now he could see not only books but a wide array of jars, bottles, and small boxes. She grabbed two containers from the shelves and dropped its contents into a wooden bowl. She began mashing and mixing them together quickly before pouring the strange yellowish liquid into glass vials. She grabbed a few more bottles from the shelves before making her way to kneel by Sam's head.

"Help me sit him up. He needs to drink this."

"I'm not sure about this, Nat," came Bucky's worried tone as he eyed their host with narrowed eyes.

"Bucky!" Nat warned. They didn't have time for this.

"What the hell is even in that?"

"Sergeant Barnes, would you like me to educate you on the finer points of alchemy before or after we save your dying friend?" Prima argued, her jaw clenching. "Clock is ticking, Sergeant. The choice may well be taken from you soon."

Bucky's teeth gritted together as his whole body tensed with the decision. His brow was in knots, but ultimately he knew there was only one decision to make. He cursed under his breath but moved to heave Sam into a sitting position.

Prima uncorked one of the bottles and tipped it over Sam's lips carefully making sure that he took every drop. His face scrunched at the taste but his eyes remained closed, too exhausted to open them. His breathing started to speed up until they were shallow huffs and his temperature steadily rose.

"What the hell's happening to him?" Bucky fumed but Prima held out her hand to halt him as she carefully watched Sam's reactions with her strange cat eyes that were now narrowed into slits.

The air in the room was thick with tension and the only sounds were that of Sam's heavy breathing that was rapidly growing more laborious. When it seemed like he was at the height of his torment, Prima acted fast and shoved a second vial of clear liquid to his lips. He almost choked on the liquid but by some grace of the gods he managed to swallow it all.

After the last drop had gone down his throat, his eyes shot wide open before fluttering close as he dropped unconscious against the pillows. Bucky panicked when he couldn't hear his heartbeat and was about to lash out at Prima again when suddenly a faint thump that was fighting to get steadier met his ears in a manner that was uniquely stubborn like Sam.

Prima took a hand to feel his sweaty face and was relieved to find that his temperature was dropping closer to normal. They were past the worst of it now and she was grateful he took well to the potions. It was a gamble. Humans were not meant to take in Witcher brews. She could have just as easily killed him.

"He should be fine by morning. We must allow the potions do the work for now. I'll keep watch in case he needs another dose."

She grabbed one of the other bottles in her stash and tossed one to Natasha who easily caught it. The assassin raised a quizzical brow at her.

"Take only a small sip, Natasha. Pour the rest of it in the bath upstairs and take a long soak. It should help close up your wounds. You are welcome to rummage through my drawers for clean clothes."

"What happens if she takes more?" Bucky asked.

"Well all her injuries and even scars from her childhood will cease to exist. Every broken bone and illness will be cured," she shrugged as she relaxed against a wall stretching out her legs in front of her. She closed her eyes to allow the tension of the last hour to ease off her body as she absentmindedly stroked the cat that had now curled up contentedly beside her.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Natasha mused before carefully taking only the small sip she recommended.

"And then you die," the Witcher chuckled allowing a sharper than usual canine to peak out from her smile.

Bucky was not amused despite Natasha chuckling at the comment before making her way up the stairs. He was understandably wary of anything chemical to be put inside his body after what Hydra had done to him. Their host seemed to somehow sense this so made no move to offer him any concoction for his injuries.

"Bathroom's through the door behind you should you fancy a shower, Sergeant. There should be clothes in the cupboards too but they might be a tad tight. I'll go into town in the morning to purchase more appropriate wear for you and your friend. First aid kit is under the sink."

Bucky gave a small nod as he silently walked to the door she gestured to. As he meticulously washed the dirt and fatigue from his body, he found his thoughts straying to their unusual host. He had realized that her accent was classic old European, with the kind of vocabulary that prim and proper upper-class citizens used. What did not make sense though was how a European socialite would have the practiced ease of wielding a battle axe. Her cat eyes alone tipped him off that she was not merely human. The more he thought about it, the more everything he knew so far contradicted with each other. He was no closer to figuring her out when he stepped out of the bathroom adjusting the shirt and jeans that clung to him.

He saw the Witcher sound asleep on the floor, her head lolled to the side and her mouth softly parted. There were a million questions he wanted to ask her, but he couldn't bring himself to disrupt her peaceful sleep. He instead made his way to crash on the sofa. Sleep came to him as soon as his head met the arm rest. He drifted off with the Witcher's eerie eyes the last on his mind and a nagging feeling that there was something about her that was strangely familiar to him.

Masterlist | Tags are Open

[omiluvbug]

Office Hours (Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader oneshot)

This oneshot can be viewed on AO3 and Wattpad too!

You woke up at around 6:30 am as the sun's rays peeked through the shallow gaps in the curtains by your window. This created soft rays of light traveling through the room, basking the plain white walls in soft hues of orange and yellow. You patted the bed as you looked for your alarm clock which blared an overly obnoxious sound. 

Groaning, you got up, your hair a tangled mess as well as your patterned pajamas. You threw your blanket to the side as you stretched out her limbs. You contemplated on whether to stay in bed or go to work. You didn't really want to go to work today. Just the thought of you sitting down at your boring table for 8 hours doesn't seem that much exciting. You'd rather stay at home and curl up in your chair by the window, looking out to a nice view of the city. 

However, you couldn't really risk getting scolded so early in the morning in front of a lot of people. Just the thought of it deeply embarrassed you. Sighing, you got up and lazily fixed your queen-sized bed, throwing pillows on top of another and draping the blanket over the comforter.

You quickly did her morning routine—washing your face and brushing your teeth, then changing into your usual office attire and applying some makeup. Afterwards, you quickly fixed your hair before going to the kitchen to prepare a small breakfast. You scrolled through her phone as you ate, laughing slightly at ridiculous posts of some strangers on the internet.

You liked these kinds of moments; moments where you would usually be just by yourself in the morning, enjoying your breakfast as you looked through her phone, or listening to songs as you made food or cleaned the house. It was mundane for sure, just a normal day-to-day living, but it provided you a sense of comfort, even just for a little bit.

"Oh crap!" You quickly jumped to your feet as you noticed the time. You didn't realize that you were on your phone for far too long. If you don't get out of the house now, you'll miss your train. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder as you wore whatever colored pump you could find. You then dashed through the door, making your way towards the train station which was a 10 minute walk away from home.

"Woah there, careful," Said a man with long hair tied into a bun and bangs perfectly framing his face. His hands were on your arm, preventing you from tripping on the boxes on the floor. He wore deep navy pants with the jacket loosely hanging from his arm. Two buttons of his white dress shirt were opened, making you look elsewhere.

"We don't want anyone tripping over these boxes now, don't we?" He implied, looking at you as if he was waiting for some sort of response. "You alright there, Y/N?"

"My apologies, Mr. Getou!" You said, your eyes wide open and your lips slightly agape. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I—"

Getou chuckled, waving a dismissive hand in front of you. "It's alright, dear." He bent down to pick the stray boxes up before placing them on top of a random table. He then looked at his watch, his eyebrows rising. "You better get to where you're going if you don't want to be scolded. CEO's a handful when he's mad."

Flashing you another smile, Getou began walking away and disappeared into a nearby hallway. Suguru Getou is the operations manager of the company, responsible for hiring new staff members and training them, as well as monitoring personnel documentation, to name a few. He works alongside Satoru Gojo who deals with financial statistics of the company.

"Yuji! Hurry up!" You turned and saw three unfamiliar faces walking in the hallway. Two of them were boys, while one of them was a girl with orange colored hair and a frown on her face. She wore a pastel pink suit with a white dress shirt underneath. They looked young, and perhaps maybe a little bit out of place.

"It's your damn fault we're running late!" She hissed, glaring at the boy with pink hair and lightly hitting him with her bag. The boy stuck his tongue out like a little kid, causing the lady to scoff.

"Me? Blame Megumi! He's the one who stopped at a nearby park just to pet the dogs and won't leave until he called each one of them 'good girls' and 'good boys!'"

"Leave me out of this," the other boy said grumpily, shaking his head as he walked away and left the two. 

"Interns! Right here!" Ijichi called, calling the attention of the three. The three rushed towards the man, the girl's coffee almost spilling along the way.

Ah, so that's why they were unfamiliar to you, they're interns. You smiled a bit as you looked at the three playfully bickering while following Ijichi. It reminded you of your friends way back in high school. Suddenly, you wondered how they were doing. You're not much in contact with them these days as everyone is busy with their own lives. Besides, they weren't making much of an effort on trying to contact you anyway. 

"Get going, lady. These hallways are not the place to hang around, no?" said Satoru Gojo, who was followed by Shoko Ieri, the team's assistant manager. Shoko was quick to slap the man's bicep, scolding him for being so rude so early in the morning.

"Alright, geez. My bad." Gojo's hands were in his pockets as he walked, his head casually tipping to the side as he looked at the woman before her before paying attention to you. He was wearing his usual black sunglasses. Why he wore it inside the building was something you didn’t know the reason for. "Good Morning, Y/N."

"Good Morning," You greeted back, causing the man to grin and the lady to smile. 

"I see you're running late today." There was a teasing tone evident in his voice. He was going to say something more when Shoko tugged him closer, shaking her head and widening her eyes at him. 

"Right, well," Gojo stuttered, gently removing Shoko's hand from his bicep. "See ya around, Y/N!" They began walking away, muttering something amongst themselves. You even caught a glimpse of Gojo looking back at you and chuckling which left you confused. What was that about?

Perhaps everyone was running late today. It was quite understandable as it was Monday. You spotted a few people rushing inside the building as you clocked in. You placed your card back to the holder before making your way to the 5th floor, where you usually do her work. You were in the Public Relations Department, mostly coordinating public events for the company, helping in gaining favorable media coverage, and maintaining the company's relationship with investors among others. 

As you arrived at her floor, you quickly made your way towards your table and placed your bag on the chair before throwing away the crumbled paper you failed to discard the day before. You greeted your coworkers as you didn't want to seem rude.

The floor was brightly lit because of the huge windows that enabled natural light to pass through the transparent material. The floor was tiled and there were gorgeous wood accents plastered on the wall. Wood wall dividers were also used to separate the work space from the couch—where the employees would usually sit down during breaks to chat or wind down. And instead of cubicles, there were tables, allowing the employees to easily talk to each other when needed. 

"Good morning! Here's some morning newspapers, Y/N." The head of the PR Department, Iori Utahime, greeted you with a smile. "Morning assembly meeting starts in a few minutes. We're just waiting for the CEO."

"He's running late too, Ms. Utahime?" You wondered why, but then you remembered that the CEO had a very important business meeting to attend over the weekend in Osaka.

"Seems like everyone is. It's a monday after all." She clapped her hands behind her back, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "I almost missed my train earlier! I had to run out of the house with bread in my mouth  while  fixing my hair."

You looked at the lady before you. She doesn't look disheveled, infact, she looked presentable as always. Her hair was combed nicely and was in a half-up half-down updo—she even had a little bow tied on her hair which you thought was quite adorable. Her white dress shirt and red pencil skirt was tailored to her body perfectly, leaving no unflattering gaps in the material. 

"Good thing I made it in time though," she added as she mindlessly twirled a strand of hair on her hands. "I regret binge watching that drama last night."

You scrunched her face, knowing the feeling of staying up all night and regretting it the following morning. Utahime laughed, finding your reaction cute, before she patted your shoulders before bidding you a short goodbye. She went to the other's tables, greeting them a good morning and asking them about their plans for the day.

As you waited for the meeting to begin, you turned your desktop on and browsed through the emails. You frowned upon seeing some spam mails and quickly discarded them to the bin. You made a mental note to tell the head director that a certain investor wanted to make some changes with some of the deals. After that, you then skimmed through your newspaper, catching up on news that she might have missed over the weekend. 

 Soon, it was 9 am and the morning assembly meeting started. You stood up straight as their CEO, Kento Nanami, entered the floor alongside his trusty secretary, Yu Haibara, as well as a few other people. All eyes followed him as he walked towards the front of the room. You almost missed it, but the three interns were with them too, following Ijichi like they're lost puppies. 

The CEO's face was stern, yet he returned the smiles the other employees gave him. Your breath hitched when you two made eye contact, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Nanami briefly smiled at you before turning his attention back to the other employees. However, the lingering feeling stayed with you. Oh my god.

It almost felt silly feeling butterflies over a brief eye contact. You were already an adult yet you still act like a lovestruck high school student whenever you meet eyes with your crush. However, you accepted the way you felt around Nanami. He was intelligent, polite, poised, extremely good-looking, and a gentleman. 

You couldn't help but to sigh. What was there to not swoon over for? He's literally the real deal. 

You noticed that he was more casual with the way he dressed today. Rather than his usual cream-colored suit paired with a blue dress shirt underneath and his partnered tie, he wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his expensive watch on one hand and toned arms. He paired it with a pair of off-white tapered pants. His hair was slicked back, with a few loose strands of hair he had to brush up every now and then. His shoes were perfectly polished too, clanking ever so softly as he took a step. 

Perhaps Kento Nanami was one of the reasons why you still chose to attend your job so early in the morning.

"Good morning." His voice was authoritative yet still soft and gentle. You even noticed the soft giggles some female employees let out upon hearing his voice. You chuckled as you shook your head. You couldn't really blame them for being giddy over him. Almost everyone is.

A chorus of hello's and good morning's were heard. Nanamin went through some announcements and important matters to discuss, mainly about increasing customer satisfaction rate and the like. He also talked about the short business trip he went to over the weekend and disclosed some information about future plans for a major project. At the same time, the department heads reported what plans they'll be doing for the rest of the day. Haibara happily took notes on his iPad, trying his hardest not to miss any important information. 

"Very well," Nanami spoke, the attention once again turning to him. He acknowledged the effort each department had and thanked them for their hard work. This definitely boosted the morale of the employee seeing the smile and grins on their faces. 

Nanami leaned a bit on the table, his arms crossed over his chests. He made eye contact with you one more time before turning his attention to the man beside him. "Ijichi, if you will. Thank you."

Ijichi nodded and walked forward, a kind smile evident on his face. A few coworkers giggled a bit, finding the man's actions kind of adorable. 

"Good morning," he greeted. "As you may all know, fall internships have already begun. Here we have three students from The University of Tokyo who will be seeking our guidance for the rest of the year."

He then gestured to the interns to start introducing themselves. The first one to do so was the lady wearing a pastel pink suit. She had a genuine smile on her face rather than the frown she had earlier in the morning. You thought that she was pretty—very fashionable too.

"Good morning! I'm Kugisaki Nobara and I'm 21 years old. Please take good care of me! I humbly seek your guidance!"

"Um." The next up was the boy with pink hair. He was quite charming to say the least; very bubbly and smiley much like the lady. "I'm Yuji Itadori. 20 years old, and I look forward to working with you all! Please go easy on me!"

Finally, the boy with dark hair spoke. He was quite shy and kind of stoic at first glance. "I'm Megumi Fushiguro. I'm 20 years old and I'm looking forward to working with you all too. Please guide us well… and I would like to apologize in advance for all the troubles these two might cause."

The two intern's mouth went agape and a few other employees let out a chuckle. The employees then politely clapped for the three. Even Nanami did too and you couldn't help to notice the small smile forming on his lips—as if he was already growing fond of the interns. This made you smile too. You had always liked having interns around. Just last fall, other students interned in this company as well and you could still vividly remember how rowdy and lively the lot were. Two of them were from UTokyo, while the others were from KyotoU.

 After the morning assembly meeting, the employees went back to their desks. You took a quick detour to the pantry to brew yourself some coffee before going back to her table. As you sat down, you folded the newspapers and kept them in your drawer as you were already finished reading them. Then, you went back to work.

The office was fairly quiet during working hours. Everyone was busy typing away on their keyboards to even spare the other employees a glance. It reminded you of libraries from school.

You reached out for your drink and frowned when you noticed that it was already empty. It was finished already? You didn’t even notice that the time was passing by so quickly. You contemplated on whether you should get up and brew some more, but you were already getting comfortable in your chair and didn't want to move an inch.

As if on cue, Gojo tapped your desk, making you turn to his direction. He had a cup of warm drink in his hands and grinned at her. You raised her eyebrow at him, confused with his sudden appearance. Usually he'll be on the third floor, supervising his department, or on the sixth floor, hanging out with other directors.

"A delivery for you, my lady." He put the warm drink down on her table and before you could even ask him why he gave it to you, he was already walking towards the elevator.

Frowning, you looked at the cup. Written on it was your favorite drink and a name that made your cheeks flush red. You covered half of your face, glaring at Gojo who was grinning as he waited for the elevator door to close. Grabbing your post-it from your desk, you covered the name written on your cup. Clicking your tongue, you went back to work and tried to bury the embarrassing feeling brewing inside you.

 When lunch time came, you decided to go to a nearby restaurant with a few other employees. You and your coworkers settled on a table near the door by the big windows. As you sat down, your attention was diverted towards the door, where the CEO and his secretary stood. They seemed to be looking for someone as their eyes trailed around the restaurant.

"Nanamin!" Gojo called, not even addressing the man properly. The white-haired man waved his arms around, catching a few people's attention. Getou, Shoko, and Utahime, who were with him, just shook their heads as they ate their food, as if pretending that they didn’t know him.

Nanami was about to approach them until he locked eyes with you once again. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you noticed him approaching your table, Haibara following behind him. Your coworkers didn't seem to notice the CEO until he cleared his throat.

"Ah! Mr. Nanami!" The man before you stuttered. Nanami just offered him a kind smile before gesturing him to sit down. 

"Is it alright if I ate with you today?" He asked and the others nodded. Well, they didn't really have that much of a choice—who would turn down someone like Nanami? 

It was as if the universe was in your favor. Nanami pulled the seat beside you and sat on it, your knees subtly brushing against each other as he fixed his posture. However, he didn't seem to mind as he conversed with your coworkers. Haibara, who sat at the head of the table, sneakily glanced between you and Nanami, biting his lips as he tried to hide his smile. 

The others then decided to begin ordering their own meals. However, you still don't know what to get. Maybe Nanami sitting beside you was a little bit distracting, and maybe he kind of knew it based on the small smiles he lets slip past his mouth every now and then.

"Ms. L/N?"

"Y-yes?" You turned to Nanami, heat rising to your cheeks. 

You stared into his brown eyes. It reminded you of autumn for some reason. It was kind of fitting for someone like him, you concluded; a bit cold, but still makes you feel comfort and warmth. Maybe one of the reasons why Nanami reminded you of autumn so much is because naturally, the autumn season has a kind of romantic aspect to it. Perhaps it was the scenarios you think of with him before heading to bed, or maybe because you were actually falling deeply for him, but you couldn't help but to think that maybe, Nanami has a romantic side to him too. 

You didn't realize that you were staring at him for far too long until you heard his soft chuckle. Looking away, you tried to compose yourself. However, the butterflies in your stomach seem to flutter more and more as they hear the wonderful song that is Nanami's voice. 

"Are you good to order? I can line up to the counter for you," he offered. 

It was embarrassing honestly, making a total fool of yourself in front of such a respectable man like him. "Um… no, it's fine, Mr. Nanami."

"Is [favorite food] and [favorite drink] alright?" He asked, standing up and grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. 

You could only nod as he made his way towards the counter, catching up to Haibara and a few other employees. You were the only one left on the table, which gave you a responsibility to secure it. Not that you mind. 

"So!" You nearly jumped when you heard Gojo Satoru beside you. How he managed to sneak up on you from the other side of the restaurant was something you don't know. He shamelessly sat himself on the chair beside you, which was previously occupied by Nanami. "You and Nanami, huh?"

"What?" You stuttered, completely baffled by his statement. The man just leaned back on his chair, causally tipping back a bit. "Pardon me but what are you talking about, Mr. Gojo?"

"Gojo is fine." The man scrunched his nose. "You're making me sound like an old man. I hate it."

You purse your lips, considering his statement. It seems like he didn't really mind dropping the honorifics that much. He leaned back further on his chair, propping his sunglasses on top of his head. 

"You know," he began, looking over at Nanami's direction. "Nanami usually never dines with employees. I know you saw me call him over earlier, but he didn't hesitate one bit on walking towards your direction when you made eye contact." He then clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow at you. "Which makes me conclude that what I wrote on your cup earlier was true. Am I right?"

You honestly didn't know what to say. He had a teasing grin on his face, much wider than the one he had earlier in the morning. He crossed his arms against his chest, silently urging you to spill it out already.

"I believe that seat was taken." Nanami came back with a tray with both your orders in his hands. The others were still by the counter, waiting for their turn.

Gojo whistled before standing up. "My apologies," he uttered, patting Nanami at the shoulder. "Pardon me for intruding on your little date."

You were expecting Nanami to deny his claim, but the blond didn't say anything. Instead, he calmly placed your order in front of you before sitting down. It was evident that he was ignoring Gojo, which caused the white-haired man to chuckle and shake his head. Gojo then gave you a wink before heading back to his table.

"Was he bothering you?" Nanami asked and you shook your head. 

"No… not really." Nanami gave you a look, as if he wasn't buying it. "I'm fine really, Mr. Nanami. Thanks for your concern."

You gave him a smile and Nanami subtly returned one back. He was about to say something else when the other employees arrived, preventing him from doing so. Nanami cleared his throat and began eating, occasionally looking at you from time-to-time.

"Finally! I’m going home!" You yawned, stretching a bit on your chair. A few employees have already gone home as they finished their job a bit early. Breezily, you gathered all your valuables and placed them in your bag. Then, you decluttered your table before grabbing your coat and putting it on.

It was a 10 minute walk from the company to the nearest train station. The train was definitely cramped since it was getting kind of late. Students were seated on the chair, other employees were busy on their phones or reading a newspaper, and others were dozing off. 

You sighed, wanting to get home as early as you could so you could jump into a nice warm bath and maybe even make yourself a nice dinner and watch a good show. It was a bit chilly at night too, so you'll sure be snuggling up to your bed, with multiple blankets laid on top of you.

Even though all of these things sound amazing, there is something else that you're looking forward to. You covered your mouth as you tried to hide a smile—you didn't want to get weird looks from other people, thinking you're out of your mind or something. 

You unlocked the door of your apartment and made your way inside. You left your bag and shoes by the door as you took your coat off and hung it on the coat rack. You wore your indoor slippers before walking to the bathroom to take your makeup off. 

As you did so, you grabbed your phone and played some music. You then turned the bath faucet on and waited for it to be the right temperature before stripping off and lowered yourself in the tub. You then made sure to tie your hair up, preventing it from getting wet. 

The warm water soothed your sore muscles. You instantly felt at ease. This is exactly what you needed—a nice relaxing night after a long hard day at work. Humming to yourself, you sank further into the tub, letting the water reach up to your shoulders. You giggled as you played with the bubbles, making random shapes and drawing silly little soap faces on your legs.

Deep in your own moment, you didn't hear the opening of the main door nor the shoes being placed inside the shoe cabinet right beside yours. You didn't hear the leather bag being placed on top of the kitchen table nor the knock on the bathroom door. However, you did hear the door knob turning and the footsteps of the man walking towards you.

"Good evening, darling." Your husband, Kento Nanami, greeted you. He seated on the edge of the tub, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes. He looked tired, but still handsome. He tucked a hair behind your ear and you instantly leaned into his touch. He chuckled, holding your cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin. 

"Welcome home, Kento." You smiled, making his heart swoon. Despite being with him for the most of the day, you missed him. 

Nanami placed a kiss on the crown of your head, making you sigh happily and giggle. "Would it be alright if I joined you?"

You nodded. Nanami had always been a man of consent. He always asks before approaching you. He had also always put you first before himself. He had always pampered you, cared for you, and made sure that you'll feel the love that you deserve. He was a very sweet guy, really—charming,  dreamy . Perhaps you were one lucky girl to have someone like him in your life.

"I noticed you wore our wedding ring to work today," he said as he took his shirt off. He then began unbuckling his belt, making you look away. You had already seen his body multiple times, but it still makes your cheeks heat up. Nanami chuckled as he saw your reaction. You were adorable.

He placed a hand on your back as he guided you to move forward, making some room for him. He leaned back as you settled in between his legs, letting you rest your back on his chest. He draped his hands around you, softly caging you in his arms as he leaned his cheek on the top of your head. 

"Well I liked the look of it on my fingers," you answered. "I noticed you wore it too… the other day."

Nanami hummed, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. It's not like you weren't proud of being married. Rather than that, it was merely just because Nanami wanted to see how long it would take for his employees to notice that he was, in fact, already someone else’s spouse. He had been subtly hinting it to others too—small bouquet of flowers on your table during special occasions (birthdays and anniversaries), simple random gifts at any time of the day, occasionally matching outfits with each other, and random lovesick post-it notes placed on your desktop monitor. 

You couldn't deny it but you were definitely hopeful to see the priceless reactions of the employees once they did find out. This little game than Nanami created made the office hours more exciting—for the two of you anyway.

"I think Gojo already knows," you said, intertwining your hands together. "He gave me coffee earlier with the writing: 'nanamin's wife'"

"Perhaps it accidentally slipped from my mouth when we were on a business trip over the weekend." Nanami turned you around so you were facing him, letting you rest on his chest. He let his hand rest on your lower back. "Getou knows too. I bet Gojo told him. Were they bothering you too much? I saw Gojo pestering you earlier during lunch and you looked kind of uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable, just surprised," you answered. "I just didn't know how to act. We never talked about how to react when they found out."

Nanami chuckled. He held your chin and placed a soft tender kiss on your lips. The action made you shiver, making him smile through the kiss. Even just for a short while, you felt breathless.

"Just let things happen," Nanami murmured as he rested his head on the crook of your neck. He placed kisses on your neck and shoulder too, making you giggle due to the tickling sensation. 

"You're being awfully clingy today, Kento." You brushed some of his hair away from his face, looking at his perfectly chiseled features. "You kept glancing at me at work and smiling at me, then you ate lunch with me, and now you're being so affectionate… not that I mind it though."

"I missed you, darling. That’s all." He placed another kiss on the corner of your lips. "I was in Osaka over the weekend, naturally, I would want to be around my sweet girl."

You laughed and nodded, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks once again. Nanami wasn't usually a touchy and a physically affectionate person, especially outside the house. He wasn’t a fan of public displays of affection, but he does make up for it whenever you two are alone.

Something you also noticed about him even from the first time you started dating, was that he was very subtle in the way he loved. He wasn't extravagant nor boastful with gifts. He was sure to keep it simple. Special occasions were an exception though.

You didn't mind it that much. You weren't a fan of lavish types of love and gift giving anyway—it's kind of overwhelming. The love that Nanami gives you was enough—not too less, not too much, it was the perfect balance in between. 

Both of you stayed in the tub for a while, just enjoying the moment as you two held each other. It was peaceful, with occasional innocent words of affection exchanged between the two of you. You were glad that office hours were over, enabling you to enjoy your time alone with your husband.

After a few moments, Nanami ushered you to stand as he rinsed the bubbles on your body with the shower head. You giggled as the water accidentally sprayed on his face, causing him to squint and lightly shake his head—like a dog. You grabbed a towel from the rack and gently patted his face. Nanami even sneaked a small kiss on your wrist, causing you to squeal and bashfully smack him on his chest.

"All these years we spent together and you're still shy whenever I shower you with affection." Nanami tugged you closer to him as he draped a robe over your body. You both wore matching classic white ones, small initials of your name imprinted in his.

"I don't know why I just can't get used to the feeling!" You said, huffing. 

"That's good. I like seeing your reactions." Nanami smiled, brushing your hair with his hands. There were some tangles in it, but he didn't mind. He liked brushing them away with his fingers nonetheless.

Nanami just stared at you, his heart thumping happily in his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He wondered what his life would be like if you weren't around. Shaking his head, he didn't want to think of it. You were there, in front of him, in his arms. It was enough.You were enough. Nanami couldn't bear living his life without having you around anyway. Perhaps you might have just bewitched his heart with your charms. But he was so in love with you that he didn't mind.

"You're as pretty as a flower, my sweet." He tugged you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around your frame and resting his head on top of yours. He looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your kind smile, your flushed cheeks—To Nanami, you were perfect. 

"Kento?" He hummed, still looking at your face through the reflection. "Would you watch [favorite movie] with me?"

He chuckled, patting your head. How could he say no to you? "Of course, darling. Office hours are already over, right?"

[supersizemeplz]

Huh? Nuh Uh

Southern Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic short. Random but I was heavily inspired by this tik tok. Enjoy!

Traffic was light, only a few cars on the otherwise dead street from what you could see. The sun had began to set and the sky held that beautiful pastel canvas of color. The soft light seemed to kiss your boyfriend's brown skin, making him glow. He was fine as hell, you couldn't lie. Erik glanced over at you, smirking when he'd caught you admiring him as he drove. His golds glinted and his dimples deepened to make your heart flutter.

"You so green. Whatchu grinning at over there?" His southern accent made you smile bigger. Not that you thought that was possible. He rested a hand on your thigh giving a light squeeze, mumbling a ‘wit yo fine ass’. You shivered with a familiar tingle at the loving contact and you were sure that it wasn’t from the A/C that was going full force.

You felt butterflies, deciding to turn away from him to hide your smile. It wouldn't dim even though you were trying. "Nothing. Just... taking in the scenery."

He replied with an amused 'Mhmm', moving his hand as he pulled up to a gas station. It was a familiar spot whenever you two decided to chill. They had some of the best slushies. The glossed paint of his car reflected in the full length window of the store as his LED headlights stared back at your both. The soft purr of the engine hushed as he placed the gear into park, turning down the radio and looking over to you. "You want something outta here, baby girl?"

You nodded, telling him the snacks you'd wanted. Your nails played in his beard as his eyes took in your glossed lips as you spoke. Taking a mental note of each word the soft seducers spoke as he opened the car door slightly. "Bet.." He leaned back over and pecked your lips twice before he grinned. The last one lingering a bit before he pulled away with a lip bite. ".. I'll be right back. Aight?"

"Ok." You spoke, in a light daze as he got out the car. Watching him walk up to the store and enjoying the little dip in his walk. “He’s too fine for his own good.” Shaking your head, you smiled to yourself.

Once he'd disappeared into the well lit establishment, you looked around his car. This had been your first time in it since you’d both always met up or he came to your place. It was some nice ass sports car, custom made from what he'd once told you. Yeah you’d seen it but this is the first time you’d gotten to sit in it. This was one of the three cars he owned. The man loved his cars.

Your hand smoothed over the deep green leather of the seat before you looked at the dash. The soft scent of him filled the car and you took in a deep breath. “Damn..” Running your fingers over the metallic Stevens emblem, you made a face of approval. And he called you boujie. Your observation of the car's details continued as you seen nothing occupied the arm rest, though his phone rested in the cup holder.

It lit up with an email notification, showing you as his screensaver in the background. Some photo you'd taken randomly that he'd said he really liked. Looking to the steering wheel, you noticed that his last name was also stitched into the leather beneath the car company’s emblem. It oddly matched your nails and you smiled at the sudden idea you hatched. "Dare I?"

Doing a glance to the store, you seen him at the slush machine. Go for it. Sliding over to the drivers seat, you relaxed into the seat. Your hands rubbed over the leather of the steering wheel, feeling the stitches of his name. Taking out your phone, you snapped a few photos of your hand against the wheel.

Placing your phone back on the passenger seat, you did a relaxed sigh. Sinking back into the seat. You might have or might have not playfully let the seat smoothly recline and then come back to its original position at the touch of a button. Just to see how it felt. "Smoothhh." You gave an impressed hum, resting your hands on the steering wheel again.

Looking around to see if anybody was looking at you, you gently turned the wheel back and forth like a playful child. You chuckled at your childlike behavior, resting back against the seat again. “Maybe I am a little green.” Peeking back over your shoulder, you looked to the backseat. Which was surprisingly spacious, just big enough for some adult activ- "Shit!"

You gave a squeal of surprise as you seen Erik coming out of the door. Hopping from his seat, you slipped over the arm rest to take your rightful seat in the passenger sides. Smoothing your hair down, you fixed your clothes and turned the radio up back to the soft hum it once had. Just as Erik made it to the car, you focused your attention on your phone.

He slipped into the car with ease, one hand holding your large slush and the other with a bag full of snacks. You took the bag from him to lighten his load and sat your phone aside. "Thanks, babyy." Grinning, you accepted the slush he handed you. After he'd taken a sip or two.

"No problem, princess." He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. His eyebrows furrowed as you rumbled through the bag. "I wasn't sitting up this straight was I? You been over here?" Dammit, caught.

You ignored the question before he called to you with an amused 'Babe'. Looking to him, you could almost see the knowing smirk on his lips. "Huh? Nuh uh..I’ve been on my phone." Taking a sip of your slush, you heard him chuckle at your obvious lie. He'd seen you from the store window minutes before and found himself chuckling from the chip aisle.

________________

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