Tumgik
#The weird obscure kind of shit you gotta actually be 'old' to know about in most cases it (at least it always feels like)
gizkasparadise · 9 months
Text
final leg of a journey to love thoughts!! (eps 35-40). this got so gd long so under a cut it goes. spoilers, of course:
PLOT STUFF/PACING
pacing for the plot definitely got shredded in the last chunk, which is a damn shame because otherwise i've been finding the pacing pretty much perfect. eps 35-37 in particular felt like they could have been like a 10 episode arc. ep 38, which mostly dealt with wu palace politics, should have been cut or streamlined imo and more time given to the characters we've actually been riding along with the whole story. by the time we get back to the pregnant empress, prince danyang, the first prince whose name i dont even remember, and the prime minister, i do not care about any of them and i think this subplot was simply just trying to fit too much shit into one bag
that said, this show still let the emotional moments hit and breathe and linger. i love the grief for the fallen liudao comrades as we go, as well as the less heavy but still emotionally important moments like yang ying and tongguan bonding over their upbringing. and we got a wedding /;3;/!!! for this show, the relationships and characters matter more than the storyline so im not mad about anything at all
side note: it's so gd millennial to have a story about a bunch of 30 something year olds who want to fake their deaths and retire into obscurity but instead they go and die for a boss they hate
CHARACTER STUFF
this show consistently brought a lot of depth to its side characters (and side side characters!!). i said it in an earlier post, but it bears repeating that even someone like deng hui i didnt expect anything from, but he got such good development and writing that he became a stealth fave. his dying words essentially being "dude, quit fucking around" ? iconic.
i didnt like tongguan as much as everyone else, so im pretty meh about everything regarding him. the attempt to force-wed ruyi was tonally really weird and didnt make sense (i assume there was some cuts made surrounding it). but LOL at him reusing all the outfits and decor immediately for his wedding to yang ying. baby duke, you tacky motherfucker. i ultimately think yang ying deserves better than him, but the good thing is that she knows this, so she'll be able to hold her own and then some entering into this partnership
shisan really was the heart in a lot of ways--the mom to yuanzhou's dad for the liudao. i was not expecting him to break my heart the way he did, but the fact that he held both qian zhao and sun lang as they died and then tried his best to remove yuan lu from harm and saved chu yue and was just very much a nurturer all the way through got me. his character couldve been cheap comic relief but the writing + performance really elevated him into one of the (imo) most memorable wuxia characters. his line wondering who would get to behead his beautiful skull!!! and how his mantra was always that he was going to drink the best wine, see the most beautiful women, and make the best of friends and he dies having lost the ability to see and having just had wine in memory of qian zhao, yuan lu, and sun lang. like. shut up!!
ruyi and yuanzhou were both so great and they're gonna be the drama OTP to beat forever. i loved the gender reversals, that they both were so respectful of each other, and that they also felt very mature in how they handled things and communicated. they were really interesting characters both together and apart and that's always a win-win. they had a schroedinger's ending where it's not super clear if they're alive or dead (i interpreted it as the latter), but what's kind of beautiful is that either option is satisfying to me. if they both died, they're reunited and with their comrades and the story is truly about the journey and the meaningful short connections we have. if they both survived, it's a bookend with the beginning where they each faked their deaths to escape. A+
COSTUMING
i gotta just separately mention the costuming for this show because it was 15/10. the textures, shisan's accessories, the way red became integrated with yuanzhou's wardrobe and blue with ruyi's. the details on the liudao name amulets!! SO GOOD. i love when characters' clothes tell a story on their own
overall i just really loved this drama it is probably my favorite wuxia ive seen so far! it's gonna be in my brain for awhile lol feel free to send fic prompts if you've made it this far :'D
67 notes · View notes
momowho34 · 3 years
Text
okay but why do artists title things Like That. 
why is it that every time an old artist titled their paintings it would be something like “the one with the orange cup on the chair in the windowsill with the sunlight filtering in and a little bit of red in there somewhere.” I mean points for clarity and specificity. its so weird like i could be sitting here thinking “hm what’s that one painting of the girl in the pearl earring” and then look it up and its just. it’s literally titled “the girl and the pearl earring” what. no special title? no artistic wordplay? it’s like they finished the painting and were like “all of my creativity has been drained :/” and wrote the description because why not? my favorites are the one with obscenely long and specific titles, even for this trend, like “king john henry mcdowill hubenstuber mijorgindididan the 74th out on a sunny day with his hunting dogs.” Some of them are very simple and its like what! where is your creativity! where is your symbolic language! what the fuck
meanwhile on the other side of the spectrum you’ve got instrumental musicians with zero description or discernment of what the fuck is going on and they just expect you to Get It. everything is titled “concerto 5th string instrument 7th fret” and that’s just. that’s the title of the song???? there are no descriptives??? I know it makes sense to instrumental people that understand that stuff but you can listen to “5th concertio cello A” and its the most boring thing with very little substance but then look at “6th concerto cello A” and its the most banger song you’ve ever listened to in your fucking life. where is the distinction? where is the flavor?? like “oh my favorite beethoven piece was 17th oingo boingo instrument name random selection of letters” you have told me nothing. net zero information. if you hum it for me I will have a better idea of your general taste in music then that jumble of words you just said. all i know is that all of tchaikovsky’s music absolutely boinks but with beethoven its like. girl is this going to be an epic fast paced angry song grrrr or an oh i am the wilting petals of a dying flower song? because the title is literally the same! somebody tell me what the 
and don’t even get me started on literature freaks (of which i am one) that are the most pretentious thing ever. you look at a book and it’s titled “the great battle of 1220″ but its actually about office jobs or whatever and one of the characters references a battle of some kind eventually and that’s it that’s the only connection. oh haha yeah i see the funny silly little connection there author, but you also just made me read 600 pages to get there. edgar allan poe titled things in a pretty boring way but at least he left you with some idea of what the fuck was going on. no. fuck you. this is illegal. i miss being six and opening up a picture book titled “uncle bert and his lovely farm” like yeah does it sound boring? sure. does it give me a general idea of what the fuck is going on? yes. i know these complaints are dumb and i love giving my works obscure titles and i know that’s what the descriptions at the back of the book are for but ugghhh. 
i love art and i love instrumental music (even if i know jack shit about it) and i certainly love literature, but guys we’ve gotta cooardinate more there is a balance to things i promise. literature is like all symbolic and pretentious its all “teehee my title is obscure and symbolic oh im so smart” and art is like “you get whats on the fucking tin leave me alone” and instrumental music is like “i need to have everyhting organized specifically by strings or whatever and if there is a single characteristic in this title im going to cry.”
56 notes · View notes
sunjaesol · 3 years
Text
“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”
jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
“Kie.”
“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”
“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”
“Why?”
Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”
The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.
“C’mon, Kie.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”
JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”
She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.
Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.
So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.
But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)
While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.
“You got no food, man.”
She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”
“You haven’t gone back?”
“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.
Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.
“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”
“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”
She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”
He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.
“Why?”
She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”
“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”
Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”
His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”
“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”
“I don’t dig.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”
She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”
“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”
Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.
She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.
“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”
Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.
Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.
So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.
“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.
He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”
“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”
“I'm tough,” he tried.
“Like Play-Doh.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”
Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.
John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.
(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”
“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)
JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.
Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.
“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”
JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”
Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”
He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”
His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.
Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.
A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.
All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.
But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.
Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.
“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.
“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.
Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”
“Dude, why not write that then?”
“Because they want aberration.”
He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”
“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.
“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”
“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.
Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”
“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”
Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”
“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”
“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”
“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”
Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'
“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.
JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”
A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”
“I don't.”
“You literally said it five seconds ago.”
“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”
Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.
And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.
For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.
“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”
“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”
“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”
“Yeah?”
“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”
“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.
“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”
“Fucks sake, Kie—”
“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”
“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.
Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.
Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”
“What the hell, JJ!”
“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”
“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”
“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.
Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”
Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"
"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”
“What?!”
“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”
JJ laughed. “Sus?”
“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”
“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”
“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”
“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.
With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.
She frowned. “What're you doing?”
“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.
In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.
Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.
“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”
He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”
“What?”
“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”
“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.
JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!
He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”
Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”
It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.
At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.
JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.
The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.
“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.
She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”
Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.
He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”
“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.
JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.
On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.
JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.
“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”
A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”
“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.
How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.
Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”
“I dunno, man…”
“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”
Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.
If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.
“What a player,” he joked.
“Tell me about it.”
They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.
Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.
“Let's sit there.”
Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.
He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.
“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”
He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”
“Bye.”
“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”
Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”
“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”
The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.
He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”
“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”
“Cheers, baby.”
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
86 notes · View notes
the-fiction-witch · 3 years
Text
What The -
REAL LIFE SCANDAL  COUPLE TBS X READER RATING: FUNNY
Tumblr media
"So! let's do something stupid" y/n smiled sitting at her table with a laptop "Hello everyone welcome to me being all alone and bored, Thomas is not home so I'm just gonna sit and do something very stupid but I got the idea in my head so now I have to see it thought" she explained "Today, while doing a daily, bored, attention disorder, avoiding my work scroll of amazon I spotted something, a beth Harmon funky pop, very cool, very nice, good recommendations amazon, and then it occurred to me, Thomas doesn't have a funky pop and then it occurred to me," she explained "I wonder how much stuff exists out there with my husbands face on. then I found out weirdly a lot. so... let's do a room makeover" "Let's do this crazy thing. Let's begin let's start on ebay because I feel like that's gonna be the place with the lest and we'll end on like red bubble because I know there is so much shit on red bubble I know I unironicly bought a Benny watts magnet for our fridge because it was the art of Benny and beth as bunnies and I just..  I had to buy it" "Okay to ebay. Let's try Benny watts first. Oohh custom Benny watts trading card. I mean I want that ooohh 11.45 plus 12.99 shipping. I mean I love Thomas' likely more then anyone I mean I love him enough to marry him and give him twin daughters but. I do not love him that much. Let's try just his name on ebay let's see what comes up. Okay... Alot of game of thrones cards like autograph cards he did so many of those he always complains about doing like the collectable card signatures because he says a Poster or photo you have space and given his signature I understand what he means it's a large signature so he kinda has to sizeit down for cards and he ends up with like a bad wrist for it... What! Life sized cut out standee. I mean I don't want two Thomas'. I feel like that's a weird thing but for the sake of the room make over I mean. I gotta do it. There is two one in a suit. Ohh that's now his best suit look he has better suits then that. Do him in the korea death cure suit that thing is amazing or what they are calling brown jacket. Awwww I miss that jacket. He got rid of that recently and I was so sad because I actually really like that Jacket I have to get that one then ohh two sizes life sized. Well got to have life sized and then mini, how big is mini? 60cm awww you could like sit him on your desk. Does anyone actually have these life sized or mini I wanna see them, please send me pictures. I shall get a life sized because I must, ha! One of the pictures says simple and easy to erect. Well I mean. They clearly have met Thomas. Lot of dvds. Aww nanny mcphee worth two pounds sixty. I mean I love that movie but I understand DVDs are like basically vhs tapes now. I'm sorry that may have been too old for you young people. Uhh DVDs are basically ipod nanos. More posters the posters o might get to put in picture frames because of jokes I'm taking this one joke so far. Ohh my god! Yes! The cut out people do one of him and Dylan. I mean. I have to. He may actually wanna keep a life sized cut out of him an dylan. I have to don't I? It has to be done. I gotta get that one. A shirt that says eat. Sleep. And obsess over Thomas brodie sangster. I mean... If I was doing a clothing then yes but we're doing a room make over. Maybe next week. Maze runner keyring! What? So you can get newt, minho, Thomas or all three of them on a keyring. I'm buying that. I also kinds want that. Put Thomas on my keys. Take him places. Okay let's go on ... I think wish next. Yes! Thomas pillow. Okay that's a throw pillow luckily I have many of those so we can do many throw pillow covers. Is that lampwick? Oh my God. Wish ten points for obscure. Maybe it's because wish doesn't wanna get sued for using the pictures so instead of the pics they all use they just dug feel to find a lampwick that knowone remembers for 7.97 gotta be done we getting a lampwick pillow ohh and a tdc newt pillow I assume from the same company as the pillow they have photoshoped the picture on is the same, gonna get that too ohh there's alot of throw pillows I know I said I had alot of pillows I don't have this many. I'm gonna pick three good pics like not blury or stolen art and then I'm sure we'll get another three pillows somewhere else if not I'll come back. Rafe sadler phone case! I mean. Again points of obscure it's not just all newt which I adore. What the! That is a Thomas blanket. I mean. Oh my God. It's not just like one big stolen imagine that's a collage. But it's like fifty pound so moving on. Newt on a handbag. Newt on a backpack. I'm gonna have to do a clothes episode of this. What the! Newt. On a car sunshade! Sold. I'll actually use that for my car in sold 17 pounds sign me up. There's alot of blankets actually. I'm gonna weight thought of I'm gonna get a blanket I know they do them on rwdbubble and atleast then I give fifty pound to creator and not to wish so moving on. Newt bucket hat. I mean not home where but later. I'll be back. Ohh a mug that says mentally dating Thomas brodie sangster. Uhh I'm married to him so can I like cross it out and write married. No again I'll wait gonna see what other mugs there are. Newt socks. It's all the same newt picture over and over but those are amazing. Thomas on... What is that. Ohh a pill box. Okay Thomas on a pill box. Next Amazon. Lot of the same stuff pillows posters, phone cases. Oohh Thomas onna glasses case. Getting that. Thomas onna pencil case. Ah yes take Thomas to school with you. Again getting that. What! Thomas on a towel. A towel. In various towel sizes. Okay I'm getting those. Oohh wall tapestry might get one of those gonna come back to it, Thomas on a drawstring backpack I mean. But how the picture is everytime you use it the face will smoosh. Now to the place I know will have lots because they have so many options for what they print onto. Let's go to red bubble. So many stickers I'll get stickers and just put them on everything in the room for funzies oh my God! That's a duvet. Not a blanket that is a duvet. Gotta get us a duvet and a blanket both with different college images. Queens gambit tote bag. I mean. I want that. It's just like the vegas table set that's cool I might buy that.  Ohhhhhh the bit in queens gambit with Benny in the kimono they have it. And they have it on sixty one things as a shirt. As a sticker m a tote bag. A laptop case. A metal sign. In a block of acrylic. A set of four costers. A pin. A mug. A water bottle, travel mug, face mask, note book, and many many more. This is why I wanted to be here last. There is so much stuff in so many designs ohh hers another Thomas. He's available on over 80 items. Over 80! Let's see what else we can get then tapestry! I knew we'd get about tapestry, bath mat! I'm doing the bedroom but I'm gonna get a bath mat and just use it as a rug, comforter, so I can get a duvet, a blanket and a comforter I'm getting all three, yes, shower curtains okay I'm gonna use these as actually curtians for this. On a clock. On a clock. We getting the clock, apron! Benny watts on a aporn. I love it. Yes! Jigsaw puzzle! I would actually do a jigsaw of thomas that would be fun. Ohh this one has 91 options. Ah yes get Thomas on your a line dress. Get Thomas on your mini skirt. Get Thomas on your canvas art get Thomas onna baby onesie. I'm getting two of those with different pictures put the girls in them, get thomas on a duffle bag get a thomas on everything."
"I think I have found enough to make a beautiful bedroom make over to legs spend some money and I'll be back when it has all arrived to my doorstep"
"Hello. Here I am. Thomas is shopping so I have a couple of hours to do this." She explained in her bedroom surrounded by boxes "so. Let's time lapse a Bitch"
"Oh my god. This looks like the most fangirl bedroom of all time. Ohh just got my tea in my Thomas mugs on Thomas coster, beside my thomas duvet, comforter and blanket with my lovely Thomas throw pillows. Maybe today I shall do a bit of my thomas puzzle. Ohh by look at the time on my thomas clock really should let in some light by pulling back my thomas curtains. Step into my thomas rug, wave to my thomas standee. That's the worse one for me. Because it's life sized and it actually is this is his height I keep catching it in my eye line and it makes me jump. Thomas art on the walls, Thomas tapestry by the bed, stickers on literally anything I couldn't buy I just stuck stickers all over, I mean.... I'm not proud of what I've done. But I'm impressed.
"Hi Thomas" y/n smiled as he stood in the kitchen clearly just having put the shopping away "Hi" "How was shopping?" "Good. I got ice cream" "Ooohh what flavor?" "Strawberry and cream." "That's good, you want some coffee?' "Yeah that'd be lovely sweetheart" "Here you go" she smiled handing him a mug "What the- what does this say?" "I like my men like I like my tea, hot and british. Then it's you see" "Is this what was in that big box you had come?" "Yeah" "Okay. Very nice dear" he laughs taking it and having a sip of the coffee within "It's not all of it" "All of what?" "What was in the box" "Okay what else was in it?" "I've done some redecorating" "Right?" He asks sounding suspicious "I think your gonna like it" "May I see it?" "Yes, but I'm gonna cover your eyes when you go in" "Okay so surprise home renovation?" "Yep"
She stood in the doorway covering his eyes as he searched hopelessly for information with his hands "ready?' "Yes. I wanna see what in earth you've done" "One. Two. Three." "....... What the- what the fuck! What is this?" He asks unable to stop giggling but also kinda crying "I know when we moved i did alot of the decorating so I wanted the bedroom to feel a bit more you" "A bit more me. Really? What the actual fuck. I didn't know it was possible. Like I didn't know I was on duvets let alone that you could literally decorate a room with me" "You wanna lay on the bed" "No. I don't." "Or the blanket. Or comforter" "Ohh my god. How many pillows!" "Six throw pillows then our usual four that match the duvet. Believe it or not I picked six there was so many more" "Even the fucking coasters! Who is making this?" "Do you like the rug" "Ohh my god I hadn't even seen the rug, or the clock on for fuck sake." "Are you mad?" "I'm not mad I'm gobsmaked this exists. I'm blown away that I even exist as a curtian let alone that you can buy them and you have put them up in our bedroom" "I like the jigsaw I may actually finish that" "That's a jigsaw puzzle? A jigsaw puzzle of benny watts half naked?" "Yep" "I wanna know what the sales figures are for that item" "I do too honestly." "Is this. Is this a pencil case?" "Yes, and that's a glasses case" "Ohh my god." "Is anything in here something you knew existed before this?" "The standee I knew was a thing. I remember allowing that, even if they think I'm a bit shorter. The rest of this. May be hearing from our lawyer."
"So? Do you like it?' y/n asks sat on the bed with her mug Thomas beside her "Uhhhh. I'm surprised. I'm shocked. And frankly just... Just what the fuck it's all I can say. I mean I'm amazed you did this and that I had literally no idea, I knew you where getting parcels alot lately but it never even entered my mind you could be doing something like this." "Is there anything in this room we can keep? After this video" "Maybe one of the mugs. And maybe the jigsaw because I feel like you are gonna have fun with that" "I will" she smiled "ooh I forgot something" "Ohh god" She gets up running else where "All I ask is it's not a vibrator. It's the only thing I can think of that isn't in here. Please I beg that to not be a thing that exists" "Hi daddy!" Y/n smiled off screen and he burst out laughing "No. No.no.no.no" he says opening his arms and taking maggie into his chest "no. What has mummy done to you?" He cries as both girls had little Thomas onzies "So you know. You know there your daughters" "I don't need to know there mine. I need clothes that help me tell them apart when there this little, ohh my poor little baby, what has mummy done to you? My poor child. Let's get you out of this and get you back in your pretty dress with me penguin" "Yeah. Let's take this all down. Even I think this was a bit far for a joke" "A bit yeah. Save it all thought I'm taking it to the lawyer tomorrow" he says getting up to take the girls back to bed.
16 notes · View notes
ms-demeanor · 5 years
Text
You know what’s funny is whenever I make a tech post I get people going “this is blatantly untrue” and I get people going “this is really good information and everyone needs to know it” and the dividing line is how much time you spend with people who are tech literate.
Yep, I would tell my computer savvy friends where they could get keycaps and fix their keyboards; I don’t even have to bother telling my computer savvy friends how to run a fifteen year old laptop because we’re all pretty good at it.
But GODDAMN I just read a response to my “cheap computer season” post that claimed that it was totally reasonable to run a macbook from 2010 and
Look.
That’s not a reasonable thing to tell a student who needs a functional computer to do research and write papers. (have fun trying to find installation discs from when the OS was still named after cats and have fun trying to get a browser to get along with that OS)
You know why most people bring me laptops with missing keys? Because the key got ripped off by their two-year-old and damaged the soldering in the keyboard and I have no idea it’s going to be “oh, yeah, that’s a ten dollar fix” or “sorry, that’s going to be an hour and a half to disassemble and reassemble and we’ll have to order you a new keyboard specific to that model out of new old stock” and the thing is the second one is much, much, much more common in my experience than the first.
Do I think you need to replace a laptop when the bezel is cracked? No. I also don’t carry my laptop powered on in the bag with a flashdrive sticking out of the USB port. Customers do weird things that I don’t understand and when a customer tells me they want me to fix the bezel they think it’s a twenty-dollar snap-on repair because they have no idea how this works and then they get mad at me when I explain “no, you’ve gotta have this specific piece of plastic, these haven’t been made in five years, and you might be better off buying a used model online than trying to track down a new bezel.”
So here’s the thing: Can Macs get viruses?
There are three answers here.
“No, of course not, Macs are made to be virus-proof”
“Macs need antivirus protection because, while it is less common than infections for PCs, there are types of malware that can infect macs and it’s worthwhile to guard against that”
“tEcHnIcAlLy a virus has to be self-replicating and IOS’s file management system [or some other bullshit] prevents that so TECHNICALLY Macs can’t get viruses and what you need is anti-malware software if you need anything because you’re fairly likely to have security through obscurity”
I’m aware of the third position and voicing the second position to people who believe the first position.
YES TECHNICALLY YOU CAN KEEP A COMPUTER RUNNING INDEFINITELY AND YES IT’S TOTALLY POSSIBLE YOUR LAPTOP WILL LAST TEN YEARS.
“Well if you treat it right and run it well it’ll be in great shape for a long time”
YES THAT IS CORRECT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE WHO DON’T WORK ON THEIR OWN CARS DRIVE AROUND WITH THE OIL CHANGE LIGHT ON FOR MONTHS?!?
Tons of people in the world today use computers. They use computers every day, they use computers at home and at school and at work.
Tons of people drive every day. They use cars for fun and for commuting and for their jobs.
That doesn’t mean that all (or even most, or even half) of the people using these things is any good at keeping them running, or even has the barest idea of how to start tracking down a problem.
Someone in the notes of that post described a green line on their screen and thought that was a symptom of hard drive problems. I don’t have the hours in the day to catch this person up to speed on why a display issue on a laptop isn’t indicative of hard drive issues.
Do you know how much people think it’s going to cost to get data off of a broken drive? Not “won’t power up” not “won’t spin” but “I dropped this and part fell off and now it won’t power up or spin and also the platter is chipped”? I’m going to have to send that shit to a clean room and the customer is *staggered* that it might cost more than a hundred dollars to get their data. “Outrageous, what kind of blackmail operation are you trying to run here, just plug it in and get my pictures.”
A year or so ago I was at Jiffy Lube (ew). I’d been shooting the shit with the mechanic when a parent and child rolled in in a panic. And they should have been panicking! They’d thrown a fucking rod because they’d been driving with no oil in the car for god knows how long because neither of them had had the oil changed in the two years they’d owned the vehicle.
*I* can keep a 30-year-old car running. I can put a belt back on an engine in a dark parking lot with a wrench and a headlamp. I can drop a gas tank and replace my fuel filter and thumb my nose at the mechanics who tried to upsell me on “replacing your old, worn-out air filter” the day after I’d popped a new one into my truck.
These folks couldn’t keep a new car running with three alarms telling them what was wrong.
*I* can power up my 2005 macbook running Leopard and use garage band to record a song or do some design work on my copy of Adobe CS3; I can kludge its FF3.5 browser into playing nice with the internet and accept that it’s going to be a slow piece of shit.
The lady who called me confused by the fact that the password to her email was different than the login information for her grocery store rewards account will not be able to function if she gets a pop-up that says she’s using an outdated browser and will think it’s a virus if her bank won’t let her log in on that browser.
And you know what, I’m kind of sick of this attitude.
I would *fucking adore it* if computers were actually easy to repair; I’d love it if you could run new OSs on old hardware (especially on macs because I think apple are kind of shitheads about planned obsolescence).
But you know what, no, most people *CAN’T* reasonably expect to use a ten-year-old computer and have pleasant experience of it. It’s going to run slow. It’s going to shut down when they don’t want it to. The battery is going to swell slightly with the heat and your touchpad is going to go nuts. Your USB ports will stop working. Standard wear and tear that most people don’t know how to protect against and don’t know how to repair is going to make it harder to use AND software requirements will outstrip the hardware capabilities of the computer.
If your old computer sucks it’s not your fault. If you can’t happily use a 10-year-old laptop to do your homework that’s okay, it wasn’t designed for you to use it that way and YOU SHOULDN’T FEEL GUILTY ABOUT IT.
Because that’s kind of what a lot of these “well anybody should realistically be able to run a laptop from 2010″ responses comes down to: if you need new hardware you’re just not doing it right. If you have to replace your computer you didn’t make good choices when you bought it. If your battery dies it’s because you didn’t take care of it.
No. No. No. No.
This shit is A) designed to fail and B) actually really hard to keep running (hey how many blown capacitors do you think someone has to have on their motherboard before you say it’s not their fault for wanting to replace the laptop)
ALSO SOMEONE IN THE RESPONSES OF THAT POST LITERALLY SAID THAT IF YOUR BATTERY DIED AT THREE YEARS IT WAS BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T DOING THE DRAIN CHARGE CYCLE RIGHT AND FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. It’s discharge cycles and heat, motherfucker; they are going to fail at some point and people shouldn’t feel bad if their batteries stop working after a couple years.
UGH.
You shouldn’t have to be a mechanic. You shouldn’t have to be a computer technician. Yeah, your shit will last longer if you know how to take care of it but, fuck. Imagine you were still using internet speeds from 2010. Imagine all your devices still had USB 2.0. Imagine you couldn’t log onto your online bank because your hardware won’t run he software that your bank recognizes because the hardware manufacturer decided it won’t support the older hardware.
What I was trying to get across in that initial post was “computers fail, and they fail pretty frequently; your life will be better and you will save money if you plan on replacing them at a regular interval and have reasonable expectations in terms of cost and failure. So buy a cheap computer now because you’re probably going to need one at some point”
And now I’ve got to Do A Yell about how there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism and it’s unreasonable to expect tired, overworked, broke people to become experts in computer repair in order to do their homework or play the goose game.
FUCK THAT.
IT’S CHEAP COMPUTER SEASON MOTHERFUCKERS. LAPTOP FAILURE RATES INCREASE AT THREE TO FIVE YEARS AND DESKTOP FAILURE RATES INCREASE AT FIVE TO SEVEN YEARS. RIGHT NOW THERE ARE DISCOUNTS ON NEW COMPUTERS AND IT’S CHEAP TO GET AN EXTENDED WARRANTY.
LIVE LONG AND PROSPER AND WORK ON COMPUTERS IF YOU WANNA AND PLAN TO REPLACE REGULARLY IF YOU DON’T WANT TO WORK ON COMPUTERS.
ALSO CHANGE YOUR FUCKING OIL YOU’RE PROBABLY DUE.
9K notes · View notes
isaacthedruid · 3 years
Text
I used to be really into writing at the start of quarantine and I wanted to get back into it, so have a little ✨ ✨ (platonic) Foolish and Eret, eternal duo, drabble✨ ✨  of my interpretation of the first little bit of lore they had together, cleaning up the red vines. 
TW// Swearing and brief mention of intoxication (one sentence)
[AO3]
Tumblr media
Foolish dumped the last of the vines from his inventory into the blue flames, “You know what all this egg cleaning kind of reminds me of, Eret?” 
“What?” 
“It kind of reminds me of me and you back in the day. Like, cleaning up that mess from the Wither cult.” Foolish smiled at the memory. 
“What?” Eret asked softly. 
“What do you mean?” 
Foolish clapped his hands together, watching red powder fall. His pants and palms were coated in fine red dust from the blood vines. It burned slightly as the egg slowly sunk its teeth in, despite being a god, the man still felt pain. It felt sharp and prickly, the Egg’s strength danced across his hands, stinging through the fabric and staining his golden skin with a soft red blush. 
Eret froze, also wiping at the red dust that bled into their blood-red cloak.
“I-” Eret stuttered, “Are you thinking of a different person, or-”
“Nope, you, Eret. The one with the glasses and the one with the netherite armour.” 
The god gave the king a quick look over; glasses, armour, red cloak and--a crown. That was Eret, well it was Eret with a few additions but it was still Eret. 
Foolish was confident in that fact. 
“Uh,” Eret didn’t speak, allowing the god to continue. 
Foolish stammered, “It was- It was a- I mean, I guess time’s a little. It’s was a while ago,” the god fell into a back and forth pace as he finally spoke freely. 
“It was a while ago, I suppose. I’m surprised--” the god looked at the king with a slight pain in his gemstone eyes, “--You don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“I- I’m sorry, I have no idea, I-” the king trailed off. 
“Really, doesn’t ring a bell? Wither cult?” 
“I-I’m pretty sure I’d remember something called a Wither cult.” Eret spoke back.
“Okay, uh, okay. That’s weird. Okay, you don’t remember that. What about uh,” the god paused, trying to pick just a single memory from his hundreds of years of life.
“Okay, that’s weird. Well, there was that time we went on that little adventure like, in the mountains, and we fought off those trolls. And I don’t mean like, big green ones-” 
Eret cut him off, “You have to be talking about something-- someone else, man. I-I’ve been here for months-” 
“Oh yeah! I do agree you’ve been here for months. You’ve been elsewhere, Eret.”
The king’s heart dropped, they froze again. The amount of power in just one sentence, he had to be messing with them. Eret opened their mouth to reply but any words were trapped in their throat. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
The god looked at the king closely, “No, no, it’s Eret. You’re the guy,” as a friendly smile spread across his golden face. 
“Okay,” the king paused, “Have I shown you my eyes before?” 
Foolish came in closer to peer through their sunglasses, the glow from his netherite helmet sent moving highlights across Foolish’s metallic face, he meant well.
“Trust me, I know what your eyes look like, Eret. Feel free though.”
“Okay, just to double-check, you know, y-you’re talking about the right person, right? So of course, sunglasses. I wear them to hide-” 
“I was gonna say. The sunglasses are actually a bit of a new look for you, I feel like.” 
Carefully, Eret removed their sunglasses, the frames slipping down their nose to reveal their pearl-white eyes. That was the Eret he knew. 
That was Eret that fought giant trolls and armies of monsters by his side. That was the Eret he called a friend. That was the Eret he had danced with drunkenly at many parties and galas. That was the Eret he’d make sure that got home safely after a night out. That was the Eret who would smile when he’d make the thunder roar out just for them. That was the Eret he called his. 
“Yeah!” Foolish smiled bigger, his face glowing at the familiar sight in front of him. 
“You’re not scared?” they spoke carefully, the arms of the frames clutched tightly in their thin fingers with a bit of shake.
Philza yelled. Ranboo screamed. Tommy was nearly in tears. 
And Foolish, he smiled. 
“No, that’s the Eret I’m thinking of, actually.” 
Eret carefully placed the glasses back over their eyes, obscuring the pearls with a dark tone.
“Nothing?” 
“Foolish, I know nothing,” the king took a moment to find their words, “I know absolutely nothing. I am so lost. There’s- There’s- I’m sorry.”
“Now I’m lost too!” 
“If there’s something you know that I don’t, I-” 
“You know, maybe this is the Egg, maybe it’s the Egg messing with your head. Maybe-- I don’t know.”
Foolish didn’t want to admit that it hurt but god did it hurt. It pained him to think that Eret, one of his oldest friends, had no memory of their past adventures.
Their time together, wearing ancient clothes and fighting various mobs.
“Y-you just get some sleep.” 
An attempt to make himself feel better, put it up to be the king being tried or that the Egg was affecting them. 
“We can talk about this another time. We’ll catch up, old pal.” the god turned on his heels, playfully hitting Eret on the shoulder.
A soft wack between two friends but it was a lot more forceful than the god intended it to be, “That was a shoulder punch, by the way. It wasn’t me like, smacking you.” 
“It’s all good. Yeah,” the king trailed off again. 
Shit, this was awkward. Foolish needed to get out of here, he needed to get out of here now. 
“Nothing?” the god asked, once more. 
Foolish’s hands were about to shake as an ache grew in the deity’s chest.
“I- Nothing. Maybe there’s a reason why I hit it off with you so quick. I don’t know,” Foolish started to walk away at this point, “I feel like there’s stuff I need to learn about myself as well. Uh-” 
“Yeah, uh. Apparently- Apparently, it’s a lot. Okay, you get some sleep or something.” 
“Okay.” 
“We’ll- We’ll, I-” the god quickly stuttered out, “There’s some other matters I’ve got to attend to, you know? Kingdoms rising and stuff.” 
You’ve gotta get out of here, man. This hurts you just as much as it’s hurting them. 
The pair mumbled their goodbyes, promising a fight against the monstrous egg that attacks their lands and wishes for others to get rest. 
And with that Foolish ran, he didn’t know how long he’d been running for. Down the path, through portal and the Nether, through another portal and into the desert. His legs burned as they pushed his body forwards, faster and faster towards the temple.  
A series of the same four words fell from his lips, over and over again.
“He doesn’t remember me.” 
“He doesn’t remember me.” 
“He doesn’t remember me.” 
Somehow and in someway, Eret had forgotten him. 
Tumblr media
So I haven’t written in a really long time and I’m quite out of practice but what did you think? I kind of what to write about the red banquet next if people enjoyed this :) 
Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. 
47 notes · View notes
pixelwisp-archive · 3 years
Note
i want more orimakki 😩 !!! pls answer these q's i rly wanna know 🥺
Flora I love you so MUCH oh my god thank you for feeding me TT-TT (also I'm ABSOLUTELY SENDING THIS BACK FOR YOU AND OSAMU I WANNA KNOWWWW)
I’m gonna answer these Interview style because it sounds fun to do and because I can😌
This ended up taking me SO long because, per usual, I got way too carried away lmao I'm so sorry
Makki is blue and I'm orange! (Interviewer is red lmao)
1. Who loves flower crowns more?
“Ori, for sure”
“I’m bad at making them though, so I make Hiro make them for me” 
Makki looks at her like😒 and she laughs - he bites back a smile.
2. Who is the one who likes to cuddle?
"Hiro, for sure - I get a little weird about physical affection"
"She hates me"
"That's not true bub, you're just so hot"
"Thanks babe, I think you're pretty cute too"
Ori rolls her eyes and elbows him. "Next question"
3. Who has awful taste in music?
*simultaneously* "Hiro" "Me"
4. Who is the meme lover?
"I run a relatively popular account on instagram"
"I wake up every day to at least 30 new memes that he's spammed my phone with"
5. How did their second date go?
Ori starts laughing as Makki groans.
"He tried to take me to a park for a picnic-"
"Listen it would have been romantic but there was this fucking-"
"raccoon coming to grab our food-"
"and of course Ori is a dumbass ("HEY") and was ready to pet the literal wild animal ("he was so cute :(") so I tried to like shoo it away but-"
"It bit him and we ended up just sharing a cheese stick in the hospital"
"It was a disaster, to say the least"
"It's still one of my favorite dates, though"
"You just like seeing me in pain"
Ori laughs. "Not True!"
6. How many children do they want/have?
"17"
"absolutely not"
"we've talked about having two, maybe three"
"with a couple years in between. Gotta make sure they bully each other. It's important for character growth"
"We'll be sure to bully the oldest so they're not a weirdo like their mom"
Ori nods in agreement.
7. Who hides the weapons?
"I have a knife collection, does that count? I keep them in a display case on the wall"
8. Who is the better dancer?
Makki laughs. "Oh, me for sure"
"YOU?"
"Have you seen your dancing babe?"
"Have you seen YOUR dancing? What the hell is this?" *imitates this god awful windmill move*
"...okay, valid. We're both bad."
9. Do/Did they have a theme wedding?
"We're not married, marriage is for chumps."
Makki sighs. "We're not married *yet*."
"Gross, tryna tie me down stinky?"
"Been trying for years, bub"
Ori blushes, and looks away to hide her smile.
"...maybe"
Makki grins and leans in. "What?"
"I said maybe. I just-"
"I know, baby. Maybe is all I need."
10. What do their parents think of them dating?
"My parents are in love with Ori."
"My parents love him too!"
"Even your dads?"
"Yeah, my dads love you"
"Your step dad doesn't seem to like me much"
Ori furrows her brows. "which one?"
"I'm sorry, did you say 'which one?'"
"Oh, sorry. I have three dads. My mom, my dad, and then their husbands"
"I don't know, your mom's husband doesn't seem like he's warmed up to me"
"It took him years to even warm up to me. He shared his pot roast recipe with you, remember? that was his seal of approval"
Ori giggles while Makki looks at her suspiciously but eventually mumbles "if you say so"
11. Are they a super sappy couple?
"She clowns the shit out of me whenever I try"
Ori laughs. "I'm sorry I just don't know how to act when I'm embarrassed"
"I'm trying to woo you, not embarrass you, you jackass"
"*woo* me?!" Ori cackles
"I don't know why I even try"
(She goes up to him later, and takes his face in her hands, her demeanor more serious than before
"Hey, bub. You know I don't mean *you* embarrass me right? I just get awkward about affection"
He sighs and nuzzles into her palm
"I know you didn't, it's ok. I just love you too much sometimes, and its hard to reel it in"
"I love you too. So so much"
"I am gonna ask you to marry me someday. You know that?"
"I know, and my simp ass is gonna say yes. How gross is that"
Makki rolls his eyes, a smile on his face
"So gross")
12. How did they get together?
"We danced around each other for like 2 years"
"it was painful"
"Iwaizumi finally beat the confidence into me enough to kiss her"
"I don't know that you ever actually asked me out"
"Really? Oh, well then, wanna date?"
"Nah, you're a little weird"
"Damn ok, guess I'll call Mattsun" Ori laughs
13. Who asked the other to get married?
*more gagging noises while Makki sighs*
"It'll be me, clearly"
14. Who stays up too late and makes stupid jokes?
"Hiro. 100%"
"Hey, you stay up late too!"
"I know, but my jokes are always funny"
"rude"
15. Who is the nerd?
"Oh my god it's Ori"
"Hey, I converted you, fellow nerd. plus, you have a knife collection - if that's not nerd shit idk what is"
"touché"
16. Who knows the most obscure facts?
"Hiro"
"Did you know that penguins have knees?"
"I do now"
17. Who makes the other a flower crown?
"Hiro! His fingers are better suited for the weaving, I have weirdly small hands"
"Hey, I like your hands"
"Awh, babe<3"
18. Who likes to read?
"I do! If I'm not reading a physical book I'm always reading something on my phone!"
19. Who bothers the other person while the other person reads?
Makki grins, pointing to himself while Ori shoots him a playful glare
20. Who tutors the other?
"Hiro is actually wicked smart. He an invaluable study buddy"
"Ori is the definition of a bimbo"
"Nah I'm the shebo, I'm not hot enough to make bimbo status"
"Excuse me? Consensus says you are both very hot AND definitely belonging in the bimbo category"
"Consensus? What consensus"
Makki smiles, a little too innocently. "Group Chat"
"Oh my god"
21. Do they have similar taste in movies?
"Ori enjoys literally everything so it's really easy to find common ground"
"We change it up a lot, but we're usually end up with either a horror movie or we binge an anime"
22. How do their personalities compliment each other?
"We're both fucking weirdos"
"Yeah, and Hiro's calm complements my loud - he grounds me when I need it"
"goes both ways - I get loud too. Feelings are loud sometimes and that's ok"
Ori snorts. "Ok, dr.phil"
23. How do they tell everyone that they are going to be having a kid/adopting a child soon?
"Is like, texting them an option?"
"We'll take em' out for breadsticks or something"
"Oh lets have them open up like a lil onesie, our moms would die"
Ori laughs "What's it gonna say on it"
"'You're both grandmas now. Congrats, you old bitches'"
Ori wheezes, folding in on herself in her seat
"That's so fucking stupid, we are absolutely doing that"
24. Who has better fashion sense?
"Look at us. Look at how we're dressed"
"There are holes in my shirt"
"and that's his nice shirt"
"In my defense, it had holes when I bought it"
"So holes are fashionable now?"
"Apparently"
"Hobo chic"
25. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?
"Ori is a doormat-"
"RUDE"
"-Lemme finish babe - until it comes to her people. If someone's rude to me she is ready to throw hands in seconds flat"
"damn straight...would you fight for me?"
"Of course. you think I wouldn't?"
"Just making sure<3"
26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle?
"EVERYTHING"
27. What other couple would your otp get along with?
Ori perks up "Flora and Osamu!!! I love the both of them so much, they're so cute together too"
"They're great people, plus Osamu gives us free food and honestly, what else do you need in a friend"
Ori slaps Makki's shoulder "Stop acting like you only like Osamu for his cooking"
"I'm only kidding!"
28. Who likes to prank the other?
"Ori does this thing where she'll do something nice for me and then go "get pranked!" when I notice"
"I do indeed do that"
"I am not kind. Sometimes I'll just, buy an air horn. And press it. while she's asleep."
Ori glares at Makki
"he does indeed do that"
29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures?
"I do"
"He's alwaysss taking pictures, but I hate getting my picture taken and he's super respectful of that"
"...yeah"
(Later, when Ori's stepped out for a minute
"I do take pics of her. She doesn't know it but I do"
Makki starts to show off an album full of candids of Ori
Makki sighs, a soft smile on his face "She's so pretty"
"Don't tell her about this please, she'll murder me")
30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates?
"Oof"
"That's what you'd say? Oof?"
"It's an oof for you. stuck? with me? forever?"
"you doofus, there's no one else I'd rather have"
"you little fucker, you're gonna make me cry"
makki laughs and squeezes her hand "love you stinky"
Ori sniffles "Yeah I love you too I guess"
31. Where would they live?
"right now we live in an apartment in Osaka-"
"but eventually we wanna by a house. We're thinking of going back home to Miyagi"
"We miss the small town atmosphere"
32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one?
"oh my god, a little shoulder dragon would be so cute"
"ok but imagine how much money we'd save with something we could ride to work"
"shit, you're so right"
33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be?
"There are types of vampires?" looks to Makki, Makki shrugs
"Is dying an option?"
34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween?
"we do themed couple ones but like, not sexy ones"
"yeah, like for instance our friends went as a fireman and his girl was a dalmation, and we were-"
"bob ross and his panting!"
"...she was bob ross"
"this year I'm trying to get him to dress as mothman so I can dress up as a lamp"
35. Can they name each other’s favourite food?
"Ori loves chicken to the point where it's almost concerning"
"Hiro likes cream puffs"
"No no, they're Profiteroles"
"they're the same thing babe"
"but profiteroles sound so much fancier"
36. Do they have pet names for one another?
"The usual"
"Babe, baby-"
"stinky, fuckass-"
"bubs-"
"doofus, dumbass, nerd"
"nothing crazy"
37. How do they cheer each other up?
"I swear to god he's a psychic - he always knows exactly what I need. Sometimes I need space, sometimes I just need a hug, other times he'll have a whole self care night in prepared for me when I get home"
"Ori always knows what to do. She's not a snuggler but she will let me hold her for hours if it meant making me feel better. Honestly most of the time she holds me because - well, boobs"
"Takahiro!"
Makki laughs and jerks away as she pinches his side
38. Do they show a lot of PDA?
"I think we're not too bad. We hold hands, I'll give her the occasional kiss. She lets me wrap my arm around her sometimes"
"These questions are making me feel like a bad girlfriend. Let? :("
"hush, you're the best. You think I'd stick around if you were a bad girlfriend? Do you know how obsessed with you I am? The boys clown me for never shutting up about you even after all this time"
*Ori buries her face in her hands to hide the blush* "Oh my god you're so lame"
"That's her way of saying she loves me too :)"
39. How old were they when they got together?
"I was 22, Ori was 20"
"holy shit, almost four years?"
"Yep"
"wow"
40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home?
"Me!"
"She's done it before. She named her Ripley"
41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses?
both start cackling "Absolutely not. We can try but it would be a disaster"
42. What is their song?
"Oh its-"
Castaways from the Backyardigans starts playing from Makki's phone as he grins.
"-our song is not Castaways, Hiro"
"It could be. We could decide it is right now"
"We are not making our song Castaways"
"oh c'moooonnnnn, it's a bop!"
Ori laughs "Its-"
"Your song by Elton John. It was playing when we kissed for the first time"
Ori covers her smile with her hand, her eyes soft as she looks at Makki
43. What does their room look like?
"A mess right now, Ori had to find an outfit for today so there are clothes everywhere"
Ori grins sheepishly
44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded?
"Hiro would probably do the killing, I would be moral support"
"I dunno babe, I think if you snapped you could totally become a badass"
"You think so?"
"Hell yeah, I've seen you get mad at Mattsun enough times to know you can get scary as hell when you wanna"
45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed?
"we've done it for each other, it depends on the day to be honest"
46. Who loves kids more?
"Ori"
"But the kids LOVE Hiro so much its crazy, and he's so good with them"
"I like kids well enough but they're so rude and for what"
"I find their lack of filter funny!"
"If you ever feel your ego is too big, just talk to a seven year old. They'll drag to hell and back with no hesitation"
47. Do either of them have a crazy ex?
"I dunno. Do you?"
"No. Do you?"
"Nope"
"Cool"
48. What are their favourite colours?
"Hiro's is this very specific red color"
"Ori doesn't have one, it changes all the time"
"this is true"
49. Who likes to cook?
"Oh I love cooking!"
"She does majority of the cooking but we sometimes cook together"
"he is utter chaos in the kitchen but we always have a good time, even if he make my blood pressure go through the roof"
50. Who is the forgetful one?
"Hey Ori, what'd you have for breakfast this morning."
"I- um. An Iced Coffee?"
"Final answer?"
"....yes"
"Bzzzt. Wrong. You had cereal :)"
51. Does either of them know how to fight?
"I don't mean to brag, but I've taken Tai chi lessons"
"Babe, you signed up for those lessons after we binged Avatar, and you only went to four of those classes before quitting because it was too hard"
"Those four lessons taught me enough to kick someone's ass for you though"
Ori laughs "I'm sure they did"
52. What do they do for Valentines Day?
"We have this tradition of going to the store and each of us take turns blindly picking out snacks, pajamas, and either a movie/video game/or craft project and we stay in and have a little pamper day"
"we also absolutely RAID the store next day when the candy is half off"
53. Who swears more?
"We both swear a lot to be honest"
"Oh my god we're so bad"
54. Who has the better comebacks?
"Hiro, 100%"
"Ori is quick too though"
"But you go right for the jugular"
"I'm not mean to you though"
"Oh no! I just mean with others, like Oikawa - you drag that man within an inch of his life"
Makki laughs "Oh ok yeah that's fair"
55. Who would start a fight with another parent at a bake sale?
"Me. Like I said, Ori is a doormat. She is so afraid of confrontation someone could literally spit on her and she'd apologize to them"
"It sounds so bad when you put it like that"
56. Who reads buzzfeed?
"Hiro says he does them ironically, but I'll be reading something on my phone and he'll start asking me obscure questions, and then I realize he's trying to get me to build a smoothie so he can find out with 'Desperate Houswife' I am"
"She got Gabrielle"
"Which isn't even accurate, I'm totally more of a Susan"
"You have some of Gabrielle's spice, though"
"What did you get?"
"Me? oh, I got Lynette"
"kinda accurate, actually"
57. Who is the hopeless romantic?
"I am, she makes fun of me but I know she loves it"
"I do, honestly"
58. Do either of them know how to do a handstand?
"I do!"
59. Who can rap better?
"oh god, neither of us"
"speak for yourself"
"go on babe, rap for them"
"...well I can't right now"
"exactly"
60. Do either of them want to go sky diving?
"I'd be down"
"I love the idea of it but oof, I'm too chicken shit"
61. What do they usually text about?
Makki pulls out his phone
"'hey babe, we're out of eggs' - that was Ori"
"'dog' - with a pic attached of said dog, that was from me"
"11/10, 'I hope he knows what a good boy he is', that was Ori's response"
"Then Ori ranted to me about Uraraka's character development"
"the wasted potential is appalling"
"absolutely it is. 3 hours later, from me - 'I forgot eggs'"
62. Who is the dramatic one?
"me, for sure"
"She's self aware though so its not so bad"
63. Is either one confrontational?
"Not really? We both avoid confrontation whenever possible. If something needs to be said though, I don't really have any reservations about it"
64. What is their favourite cuddle position?
"Me as the big spoon, I much prefer holding him I think, its less hot that way"
"Plus, boobs :3"
Ori groans as Makki laughs "I hate you"
65. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)?”
"Ooooh thats a toughie, we listen to so much"
66. What are their parenting styles?
"I tend to be the bad guy"
"That's not true!"
"Why do you think kids like you better? I'm the one who makes them eat veggies for a snack and you bribe them with ice cream"
"I promise we'll share the bad guy role when we have our own"
Ori narrows her eyes at Makki, sticking her tongue out at him "we better"
67. Who would be the more laid back one?
"Hiro, I get wound like a fucking top sometimes"
"You stress easily, but its ok, when you're stressed you get mean and its kinda hot"
"I'm glad my breakdowns are sexy to you"
Makki laughs "You know that's not what I meant"
68. Who listens to more vulgar music?
"Ehh, neither of us really"
"not our jam"
69. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know?
"...do you?"
"....no"
"That was suspish"
"I'm sorry did you just say 'suspish'?"
"don't change the subject! what are you hiding?"
"Nothing!! I swear"
"Pinky?"
"Pinky"
(later, while Ori's out of the studio, he shows a picture of the ring to the camera.
"So, yeah. There is one secret. I'm really bad at lying though so let's not put me on the spot like that anymore please" The man looks d a m p with sweat lmao)
70. Who is their go to couple for a double date?
"FLOSAMU, 100%. We're overdue too, I miss them!"
71. Do they tip the waiter/waitress on their date?
"Generously"
"If you don't tip you're a jackass"
72. How do they work out a fight?
"Communication is key. We often give each other the silent treatment but it usually is just to clear our heads so we can come back to talk it out"
"He's so mature when it comes to our relationship. The way he takes charge when I'm flailing and don't know what to do or how to proceed is so sexy" Ori starts fanning herself as if to emphasis her point, a teasing grin plastered on her face
73. Who brings home an illegal pet?
"Hiro will bring anything home if it's injured. It could be a snake and if he's worried its hurt I will come home to it in the bath"
"you gotta save the animals, babe"
"Most people would call a wildlife facility though, not take them to their tiny city apartment"
74. What side of the bed do each of them sleep on?
"I sleep on the left! I don't think either of us are particularly picky about it though"
"We usually wake up sprawled anyway with no clear sign of where we were before"
75. What is their favorite photo of them two together?
"There's a picture someone took of us dancing at a wedding. Ori is mid laugh in that photo and she's just - shit, she's so pretty."
"Hiro what the fuck why are you so sappy today"
"I dunno - I just think you're neat"
Ori's lips tremble a tiny bit. She sniffles. "It's my favorite photo too."
76. Who takes longer in the bathroom?
"Oh my god-"
"Okay-"
"SHE TAKES FOREVER"
"OKAY, LISTEN-"
"SHE ONLY GOES ON TIKTOK WHEN SHE GOES TO THE BATHROOM"
"I JUST GO THROUGH MY NOTIFICATIONS"
"SHE IS NEVER - STOP HITTING ME - SHE IS NEVER QUICKER THAN 30 MINUTES"
"YOU ARE SO DRAMATIC"
"DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON SHOWERS"
77. Who has more songs on their ipod?
"Hiro, I kinda keep to the stuff I know, while he's constantly adding new music"
78. What movie did they first see together?
"Uhhh I think it was-"
"It was Princess Mononoke, you were appalled when I said I hadn't seen it yet"
"Honestly I still am. How do you go through 20 years of your life without having seen Princess Mononoke?" Ori shrugs
79. What do they like to see each other in?
"nothing"
"not sure what I expected, really"
"I mean was there really any other answer?"
80. Who makes jokes during inappropriate times?
"Oh god. Both of us. We are so terrible"
"Sometimes Ori will nudge me if I'm being especially bad but she is usually the one egging me on because there is nothing cuter than her trying to hold in a laugh"
81. At what age do they discuss the possibility of children?
"We started talking about it a few months ago"
"It wouldn't be any time soon either, its just discussing the topic so we know where each of us stand"
"Yeah, there's still a lot for us to figure out"
"Like, you know, finances and getting married and stuff"
Ori bites her lip "...yeah, and stuff."
82. What do they love about each other the most?
"It's probably a cop out to say everything"
"please, you don't love everything, I'm a mess"
"but you're MY mess" Ori smiles and kicks him playfully
"This is going to sound super cheesy, but I just love his heart? He's loves so loudly and so wholly. With everyone and everything around him. He's just such a good person and it's insane to think he somehow chose to be with me, a human dumpster"
"You were so romantic until you called yourself a dumpster"
"It was getting too soft, I gotta keep my bruh girl reputation"
"You're such a dork"
83. Who is the one that sees the big picture, while the other focus’s on the small details?
"I think we're both kind of big picture people"
"No, babe, you are obsessive over minute details"
"No I'm not!"
"Everything takes you twice as long because you are constantly quadruple checking if its ok"
"..."
"and you get so stressed when you're given a project or a problem that's even the tiniest bit vague"
"well, I-"
"And don't even get me started on when you're cleaning, you always take forever because you go through every single item you've ever owned even if you know you're gonna toss or keep it"
"Okay, I feel really attacked right now" Makki laughs
84. What would they write on their partner’s social media’s for their anniversary?
"I usually go with a tried and true mixture of sappy and funny. I post a couple photo of us that I like or just a standalone of him and I give a cute little snippet talking about how lucky I am"
"Every year I just go on a rant about how much I love her. I'm always overwhelmed on anniversaries so I keyboard smash my way through the post."
85. Who is bad at math?
"Me, I don't understand any of it. Hiro is actually pretty good at it though"
86. Who googles everything?
"I've caught her trying to google where her glasses are"
"OKAY to be FAIR I was googling to see what the most likely places would be, it was just to give me ideas"
"And where were they?"
"*sigh* in the fridge"
"why?"
"because I was on autopilot and I assumed it was the butter"
87. Who does stuff on impulse?
"Oh, me. Ori does sometimes but she always regrets whatever she impulse did"
"its normally shopping and then I'm sad because I'm broke again"
88. How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?
"honestly? We learned this the hard way, but...just being there, letting them know they can lean on you when they need to. Being a pillar and giving them the space and comfort to let them tell you what they need and how you can help. Communication is so important in a relationship"
"You said you learned that the hard way? What do you mean by that?"
Ori and Makki share a look
"It's a long story. Another time, maybe"
89. What is an inside joke they have?
They both immediately start laughing
"Are you also thinking-"
"Yes! What about-"
"*incoherent wheezing*"
"well there's the-"
"or the-"
"oh my god remember-"
all the sentences go unfinished, laughter dissolving any chance of you ever figuring any of them out.
90. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?
"I think its mutual, sometimes we will literally just look at each other and we'll smile without even realizing it."
"We're so gross"
"Ugh, I know." But they smile at each other
91. What is their favourite holiday?
"New years! Christmas is always nice but its stressful with gift giving. New years is always stress free and a good time, plus Ori loves visiting the shrines the next day"
"It's so peaceful, and seeing everyone pay their respects fills me with an overwhelming appreciation for humanity."
92. Who is the one that is calm and collected while the other is angry and destructive?
Ori pouts.
"I'm the angry one. I know I am. I'm a menace"
"You're not a menace babe, you just feel a little more than others"
"Are you like high right now or something? What has got you so wise and therapist-y"
"Love." Makki wiggles his eyebrows as she scoffs, her soft giggles betraying the eye roll
93. What is their favourite board game to play?
"Clue!"
94. Who accidentally sets something on fire?
"Okay, it's me, it's happened more than once too"
"She doesn't know the first thing about safety in the kitchen"
"I want to argue so bad but I just know I can't" she sighs
95. Who has the car ready while the other is robbing the store?
"I'm robbing. Ori would get distracted"
"valid"
96. What artist/group did they go to for their first concert?
"Mother Mother"
"It was INSANE"
97. Who sleep talks?
"Hiro does" Ori starts giggling, pulls up the sleep app on her phone
"Wanna listen?"
98. Who is the more social one?
"Oh, me, definitely. She is more talkative but Ori rarely initiated conversation with new people or if she's in a new environment at all"
99. What are their karaoke songs?
"I have to be absolutely trashed before we even attempts Karaoke but we do a duet and its either Bohemian Rhapsody or one of our cheesy love songs"
100. Who would get up on stage and make a fool of themselves just to make the other laugh?
"Hiro!! He does it all the time and I love him for it"
"Awh, love you too babe"
"And that's a wrap!"
Makki looks at Ori, grabbing her hand and instinctively intertwining their hands together. "Ready to go, stinky?"
Ori smiles, bringing their entangled hands up to lips as she presses a soft kiss to his skin.
"Ready."
9 notes · View notes
onthepyre · 4 years
Text
rest your bones next to me (part 2)
previous / next
1.9k, swearing, prinxiety and background moceit
With Roman and Remus at his sides, Virgil found navigating the desolate streets at night to be far less nerve-wracking.  Roman took to rambling about the people they were headed to meet as Virgil and Remus sipped their drinks.
“Okay, so there’s Patton and Janus — they’re married.  I probably ought to warn you, Janus has this big scar on his face from something that happened when he was a kid.  He won’t tell us what exactly it’s from, but we think it’s a burn.  Mostly just don’t make a big deal out of it, ‘cause he’ll kill you.”
“Learned that the hard way,” Remus mumbled.  “He seems tough, but he’ll grow on you.”
“And then Patton is the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet.  If he had the money he’d take in every kid he meets.  Their apartment doesn’t have heat, and there’s only one bedroom, and the stove is pretty shitty.  It’s a roof over our heads, though, gives us somewhere to stay.  They just ask that you contribute something at least once a week.”
“So like, bring home dinner?”  Virgil paused his slurping to glance up at Roman as they walked.
“Yeah!  Or give ‘em some money to go towards rent, or buy some toilet paper.  Just basic shit.  Remus and I usually get some of the groceries.  We work part-time at the theatre.  Pay isn’t great, but it’s enough to stay with Patton and Janus and save for… whenever.”
“Tell him about Logan.”
“Oh!  Logan’s seventeen, he’s lived with Pat and Jan for about two years now, his cousin is a friend of theirs.  He was with them for their wedding, actually.  He’s hoping to get into college on academic scholarships — he’s managed to stay in school this whole time.  Remus and I dropped out when we started living on the streets.  School just complicates things.”
“Wait, you guys don’t go to school?  What about your parents?”  Virgil paused to think, realizing he wouldn’t be able to attend classes without money for public transport — money he didn’t have.
“I think they told the school we moved or something.  Or maybe that we got accepted into some private school.”
Remus shrugged.  “I think they said we died, but Roman doesn’t believe me.”
“Oh my god.  In what scenario would we both die, but not them?  Murder-suicide?”
“Maybe.”
Virgil smiled.  “It’s plausible.  Which one of you killed the other?”
“Oh my god.”
Remus stopped walking so he could cackle properly, with Virgil just behind him.  Roman stood, hands on hips, staring at them.
“That’s not even funny.”
“It’s funny because you think it isn’t,” Virgil said.  He had stopped laughing, but Remus was bent nearly in half on the sidewalk.  Virgil had to admit, it really wasn’t that funny, but something about upsetting his brother had absolutely killed Remus.  He wobbled, catching Virgil’s arm for balance.
“If you don’t hurry the fuck up, there is going to be a murder.”
This only prompted more howling.  Roman covered his face with his hands as Virgil stared.  He assumed it must have been a strange scene to the people in the car that drove by — half-illuminated by streetlights, they were a strange trio to spot in the early hours of the morning.  At last, Roman reached down and pulled Remus up, then began walking.  Virgil followed at their heels.
“So, how old are you guys?”
“Sixteen.  We both got outed by some shithead on student council back in May.  Needless to say, our parents weren’t too happy about it.  What about you?”
“I’m sixteen too.”  Virgil took a long swallow of his slurpee.  “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Hey, that’s okay,” Remus said.  “Shit’s rough.  Let us know if you do.”
“I will.”
As they lapsed into silence, Virgil noticed for the first time since he left his house how cold it really was.  A gentle breeze nipped through the holes in his ratty jacket, and he realized he could feel his nose going numb.  His fingers were already tinted a bright shade of pink, but he chalked that up to the ice in the slurpee.  He wondered, if it was chilly enough to bother him in early October, how he was possibly going to survive winter.
Apparently sensing that he was starting to worry, Roman started talking again.  “Okay, the apartment is right up here.  It… does look kind of sketchy from the outside, but I promise it’s nicer inside.”  Remus dug a keyring containing at least twenty keys from his pocket.  He handed it to Roman, who found what was apparently the apartment key.  Roman, with a smile on his face, handed it to Virgil.  It was small, silver, and entirely nondescript, except for the letter “R” carved into the top.  The engraving was messy, seemingly done out of boredom — Virgil assumed with a pocket knife.
“Pat let me unlock the door the first day we stayed here.  He said it makes it feel more like normal, like you’re coming home after a long day.  I figured I should pass it on.  We’ll get you your own key sometime soon.”
Virgil tried to hide how strangely soft he suddenly felt, but it was apparent he failed when Roman slung an arm around his shoulders.
“I know it’s kind of a lot.  I’m sorry.  Really.  It’s right up here, we can talk to Pat and Jan and then go to bed, okay?  Some sleep’ll do you good.”
Overwhelmed, Virgil nodded.  He had little time to process Roman’s words, as Remus skipped ahead with a smile on his face.
“We’re here!”  He stopped in front of a large brick building, its white paint flaking off.  A set of rusty metal stairs led to an off-white door on the second story, but Remus led them through the gate to the first floor entrance.
“I’m not sure how many people live above us, but they’ve gotta have at least three kids,” Roman whispered.  “There’s no other explanation for how much fucking noise they make.”  Virgil grinned.  Hands shaking, he jammed the key in the lock and turned it.  He opened the door gently, in case someone was asleep, though based on Roman’s words he assumed nobody was.
Virgil’s assumptions proved to be at least partially correct when a voice from the kitchen exclaimed, “Boys!  You’re finally home!”  Remus bounded inside, leaving Virgil and Roman standing in the doorway.  Roman’s arm fell from Virgil’s shoulders and gave as he gave an awkward half-wave.
“This is Virgil.  He got kicked out.  Would it be okay if he stayed with us?”
The man, who Virgil assumed was Patton, melted by about a million degrees.  “Oh, honey, of course.  Stay as long as you need.  Come on in, I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”
Hesitantly, Virgil stepped into the apartment.  Roman entered just after him, kicking off his shoes onto the tile floor of the kitchen.  Virgil followed suit, then handed the ring of keys back to Remus, who had sat down on one of the mismatched chairs at the table.  
“Does anybody know if Logan is still awake?  He was studying last time I saw him.”
“He went to bed about an hour ago,” said a new voice.  Virgil spotted him suddenly, sitting in the corner of the room, a copy of some obscure book in his hands.  Based on the large scar on his face, Virgil assumed him to be Janus.  He nodded at Virgil, then resumed his reading.
“Roman, Remus, do you want some hot chocolate?”  Both nodded, and Patton pulled another two mugs from the cabinet, making five total.
“I assume they told you the conditions?” asked Janus without looking up.
“Contribute something once a week?”
“You’ve got it!”  
Virgil sunk his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.  He had little to distract him without Roman at his side, leaving him to fall back into every nervous habit he had.
“Come sit,” said Remus, patting the chair next to him.  Virgil spent the next ten minutes fielding questions from Patton and Janus — what’s your last name, are you planning on going to school, do you have a job, how much stuff do you have with you, are you able to go home to get more.  Jones, no, no, nothing, no.  The mug of hot chocolate set in front of him came as a relief, as it gave him an excuse to stop talking.
“I’ll have Roman take you down to the Goodwill tomorrow,” Patton said, sitting down across from him.  He glanced at Roman, who nodded, smiling.  “That jacket of yours isn’t going to do much when winter comes.  If you’d prefer it instead of a new one, though, pick up something to use as scrap fabric and we can mend it.”
Suddenly unwilling to even remove his hoodie, Virgil nodded.  “Yeah,” He said softly, picking at a hole in the sleeve.  “That sounds good.”
“I’m exhausted,” Roman announced.  “Are you tired, Virgil?”  His voice was just a bit too loud, and Virgil caught onto what he was doing — looking for a way to get him out of the room.  He appreciated the effort.
“Dead on my feet,” he said as he stood.  “Where am I sleeping?”
“The couch, if you want, but it’s got a bunch of springs poking through, the floor, or you can join the pile.”  Roman gave a wicked grin.
“What’s the pile?”  
“There’s only room for one bed.  You can figure it out.”
With only seconds of consideration, Virgil chose the floor.  With a small nod, Roman led him into the next room.  His voice was hushed when he spoke again.
“I know the bed situation is kind of weird.  We’ve got an extra blanket, but it can get kind of cold on the floor, so I can, uh, sleep with you.  If you want.”  He scratched at the back of his neck, then turned to the closet in the corner.  “It would be at least a little less weird than cuddling with a bunch of guys you met five minutes ago.”
Virgil smiled at his back as he dug through the piles of clothes.  “Roman, I met you like, an hour ago.”  The boy in question sputtered indignantly.  “But yeah.  It is pretty chilly, so if you don’t mind the back pain tomorrow, that would be… fine.”
Roman nodded, almost enthusiastically, as he turned with a blanket in his arms.  “Okay.  I know there isn’t much room on the floor, but wherever you want.”
Virgil collapsed onto the beaten-down shag carpet, Roman close behind him.  He spread the blanket over them then laid down, letting the exhaustion show through his bright facade for the first time.
“Do you just want me next to you for body heat or is it okay if I…?”  Roman’s voice, barely a broken whisper, didn’t make it through the end of the question, but Virgil caught the idea anyway.
“It’s fine.  I can pretend we’re star-crossed lovers or something instead of dealing with… this.  And I trust you.  Somehow.”  He hoped Roman heard the joking tone in his voice, because his words, though true, felt far too vulnerable to share.  Roman took them as an invitation and turned to pull Virgil to his chest.
It felt strange at first, but they quickly settled into an embrace.  It kept the cold at bay, after all, so it was better than being alone.  Virgil buried his face in the folds of Roman’s shirt, and Roman pressed his nose against Virgil’s hair.  It carried the distinct overtones of romance, but it wasn’t something Virgil was eager to fight against.  Despite the odds, he slept like the dead.
39 notes · View notes
jessisvibing · 3 years
Note
for the obscure asks: ALL OF THEM!
Oh gosh okay
1. Fave way to dress
Glam. Like Steve summers, Sami yaffa, and mark slaughter all had a child
2. If I could change anything about myself
Probably either my stomach or my face but perhaps i would just like a new self esteem
3. What movie/game/etc helps me calm down
Rock n roll high school
4. What does your room smell like?
Depends if I wanna use the hot chocolate candle, the marshmallow whatever it is candle or the one that reminds me of Disney.
5. Do you like to organize?
Oh heck I have to be organized or it bothers me.
6. What kind of music would you listen to if you could only choose one?
If we mean genre then perhaps 2000s Finnish rock. Or maybe 80s glam. But if we’re going for bands Poison and Pretty Boy Floyd never get old.
7. What song is your aesthetic?
MOONCHILD!!!
The song, the video, ALL OF IT!
8. What color do you think goes best with your personality?
Although my favorite color is green I’m usually associated with black or red.
I’ve been told if I was a color I was without a doubt the color black
9. Do you believe in auras?
Perhaps so.
10. What do you wish you hated but actually like?
Apulanta 😂
Well not really but it’s hard to explain them to people. I could probably name a few things but nothing comes to mind off the top of my head.
11. Vague about your crushes.
Well, he’s got the most beautiful eyes and voice and the warmest smile. I think he lives in France with his girlfriend so he’ll never like me but something about him just gives me a warm feeling. He has a message with his music and I just wish I could be like him. Is that too much to be vague?
This ones definitely been through a lot but I feel like I need to try and make a difference in his life. Frankie knows who he is cause I’ve told her this before but ever since I first discovered him I fell in love with him and most people don’t support that I like him but that’s okay. He’s funny to me and his music is comforting to me.
12. Is there someone you have mixed feelings towards?
It’s hard to pinpoint my emotions. Especially when I first meet people. Sometimes I just don’t know how I feel about one of my friends that I dated once. Do I love him or not? I’d like to know.
13. An Au or story I came up with.
I have a lot of crack stories about poison and Jekyll and Hyde I’ve yet to write. All I gotta say is cc’s insults give me life.
14. Do you like makeup?
I liked it better on me when my hair was long now I just don’t vibe with it but concealer has saved my life a few times. It’s just better on guys.
15. Do you prefer space or ocean?
Y’know it may come as a surprise but I’ve always kinda wanted to visit space. I absolutely love the stars and I’m kinda a space geek.
16. If I could pick any planet besides earth, where would I live?
I wanna say Uranus as a joke but on a serious note I think Venus or Mars would be neat.
17. What form of government do you like most?
Monarchy. It’s just easier than this american shit.
18. What animal would I keep as a pet?
Omg omg I always wanted a snow ermine🥰
Tumblr media
19. What do you think the purpose of our universe is?
Well I’m a Christian so I could go deep into it but I’ll just leave it at that.
20. Do you believe in god(s)?
Yes if my last answer wasn’t obvious enough.
21. Is there a song you can’t handle listening to even tho I like it.
It was hard enough to get into this song but when I discovered why mark wrote it it’s hard not to cry when I hear it.
22. What ex do you miss most?
Well I wouldn’t quite say I miss any of them. I’m still best friends with my most recent. I feel like I haven’t found a great relationship yet. Sorry val babe.
23. Do you like soft fluffy rough or smooth blankets.
I have a fluffy one hanging on my bed frame haha.
24. What is your fave thing to learn about?
Hmm I love a lot of stuff, as much as finnish fascinates me I absolutely adore mythology.
25. What country’s history do you find most interesting?
I’ve been in too many American history classes to enjoy it anymore. The Finnish history is very neat to me.
26. What do you think about genderbent characters?
Heck I used to love them but now I’m neutral
Perhaps depends on the character.
27. What breakup was the hardest.
Oh none hit me very hard but my last boyfriend took it the worst I’d bet.
28. Do you have someone where you can’t decide if you like them romantically or just as a friend?
Still with Val. I just don’t know how to feel.
29. What do you think about tumblr discourse?
Ugh I came here to get away from it but as long as it’s sporadical and not constant I can put up with it.
30. What instrument do you wish you could master?
I’d just like to pursue bass decently rn, we’ll talk about that later.
One day I’ll drum hot for teacher. I just needa buy a better drum set. I guess just being able to play both instruments decently would be a blessing.
31. How easy is it for you to be honest?
As easy as it is to lie.
I’m very honest and trustworthy but I could also be the exact opposite.
32. Do you have any strange interests?
Oh god okay so while y’all are over here obsessing over guys hands I can’t help but look at their stomach like omg I just wanna lay on it while my man tells me how much he loves me.
It’s not weird but I love Finnish accents. Just less common to hear someone say that rather than English.
Well I could go on and list a lot of stuff but then again
Tumblr media
33. Do you have any strange fears?
Peter steele 🤣
Obviously a joke but anyways
34. What food do you binge when you’re lazy?
Fries usually but I could eat pasta or fish sticks or rice galore.
35. When you get angry how do you show it?
Usually through cursing a lot but when I’ve got the hots for someone I curse a lot too. I speak more violently when I’m mad though I probably won’t act as violent as I sound. Don’t be afraid.
However as much as I say it I will gladly break your nose and you’d better believe it so it better not come to that point.
36. Do you have any impulsive movements?
Eh idunno but when I get bored I’ll put my index finger on my nose (up to about my eye. So if my hand is on my nose you better spice up the topic.) oh I also play with my hair when I get bored.
And if I get anxious it’ll be obvious. I’ve also been told when I get scared I have a death grip so if you try and work up my nerves just expect your hand to be broken 😝
37. What do you listen to music on?
That depends. If I want 80s music I’ll go to amazon, if it’s not on Amazon or I want something specific from Spotify then I go to YouTube. If I don’t know what I want or I want Finnish music I’ll go to Spotify.
38. Are you left brained or right brained?
I don’t think I have a brain. As much as my mom wants to tell me I’m left I seem to be more right brained.
39. Earbuds or headphones?
Ugh earbuds. I don’t like headphones unless I’m using my Walkman. Headphones are so 2010s/elementary school 😂
40. Do you like light blankets or heavy?
Meh light. I just don’t get the thing about heavy blankets. Plus they’re frustrating to get settled in.
Yay that was super fun! Thank you!!
2 notes · View notes
subasekabang · 4 years
Text
One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed
Title: One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed Rating: T/PG-13 for swearing and bloodless violence Word Count: 13,700 Pairings/Characters: No ships/Genfic. Neku, Joshua, Hanekoma as main characters. Appearances by most everyone else from TWEWY including Beat, Rhyme, Shiki, the reapers Warnings: brief mentions of past trauma/death (some of the Reapers discuss why they died), angelic/eldritch body horror (no blood or gore), imprisonment Summary: Neku’s in college now, and other than passing through Shibuya’s subway station to get to other parts of the city, he doesn’t really stop by much anymore. But when he gets a serious case of artist’s block before a gallery show, he decided to go back to his old stomping grounds to get inspired. Partner: @soundofez​ and @songsummoner​ Author’s Note: This was a fun, super weird piece. I also did some art for it on top of my partner’s work; all the art from me and my partners will appear in the correct parts of the fic on my AO3 link, which will go up Oct. 2. I’ll link in reply to this post with it when that’s up so you can see some really weird stuff (my own art is included below, though!!). Special thanks to Fez for designing college-age Neku’s clothes.
Also, Neku fights (and apologizes to) a building.
Enjoy!
XXX
Neku sighed. Squinting, he rolled up the blinds on his studio apartment a little, taking in the view. One window, the Skytree. The other, he could glimpse the top part of Sensouji’s pagoda. Asakusa was no Shibuya, but it had lots of car free pathways, quirky art stalls, and lots of tourists to draw. And it was a heck of a lot cheaper than living in Ueno.
He could walk to campus in about half an hour on a good day or take the subway just one stop to Tokyo University of the Arts on a bad one. It was convenient and, while a touristy area, surprisingly quiet.
Too quiet today, though. Neku fired up his tablet, pinging his friends. They always called everyone in a big group chat, though there was no obligation to answer.
“Sup, Phones?” Beat grinned into the camera, a giggle heard in the background.
“Beat, are you ever going to actually use his name?”
“I am though!” Best objected. “Neku’s tag is a pair of headphones. It’s practically his name at this point.”
“You’re not going to win on a technicality,” Rhyme chirped, turning the camera so she was in frame. “We’re between takes, anyway. What’s up, Neku?”
“Shit, did I interrupt a shoot?” Neku hovered over the hang-up button.
“I just said we were on break!” Rhyme reiterated, flailing her hands in front of her. “But Beat is shooting with your deck!”
His friend, who had only grown more muscular with the past five years, hefted up his skateboard, showing off the art of a flying squirrel on the undercarriage. “It’s still the sickest one I’ve got. You’d better have another one in the wings when it gets decommissaried, yo!”
“Decommissioned.”
“Whatever.”
“It’s not whatever, Beat,” another voice popped in, the newcomer’s eyebrow quirked in a hint of static as the visual flickered on.
“Sup, Shiki!” Beat said, waving wildly.
“Meet me for drinks when you’re done shooting? I can hop on the subway. It’s only a stop.”
“How’d you know where we are?”
“Beat, you always skate in Ikebukuro,” Shiki said matter-of-factly. “And I’m at school, so I’m only a stop away from you.”
“Oh. Right. Sometimes I wish we kept our mind reading powers,” Beat said with a pout.
“Noooooo thank you,” Shiki said with a grin. “Anyway, what’s all this about? I’ve got ten minutes ‘til my Fashion Sales class.”
Neku scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepishly at the camera. “I… er. Kinda needed some advice. I’ve got a gallery class where my one assignment is supposed to take the whole semester and I’m a bit stuck. I need to hand my draft proposition in by the end of next week.”
“What’s the topic?” Rhyme asked.
“That’s the thing. The art—even the medium—is up to me. Every fine art track has to take this thing. So, it doesn’t need to be painting, but I have to secure a space and create a work to match it. Like, get permission to paint a building, or something like that. Private or public property, just no vandalism. Street paste or yarn bombing is OK in public spaces. Basically, as long as it’s non-destructive; otherwise we need permission from the owner.”
“So, you need to scout out a place and make something that compliments it?” Rhyme asked.
“Yeah. And we can work together if we want. I don’t know my classmates well enough to know if our styles clash though.”
“Sounds tough.”
“That’s why it’s my whole assignment.”
Beat frowned. “I’ve got a good sponsorship going with Wild Boar. Could see if you could tag one of their shops.”
“Maybe,” Neku said. “But I want to step out of my comfort zone a little if I can. It’s a good backup.”
Shiki bit her lip. “Maybe you just need a little inspiration.”
“Little is an understatement.”
“What about that tag mural in Shibuya? Would that be fair game?”
The chat went silent. That wall in question was public property. It was absolutely not game—not for this assignment at least.
“Why?” Neku almost whispered, hoarse. “Why’d you even bring it up?”
“Because it’s been five years, Neku, and you haven’t gone back. CAT did what you’ve been assigned; he was a street artist who also did all these kinds of hired art too.”
“Hanekoma’s gone,” Neku reminded her. “I stopped trying. The shop was destroyed. If he ever came back, he’s not in Shibuya.”
“Then… ignore my bad idea,” Shiki said, not meeting eyes with the camera. “Sorry I brought it up.”
“No! No,” Neku reassured her, forcefully, then quiet, as if he were a deflating balloon. “Sorry if I snapped.”
“You didn’t snap,” Rhyme offered, before changing the subject. “I’ll think on it though; there’s gotta be some struggling coffee shop that could use some art, or something. Anyway… we need to get back to work, now.”
“And I have class. Neku, let’s chat tonight, after dinner? I can swing by your place. We can go get conveyor belt sushi over by Nakamise.”
“That… sounds pretty good, actually. Yeah. Let’s.”
“Later, alligator!” Rhyme said, chipper.
“Yeah! Later!” Shiki added.
“Let’s bounce!” Beat snuck in as Rhyme ended the call.
Neku was left alone to his thoughts.
Shibuya.
He and his friends romped through the city almost every weekend after they were all brought back—at least at first. Eventually exams took over for Shiki and Neku, both hell-bent on getting in Bunka Fashion College and Tokyo Arts respectively. Beat slowly got more and more skate sponsorships with Rhyme as his videographer, making her new dream to shoot the world’s best skater: her brother.
Neku closed his eyes, imagining the gleaming, ad-drenched skyscrapers, a far cry from the view from his apartment window.
Maybe.
Maybe it was time to finally go back; maybe Shiki wasn’t wrong. It was his old stomping grounds, his old home. And it was only a few hundred yens’ ride away.
Neku pinched his forearm once to ground himself, grabbed his wallet and a scarf (courtesy of Shiki’s weaving class, in a sturdy textured purple crepe) and headed out the door.
Xxx
Neku’s palm touched plaster and concrete. Slowly, he slid his hand along the wall, breathing out an exhale. Even in his high school years, when his friends would regularly bum around Shibuya after school and on weekends, he avoided the mural. It wasn’t that he stopped liking it; just… He felt he didn’t need it anymore. He had plenty of CAT’s art to keep him company, from the pins in his pocket to the billboards throughout the city.
Maybe he was young and naïve back then, but looking at the faded piece, partially obscured by other, less impressive tags… well, it didn’t seem very impressive anymore.
“‘Course it isn’t, you brain-dead binomial,” a familiar voice sneered from behind him. Neku whipped around to see Sho Minamimoto, cat whiskers and all, grinning with fanged teeth.
Sho put up his hands as a peace offering, sensing Neku’s hackles rising. “I’m not attacking the living; don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’d really rather not get divided by zero. Again.”
Neku relaxed his shoulders a little but said nothing.
“You’re a leaky faucet, you single-digit integer,” Sho explained, as he pointed to a vending machine, sending a pair of CC Lemon bottles flying out of it and at the two of them. He leaned against the mural, back to it, sliding down to sit and sighing with his drink. “I miss CAT, too, you know. Been the square-root of 25 years since anyone’s seen a new piece of his. Some of the reapers actually thought it might’ve been you.”
Neku laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Me?” he asked, plopping down next to his former enemy, accepting the citrus-flavored peace offering. “I was fifteen. And CAT had been active way before I was born.”
“Thought it was a title, you dumb fractal. Like Pope or Emperor.”
“Expert street artists are called Kings and Queens, you know.”
“And dead ones are Angels,” Sho added with a sage nod. “Trying to one-up a Reaper on art is like trying to find the cube root of i.”
Neku stared down at his soft drink, thinking of Hanekoma. The title suited him in more ways than one, thanks to a little packet he’d found in Mr. H’s shop back when he and Beat snuck in to see if there was anything they could save. Since Hanekoma was CAT, there had been a pretty strong likelihood some of his art was still in the ruined café, but sadly there wasn’t any evidence in there at all. Neku saw faded marks where canvases and an easel had once been stacked in a curious empty back room; someone had beaten them to clearing it out.
Sho pulled Neku out of his thoughts eventually, after one intrepid skater ate pavement attempting to grind the Cyco Records railing.
“What’s eating you, pain-in-my-vector? Well, former.”
“You don’t hold a grudge?” Neku asked curiously.
“It’s a long afterlife. Grudges are useless.”
The two sat in silence for a while, watching the skaters try their new decks outside the Wild Boar at the midpoint of the T section.
“You gonna ask me why I’m here?”
“I know why you’re here,” Sho replied testily, tapping his temple. “Was waiting to see if you’d give me the proof out of your mouth.”
“Right. Mind reading.”
“I can’t see every piece of the equation; that’s not how it works and you know it. But I can solve for x and fill in the blanks.”
Neku sighed. “What can you see?”
“That you’re stuck on a hard problem and you’ve been staring at your homework too long.”
“And by problem you mean—”
“I can’t tell—just some big project is eating you up. At least it’s not Higashizawa. That hectopascal can eat a man whole. I’ve seen it.” Minamimoto slung back his drink. “So, what’s eating you?”
“I mean, other than you being alive again?” Neku asked, eyebrow raised.
“Still dead as I was last you saw me.”
“Last I saw you, you were crushed under a vending machine.”
“Eh, I’ve had worse days.” Minamimoto shrugged. “That infinite asshole of a Composer fixed me back up and sent me right back to work. Now stop stalling, you obtuse angle. Out with it.”
“Artist’s block,” Neku admitted sheepishly. “I’ve got a big project coming up and I just can’t think of the right thing to do.”
Sho laughed, his head flung back and whole body shaking with the action. “Artist’s block, you dithering digit. You don’t think we Reapers never deal with that shit? At least for you, it’s not fatal.”
“F-fatal?” Neku asked, almost dropping his bottle.
“We run on Imagination,” Sho said, chucking his emptied-out drink with force, sending it flying halfway down the alley into a recycling bin attached to a vending machine. “No Imagination, no power. No power long enough and poof, divide by zero. Crunch. Drop a vending machine on me? I’ll walk it off. Go too long without making something…”
Sho went uncharacteristically quiet, running his fingers through a hole in his jeans.
“So, what do you do when you’re stuck?” Neku finally asked.
“I raid the trash. Something always finds its way to me.” Sho pulled a loose thread and threw it to the wind. “I don’t just mean the garbage; I mean the rest of us. Talkin’ it out’s helped. I used to think I didn’t need anybody else. But then I got subtracted out so many times by you ‘n Prisspants, well. Don’t want to admit it but dividing up the work’s helped solve the harder equations.”
Neku smiled, offering a hand. “I can leave you my number if you ever want to talk shop.”
Sho blinked twice, confused. “You’d… help me? I was an irrational digit.”
“So? I was an asshole teenager. I pass through often enough. It’s not much trouble, especially if you’re feeding me,” Neku admitted, shaking his now empty bottle. “You try keeping on weight on a college art student’s budget.”
“Yeah, all right,” Sho said, standing up, swiping Neku’s empty bottle to shove in one of his myriad pockets. “A balanced equation—I dig it. I’m using this in my next piece,” he added, tapping the bottle with a hollow thud. “Thanks… Neku.”
Before Neku had a chance to even realize it was the first time Sho called him by name, the Reaper had vanished back to the Underground, out of Neku’s reach.
Xxx
Neku stood at the mural a few minutes longer, rolling the plastic bottle cap in his fingers. If Sho was alive, well, less dead, then Joshua was still haunting Shibuya from somewhere—Hanekoma, too.
So why was the mural so worn out? Had Mr. H run out of new inspiration himself? Neku sighed, no more ready to tackle the assignment as he hoofed it back to the station, tossing the bottle-cap into the recycling as he passed.
The CC Lemon Sho had expertly pitched was mysteriously absent from the top of the pile.
“If Sho went dumpster diving to make recycled friendship bracelets, I think I’ll actually bust a rib laughing,” Neku muttered to himself.
“Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Neku whipped his head around to see a Reaper in a basic hoodie. A faceless grunt, one of at least tens, if not hundreds, patrolling the city. No visible wings, so at least Neku could remind himself he hadn’t gone sliding into the UG. Just another Reaper coming up to the RG for air. Or to pester him.
Or both.
“Do I know you?” Neku asked, eyeing the teenage-looking apparition in oversized clothing.
The boy huffed. “The Reaper Review remembers you.”
Neku laughed and relaxed a little. “At least you’re not the Reaper who made me show up in all Mus Rattus to break their barrier. Or the other one who made me get them a chili dog.”
“When you’re a minor officer, you’re allowed to send Players on wild goose chases,” the Reaper said with a shrug. “I’m just happy I was allowed to block mine with trivia. I hate fighting.”
“You and me both,” Neku grumbled.
The reaper tipped his hood back slightly, enough to show Neku his ethereal looking eyes. “I overheard you had artist’s block. Er, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. It’s the worst.”
“Great. Is my mind safe from any of you?” Neku groaned, though it wasn’t in anger. He couldn’t complain. Hearing the livings’ thoughts just happened when you were dead.
“Actually, I was guarding the mural and overheard your chat with the Lieutenant.”
“Oof. Minamimoto got a demotion?”
“He seems happier in the field, anyway,” the Reaper replied with a shrug. “More time for his sculptures and harassing players.”
Neku looked at the Reaper curiously. “Sho mentioned you all do art. Have to keep your Imagination up.”
“That’s… not entirely true. I mean yeah, gotta keep the creative juices going or we stop existing. But it doesn’t have to be through art. Cooking, dance, whatever goes. When I’m stuck, I usually learn from another Reaper. Gives me some perspective.”
Neku’s smile widened. “You’re right, you know. I need to broaden my horizons. What do you do?”
“Me? Uh… I design puzzles. The player traps and stuff.”
“Ugh,” Neku groaned.
“You paint, right? I remember seeing some of your tags under the Miyashita Park underpass a few years ago. You’re pretty good. Maybe… try heading over near Shibu-Q? The Reapers that dance usually practice that way—sidewalk is wide enough. Loosen up with some life drawing or something.”
Neku smiled. “I have to do an installation project, but you know what? That’s not a terrible idea. Thanks.” He looked to the corner where Shibu-Q stood and then back at his nameless friend, but the Reaper was already gone.
Xxx
Neku didn’t know what he was expecting to find outside Shibu-Q, but a pair of Harrier Reapers doing acrobatic dancing was not it. Neku smirked as he watched the reaper woman with electric purple lipstick—Uzuki, if he remembered correctly—pirouetting before using her friend as a vaulting block to spin up and over his back.
The two continued their routine, the man—Kariya, Neku remembered after a few embarrassed moments of mental fumbling—seeming lazy and unmoving but carefully and precisely supporting his partner’s flashy moves. The two continued for another ten minutes or so, then each held out a hat for change.
Neku patted himself down for his wallet before dumping three 500-yen coins in Uzuki’s hat as it passed around. She glared at him a moment, then pushed the coins back in his face.
“Not taking money from you,” she snipped. “I already owe you enough. Shoo.”
Kariya looked over his shoulder at Neku, momentarily confused. After all, the two of them hadn’t aged a day while Neku was now a lanky, slightly scruffy young adult. Realization crossed the Reaper’s features slowly, eventually tugging his mouth into a half grin. Kariya offered Neku a backwards half-salute and went back to waving his hat around for change.
Eventually the crowd dispersed. Kariya loped over to Neku and Uzuki, clapping Neku on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo. You’re as tall as I am now. Good on you. How’s life treating you?”
Neku couldn’t help but laugh at the double meaning behind the words. “Busy. College.”
“You know, I wondered when I would stop seeing you run around the RG so much over here.”
“Never mind me,” Neku said, sloughing off Kariya’s friendly gesture and looking at the two of them. “How are you holding up?”
“How do you think?” Uzuki spat. “There weren’t many powerful Reapers left after that mess—at least for a while. So, some ass went and got themselves promoted to Conductor.”
Kariya looked down at his feet, blush going all the way across his face. “It’s not like I asked for it; I wasn’t given a choice. At least I negotiated that I could do things my way. Uzuki’s my GM.”
Neku frowned. “So… then you know the Composer.”
Kariya’s eyes went uncharacteristically fierce. “That’s on a need to know basis and—”
“Read my mind then,” Neku countered. “There’s something I do need to know.”
Neku closed his eyes and thought of Joshua. What he really wanted was to talk to Mr. Hanekoma, but the only way he was going to be able to do that would be going to Joshua first.
Kariya whistled low. “Okay. Fine. Kid, come here a sec.”
“Kariya, come on. Why are you even telling this kid anything? He’s alive. And—”
“He knows about Josh, Uzuki, I’m not giving him anything new. Just… maybe pointing him in the right direction.”
Uzuki pushed a loose strand of burgundy hair from her eyes. “Fiiiiine, whatever. You’re the boss.”
“You’ve seen him?” Neku asked quietly.
“’Course I have. He’s my boss,” Kariya said with a sigh. “Though he only comes to speak if he feels like it. I’ve caught him sulking over past the Miyashita Park underpass though. No clue why. Out there is just a bunch of sporting goods stores and Josh and physical activity mix like oil and vinegar. Hope that helps. What do you need him for, anyway? You’re alive.”
“It’s not him I’m even looking for,” Neku admitted. “I want him to tell me what happened to an old friend.”
Kariya relaxed a bit. “If said old friend has anything to do with the UG, might as well ask me.”
“I’m looking for CAT.”
Kariya frowned, scratching the back of his head in contemplation. “CAT was a Reaper? He— or she, I guess— stopped doing anything new after I became Conductor. Yeah. You’d have to speak to Josh. That’s before my time and below my pay grade.”
“Thanks anyway, Kariya,” Neku said, genuinely appreciative. “It’s better than nothing.”
“Anytime. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Neku closed his eyes a moment, sighing quietly. “Hope so too,” he muttered, opening them to an empty sidewalk.
Xxx
Neku headed eastbound towards Cat Street, passing Stride on the left. Gone were the Tin Pin banners, long since replaced with whatever new plastic toy battling fad that had taken hold of the local kids.
“You know, I heard a commotion from some of the older guard that a carrot was running around Udagawa.”
Neku had whiplash. Poised behind him with a cigarette loosely held in between his middle and ring finger was a face Neku couldn’t believe he was seeing.
“Seven?” Neku asked incredulously. He reached out his hand for the bleach-blonde, swaggering musician’s to find it cold as ice. Neku frowned. “Smoking kills, you know.”
777 played with the cigarette between his fingers. “How d’you think I died?” He gave a cocky grin. “Actually, I fell off a roof rigging an abandoned warehouse party. This is why you do safety checks. Tenho still gives me grief about it.”
Neku smiled weakly. “That bites.”
“The dust? Oof. Yeah. But hey, all three of us went down at once. The party scattered and when we showed up to play a new set a few weeks later nobody realized we weren’t exactly alive. They probably thought we broke a bone or two at worst and hid to lick our wounds—not cracked our skulls on the sidewalk.” Neku winced. “Er, sorry, Orange. Didn’t mean to dredge up anything bad on your end. Just odd, seeing you back.”
“Looking for someone,” Neku admitted. “The owner of the café that used to be on Cat Street.”
“Hanekoma? Stopped in there for coffee sometimes. Bit odd. His shop didn’t have the Player decal, yet he definitely served stiffs. Reapers as customers is one thing—we can go to the RG—but… hell. What do I know?”
Neku flocked his eyes up and down the street. Not that it mattered; Reapers could be in the UG right next to him and he wouldn’t know. “Yeah, he could see the dead.”
“ESPer or something?” Seven asked, blowing out a smoke ring that looked like a bat. Now he was just showing off.
“Something like that.”
“Well, fat lot that did him. Shop’s been MIA ever since I got recommissioned—maybe earlier. All I remember is, I had a double shot espresso there the night before that gig you helped me with, got blown up like two weeks later, and when I’m back to my good old dead self, the shop looks like it got exploded too. What the hell went on in this city that week?”
“War,” Neku said grimly.
“And you won, didn’t you?” Seven elbowed him in the shoulder. “You’d be one of my types now if you hadn’t.”
“Yeah, I did,” Neku said, throat dry. “Thanks for the chat.”
“You come to our next gig, you hear? You’ve gotta be old enough to drink now. VIP for you ‘n the cute chick you were with. Or, uh, anyone else. Don’t know if asking her would be awkward. She made it out, didn’t she? Please say yes.”
Neku smiled. “She did, and we’re still friends. I’ll ask. She won’t look like how you’re expecting though.”
“Neither do you, not-so-short stack. Now get outta here. I’m gonna finish my drag and get back to setup before Beej screams me out. Later.” Seven snapped his fingers and the cigarette exploded in a puff of blue fiery smoke. “Open invite, Orange, just tell the bouncer ‘golden bat’ at the door.”
Xxx
Neku inhaled. He knew past here was Cadoi, then Miyashita.
Then Cat Street.
Neku passed a small spot under the park underpass where Beat and Rhyme’s flowers had once been placed, leaving behind a tiny finger skateboard. Beat would probably punch him; Rhyme would find it hilarious. He did it to honor his once dead friend. Some kid would probably see it, and abscond with it, and play with it till it broke. Beat’s skateboard, in the hands of some kid passing by—it was fitting.
Neku let his memory walk him the rest of the way to WildKat. It stood as it had since the incident: a broken front window, a door barely hanging on its hinges. How it remained like this almost half a decade without developer intervention was shocking, honestly. Or maybe not, if divine intervention was involved.
Neku inhaled and took a step forward.
Again.
Again.
He carefully swung the door, afraid the whole thing would come off the frame in his hands. It squeaked something awful but hung by a thread.
The inside was worse. Neku should have brought one of his paint masks with him. The place was a fire trap of chipped plaster, dust, and mold. An old safe in the back corner was open on its hinges. The only things that looked clean were the sink, two sealed jars of whole coffee beans, and a single drip carafe, the rest of the row shattered beyond recognition.
Neku’s sketchbook and a mechanical pencil set still sat atop the dust-crusted counter. He’d left them there when he and Beat had returned— the only time Neku stepped foot in the shop when he was alive—to check on the shop.
To check on its owner.
Leaving the sketchbook behind seemed fitting. It was half full of random crap, and half empty, nothing but open promises in the end.
Maybe Neku didn’t need Hanekoma, or CAT, or the old shop. Carefully, he made his way around a splintered bar stool, sidestepped a broken glass pitcher, and hauled himself up on the only stool left in sittable condition.
Reverently, he opened the book. He almost laughed at his fifteen-year-old self’s sketches. The first three pages were ideas for tags around the city. He actually cringed at one.
Then a page of Shiki—a quick sketch, half likely from stolen glances and half from memory, because it was her as herself on the left, and as Eri on the right.
Ideas for Beat’s skateboards.
Architecture sketches
An entire six pages of circles and cubes, shaded with hatching or a blending stump.
Neku turned to the next page.
In handwriting that wasn’t his, scrawled in large block print…
TURN AROUND, DEAR.
Xxx
Neku screamed. It wasn’t one of fear, but frustration. “You slimy, little—” he shrieked, as he spun around in the stool expecting to see a smarmy, fifteen-year-old-looking blonde, if the agelessness of the other UG residents was anything to go by.
Instead, a softly frowning man in his mid-thirties stood behind him.
With blonde fly-away hair.
And strange purple eyes.
And a blue-purple button down with white accents and charcoal slacks.
Neku bit his lower lip, holding back a fury he hadn’t had in years.
“You.”
“I come in peace,” Joshua offered, hands up defensively, glowing slightly. “I wrote that years ago. Now I kind of regret it.” Neku relaxed a little. Joshua would be dramatic enough to do that and scare him when he entered the shop, wouldn’t he?
“Only kind of, though,” Joshua added, pulling a broken chair from the rubble, fixing it with a shake and sitting down beside Neku. “It’s still Imprinted. I’m not in the RG. The note left a bit of me in it. You see it, you see me, too.”
“You been tailing me all day, too?”
“I felt you in the city, but no. Only when I got a text about it.”
Kariya. Of course.
“Your conductor rat me out?”
“He did say you were looking for me. So, might have imprinted on you a bit to push you here.”
“You could have come and—”
“—said hello? No, actually, I can’t. I’m on probation. Can’t enter the RG for a decade. Not the biggest deal for me, mind, but… humans don’t live near as long as things like I do. I needed you to come to me. Glad that thing still works.” He tapped the notebook, his hand clipping through a page or two like he wasn’t all there.
Neku exhaled. “I trust you, you know. Still don’t forgive you, but I do trust you.”
“I know. I appreciate you said it aloud, but I know.”
“You look better when your clothes actually fit.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve gotten better at keeping up with me,” Joshua said with a bit of a grin.
“You’ve slowed down in your age, you old fart.”
“Old? Fart?” Joshua pouted, and where there had been a well-put-together adult sat a petulant teenager in the same attire, now oversized to the point of baggy. He looked as the Reapers did—unaged.
“At least now you fit in with the rest of your underlings,” Neku huffed.
Joshua frowned. “I wish I did, honestly.” Quietly, he stared off, past Neku to the empty kitchen.
“Miss him too?”
“More than you,” Joshua shot back.
“Didn’t have many friends?”
“Comes with the job.”
Neku rolled a pencil between his fingers. He’d caught the proverbial tail and didn’t know what to do with it. Joshua was here and clearly knew just as much as Neku did about his former idol’s whereabouts. They sat in silence as Joshua’s likely million-yen watch ticked away.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Neku replied flatly.
“You’re no fun, Neku,” Joshua needled. “Fine. Look, Sanae liked you, more than just the fact that you were my Proxy. Hell, I’m surprised he helped you at all, knowing what you represented in my Game. You were the bad guy.”
Joshua slunk in the only-until-recently broken bar seat, kicking at a shattered tile with an awfully expensive sneaker. When he couldn’t quite reach, his form shifted back to that of an adult, flinging the chipped tile aside like a petulant child. “Neku, I need you.”
“Like you needed me to destroy Shibuya.”
Joshua exhaled, wisps of golden hair fluttering as he stared at anything but Neku. “I’ve been trying to find Hanekoma for years. Every moment I’m not here keeping the city together, I’m traveling to find him. You wouldn’t understand, but I need you to get a lock on him.”
“You’re dimension hopping.”
Joshua sat straight up, his too-long legs hitting the café bar as he did so. “Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing at his knee. “Too tall for my own good. But how? How could you even know that?”
Neku pointed to the safe at the back corner of the café, still just as ajar as he left it when he found the key pin with Beat back in the game. “Mr. H. left me a book of notes: on the game, on angels, all of it.” Neku scrolled through his phone. “I used to keep it on me, thinking it would help me somehow, someday. Eventually, I just scanned it all.”
“Gimme,” Joshua demanded, and the phone was in his hands. Neku watched in awe at the Composer’s speed reading. “I know he kept notes for the Angels, but this wasn’t for them—it was for you. Where’s the real deal?”
“My apartment.”
“Address. Specific location. I’m talking ‘fourth floor, third bedroom, under the red futon next to my stack of- ‘”
Neku cut him off quickly, rattling off his exact address and where he hid the book. Joshua held out a free hand, and in a moment, it materialized with the softest of thunks, pages fluttering in Joshua’s fingertips. “Be glad I’m on good terms with the Composer of Taito Ward,” Joshua admonished, pointing with the small hand-bound journal. “Otherwise I would have sent you home to go get it yourself.”
“What, are you going to track down Hanekoma with this?”
“No, of course not,” Joshua snorted, standing upright, shaking himself once to completely dissipate any plaster shavings or broken chips from his clothing.
“You are.”
Xxx
Neku watched in awe as Joshua’s back bloomed with light, a pair of massive swan-like silver-white wings settling on his back, iridescent with hints of lavender as he shook them loose. Before Neku could think, Hanekoma’s journal was thrust into his hands, and Joshua had him in a position he’d later call The Little Spoon of Death. With a jerk backwards, the two fell through and landed precisely where they’d been before, except the shop was in clean, working order, jazz playing on the radio, and a familiar voice humming tunelessly along with the guitar.
“Heya, Josh. Back so soon?”
Neku blinked and almost cried when he saw the man behind the counter. “H-Hanekoma?!? Mr. H?”
“One of,” Hanekoma said with a shrug. “Not the one you’re looking for though.”
Neku tried to surge forward to give the man (angel?) a hug but was held firmly in place by Joshua’s murderous grip around his waist. “Let go,” Neku whined through gritted teeth.
“Not a good idea, Boss,” Hanekoma chided. “You don’t want to get stuck in the wrong place.”
Neku let himself slacken. “I can get stuck?”
“Sure as the rain ruining my day,” Hanekoma agreed. “When you’re in the right place, you’ll know.”
“Can you help?”
“Can I? Sure. Will I? No. He’s a hellion. You’re never going to find him anyway.”
“Isn’t he another you?”
“You wouldn’t say the same thing if you met you from this world,” Joshua said, exasperated. “I wonder why the book sent us here.”
“This is where you hid after Minamimoto tried to erase you, isn’t it?” Neku asked. He flipped through the journal. “He hid somewhere high to wait for you. Because he thought this Hanekoma would turn him into the Angel Police or something.”
“I did,” Hanekoma said proudly. “Can’t have me ruining my good name.”
“Fuck off,” Neku spat at the barista. “You’re not Hanekoma.”
“I’m the part of Hanekoma that actually follows our rules.”
Joshua squeezed Neku tighter. “Hold on and keep thinking of that.”
“What—whyyyyyyyyyy?!” Neku screamed as sound escaped him. The whole universe lurched underneath as Joshua resumed pinging around between alternate realities, barely stopping to breathe.
“Focus!” Joshua ordered him through the din of dizzying WildKat cafes, Shibuya skylines, and for a brief moment, possibly the cold depths of space.
“THERE IS NOTHING TO FOCUS ON YOU DAFT ZOMBIE!” Neku shouted back, feeling his insides out and outsides in before the two bounced off a massive plate of glass and went rolling out to nowhere. Joshua pulled his wings around them, breaking the fall as they bounced a few times to the sounds of shattering glass.
They stilled. Neku could hear his own breathing and feel his heart jumping in his chest. Disquietingly, Joshua had neither breath nor a heartbeat, his torso flat against Neku’s back without any noticeable sign of life. Neku quietly filed that part under “disgusting, do not remind” and wiggled a little to loosen Joshua’s grip on his midsection.
“Hang on,” Joshua hissed out. “Easy does it.”
“That was easy?”
“You should see hard,” Joshua said, smirking as he raised an eyebrow. “And it might surprise you but… I think we’re here.”
Joshua rocked on the shoulders of his wings, pushing them both upright and parting a crack for them to see from.
The world consisted of a single, stained-glass building in a shattered-glass sky. The ground crunched with hardened paint beneath them.
“Somewhere high, following the rules… and nothing to focus on. Neku, sometimes, only sometimes, am I reminded of your genius.”
“I am in elbow-to-face range,” Neku reminded him.
“Yes, dear, and you’d best stay that way unless you want to swallow glass,” Joshua pointed out. “I’m too concerned about flying through that with a passenger, let alone someone alive, so we’re going to walk in tandem to the entrance and pray there’s no tricks along the way.”
Neku wanted to argue he wasn’t much for prayer but being cocooned in angel wings wasn’t doing him any favors in that department.
“Well at least I’m getting the inspiration I was looking for,” Neku muttered as he marveled through the tiniest of openings in between Joshua’s feathers. They both shuddered as pellets of colored glass dogged them like rain, Neku grimacing with each step.
“I think that is this world’s rain,” Joshua said aloud. “What? You’re thinking too loud. Either shut up or I’ll nitpick your thoughts. Last you want to do is swallow glass talking out loud, anyway.”
They walked in silence for what felt like eternity, roughly matching steps so their wing-cocoon tank didn’t topple. Peppered by the shards of rain, Neku was slowly getting a better view of the world outside his feathered umbrella.
Tumblr media
The tower reminded him of Pork City, though it stretched upwards through molten clouds that burned red hot like liquid glass being worked at a forge. The whole thing was stained glass of infinite color—giant, angular panes crossed and reinforced by black, wrought iron-like supports, with sharp points sticking out at odd angles from the structure. 
“I think so too,” Joshua agreed with Neku’s wandering thoughts. “That’s Pork City, all right—made from Reaper wings. It looks like a gorgeous prison. A prison all the same, though,” he added, sighing.
Soon enough, the entrance loomed overhead, its maw of black webbing haphazardly stuffed with angular pastel glass. The tinkle of the rain bounced off the overhang as Joshua ever-so-slowly folded his wings behind him.
“I think you’re safe, for now,” he said, with the authoritativeness betraying his true age. “I promise, I’m not going to let you die here—you’re still holding Sanae’s book.”
“Because that’s all you care about,” Neku grumbled, to Joshua’s pout. “Oh, come off. I’m going to make up for all the teasing you did to me. Now let’s hope there’s an elevator in there or you’ll be flying us up the stairs.”
Xxx
“Lights are on; nobody’s home,” Joshua said, looking around as the two shuffled inside. “Okay, I’m letting go.”
“You’re what!” Neku shrieked, breathing heavy as Joshua smirked, unhooking his hands from around Neku’s waist. “Didn’t that other Hanekoma say it was a bad idea?”
“Oh, it’s a cataclysmically terrible idea. You’ll be trapped here forever now.”
“Joshua–I—you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
“I mean, of course. I’m an ass, but nobody’s that heartless.”
“You murdered me. Twice.”
“I also brought you back to life, so no complaints,” Joshua snipped back. “Now, what have we here?”
Neku sighed, reminded of exactly how aggravating the little god could be. He looked around the entry foyer. The walls inside the building were a blinding white, almost piercing in their contrast to the stained glass on the outer walls of the monstrous tower. “I think this thing is alive,” Neku muttered.
“It’s not,” Joshua said, almost too quickly. “Or, rather, it’s as alive as Sanae or I am.”
“So it’s, what, an angel?”
Joshua kneeled down to touch the floor, a soft white abalone with a pearlescent sheen. “Yes. And we just entered the mouth.” Neku shuddered. “Oh, it’s not really that big a deal, Neku,” Joshua said, standing up and tsk-ing him with a finger. “This building is no more going to digest you than a wooden one; though I’m sure you’ve seen trees grow around and consume cars and houses.”
“Not helping,” Neku grumbled. “Hey, I’m not sure if it’s the retina damage, but are the walls bleeding paint?”
Joshua tucked his massive wings up high on his back, where they still trailed behind him like a couture dress, and shimmy-hopped over to the interior wall. “Oh, it’s probably retina damage,” he said cheerily, “you’re looking at pure light after all. But you’re not wrong.” Joshua swiped his hand along the wall, coming off it with a smear of mustard yellow acrylic paint. He blew on it, drying it immediately, and peeled it off like a face mask. “Must be the elevator hidden in the wall and… here we go.”
With a squelching sound like wrenching a tooth out of its socket—Neku wondering with a shudder that if that actually was a tooth—Joshua dislodged the panel, revealing a plush, red-velvet-lined elevator speckled with flecks of paint.
“If that’s a tongue, I’m out of here,” Neku complained.
“It’s not a tongue,” Josh said with a suspicious grin, stuffing himself inside with his wings still exposed. Neku shuffled and squeezed in, a massive feather poking him in the backside. The doors closed. “It’s the esophagus, Neku.”
Xxx
“Can’t you put those away?” Neku asked, after what felt like an eternity of being smothered by a giant chicken.
Joshua sighed, looking more serious than Neku was ever used to. “Yes, but I won’t.”
Neku expected him to elaborate, but Joshua merely went silent, hands out and open and feathers fluffed up.
Quickly, Neku understood why. It started quietly, a ping and a plop and a hiss, and became louder and more intense with each passing second. A few moments later, Neku was positive he wasn’t hearing things; it sounded like rain pouring from a gutter except… the rain was a stream of fire-engine red and the gutter was the walls of the elevator. The liquid pooled in the velvet flooring like blood matting the fur on a wounded, furry animal.
“Neku, move in before I make you.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as Joshua threw his wings up around them again, reaching a hand out of the fluffy shield to pull the emergency stop on the elevator panel. Neku didn’t even realize how fast they’d been ascending until they screeched to a halt.
“The walls are bleeding.”
“Paint,” Joshua replied. “It’s just paint.”
“You also said the building was an angel,” Neku reminded him testily. “What’s to say that this isn’t—”
“Angel blood melts like acid,” Joshua replied flatly. Neku didn’t know if he were telling the truth or not, but the soles of his shoes, now caked in it, weren’t dissolving.
Joshua pulled him close, wrapping his left arm around his shoulders and left wing over that like a shield. Neku couldn’t see anything but white, but he felt a jolt of exertion and heard Joshua swear low.
“Neku, dear, stay close and don’t scream.”
In the time it took him to blink, the Joshua that Neku was familiar with vanished. Every pore of the elevator was leaking paint in gushes now; thankfully blues and greens and hot pinks, to put Neku slightly more at ease, balanced evenly with the remainder of the free space taken up by living, swirling paint.
Noise.
One giant one.
It was silent and snake-like, and it dug its claws into the elevator door, wrenching it open without a sound save the rushing air.
The elevator had stopped between two floors, and the Noise slipped out the bottom to slide down to the floor below.
Move, it demanded of him. Drowning in paint doesn’t belong in your obituary.
Neku more or less knew the beast had been Joshua, but the voice in his head finally cemented it.
“I’ll break my legs.”
“I’ll catch you.”
Neku didn’t even register the response said aloud, slipping down the paint-soaked velvet and landing in a nest of color-streaked feathers.
“See?”
“I’m drenched,” Neku grumped, and then realized he wasn’t. His and Joshua’s clothes were pristine again, though the wild streaks of paint still covered Neku’s arms and Joshua’s feathers.
“Not getting rid of it all. I don’t know if the building is trying to attack us and I’d rather we still smell like it.”
“You think?” Neku asked sarcastically. He looked around the room. Paint had pooled in oil-slick puddles on the floor and was leaking out cracks in the walls. Neku heard dripping from overhead, looking up to see globs of color slowly plopping from the ceiling. The acrylic paint’s own drying-to-plastic properties were likely the only thing preventing a flood of multicolored rain on them.
Carefully, Neku hot-footed around the deepest puddles and made his way to the stained glass on the perimeter.
“We are really high up,” he breathed out, looking at the world below.
Joshua fluttered, and landed gracefully next to him. “We are. Care not to break the glass.”
“I’m not that—”
“—without me,” Joshua continued, barreling for the window, grabbing Neku as he shattered an entire pane.
For a moment, time stood still, not that it mattered much in this place to begin with. The triangular pastel shards exploded out with them on the side of the building and Neku swore he heard it scream. The shards from the broken window floated around them, glittering against the glass rain pelting them from above. Joshua pulled Neku in tighter, wings curled.
“Duck.” That was Neku’s only warning as Joshua opened his wings to propel them up against the pellets of crystalline rain before hurling himself sideways, crashing into another exterior wall.
“Human bodies are too frail,” Joshua tsk’ed at him once they finished rolling in a 20 centimeters deep pool of paint. With a hand wave, Neku found himself as clean as he could be, and free of scratches.
Paint sluiced down from their entry hole, likely streaking the outside of the building as the room began to drain. Neku shook the stars from his eyes as Joshua flicked his fingers across his button-down shirt, sending the liquid colors away as he did so.
His wings were still streaked with neon.
The room had no stairs, no elevator shaft, from what Neku could see. It was just glass around the outside and a concrete floor and ceiling. Scattered about the room were pillars and flat concrete pieces, some wall-to-ceiling, but most about half height—like an art gallery.
The entire room, save the glass, was completely covered in art.
Graffiti.
Classical.
Renaissance.
Ukiyo-e
Cubist.
It was one step short of being an eyesore. And as the paint drained out, pouring down the exterior side of the building, Neku could see the floor, too, covered with incredible works of art. He felt almost embarrassed when he moved his foot, leaving behind a hot-pink footprint on impressionist lilies.
“They’re just copies,” Joshua said sternly, looking around. “Technically precise, but nothing original except in how it’s all mashed together.”
Neku nodded. “I just stepped in Monet.”
“Well, a good copy. Poor Sanae. Stay on your guard, Neku; he’s up here somewhere. And he’s probably not going to look like what you’re used to.”
“Like how you were a dragon?” Neku asked.
“His street art handle isn’t CAT for nothing.”
“I’m assuming it’s not a housecat, then,” Neku hissed back, suddenly concerned. Both of them winced on hearing a howl.
Quiet, Joshua ordered inside his head. And stay behind me.
Neku nodded and the two wove their way through the gallery, following the sound of growls and irritated hisses. Joshua slowly peeled around a corner, motioning for Neku to follow.
A great graffiti-winged panther that Neku could only assume was Mr. Hanekoma glared back through acid-paint eyes.
Xxx
Joshua shoved Neku roughly aside, striding confidently to the massive graffiti beast.
“Hello, old friend,” Joshua said, tired and aged himself.
The creature screamed. The concrete half-wall Neku had been cowering behind exploded into fragments of color and shrapnel.
The beast froze, sniffed. It took one step, then another, leaning its gargantuan head over the broken divider to look down at Neku.
Neku had never been terrified before. Even in the Game, he’d had periods when he was scared, adrenaline coursing through him like the drug it was. But this abject fear to witness a man he trusted—who he might even consider a friend—be reduced to a mindless abomination drooling tempera paint overhead was sobering.
The beast opened its maw wide. Joshua jumped to his side in a flash, throwing up a wing to protect him.
Hanekoma tilted his head a little, reminiscent of a puppy. “Ne….ku?”
Xxx
Neku and Joshua watched over the next…however long it took. Hanekoma paced, occasionally knocking over a bucket of paint or, in one case, slamming into one of the concrete half-wall dividers with his flank as his graffiti form jittered and convulsed.
He’s coming back around, Joshua hissed in Neku’s head. At this point, we just need to wait.
Neku nodded. Joshua still held a wing up and an iron grip on the other’s arm and waist, but it was with good reason. Hanekoma screamed again, rupturing the concrete and Neku’s eardrums. For a few moments, Neku saw nothing but static, before the searing pain faded.
“—Sanae, Sanae, come back to us,” Joshua pleaded in croaking whispers as Neku’s hearing returned. “Please. Your attacks are only hurting him, see? I just had to completely repair his eardrums.”
The cat-beast howled again, knocking Neku utterly unconscious this time.
Xxx
Neku came to on the floor of the gallery, slowly taking stock of the room around him through hazy peripheral vision. Most of the dividers were at least punched through, if not entirely destroyed. A cold hand covered most of his forward vision, however.
“Neku, can you hear me?” Hanekoma’s gruff voice was twanged with concern.
“He should; I fixed his eardrums twice in one eternity,” Joshua grumped.
“Mister….H?” Neku croaked.
“J, make him some water.”
Slowly, a sturdy arm pulled Neku to sitting, leaning his body back into something warm, but lacking breath and a pulse. It was too broad to be Joshua, confirmed when the other hand slipped away to take an offered bowl of water.
Hanekoma was in human form again. Human-ish, at least.
“Drink, kiddo.”
“I’m twenty,” Neku protested before coughing up a little blood, realizing that was the first full sentence out of his mouth to the former barista.
“Hey, all humans are kids to me,” Hanekoma laughed. “J, he needs his throat patched up too.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joshua whined, leaning forward to place three fingers against Neku’s neck. Immediately, Neku felt a wave of calm wash over, and his throat felt clear. “Now drink, before I whip you up an IV. I can patch you up, but I’m not magically refilling you with lost fluids. I don’t have the brainspace right now for that.”
Neku slowly downed the water, leaning heavily into Hanekoma. “I don’t have the brainspace to brain for at least a week.”
“I don’t think any of us do,” Hanekoma added. “I’m not even sure how I’m back to any kind of sanity as it is.”
Joshua rolled his eyes and refilled the water bowl with a gesture. “Enough of you was sane enough to be worried.”
“You brought a living human as bait, J! Of course I was worried.”
“It worked.”
“That doesn’t make it—” Hanekoma hissed, squeezing Neku’s shoulders a little too hard.
“I missed you,” Neku cut in. “It looked like all of Shibuya did, even though they never knew who you were.”
“Of course they knew,” Hanekoma said gently. “I was the local barista, ready with a good cup ‘o joe. I was the artist that painted the town red.”
“All the Reapers I spoke to had nothing but praise for you,” Neku continued. “I ran all over the city today finding that out.”
Neku felt the single loud thump of a heartbeat from the ethereal body keeping him upright. “Really now?”
“None of them knew you had a connection to the game either,” Neku continued, getting a second wind. “They just praised CAT’s art and WildKat’s coffee.”
“Hmph.”
“Won’t you come back, Sanae?” Joshua asked, a pleading smile on his lips. “It’s been too long.”
“I wish I could, J.”
“What do you mean you wish? You’re an Angel, for Someone’s sake!”
“Er, about that,” Hanekoma said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m… well. I’m not not an angel, I guess. But this is my punishment.”
“You’re definitely under supervision,” Joshua said testily. “Your warden was more annoying than anything else.”
“I take offense to that,” Hanekoma’s voice reverberated through all three of them.
Joshua nearly growled. “You know, you could have skipped the theatrics. If you wanted us gone, you could have Erased us, or just booted us out.”
Neku blinked the last of the daze away. “Hold on. I’m missing something here.”
“Remember how we passed a million billion WildKats and Sanaes and Shibuyas trying to find this place?” Joshua grumbled. “And how Sanae knew what we were doing? Angels have a singular hive mind. Mostly. I’m not actually an Angel, mind you—sort of just a hatchling, an infant. But he’s a real-deal Higher Plane beastie.”
Neku frowned, putting up a finger, lost in thought. Hanekoma went to speak, only for Joshua to shush him.
“Neku’s smart enough to put the pieces together. Give him a moment.”
“I gave him at least a concussion, if not brain damage, J.”
“Which I fixed.”
“The building.” Neku’s face sharpened into a frown.
Joshua and Hanekoma turned their heads to Neku, now sitting upright unassisted as he bopped his finger to his own internal music, slotting what he knew in place. “You said the building was an angel. This building, this whole thing, is this dimension’s Mr. H. All of the other yous are mad at you, aren’t they?”
Hanekoma nodded, exhaling a sigh. “I’m… sort of still an angel. But they cut me off from the Hive and took my inspiration. I can’t leave until I have them back.”
“I’m going to have a word with Management.” Joshua hoisted himself off the shrapnel-pocked floor, stomping a foot. “Elevator, if you please.”
“J, you’re crazy.”
“Aware. So?”
The three heard a ding as a concrete cube rose from the floor, the elevator with it. It opened with a smooth motion, the door already fixed but the interior still caked in paint.
“Am I the hostage negotiator, or can all of us go?” Joshua asked the elevator, irritated, arms crossed and wing-feathers fluffed in annoyance. In response, the elevator ballooned sideways, expanding the interior to accommodate three adults and one massive pair of wings.
“All right,” Joshua sighed out. “Everybody in.”
Xxx
The elevator hummed pleasantly and dinged, opening back up to the pearly-white entryway. The large front doors—triangular shards of crisscrossing stained glass—were blocked off by an aggressive black chain and padlock. A gleaming solid front desk sat at the entryway with a bored Hanekoma flipping lazily through a completely blank magazine. He shot them a grin; Neku noticed he was missing a tooth.
“Ah, hello. Thanks for giving me one heck of a sore throat, J.”
“Can it. I’m busting him out,” Joshua snapped, straight to the point.
Hanekoma put down the magazine, all high-gloss and solid-white pages. “Oh? How?”
Joshua pointed at the door, the chain and lock melting like acid under his gaze. “The front door, how else? Unless you want a few more teeth popped out.”
“That isn’t what I meant, J,” Hanekoma-behind-the-counter said simply. “Your me isn’t an angel right now. You take him out of here and he’s a mortal. I give him a few decades, tops. Stay and he’ll pay his price eventually; won’t you, you sorry excuse for a me?”
Joshua’s Sanae wrung his hands. “I’ll head back up. I did say you didn’t need to come for me, J.”
“If you leave before your sentence is up… you’re mortal?” Joshua asked, his voice cracking a little.
“Yeah, sorry Boss. I’ll take the long way ‘round.”
Neku frowned, scratching at some dried paint on his cheek. “Hang on. What is his sentence exactly? Josh, you said yours was being banned from the RG, but nothing stopped you from letting me see the UG.”
Joshua broke out into a nasty grin. “Ohhhhhhhh Neku, dear. I need to have you get brain damage more often.”
“No,” Neku interjected flatly.
“Aw, it was only a temporary inconvenience. Anyway, Sanae—either of you—what is his exact punishment from the Higher Plane? I want the full contract.”
The glass world’s Sanae slid him the blank magazine. “They were pretty thorough.”
Xxx
When Neku turned his back on the front desk, a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table, all in different shades of blinding alabaster, existed under the overhang just to the side of the entryway. The tinkle of stained-glass-shard rain peppered the overhang roof and a rainbow of garish light streaked in between the storm clouds outside. Joshua lifted his wings, draped them over the back of the sofa, and got to reading.
The only sounds were the tinkling of the rain, Joshua’s ever-ticking watch, and the occasional turn of a page.
Neku tapped his fingers on his jeans. “Can I do anything?”
“No,” muttered Joshua, half in thought flipping through the plain pages.
“Haven’t you done enough?” asked the bored warden, slouching at his desk.
“I could… clean the elevator,” Neku offered, trying to figure out something to do. He was definitely caught in some sort of celestial war, played out in miniature. Everything was over his head right now as he looked sideways to the glass-world Hanekoma. He looked the same as all the others—rolled-up button down, slacks, waistcoat, watch, sandals, sunglasses, messy hair—though he did seem a bit more… shiny, like light was reflecting off of him. Neku didn’t want to consider what it meant for him to both be standing at the front counter as well as being the entire building.
“You’d do that?” the glass angel questioned, confused.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m just standing here. And it’s partially my fault that happened. More so if it’s hurting you.”
“Angels aren’t people, Neku,” he replied, handing him a bucket of soapy water from nowhere. “We don’t feel pain.”
“You’re clearly in pain,” Neku shot back in a whisper after Joshua rustled the magazine loudly, clearing his throat in a way reminding Neku to not disturb him. “Let me help.”
“Help, huh?” The glass Hanekoma smiled, the missing tooth returning to its space after a moment of static. “That’s a new thought.”
“Nobody’s ever helped you before?” Neku asked, concerned, as the elevator dinged and opened. He walked to it, both Sanaes following. One handed the other another bucket, then made one for himself. The three went inside and Neku took to the floor, carefully washing down the carpeting. The door slid closed and the three worked in silence.
“Not me, no,” the glass one admitted. “Not most of us. Angels don’t interact with your kind, or they really aren’t supposed to. I think some of us are jealous of the us from your world.” Another beat of silence. “I know I am.”
“Then why don’t you leave?” Neku asked.
“The other mes would make me a traitor, same as that one.” He jabbed his thumb at his duplicate. “In all honesty, I think it’s better than wasting away with only our own thoughts for company. All of us know it too—only that one said the quiet part out loud. There’s a small and finite number of angels, but an infinite number of each of us. One broken hive is a massive blow to the higher plane—kind of contradictory when you realize we run on Imagination. Think about it for five seconds and—”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Neku cut in, satisfied with the state of the floor, moving on to an aggressive teal spot on the wall. “If you run on Imagination but you’re made up as a ton of fragments that all have to think alike, any dissent and your own self turns on you. Seems a bit counterintuitive to have it that way.”
“The only possible outcome is to break apart from within,” Hanekoma agreed, but Neku wasn’t sure which one of them said it. Inside the elevator, the glass one didn’t have the odd shine he’d had in the foyer. At this point, he wasn’t sure it mattered.
Xxx
Neku and both Hanekoma exited the elevator, Joshua still pouring over the magazine. “They really did try and close every possible loophole,” he muttered. “I can’t see a way out… shy of killing you,” he added, looking up at the two angels. “And now I can’t even tell you apart.”
One of them smiled. “Neku just opened one up for you.”
“Oh?”
“Clause 16b.2.”
“Yes, ‘should the warden be unfit for service, Hanekoma is to serve the remainder of the sentence under a new warden.’ I was going to kill you and claim myself warden.”
“There’s no way the Higher Power would allow that. He’d just be transferred,” the other one said. Joshua raised an eyebrow to the first one—his Hanekoma. He slid his eyes between the two of them and the glass one scratched the back of his neck.
“Sit. I’ll get us something to drink.”
Neku shrugged and practically threw himself into one of the chairs, sighing as he sank into it. It was soft and warm and the light pinging of the rain overhead was lulling him to sleep.
“Stay awake,” Hanekoma ordered, pinching his elbow. “You started going see-through when you passed out last time—it’s what jolted me to consciousness. You aren’t coming all this way just for me to see you fade to nothing, Neku.”
Neku jolted upright, just as a steaming cup of coffee was placed in his hands. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” the glass Hanekoma said, determined. A third settee appeared between the other two; their captor-slash-host sat in it, placing a tray of coffee, tea, and snacks on the table between them. “And anyway, I’m unfit to be Hanekoma’s warden now. The Higher Plane may come for me soon. Though, soon here could be eons off. I know my time doesn’t run at the same pace as most of the other dimensions; that’s why I was picked to watch him. Joshua, they would never accept you under probation, but… Neku—you seem to be a favorite of upper management. Transferring to you shouldn’t be a problem. Hand him the contract, J.”
Neku blinked a bit of the daze from his eyes, downing the beverage. It felt like more than mere coffee, a solid glass of liquid courage, emboldening him.
Joshua hesitated, but passed the blank, glossy magazine sideways to Neku. He then stared down at the tray of offered snacks and carefully picked out a chessboard cookie, frowning at it, before biting the head off the knight’s horse.
Words swirled on the paper in Neku’s peripheral vision before he could see them straight off. “Can I get a translation?” he asked meekly, looking at the mess of block print before him.
“Did I not write it in Japanese?” Glass-Hanekoma asked.
“That’s not what I meant,” Neku sulked. “I can’t read lawyer.”
Joshua craned his neck sideways. “It’s a transferal of ownership contract. Standard language, except… hm. Neku, would you want to be an angel?”
Neku scrunched up his face. “Seeing what you deal with? No. I have enough trouble with artist’s block as it is. I’d rather it not be fatal.”
“Take out paragraphs eight and twenty, then.”
“Wait, this would have…”
“Made you one of us, yeah,” Joshua cut Neku off. “It does mean that if Hanekoma didn’t finish his sentence before you died, he would be mortal; so some sort of transferal clause needs to be added.”
Hanekoma snatched up the magazine, flicking it. “Consider it done. Sign and get out of here before I’m taken away too.” He grinned slyly. “Maybe I can keep the domino chain going. Wouldn’t the upper management just love that?”
Neku flicked his eyes to Joshua. “I still trust you, Josh. How’s it look?”
“We can take him with us. You’re his warden ‘til you die or his sentence is done, then you can renegotiate angelhood if you want.”
“But… what is his sentence?” Neku asked, looking between the now indistinguishable Hanekoma.
“I have to re-earn my Imagination: the human way.”
“No magic?”
“Some magic. About as much as Josh has. Which is a lot compared to you. Very little compared to before. And none at all when I’m not near my warden… though I’m not sure how near near is.”
“Don’t worry about that,” the second Hanekoma said, squeezing the first’s shoulder. “I’ve given you a little extra juice on your way. I’m sure they’ll take mine from me anyway. It’s enough to manifest your wings again, at least. Now get out of here, before there’s bigger problems. All of us is already tattling.”
“Bunch of assholes,” Hanekoma hissed under his breath.
“We both were, too. Well, me at least. Think you were always the black sheep. Now, sign and get.”
Joshua plucked a pen from nowhere, handing it to Neku who turned to the angelic twins. “You trust me?”
“With your life,” both Hanekoma said with a nod.
Neku signed with a flick of his wrist, the pull of slumber taking him again. He could barely hear Hanekoma and Joshua shout something as they hauled him upright at the torso.
With a jerk that felt like someone had tied a rope around his waist and then yanked on it from behind, Neku blinked his eyes open to Hanekoma’s shop, as destroyed as it was when they’d left it. He gasped for breath, completely winded and woozy, the world spinning around him until he succumbed, sliding out of Hanekoma and Joshua’s shared grip to bounce on the cracked tile floor.
Xxx
Hanekoma frowned, flapping feathered wings he forgot he’d missed. “J, you know you can’t throw yourself around the mortals—not like that. Not even to someone like him.” Carefully, Hanekoma pulled Neku out of the rubble, flinging his body over a shoulder. “Be glad he’s just passed out. If he stayed a moment longer in that dimension, he would have been gone. You could have killed him or worse.”
“But I didn’t,” Joshua insisted. “I needed him.”
“Did he know the risks?” Hanekoma asked roughly, finally free to yell at his former boss-and-ward without Neku overhearing. “He didn’t. You never told him.”
“You said in your notes that I’d be a strain on him. He had to know what that meant.”
“There’s a difference in knowing what your toned-down presence would do over a week versus what the full force of your power would do to him in a few hours,” Hanekoma chided. “He may have known the former, but you certainly didn’t tell him the latter.”
“What’s your point?” Joshua asked, watching Hanekoma shift Neku’s unconscious form into a more comfortable carry.
“My point is, stop breaking things, J. Stop treating everything like a broken bone that’s healing the wrong way. Not everything has to be shattered even more to fix it.”
“You were imprisoned by the Angels! All for trying to protect this city!” Joshua protested.
“I would have finished my sentence eventually,” Sanae countered in a calm and even tone. “I may have been in that place for eons, but it was—what? Three years here, maybe?”
“Five,” Joshua whimpered with a pout.
Hanekoma’s eyes flicked up and down Joshua, seemingly searching for something. “I’m putting Neku down in a room and warding it. He needs to recoup.”
Hanekoma turned on his heel to the shop backrooms, leaving Joshua standing confused in the mound of rubble.
Xxx
Whatever Hanekoma was doing, he was taking his sweet time. But Joshua heeded the barista’s words and waited, rolling his shoulders and slowly ratcheting his own wings back into the ether. Bored, he made himself a broom from Imagination and began idly sweeping up the chipped plaster and shattered tile. Eventually, Hanekoma returned to the shop portion of the building, eyeing Joshua.
“Physical labor? That’s a first.”
“I… I feel,” Joshua said, stopping to roll the broom handle in his fingertips. “I feel responsible.”
Hanekoma lowered his shades, peering over them. “Responsible. Who are you and what have you done with J?”
“I grew up, Sanae. Someone had to. You weren’t here. I have a new Conductor and Producer now.”
“What, so I’m outta a job?”
“I’m not kicking you out,” Joshua said, almost pleading. “You just don’t have any obligations. Other than your sentence, I guess.”
“With Neku as my warden,” Hanekoma sighed out. “You didn’t need to plan a jailbreak, J. You’ve waited longer than five years for things before. It’s hardly an eye-blink to people like us.”
Joshua slunk to the floor, defeated and boneless as he slid down the broom handle. A small cloud of debris puffed up around him as he went.
“Drama queen,” Hanekoma tsk’ed as he joined his former colleague on the floor, nesting his wings around himself. “I can’t say this isn’t nice though. Missed ya, J. Being honest, I don’t remember much at all from that place, anyway. Could’ve been a long time there before I became myself again without your little stunt.”
Joshua didn’t answer.
They sat in silence a few moments, then Hanekoma choked back a cry as his coworker—his friend—grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around him just under his wings. Hanekoma flapped them in surprise as Joshua buried his head in the down.
Angel and Reaper wings were their Soul; one didn’t just touch them—not without explicit permission. To touch someone’s wings meant someone else could feel what they did. Feel their joy, their disgust, their pain, or all at once.
Hanekoma didn’t pull away. He could hear—just barely, but it was there—Joshua sobbing silently into his back. Joshua was, for the first time in his so-called-life, showing Hanekoma a vulnerability he didn’t know the other even possessed. Slowly, the barista relaxed both sets of shoulders, taking on more and more of Joshua’s weight until his Composer was literally leaning on him as much as metaphorically.
Seconds ticked away from Joshua’s Pegasso crystal-quartz watch, which turned to minutes, then a solid half hour. Slowly, Hanekoma felt the weight lift.
“You let me,” Joshua said, a bit hoarse, patting the down where wing phased through clothes.
“You needed it, J. Pain shared is pain halved. I was happy to listen.”
“You didn’t want to be saved,” Joshua said sharply. “Forgive me for feeling like you were ungrateful. But… you weren’t. You were protecting me from the angels and a sentence like yours. You were a fall guy.”
“Yes,” Hanekoma said slowly. “I didn’t want you to suffer, too. Not being visible to the RG is hardly a penalty compared to what I have.”
“Pain shared is pain halved,” Joshua threw back at him, wiping snot off his face. If he’d been in his teenage form, he would have looked like just another kid. But Joshua was an ugly crier, and as an adult, he just looked silly—more so with a few errant feathers from Hanekoma’s back stuck to his dripping snot and hair.
“Wash up—the backroom sink works,” Hanekoma insisted, flapping his wings a few times to get rid of any other loose feathers. “I need to do some tidying, anyway.”
Joshua reverently ran his fingers through the shoulder of Hanekoma’s left wing. “Clean the shop all you want; you know all about me and dirt. But leave this part to me.”
Xxx
“I kinda expected more, Sanae.” Joshua leaned in the doorframe, pristine as her always presented himself to the public.
“I’m not exactly going to waste my magic, Boss.” Hanekoma went back to wiping down the countertops with a wet rag. The only change Joshua could see was all the broken furniture piled in a corner, with the floor debris in an equally uncoordinated pile.
“The human way?” Joshua asked with a smirk.
“If I’m not your Producer, I need a little art project to keep me busy.”
“Wouldn’t really call fixing a coffee shop art,” Joshua scoffed.
“It’s not not art, though,” Hanekoma countered, flinging the wet rag on a shoulder and smiling at the dented, but still functional, kettle on the burner, whistling away. “Tea?”
“Mm,” Joshua hummed with a nod. “Also, Neku’s phone was ringing nonstop.” He pulled his own from a pocket. “Oh. It’s past ten PM. Someone’s probably been wondering what happened to him. Least it’s still the same day we left.” Joshua cracked a small smile. “Gone for a week and the mortals think you’re dead or something.”
Hanekoma threw the rag square in Joshua’s face, storming past him to go retrieve the offending cell phone.
Xxx
Hanekoma sat on one of the two useable stools, Joshua behind him on the other, sipping tea from one hand while using the other to pull out stuck feathers. The barista unlocked Neku’s phone, scrolling through twenty missed calls. “Shiki. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”
“You planning to call?”
“I should. Neku’s probably going to need a day or more to recuperate. And then you’re going to call his mother and let her know he’s sick with a fever.”
“Can’t. RG people can’t perceive me for another few years, remember? Phone calls included.” He grinned toothily. “You’ll just have to clean up the mess for me.”
Hanekoma sighed, stretching out his wings a little so Joshua could pull out all the powder down stuck from his eons of not taking care of himself, and pressed a familiar name in the missed calls history. “Hello? Shiki?”
“Oh my god, is this the police? Where’s Neku?”
“Shiki,” Hanekoma smiled a little, glad for a familiar voice. “It’s… Hanekoma Sanae—the café shop owner on Cat Street.”
Hanekoma waited patiently as Shiki processed what that meant. “If Neku is dead, I’m wringing a long line of necks. Joshua’s first; something tells me this is his fault.”
Joshua laughed hard enough to slam forward into the angel’s back; Sanae shot him a glare. “Neku is alive, but he’s taken a massive hit of Imagination. He’s probably going to sleep a day or two.”
“But he’s alive.”
“Alive and in no pain, with no injury. Mortals just can’t handle being around a city Composer too long.” Hanekoma glared over his shoulder at a snickering young-looking man in a lilac button down.
“I’m coming over there,” Shiki insisted. “And Joshua better be ready to take a knee to the balls.”
“Unfortunately, you won’t be able to see or hear him, but hang on,” Hanekoma said, pushing back on the deadweight behind him with his wings. “I’m putting you on speaker. Feel free to yell at him—I already have.”
Hanekoma clicked to speakerphone, maximizing the volume and holding the phone out behind him.
“Go ahead, Shiki. He can hear you.”
Shiki took in a deep breath, expelling a gasp of colorfully laced expletives so pointed Joshua’s hair began to catch fire. The moment she was out of breath, she slammed the end-call button with enough force that Joshua’s wings twitched, even within their aether.
“Josh, you’d better be out of my shop before she gets here or you’re going to be in deep shit.”
“I didn’t realize someone who played the Game before could deal that much splash damage,” Joshua complained, patting out the embers on the edges of his loose curls.
“You were human once yourself, J. Now bolt before she sets all of you on fire.”
“Good night to you too,” Joshua grumped, crossing his arms as he slid off the seat, leaving Hanekoma’s wings in a worse looking state than when he’d started. He saluted awkwardly to the sighing barista, disappearing out into the night.
Xxx
“How are you holding up, kiddo?”
Neku rubbed the crust out of his eyes. “What year is it?”
“Same one you were in before this mess.” Hanekoma smiled. “You slept away three days, though. I impersonated you on the phone to your mom and college—hope that’s alright.”
“So it’s…”
“Monday night. Six PM. Josh’s going to stay away from you for a while.”
“That why I feel like shit?”
“Mhmm. You want me to bring you in some food?”
“Bathroom,” Neku complained.
“Think mine still works.”
“You think?”
“Neku, I’m not human. I’ve never needed it.”
Xxx
“So now what?” Neku bit into his burger; nothing Hanekoma made, but then again, his kitchen was mostly still in shambles.
“I guess I rebuild. Maybe I take some art classes at community college.”
“Then I’m helping.”
“No, you’re-”
Neku glared up from his dinner. “That’s not up for debate. I’m your prison warden, remember? I help and in return, you let me paint in here.”
Hanekoma laughed. “You don’t even need to ask permission for that.”
“Oh, so I can tag every wall, floor, and ceiling in this bombed out husk of a deserted island?”
The barista frowned, leaning forward on the counter. “That didn’t get me any closer to having any inspiration, you know.”
“And I think that’s a lie,” Neku replied, crossing his arms. “Josh didn’t see it either. Maybe the individual components were copies, but that space you made in that other place was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Incredible doesn’t even begin to describe it. Nothing we do is truly unique anyway; we’re always working off the backs of those who came before us. It’s what voice we add to that conversation that makes our art what it is and… I should really be following my own advice. Hang on. I’m making a few calls, and you’re not stopping me.”
Neku pulled out his phone and rolled through his contacts list. “Hey, Sho. I’ve got a destroyed café here ripe for a giant-ass chandelier. You in?”
“Neku,” the other end of the line sounded annoyed. “I don’t do electrical.”
“So? You do the sculpture; I’ll get someone else to wire.”
“It’s going to be made of trash.”
“Why do you think I called your ass? Take notes; here’s the address.”
Xxx
“I haven’t done heavy lifting in… forever,” Hanekoma said, wiping actual sweat off his brow. It was a weird feeling, being sort-of human, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. The past six weeks had been a whirlwind with Neku in charge, directing a steady stream of ethereal beings— self included— into a massive renovation of his shop. The place was an explosion of color and life, an irony in real time to contrast the lack of both on the owner.
“Quit complaining,” Uzuki demanded, hauling the other end of the new bar counter. “If I can get Kariya to lift your tables in, you can help with your own damn high-top.”
“The one you danced on,” Hanekoma said with a grin, looking down at the hot purple and neon orange footprints crisscrossing the acrylic-sealed bar counter. The two had tangoed across a plank, then encased it for eternity in enough two-stage resin that it would never fade—Neku was particularly proud of that collaboration. Uzuki pushed the shop door with her shoulder, so both of them could bring the counter inside.
“—and you don’t need to hold that ladder, Neku.”
“I don’t want you falling,” Neku snapped back, looking up at the Reaper wiring in the shop’s new light fixture. It looked like a vending machine had exploded on the ceiling, and Hanekoma loved it.
“Neku, I can fly,” Triple Seven replied, waving a pair of wire strippers. He was flapping his wings to show those off as well, not that Neku could see them from the RG.
“My masterpiece can’t,” Sho grumbled from the corner, looking on in a mix of horror and awe as Seven worked his stage rigging magic to get the recycled-bottle chandelier hooked into the building’s wiring.
“Look, it’s way easier for me to do this if I’m not trying to balance,” Seven sighed out. “Sho, get up here and hold it in place, so I can finish. Neku, go help do something that doesn’t involve a ceiling or frying yourself on open electricals.”
Sho sighed, stood up, and vanished back into the UG, flapping up to hold the sculpture as Seven jumped off the ladder. Neku winced, unable to see either of them.
“If you can hear me, I’m going to check on Shiki and her friends making chair cushions.” Sho rattled the ladder with his foot, and Neku smiled. “Hey, Mr. H, your shop’s haunted.”
“I’d be more worried if it wasn’t.”
Xxx
“So?” Hanekoma slid a ceramic cup down the acrylic to Neku. “Get your grade back yet?”
“Semester ends in January, Mr. H; it’s gonna be a while yet. How about your magic?”
“While this helped, no. It’ll be a while yet for me too. Can’t complain about the décor, though.”
Hanekoma and Neku grinned, taking in the space. Except for one section of wall painted with chalkboard paint for patrons to go wild doodling on, every square inch of the shop was covered in art altogether dizzying and explosively contrast in design.
“Opens tomorrow, right? My teacher is coming around again to see it.”
“Soft open today though.”
“Sign said closed,” Neku pointed out with his teaspoon.
“Maybe for the living.”
“Ah, a few reapers pass by?” Neku asked with a smile. “Hey, make a bet with you.”
“What?”
“How many days the shop’s open before a paying customer draws a dick on your wall.”
“Zero.”
Neku looked sideways as a handful of change bounced across the counter, Sho coming into view. He downed his already half-drunk coffee and loped to the chalkboard to vandalize it. Neku flicked his eyes at the empty tables and chairs, a massive grin breaking out on his face as every single one was filled in with a Reaper, raising glasses in toast.
“We all needed someplace to stay,” Hanekoma said on the room’s behalf. “Thanks for giving us a home. It’s still pretty broken and lopsided, but I promise we’ll keep the lights on.”
“Mr. H, this was already your home.”
He shook his head. “No, Neku. It was only a shop.”
“If its home, does that mean the drinks are free?” A few reapers turned to the furthest corner of the room—Joshua grinned, sitting backwards in his chair.
“J, what did I say about coming ‘round when Neku’s here?” Hanekoma scolded.
“…Don’t?”
“Short bursts only, lest you want to clean up the exploding brains on the wall.”
Neku shrugged. “It’ll probably add to the ambiance.”
10 notes · View notes
cold-neon-ocean · 4 years
Note
Concerning the comics, do you dislike Thanos himself or the Black Order's previous (?) affiliation with him?
A mix of both but primarily the former. Thanos is my least favorite fictional character in existence so I’ll always grind my teeth at The Order’s subservience to him seemingly without much reason in the earlier comics aside from “they’re evil and Thanos is the biggest evil so they worship him!” because to me it’s boring. I don’t like god-mod characters and Thanos is the epitome of that trope. “He’s so powerful that only gets defeated by the heroes because he subconsciously wants to lose as punishment, isn’t he just the most tragic villain ever ;A;” gags
Regarding The Order’s affiliation with him I don’t.. MIND it, in fact I do like it as a set up for their coming together, I just wish it was written where the characters had some more agency and Marvel would actually allow them to move on once he’s gone. Admittedly with the Thanos 2019 comics they did seem to attempt this (despite how many holes it poked in the known canon among other things), and I liked some of the ideas presented, mainly The Order starting out as hired mercenaries with Proxima and Maw, I loved that a lot, and how their loyalty is conditional so long as they are benefiting from the partnership (maybe not as flip-floppy as they were in the comics) and are willing to dip out if they aren’t. THAT I really like even though that was clearly never the case in previous comics lol. The problem is that I- love Proxima SO MUCH, and I hate Thanos SO MUCH so my brain doesn’t want her anywhere near him, especially as some mindless lackey because she deserves better lol. Also my issues could stem from my primary introduction to The Black Order came from the MCU where they are VASTLY different characters than what they are in the comics, and far less developed so I had a lot more room to headcanon and make up my own stuff about them freely before I started looking into them in the comics (which could also explain my mixed feelings about how they’ve been written lately in the comics post-Thanos). I do want to preface that I don’t have a complete knowledge of The Order’s history because I can’t find complete lists of all the comics they’re in. Though from what I can find I’ve read most of their content if I’m not mistaken, but I’m sure there are some more obscure minor appearances that maybe explain some things that haven’t been listed anywhere that I’ve missed.
If I were to throw in my input and talk about MY rendition of The Black Order which is how I choose to write them based on my own personal tastes in my side AU where the Marvel Universe is much less CONVOLUTED(the same AU all my Ronan and Crystal content exists in), I have things set up jumping off the initial ideas of Thanos 2019, where the mercenary group Maw and Proxima were in were initially hired by Thanos, with Cull (I refer to Black Dwarf by his MCU name because I like it better lol) and Corvus being added later. And the affiliation is very conditional from The Order’s perspective. The Order are always watching and judging and gauging whether or not the partnership is worth maintaining, Maw and Proxima especially, and even though I try to write for Thanos as little as possible because I hate touching him and only do what’s absolutely necessary, he can feel the pulls of their defiance at times (with Proxima ESPECIALLY) and has to really think about how he holds onto them, hence the change from hiring adults to kidnapping children who are much easier to condition. Think of them as akin to the hyenas and Scar in The Lion King, loyalty and a willingness to do as they’re told until they stop benefiting from it (though the fear of being hunted down and killed for disloyalty keeps them there as well) and later on realizing, and some having known from the beginning, that they’re meant for more than just being servants and want more for themselves. But that’s in my perfect would. 
What I mainly don’t like about how The Order were written under Thanos in the canon is that they’re just lackeys with not much to them, we know nothing about them like when or why they joined (prior to Thanos 2019 ofc but even then we still don’t knew when or how Cull and Corvus came into the picture), just that they did and that’s all that matters. They’re there because they’re evil and that’s about it, they’re blind followers with not a single thought going on in their own heads. That did change over time of course but The Order are STILL functioning under a “what if Thanos comes back” basis, like they’ll have no choice but to go crawling back to him whenever/if he does because that’s just what they do? I knew Marvel would never keep Thanos permanently dead in the comics like they said they would lol I called bullshit on that from day one. When Maw mentioned Thanos’ return in Star #5 I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my mouth because I KNEW that was coming (though I do appreciate how Proxima didn’t give a single shit about it lmao). There was also something said preceding the Black Order solo comics in 2019 about how Corvus will still ALWAYS choose Thanos above all else, even his wife and brother, which made ZERO sense??? and also I wasn’t sure why this needed stating when Thanos was canonically dead in the comics following the statement that he’d be perma-dead. It felt like they just weren’t gonna let him grow as there was always that possibility they’d bring Thanos back and send The Order right back to him, undoing all the development they’ve done without him like they’ve done before. I remember when Thanos made Corvus kill himself after he returned and formed a new Black Order and Proxima just... didn’t react to it, though this seemed to be retconned after the universe reset so I’m still confused about that. I also think about how in the Death Sentence novel (and I know this kind of exists in it’s own separate universe but just discussing the overall mentality of writing The Order), again Corvus in particular is written like he needs someone to lead him or he can’t even properly function and he even has a full blown emotional breakdown when he realizes Thanos is back and I just… hate it. Him and Proxima “needing” Thanos to be their god and lead them it’s just stupid and weird and I can’t stand it. I remember Proxima even makes an internal statement about how Corvus falls apart when he doesn’t have someone leading him???
So my main issue in regards to Thanos’ affiliation with The Order as it’s written in the canon is that they’re written as if they can’t do anything without him, ofc this is all before the big universe reset with The Challenger where Thanos is supposedly dead for good but we all know that isn’t true. They were given some agency when they were on their own but with the mention of Thanos in the recent Star comic I have… little hope for them remaining their own thing. They talk about how they don’t want to be servants and how they want to do their own thing then the writers have them fall right back into their old beats of being servants for someone and chasing infinity stones and worrying about what T fucking Hanos will think when he comes back and I just…….. want more for them. I want them to be more fleshed out as characters and have actual ambitions and goals that align with their actions. Because they’re such interesting characters that I genuinely love(well most of them) and have a lot of potential, and I want to see them grow and develop and actually follow through with what they say and not get dragged backwards every time the plot requires them to. I’m still catching up on all my Black Order related comics (there aren’t a lot of complete lists of their appearances out there for me to refer to sadly but I’ve read most of the major ones I believe) but all I really want is for them to finally and actually be able to move on from Thanos. Especially with Corvus because (prior to Star #5 which I’ll expand on in a sec) it makes him look fucking stupid to have him default to “we chase the infinity stones because that’s what we do” after having them talk in previous comics about about how they want to be different and work for themselves, and Black Swan is like “chasing the stones has only ever made us miserable, whymst are we doing this???” and have her bring up valid points about how they don’t need to and Corvus is still just like “nope, nope we gotta.” and doesn’t even explain why. And now apparently that ‘why’ is because they expect Thanos to return? Or at least Maw does? I choose to believe that Corvus wanted the reality stone because it could give them some protection from a possible return of Thanos and allow them to stay together and do as they please like they want. To “forge their own reality” as Corvus said in the Death Sentence novel ironically, that would at the very least be a reason to continue infinity stone hunting that I’d be on board with.
I dunno, lol perhaps my lack of the full scope with missing a few things from sporadic comics and just my own personal views and tastes regarding the characters clash a lot with how the canon wants to portray them and at the end of the day that just is what it is lol. I didn’t intend this to get so long and.. rambly, the subject of Thanos in general gets me on a soap box and I never know how to get off aah. But yeah I hope that made some semblance of sense? The main gist of the story was really that sentence about loving Proxima and hating Thanos so I just naturally want her nowhere near him; and it was actually that affiliation that put me off of The Order for so long before I finally saw the light and realized they’re all vastly more interesting characters than he is LMAO. But I’m gonna stop because this just hit it’s 3rd page in my google docs and I’m starting to get embarrassed wheezes :’D
7 notes · View notes
psychefm · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
talk to the hand [ TIMOTHEE CHALAMET ], [ REED ‘NEWT’ NEWTON ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ TWENTY ], the [ CIS BOY] works at [ BABBAGE’S ] in the mall and, like, [ HE ] totally reminds us of [ CHANDLER BING ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ HOME ALONE ]???? so is mine!
ABOUT THE MUN.  i used to lie to y’all, my mom didn’t say no, i did
i hate this site man. and that’s it, that’s all you gotta know about me. 
BIO. good news!!!! i’ve successfully replaced all my emotions with jokes !!!! tw bullying
reed newton was born in london england to sylvia anne bixby and cornelius otis newton and honestly, he’s regretted it ever since.
newt was an accident. he was the product of one of his mother and father’s first ever lustful encounters, and their subsequent shotgun wedding so honestly they both spent most of newt’s formative years in the honeymoon period. some of newt’s earlier memories are of him walking in on his parents doing the devil’s tango in the broom closet and his nanny rushing to cover his eyes. good times. 
honestly newt walked in on his parents doing the do more times than any kid should have before the age of nine. and then he walked in on a parent doing the do with a non parent. in other words newt got an eyeful of his father and the pool boy and it wasn’t long after that that his parents went through a long and messy divorce. once again, good times. 
his mother decided to pack up their things and move herself and her nine year old very impressionable son to nebraska, because fuck that kid amiright. newt was quickly designated as the skinny weird nerdy kid with glasses and a funny little accent, and so as you can guess he was pretty mercilessly bullied from age nine to eighteen. he really never stood a chance.
i feel like this is a good time to mention that newt’s mother was a sex therapist, which is not the same as a regular therapist but still, therapist is in the name. he should have been able to talk to his parent in this time of strife and get some level of support right? nope. sylvia bixby is well known for writing a men are from mars, women are from venus like book on communication and dating and all that, so his mom was generally on book tour after book tour. but maybe she would have been supportive if she was ever actually around, right? again, nope. 
unbeknownst to newt whenever his mother was around she was not only just casually psycho analyzing her only child for shits and giggles, no, she as also writing about it. newt’s mother wrote an entire book about raising a highly repressed teenage son with newt as the star, and you can only guess what that did for newt’s stellar high social status in high school. nothing great. 
did newt ask her not to publish it once he realized she had wrote it? yes. did she still publish it? also yes. so newt and his mother no longer have the greatest relationship. holidays are awkward.
things were not better on his fathers end, but it wasn’t because his father particularly did anything nearly as tone deaf as his mother. yes, his father was a famous erotica novelist and yes that made newt’s life a living hell, but newt luckily wasn’t the subject of those books. neil transitioned from writing fabio like novels to writing some lgbt fiction which, great for representation, horrible for your teenage son who is now known around school for having a dad who writes porn. to top it off, neil ended up starting a long term relationship with the pool boy and gaining a pseudo step son from it. benjamin caley was not only more athletic than newt, not only more attractive than newt, but also better than newt in every single way imaginable which was a real self esteem booster. his father actively prefers benji and every time newt visits him in england over the summers he comes home hating himself a bit more.
which works out because after the book being published, most people kind of hated newt too so at the very least he was on trend. there was a lot of classic nineties bullying you know, wedgies, swirlies, shoving newt into lockers. all very cliche. newt would tell his bullies as much, but it never really went over that well. 
but then finally newt graduated. he was free from the hell that was the public education system and his childhood household. he graduated with honours, moved out of his mother’s house, and got himself his own apartment with a roommate near the mall where he got his first real job. 
goes to university for software engineering. has an internship at apple that he’s absolutely terrified to mess up. has an old beat up car that was like the first big purchase he ever made with his own money, so he loves it to death even though it’s a piece of shit. 
PERSONALITY.  do you fear me? don’t feel so special now. i have social anxiety. i fear everybody.
this is my first time playing newt so all of this is subject to change BUT
INSECURE. newt is a weird mix of cripplingly insecure and weirdly confident and there is no in between ever.
WITTY.  humour is and always will be the only defense newt has against anything, so he makes a lot of jokes especially when he feels uncomfortable.
EMPATHETIC. newt is a big push over when it comes to emotions like he would never do anything to hurt someone unless it was by accident or he was provoked or you’re his step brother benji or either of his parents in which case he will run you over with his car on sight. but no really, if newt is in a position where he has to hurt somebody he will do absolutely everything in his power to either not or avoid the situation completely. 
AWKWARD. sometimes honestly, although it depends on the day. v clumsy though. usually he can try to make his awkwardness funny but does he always succeed? the answer is no. 
HEADCANNONS.  actually all of my systems are nervous.
has to drink like six cups of coffee or tea a day. very serious about his tea because english. also has vegemite on his toast. 
can actually cook pretty well even though he prefers to eat takeout. cooks because it’s cheaper and he’s a broke ass student yk. won’t take money from his parents ever, and will straight up give it away if it’s forced upon him. 
writes star trek fanfic for fun and has a kind of weird relationship with writing because of his parents honestly?? but he enjoys it so, maybe the apple in fact does not fall from the tree. 
has commitment issues because of his parents divorce but don’t we all. 
developed a stutter after all the divorce drama because he thought it was his fault. he later had to see a speech therapist. his mother later had a fwb relationship with this same speech therapist. newt wanted to die. 
traded his glasses for contacts and you will literally only see newt in glasses if he rips or loses his contacts or if he’s at home. 
in love with all things sci fi, will rent and see every sci movie ever made if he can 
accidentally knocks down at least one display in babbages per day so there’s that.
speaking of newt runs a small side gig out of babbages where he fixes up tech because paying for university, rent, and car insurance out of pocket gets up there. so if you need someone to fix your desktop newt is your guy. 
is actually a pretty good flirt when he’s drunk or feels comfortable. is constantly teetering between painfully insecure and confident. 
is very bi and very hesitant about it because of his father and all his feelings towards that, but he will eventually stop fighting it so much soon hopefully. has probably had a few drunken hookups with guys but tries to convince himself that is just a drunk thing yk. 
is allergic to bees so death has a kiss just for him i guess. 
loves video games but that goes without saying
has anxiety and takes medication for it, one of the few healthy things his mother has ever done for him. 
speaking of his mother if newt ever sees her book about him in a book display he will spend as much time as needed taking each book and hiding them in obscure places so that no one will ever be able to find them and buy them. he read the whole thing because he had to know and yep he absolutely hates it. 
goes by newt and only newt so that no one can make the connection between him and his mother or his father upon first meeting him or hopefully ever. a lot of the kids he went to high school with still know though and with the accent and everything, he’s not fooling anyone who has at least heard a rumour 
idk what else y’all imma fite tumblr for making me write this twice
WANTED CONNECTIONS.  actually wait, i take that self deprecation back, i’m great.
ROOMMATE. because newt can’t afford his place on his own between all his expenses. please. think of the shenanigans. 
ON AGAIN OFF AGAIN THING. kind of inspired by chandler and janice tbh. these two are pretty incompatible and whenever they’re together all they talk about is breaking up with each other but whenever they’re broken up and they see each other they somehow always find themselves waking up in bed together the next morning. it’s a mess.
NERD SQUAD. give me newt’s friends from high school please and thanks. just a crew of absolutely dweebs and misfits. 
FWB/EWB. self explanatory considering newt’s big commitment issues but i just imagine like making out in the back room and like hooking up in the break room and someone leaving like a damning article of clothing in there and the two of them scrambling to get it before anyone notices. just fun. 
EX. self explanatory but yes, an ex gf or bf, an ex fwb or ewb, give me all the exes please. 
REPEAT CUSTOMER. this person is always paying newt to come fix their computer and other tech and newt just doesn’t understand how they mess it up so badly. like he doesn’t get how or why technology hates them as much as it does, but he’ll take the money.
HATESHIP. just good old fashion animosity. could be hate from school or the fresh hate upon working in the mall together or they can just be newt’s least favourite customer and he can hate them for that. 
CRUSH. maybe newt had a crush on them in school. maybe they had a crush on newt in school. maybe newt has a crush on them now. maybe they have a crush on newt now. 
and anything else tbh. i’d love a smoking buddy for newt, a friend who he can never get any work done around like when they’re together they’re just like !!!, someone who used to be one of the popular kids who he is now getting along with or still holding a grudge against, his big gay awakening in school maybe like the first masc person he had a crush on, someone who tries to get newt to party and come out of his shell, someone who idk steals from babbages skjsdj idk man i am open to anything at all so just like this and we can brain storm if anything!
13 notes · View notes
Text
Variety show
Summary: You and Jeongin, by some happy (or not?) coincidence, ended up on the same variety show, but could you both keep your relationship a secret with prying questions?
Requested: yes
Pairing: Jeongin x Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, idol AU
Word count: 3.5k words
Warnings: written at 11pm, so probs sometimes weird sounding and im too tired to check
A/N: 1) don’t even ask me abt the group name idek what i was thinking. 2) DAmn sON i didn’t mean to make it this long. 3) fun fact: at first this was gonna be a comedic bulletpoint story, then i changed it to a feeble emotional roller coaster (i really do mean feeble af). 4) i hope you like it <33
MASTERLIST
“Please welcome our wonderful guests, Five Times Brighter!!!”, called the MC, followed by the cheers from the audience. One by one your group members and yourself filed out onto the small stage to greet the crowd. You were quickly ushered into a seat, where you could witness the sheer amount of people who had come to watch, obscured slightly by the blinding glare of the stage lights.
You felt your throat tighten. This better work out, you thought, feeling ill at ease by knowing there must have been at least ten cameras pointed at you and your comrades. What would we do if anyone found out? You shook your head violently with a pout. Stop it. Nothing’s gonna happen. You’re overreacting...
You were jolted out of your thoughts by the voice of the MC as he raised his voice again. “And now please welcome the rookie legends themselves! The great award winners, Stray Kids!!!” The room erupted into screams of fans as the nine handsome boys jogged out from backstage.
Your stomach did an uncomfortable somersault. Don’t make eye contact! If you do, someone will definitely notice!! Then you’re finished!!! You mentally slapped yourself and took a deep breath. You then realized that you’d placed your index and middle finger against your throat, an uncanny imitation of Felix taking his pulse as he became nervous. You’d somehow picked up the habit from the cute Aussie boy as you hung out with him at the same time as Jeongin. With a gulp, you slammed your hand back onto your lap and stared unemotionally at the boys as they sat on the other couch across from you from the MC’s center chair.
When everyone had sat down, the room went annoyingly quiet. You swallowed back anger as you waited for the MC to ask something and distract you. Finally:
“First, I’d like to ask both groups if they could tell us what inspired certain songs in their album”. Some applause followed as you forced your muscles to relax. “Should we ask FTB first?” The crowd cheered.
Your smile started becoming a little more genuine. Nothing bad, just a mindless answer to your average question. The ‘What inspired you to write X’ question was always a default for some reason. But at least it was eas-
“Y/n!” The blood drained from your face at your name. Oh... oh no... “A little birdie told me”, the MC said cheekily, “that you wrote one of the most successful songs on the album. ‘Winged love’, wasn’t it?”
You started to loath the MC, or whoever had decided that that specific question would be a good one. It’s true, you had written and composed the song, but your inspiration was exactly what you wanted to avoid, as your mind flashed to moment you got the idea for the lyrics.
~~~~~~~~~
“Try to pick your feet up a bit more here”, you said, poking Jeongin’s leg as he posed awkwardly in front of the practice room mirror. He groaned in retaliation, muscles trembling from exhaustion.
“I can’t do it”, he whined. “It’s useless. Just go on without me and practice on your own. You’ll do so much better without me dragging you down”.
You scoffed without any amusement. “Like Hell I will. I’m staying right here until you can get this. I said I’d help, so I’m helping”. He gave you a pitiful look, and you smiled softly. “Let’s take a break, then. I’ve got biscuits!”
“I don’t usually eat at this hour”, Jeongin said hesitantly.
“You don’t usually practice at this hour”, you answered matter-of-factually. You didn’t wait for an answer and dragged your boyfriend down to the floor, rolling to your side and grabbing a huge packet full of snacks and tearing it open mercilessly. You offered one to the boy in front of you, who conceded with a sigh. “Cheers!” You knocked your biscuit against his, making a couple of crumbs fall to the ground, and shoved the entire thing into your mouth. Jeongin stared at you until you made a face, cookie still lodged between your cheeks, making him burst into laughter. You fought not to spit your snack out as you sniggered with him.
“How do you do that”, he asked.
“Mmmfmm ru wha”, you said, still trying to down your food.
“Always find a way to make me feel so much better, no matter how battered I feel”, he said, mesmerized. You stared at him uselessly, so he continued. “When I’ve been at my worst, or when I’ve felt like giving up, you’ve been there to pick me up. You’re like my pair of wings”. You stayed quiet, scared to knock him out of his reverie. He smiled faintly. “At this point, I could jump off a mountain, trusting you to catch me if you said you would. And I always feel safe with you. No matter what scares me, I feel better when you’re next to me, as if you’ve become a hypothetical shield. And I want to be the same, I want to always be there for you, whenever you’re feeling down, I want to be the first person you think of going to”. He suddenly curled his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut. “That was so cringey I’m sorry”.
You giggled softly and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s a little cliche, I admit. But it’s the best kind of cliche. Because I feel the same way”. You lifted your head kissed his cheek. “I’ll always be right here. And I’ll always trust you to be there too”.
~~~~~~~~~
Your eyes came back into focus, as your mind started racing, scrounging for a decent story that could convince the public that it had nothing to do with the very boy who was sitting only five feet from you.
“Uh-uhhh”, your mind became completely blank. “My... One of my old friends”. You cleared your throat. “Whenever she was upset, I would want to do anything to make her feel better. And I did do some pretty stupid things”. You smiled sheepishly at the pitch black half of the room where the fans giggled in reaction to your stutter. Your confidence grew as you continued: “The lyrics represent what I wanted to be to her. I wanted her to feel as if she could trust me with anything at all. As if I could always pick her up if she felt low”. You finished and prayed that it was enough.
The MC nodded, thoughtful. “So she never said the things in the lyrics out loud?”
You shook your head. “She wasn’t the most extroverted person”, you answered. “But I hope that that’s how she felt”. At that, everyone seemed satisfied and applauded. You bobbed your head, looking back at your clenched fists in your lap. I’ve gotta be more careful. One slip-up and I’m in deep-
“How about our favorite maknae”, the MC laughed, turning to SKZ. Your pulse went sky-high again.
-shit.
Jeongin let his eyes go wide, and pointed at himself. “Na?” He asked in an innocent voice. Despite your nerves going crazy, you managed to chuckled along with everyone else at the cute act.
The MC wasn’t an exception, though he quickly regained his posture. “Yes, I believe it was you who wrote the song ‘Midnight Walk’, am I correct?”
The boy nodded with a bright smile. “That’s right! And the first ever song where I wrote one hundred percent of the lyrics!!” He glowed with pride, and a secret burst of happiness for him shot through you. You could still remember when he’d told you about his accomplished goal.
~~~~~~~~~
You swung your hand, latched onto Jeongin’s, back and forth as you both strolled down an empty trail that ran along the Han River. “So?”, you prompted.
He looked back at you. “What?” He was playing innocent. Of course he was. You giggled and started swinging your connected hands even more, feeling blood rush through your slightly chilled fingers. Without speaking, you both started skipping forward, bumping each other and giggling like children. You loved that. That you could both move in sync without having to communicate. This continued until you pulled him to a stop.
“Okay, now actually tell me. What did you wanna say earlier. You looked as if you were about to explode with excitement”.
Jeongin grinned happily. “I...” he spoke excruciatingly slowly. “...have written.... my own song! And it’s gonna be on the next album!!!!!” At this, he picked you up and spun you around, until you felt too dizzy to stand on your own.
You laughed with him, and leaned on him. “Jeonginie, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you”. You kept clinging onto him. “What’s it called?”
“I haven’t decided yet”, he confessed. He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think I could name it after a fun memory with you? Without being too obvious, that is”.
You nodded. “Yeah, I think you could get away with it”.
And so he grinned broadly. “Okay, then. How about I call it midnight walk, after tonight?”
“Why tonight of all things? We’re just walking”, you asked incredulously.
“Because the simplest memories with you are the best”, he answered, squealing a bit at the overly sweet phrase.
You laughed. “Alright then. Are you allowed to spoil a few lyrics for me?”
“Of course”, said Jeongin, hoisting you up so that he was half carrying you. “It’s my song after all”. His voice went up a notch with happiness. “A few lines feel a bit random, without context; but just remember that I thought of you while writing them”. You hugged his arm until you thought you might be cutting his circulation. As you both kept walking, you slowly regained your balance and he listed a few lines from his oeuvre. That was the best walk at 1:30am you’d ever had.
~~~~~~~~~
Jeongin was still beaming at the MC, who began fanning himself dramatically. “His smile is so blinding”, he called, and there came calls of agreement from the audience. “But you still haven’t answered”. The room went silent again. “What inspired you to write the lyrics of ‘Midnight Walk’?”
Jeongin gave another dazzling smile. “It was a lot of different things; it took months of me scribbling down random ideas to be able to form something logical”.
The MC nodded again. “Of course, the lyrics do vary a lot. But I think we’re more interested in the more romantic sounding ones in the song”. The crowd ooh-ed, as if confirming the statement.
Your boyfriend grinned once more. “Well, those specific lines are dedicated to someone very special in my life”.
NO! You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from yelling aloud. He knew about the warnings, as well as you.
~~~~~~~~~
“Both Stray Kids and Five Times Brighter Will be on a variety show on the second weekend of the month”, stated one of your managers, standing next to JYP himself. Everyone nodded together as the schedule was recited in its entirety. It was all standard, except for the fact that the two groups had never been on a same show.
As the schedule came to its end, both groups dispersed to continue practice, but JYP called Jeongin and yourself aside. “I’d like to specify something”, he said in a tone that let you know that nothing good was coming. “When you’re both on that variety show in the middle of the month, I don’t even want you two to make eye contact. We don’t want anyone knowing about your relationship. I’m warning you now, keep it under wraps, and there won’t be any problems”.
You and Jeongin nodded, eyes round. As JYP finally walked away, you turned to your boyfriend. “Why the Hell does he want us to stay a secret?”, you failed terribly at keeping the anger out of your voice. “You’re allowed to be dating by now, so am I. No one needs to know that we started going out before my ban was up. So what’s his problem?”
Jeongin pulled you against him. “I don’t know, but let’s just do as he said. I don’t wanna think about what could happen if something goes wrong”. You eventually agreed, still grudging.
“It’s still unfair that we have to hide when we’re so happy”.
~~~~~~~~~
The memory raged in your mind, nearly as loud as the screams of shock that wracked the studio at Jeongin’s words. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes, as he smiled calmly. Jeongin, what are you going??!!!!
“They’re dedicated to someone special in my life”. He had to raise his voice to make himself heard. “Whom I’ve not met yet”. There was a collective gasp at the strange turn in his statement. “One day, I want to be able to say those things to the love of my life, on a walk at one in the morning”.
Everyone aah-ed in understanding, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or kiss him, but at least no one suspected anything anymore. And he’d very secretly hinted at the walk when he shared the lyrics with you, in the dead of night. Your heart swelled with warmth and love for the boy.
“Look at y/n, they’re blushing!”, yelled the MC. You were so shocked that you yelled out as everyone shouted teasingly. The MC started laughing. “Are you thinking of anyone in particular, y/n? Anyone you’d like to take a midnight walk with?” Electricity filled the air.
None of your damn business, you thought hotly. But of course it was. Your entire life was not yours to control, but the public’s. You made a face as if you’d swallowed a particularly sour lemon, which incidentally seemed to be a pretty good answer for the public.
“Apparently, y/n isn’t at all interested in a relationship”, chuckled the MC. He quickly continued with a bunch of other standard questions, and you imagined the different ways you could smack him and still get away with it. Maybe I should throw a bucket of water at him, then he wouldn’t be so obnoxiously happy, you thought, in your own world.
You werre making eye-contact with Jeongin, and realized with a start that you’d been staring at him this entire time. You checked that no one had remarked, but the cameras were strained on Changbin as he complained about being woken up too harshly by Woojin, to the amusement of most. You quickly stole another look at your boyfriend but, almost too subtle to notice, he shook his head, looking a bit panicky. You immediately understood and glanced elsewhere, trying to act interested in some tangled cables by a stage light.
When the questions had dragged on long enough to make your feet go numb, it was finally time for a game before the show came to an end. You stood up gratefully, hobbling a bit to get to stage right. You craned your neck to see what game you were meant to play against Stray Kids, and with a crashing wave of horror, you realized that Pocky Stick packets were sitting on the tiny stool near the stage wings. You saw from the corner of your eye that Jeongin was looking as displeased about the idea as you, even though everyone else seemed almost thrilled.
This is nuts, you kept repeating to yourself. Either I’ll have to play with one of SKZ, WHO KNOW JEONGIN AND I ARE DATING, or I play against Jeongin and people realize that we seem too comfortable. It’s a lose lose situation oh shit oh shit oh sh-
“How about the desert-fox-maknae and y/n, who seems so keen to avoid a little kiss!”, yelled the MC, who was tantalizingly close enough for you to punch. You faced Jeongin, who had become unusually pale, and you fought back your own panic as you were passed a Pocky Stick.
Your stomach churned as you both stared at each other, sweat beading at the hairline. Someone gave your shoulder a push --you didn’t know who, and you couldn’t force yourself to care-- and you bit into you end of the stick. Jeongin bit the other end and cheers rose in the crowd, deafening you and making your eyes water.
You weren’t sure how long you both kept staring at each other, but in the seconds --it could’ve been hours-- that Jeongin’s eyes bore into yours, something seemed to click in his mind, and he clenched his jaw with determination. You nibbled a bit of the Pocky Stick and noise in the room went up. Slowly the gap between your lips became smaller and smaller until you were close enough for you to hear his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours, pounding in your ears.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your senses completely abandoning you. We must be less than a centimeter apart! And then you felt a firm hand clasp your wrist. Before you could understand what was happening, Jeongin’s lips smacked against yours. But not by accident. This was with decision, the Pocky Stick forgotten. From habit, you kissed him back, your ears ringing. As you pulled away, you realized it had been him who had grabbed your wrist, and he’d put a the other hand on your waist to pull you closer. The ringing in your ears was from the screams that came from the audience.
Panic rose up in you again as what had happened sank in. We kissed... on live TV!! Your heart was in your throat. What’s going to happen to us? Jeongin said something that never made it to your ears, but looked something like ‘trust me’. He turned to everyone watching, now in a confused frenzy at what they’d witnessed. “Y/n and I are dating”, he stated simply, which was followed by an enormous uproar. He continued in a yell. “We weren’t meant to say anything, but I think it’s unfair that we have to keep our happiness a secret, just for the satisfaction of the public. So now you know!!!” His last words were drowned out by more screams of shock and confusion as you were both pulled off and away from stage.
You had become light-headed, everything becoming an incoherent blur as your receded into your own chaotic thoughts. What’s gonna happen what will JYP do to us will we be kicked out of the company oh god what if I become the reason for Jeongin leaving Stray Kids I couldn’t live with myself--
In your daze, you were pushed into a small waiting room. “Wait here”, said a gruff voice. I’m going to pass out! The world is tilting to the left! And now the right... Left.... Right.... You leaned against a wall and looked at Jeongin, who stared back at you, expressionless. After a few seconds, you started violently trembling.
“What are we going to do”, you breathed, more to yourself than to your boyfriend. “They’ll hate us, they’ll kick us out of the company! Why did you do that?” You had no anger in your voice as you stared at Jeongin, just helplessness. He walked over and wrapped his arms around you tightly but with a little tremor.
“I don’t know”, he confessed, and you sniffled slightly. “But I thought of what you’d said when we were told to stay quiet. We shouldn’t have to hide, especially because we’re so happy. I think if JYP wants to kick us out, let him”.
“No, no, Jeongin!” You let out a panicked sob. “What about the other boys? You can’t leave them, not just for me! What ever happens, you can’t leave Stray Kids!”
You both stood there, holding onto each other tightly, for a long time. After what felt like hours, you both sat down on the shiny floor of the tiny room, still not letting go of each other’s hands. You had calmed down now, and just sat quietly. Suddenly, Jeongin sat up and grabbed his phone. “What are you doing”, you asked, your voice slurred and muffled from exhaustion.
“The show was a live broadcast wasn’t it”, asked Jeongin. “And because it’s the evening, most of the world will have been awake. Which means...” He tapped the Twitter icon and the app came to life. He immediately went to the Trending page, and with a gasp, you saw #JeonginAndY/nDating on the second most popular tag.
“Oh my God”, you breathed. You didn’t think the effect would be so big. Before you could stop him, Jeongin tapped on the tag. You yelped and looked away, not wanting to see any of the awful comments people had made.
“Y/n...” Jeongin’s voice was laced with shock.
“I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me it’s bad”, you say in despair.
“It’s... Everyone’s congratulating us!” Your eyes snapped open, and you swung your head around to glare at the bright screen. Thousands upon thousands of tweets had the trending hashtag, with people voicing their wishes of happiness for you as a couple, in English, Korean, you saw Spanish and french and Japanese. Message after message flashed by as Jeongin scrolled downwards. He started laughing; softly at first, then loudly, like a child how had received a special gift for Christmas. “They’re happy for us! Y/n they’re happy for us!!” He hugged you tightly as you laughed with him, more out of relief and exhaustion than anything else.
After a few more minutes, spent with you both bent over the phone and reading all the happy tweets, one of the staff came in to let you know that JYP was on his way to talk. “He didn’t sound as angry as we expected though, if that makes you feel a little better”, he said sympathetically. You thanked him as he wished you both luck and closed the door. And you turned back to Jeongin.
“You know... I don’t want to jinx it but... maybe this wasn’t as bad as I thought”, you said apprehensively.
The boy hugged you tightly. “Well, no matter what happens, we’ll always be there for each other. Right?”
You smiled, thinking of ‘Midnight Walk’ and ‘Winged Love’. “Right”. You felt warm, think about the lyrics you’d both written, saying you’d never leave the love of your life.
Because it was true.
Tumblr media
im sorry idek what the ending is anymore but eh this was the third draft soooo...
150 notes · View notes
anistarrose · 5 years
Text
If The Sky Comes Falling Down (GF One-Shot)
Summary: Stan’s (and Ford’s) birthdays throughout the years.
Word Count: ~2300
Warnings: none
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226707
Happy June 15th! (Title is from Hey Brother by Avicii!)
***
Stan and Ford are ten years old, and every one of their birthdays has been shared.
Every year, from the second the final school bell rings and onwards, the twins’ number one priority is planning the best birthday ever — what type of cake they want, which comic issues each of them should beg their parents for in order to maximize their combined yield, how they want to spend the day in order to make it the best day of the whole year.
Other kids at school seem to feel sorry for them, like having to share your birthday ruins all the fun of it, but to Stan and Ford, sharing has always been the whole point. With a twin, you’ve always got someone just as dedicated as you are to making your birthday perfect.
They’d never want it any other way.
Stan and Ford are seventeen years old, ready for their final year of high school, and as always they spend their birthday together. Today, they’re using the morning to work on the boat.
Freedom is tantalizingly close — just one more year of school, one more year of putting up with Dad. It feels just barely out of reach, just barely over the horizon.
If they time this thing right, and put in enough work, they might be able to complete the repairs just in time to sail out of town on the very day they turn eighteen. It’ll be a poetic and dramatic exit, as they journey onwards to clearer waters and grander adventures.
Just the two of them, going wherever they want to go. Stan can’t wait.
Stan (and Ford) are eighteen years old, and they aren’t spending their birthday together this year.
Ford is probably with his family — or maybe he’s already headed out to college and made new friends replacements there, for all Stan knows…
No, don’t waste time thinking about that, it won’t end well. The only thing Stan knows is that for the first time in his life, he’s spending his birthday alone, and he doesn’t have any idea what to do. Birthdays without Ford are a foreign concept to him, like an entirely new holiday that he’s never celebrated before, and he just feels empty.
Eventually, he settles on going to the nearest comic store and blowing his dwindling supplies of cash on the installments he’s missed over the past few months. He ends up not even having enough money to both get fully caught up and eat tomorrow, so he only buys a few issues — but it’s still enough to put a smile on his face that evening, even if that smile is only brought about by indulging in denial, by pretending he’s back home and everything with Ford is just as it’s always been.
Stan (and Ford) are twenty, twenty-five, thirty years old, and Stan still treats himself for his birthday however he can most years — if not the fifteenth, then the eighteenth, or even the twenty-eighth if it takes him that long to get ahold of a few spare dollars. And many years, he enjoys himself, but on others it just isn’t worth the painful memories that always tend to surface.
He’s realizing that sharing your date of birth with someone isn’t so fun after all, if you’re not sharing the celebration too.
Stan is thirty-one years old, and he doesn’t know if Ford is too because he doesn’t know if Ford’s even alive.
Summer is peak tourist season, so he has plenty of cash to spare, but he doesn’t do anything to celebrate when his birthday rolls around. He briefly has the notion that he should buy a cake and bring it downstairs to the portal room, but he discards the idea just as quickly. It just hurts to much to acknowledge.
Stan is fifty-two years old, and has been for nearly a month now as he gives Soos a reassuring pat on the back. The kid’s tears slow down a little, but not enough.
“Hey now, what’s the matter? Do you need to go home, ‘cause… well, it pains me to say this, but you haven’t missed a day of work since I’ve hired you, and I guess I could give you one day off with full pay…”
Soos shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. I — I don’t wanna be at home today.”
“Uh…” That surprises Stan, because as far as he knows Soos has a pretty idyllic home life with a grandmother who does nothing but dote on him — but if Stan has to curse out an old lady for reducing Soos to a bawling wreck, then he’ll do it, damn it. He’s cursed out stranger characters before.
There’s a sharp rap on the door — specifically the door to the private side of the Mystery Shack, not the side that’s open to tourists.
“Shoot, I gotta get this. Be right back,” Stan tells Soos, tossing him a box of tissues on the way out. Soos makes no effort to catch them, and the box bounces off his shoulder with a thwack as Stan cringes internally and hurries to the back porch.
And speak of the devil, it’s Soos’s Abuelita who’s waiting for him there, anxiously fidgeting with the straps of her apron.
“Has Soos come into work today?” she asks. “He said he would take the day off for his birthday party this afternoon, but he is not at home!”
Oh. So it’s a birthday thing.
“Yeah, I think I saw him swing by today,” Stan answers slowly. “I’ll go find him for you.”
“Thank you! I was so worried…”
Stan heads back inside, and sits down on the ground next to Soos even though his back protests against him with a burst of pain.
“Hey, kid. Your Abuelita’s looking for you.”
Soos buries his head in his hands, and mumbles something incomprehensible.
“Not a fan of birthday parties, huh? It’s okay… I’m not either.”
Soos looks up. “Really?”
Stan looks away. “Yeah, they’re just… not my thing.”
“My dad always promises he’d come visit on my birthday,” Soos mumbles. “But then he never does…”
“Oh, kid. I’m so sorry about that.” Stan pauses, and then throws an arm over Soos’s shoulder.
“I get it,” he whispers. “When it’s supposed to be the greatest day of the year for you, but then the people you care about — or the people you want to care about you — aren’t there, year after year, then it… it really wears you down.”
“Does your family never visit you on your birthday, Mr. Pines?”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah, something like that.”
Soos wraps his arms around Stan’s chest, trapping him in a surprisingly tight hug.
“I thought I was the only one who hated my birthday,” he whispers. “I’m sorry your family’s like that, Mr. Pines, but… I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
Stan is sixty-one years old, and he’s perfected the art of doing nice things for himself in early June and then lying to himself about it.
The party’s just a moneymaking scheme, nothing more. Getting to dance all night and eat marshmallows and other junk food? Those are just bonuses, and the timing? Falling exactly on the fifteenth of June? Well, that’s definitely just a coincidence.
Mabel is a whirlwind of energy and excitement on the dance floor, having apparently made some new friends, and Dipper is who-knows-where, probably off shirking his responsibilities and making trouble. They’re both good kids — their weirdness and stubbornness and just general twin-ness is a comforting kind of familiar on some days, and a worrying kind of familiar on others, but that’s not their fault. They don’t know.
Something about the presence of the younger twins tells Stan that it’s this summer that everything will finally change, though. That this is the last birthday that he’ll spend alone, unable to share.
Stan and Ford are both sixty-one, and all of those years have only led up to this. To the sky being ripped apart, and a demon burning the town to the ground.
“We used to be like Dipper and Mabel,” Ford says. “The world's about to end and they still work together. How do they do it?”
“Easy, they’re kids,” Stan tells him. “They don’t know any better.”
Ford stands up, a determined but wistful look in his eyes.
“Whoa, where you going?”
“I'm going to play the only card we have left — let Bill into my mind,” Ford explains. “He'll be able to take over the galaxy, and maybe even worse… but at least he might let the kids free.”
“What? Are you kidding me?! Are you honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?!”
“Bill's only weak in the mindspace. If I didn't have this darn plate in my head —” Ford makes a fist and hits the side of his skull for emphasis, producing a metallic clang. “— we could just erase him with the memory gun when he steps inside my mind.”
“What if he goes into my mind? My brain isn’t good for anything.”
Ford chuckles sadly. “There's nothing in your mind he wants. It has to be me. We need to take his deal, it's the only way he'll agree to save you and the kids.”
“Do you really think he’s gonna make good on that deal?”
Ford sighs. “What other choice do we have?”
“You could… holy shit, Ford, quick! Put on my clothes!”
“Excuse me?!”
Stan takes off his fez and slaps it on Ford’s head. “If we switch places, Bill can go in my mind and then you can erase him! If it fooled all our teachers, why can’t it fool a demon?”
Ford throws the fez to the ground and grabs him by the shoulders, and Stan braces himself for a reply of you idiot, that’ll never work, don’t you think I would have thought of that myself if it would? — but he’s left completely unprepared for the words that actually come out of Ford’s mouth, quiet and slow and afraid in a way Stan hasn’t heard in decades:
“Stanley, that won’t just erase Bill. It’ll erase you.”
“But will it work?” Stan doesn’t even need to ask — Ford has a certain gleam in his eyes, a certain look of awe upon his face that only appears when he’s truly blown away by a revelation that never occurred to him, but makes all the sense in the world. It’s a look that’s partially obscured behind an expression of fear, of guilt, of desperation — but it’s definitely there.
“It will work,” Ford whispers, “but I don’t want to lose you.”
“It’s either erasing one idiot’s memories or letting a lot of people die, Ford! We’re — we’re running out of time, damn it!”
Ford stares at the ground as he begins to pull off his trenchcoat. “I’m so sorry, Stan.”
“I am too, Ford.”
A man wakes up in a clearing and remembers nothing, least of all his age.
Strangers approach him, cry over him, call him a hero and hug him uncomfortably tight, and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to say.
Ford, the older man, tells him that his name is Stanley, and that the two of them are brothers, that they’re twins, but something about the realization rings hollow. Any connection Stan might’ve once had with this man has since been severed, leaving them to share a face, a birthday, and nothing more.
…Or at least, that’s what one would think, because surely a disoriented and confused shell of a man with ill-fitting clothes and no memories can’t be a brother to anyone, not in any of the ways that truly matter — but when Stan looks at Ford and sees him staring off into the distance with a defeated frown on his face, looks at any of these strangers and sees them in anguish… his heart feels like it’s about to be torn in two. So maybe, just maybe, some fragment of a connection has persisted.
He tries to lighten the mood, to no avail, and tries to remember the scenes in the scrapbook the girl shows him — and when words start spilling out of his mouth on instinct, he’s relieved not for himself, but for the others. (For his family.)
He’s relieved when he sees them start to smile, to hope, and finally thinks Yeah, these faces look familiar.
Stan and Ford are sixty-two years old, and they blow out the candles on their birthday cake together as Dipper takes pictures and Mabel showers both of them in confetti.
“Mabel, sweetie, that’s kind of a fire hazard,” Stan warns her. “You know, with the candles and all —”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Ford cuts in. “We all know where the fire extinguisher is, don’t we?”
“Yeah, because you’ve already come seconds away from blowing us into the stratosphere twice this summer!”
They laugh, and then Stan and Ford argue over who gets to cut the cake, but there’s no malice behind the words. It’s just the usual sibling banter — one of the many little things that Stan and Ford have found themselves appreciating more than ever this past year, after having gone so long without it.
Everyone is stuffed except for Stan, who’s cleaning out the last few spoonfuls from a tub of ice cream, when Ford pours one last glass of milk and raises it towards Stan like one would for a toast.
“Here’s to more birthdays together,” he says, and Stan hastily picks up his own cups to clink it against Ford’s. It’s not a very satisfying clink, since both cups are plastic, but it’s good enough. It’s the sentiment that really makes the toast, after all.
“To more birthdays together,” Stan echoes.
***
Endnotes:
Thanks for reading, feedback and reblogs are appreciated as always! I realize Stan acted in Blendin’s Game like he didn’t know what caused Soos to hate his birthday, but I feel like it’s plausible he wouldn’t have wanted to share something so personal with the others if Soos clearly didn’t want to talk about it (and also I wrote that scene before realizing this potential continuity issue and just really wanted to keep that dialogue).
Anyways, I could go on and on about how much these two stubborn old men mean to me, but to keep it brief, thinking and writing about them has helped me through a bunch of rough patches, so I felt like it was about time to write something for their birthday (which I’d hoped to do last year, but writer’s block was a bitch). I’m so proud of this whole dumb fictional family, and I had the biggest smile imaginable on my face while I was writing that scene of pure fluff at the end :’)
98 notes · View notes
goffilolo · 6 years
Text
Demise!Izuku as a Youtuber?
Yep! You heard me right. Demise server is a strange little land, full of strange little ideas, unfortunitely this one idea in particular wasn’t so little. So without further ado here’s all the shit we came up with in the server in regards to izuku as a youtuber within demise!au:
If Izuku was a YouTuber can you imagine the fucking chaos dumpster fire his channel would be
He's be like an edgy twink Jenna marbles(edited)
Doing Me time every damn day
bandit is jennas dogs
tenya is julien
He'd have weird ass videos like dipping bandits feet in red pet dye then putting a sign on him that says "you pet and you'll meet the last person who dared to"(edited)
And he's also make videos about him breaking into UA and interrupting classes and stuff
"hey gamers, today we're breaking into UA to see my boyfriend and read all of my friend's secret files"
And a video just of him filing Aizawa in weird places and at the end putting him on an inflatable mattress and watching him float away 
He wakes up in Canada
They don't know how or why
He just attaches a go-pro to trash bandit and let's him run wild. He probably has a seriesJust letting him loose in weird places
DONT LET TRASH BANDIT EAT AIZAWA'S SLEEPING BAG AT 3AM | VERY SCARY"hey guys so today ill be doing the 'How many bottles of quil can i steal before i get caught by Tsukabitch' challange. feel free to make a video of your own!" 
He probably dyes Bandit according to holidays and puts him as the profile picture. The kicker is, he only does it for holidays that his country doesn't celebrate
Like 4th of july
And Canada day
"Hewo soulless fuckers it is me your overlord, King of the soulless fuckers. Today I'll be going up to people in the streets and telling them that I killed God and Satan. But y'all know me, that's not enough. So I'll be asking them which one I killed first and if they get it wrong I take a shot of quil. The quil I'll be taking is the plain ol kind so don't worry your little marshmallow heads about it." 
He only makes text posts in OwO speak this just makes me realise demise!izuku would make a great youtuber
He would twitch stream all the time doing the weirdest shit for hours on end
"what is up gamews! today i wiww be weviewing the new game cawwed life! i have been pwaying it fow about 16 yeaws now and i have to say it's pwetty bad my guys!"
I feel like he'd be absurdly popular and whenever someone mentions him and they look up the channel they are like "wth have I stumbled upon?!"
I'm just imagining what his front page would look like
The seasonal trash bandit profile picture, the banner would be a flaming hellscape with people he dislikes burning and trash bandit looming on low opacity in the background 
(He made it so that only people who view it on TV get the full experience.)
He probably has his own segment on buzzfeed unsolved
Not talking
Its about him
The intro video would just be him staring into the camera while mixing together a horrible concoction of quil then downing it without breaking eye contact(edited)
His about section is written in 3 different types of code and it's all in owo if you manage to crack it
i love demise|!izuku as a youtube cryptid
Clown Speak and OwO speak mixed together
I feel like in the beginning Izuku was this obscure YouTuber that you only find out about if someone in the know tells you about it until a bigger YouTuber found him out on a deep dive video and just couldn't stop watching yes
i imagine once he gets big people from react channel would invite him to react to videos of people reacting to his videos 
What if in one of his videos he started acting like his old self just to freak everyone out. He didn't say anything about it instead he talked about hero analysis with a bright smile and trail off into muttering a few times only to blush when he realized it. He have his hair in a ponytail with only bangs framing his face and some messy pieces falling out. Also her be wearing something plain but like old Izuku, maybe hero merch or something. The comment section was just people flipping out and shit
He never acknowledges the video after he made it
No matter how many comments he gets he acts like it doesn't exist
omg you know wha tthat would actually allign with the demise and canon swap places for a da
yand you know what that gives me a lot of feels
the millions of subscribers get to see the old izuku
Maybe after a milestone he would post a video he made in middle school of him analyzing a quirk in video format to make sure it wouldn't get destroyed
And he put a couple videos of younger him after it
But it starts being supporting Izuku
And his present and past self and stuff
PEOPLE MAKE FAN ART first Its all full of trash and memes
What if that picture of canon Izuku meeting demise Izuku was a fan art someone made of his old self meeting the new him 
Kids from his class kinda Piecing together they really screwed up?Some even sending in apologies, perhaps
For mental health day I could see him posting a serious video about what he went through and his time in the mental hospital 
And on national stop bullying day he would talk about his decade of abuse including the details of how the school and teachers fucked up and everything aboutbakugou
izuku using youtrube for shitposting and advocating
And for mothers day he features both Rei and Inko?
Endeavor exposure video
What if Rei helped edit or something?To help pass the time for her
Give her something to do
People love the mysterious editor
I feel like villains watch his content like maybe Dabi
rei and fuyumi sometimes make appearances
Dabi just shows up in the videos
Quickly become faves
I feel like Dabi would become a fan and start crying after seeing his mom happy in one of Izuku's videos
"...and this is rei, my hospital mom and this if fuyumi, her daughter so like my sister she helps me keep my shit together and sometimes gives me quil.." 
dabi crying from seeing his mom happy in some lunatic's youtube videos
“...and this is shin, dont let the looks deceive you this man went to jail"
Shin comes in and covers the cameras a lot
FATHERS DAY IS A PICTURE OF TRASH BANDIT WITH HIS DADS VOICE SCRAMBLED OVER IT
“and this is the local florida woman and her alligator
WHAT IF BNHA VERSE HAD QUIRKLESS AWARENESS WEEKizuku would go ape shit during that week
"who needs a quirk when my dad gave me a gun!"
He would give axe sharpening tips
"Remember kids! Society won't help you, so you gotta help yourself!"
he would make 'how to cook videos' except it would only be quil combos
What if one day he just put quil in the ovenand pulled out a muffin
Remeber, don't try this at home kids." makes A horrifying quil combo "rememer never ever do this even if you have a quirk that allows it." downs the horror concoction
"so today were gonna do my boyriend does my makeup challange and since both me and tenya are dumb and know nothing i borrowed my mums makeup..." 
It’s a given he’s gonna do makeup tutorials. The real question is would they be good or absolutely horrendous?
good or horrendous? Both
Amazing makeup at horrendous things? Hmmm interesting
“Hey guys today I’m turning myself into a real like eldrich abomination with the help of eyeliner and glitter!”
izuku has a whole playlist of videos dedicated to tenya and UA
theyre all jsut shitposty compilations of some footage when tenya isnt looking
Even tho it looks like he couldn't give a fuck he is very selective with which footage makes it online. He's very careful at how much is revealed and makes sure no students or secret identities would be in danger with his content
izuku isnt stupid...hes jsut having a good time
Sneaking into UA highschool by hiding in pro hero eraserhead's sleeping bag | NOT CLICKBAIT
Izuku would totally play carefree and childish games while just being Izuku
Like his animal crossing series
Fucking legendary on his channel in terms of gaming
izuku's sims lets play
it's like a 10 generation long telenovela lowkey based off the todoroki family
He has no straight sims, he recreated UA and class 1a in sims
the wedding of sim izuku and sim tenya is like the biggest party in the sim neighbourhood
He creates endeavor just to lock him in a room with 50 ovens
Omg his draw my life has got to be super depressing
He'd be super blunt and monotone during his whole draw my life going through all of the abuse and bullying that he went through because of his quirklessness and also his suicide attempt and all that jazz(edited) 
izuku would paint on a potato
Izuku would make a get ready with me where he does something totally batshit crazy then ends it with "Ah. Yet another day in my life."
Izuku meets Marie Kondo
“Only keep what brings you joy”
“Well this gun from my father sure brings me joy”
Knifemaking videos but with axes
Izuku decided to do a wardrobe tour and like 4 things were bloodstained which he never addressed. The most popular comment was what happened, which of course he never answered.
Izuku does these new year (like all of the questions from last year) or milestone Q+A’s/AMA's which are basically people just asking a bunch of the things he wouldn't answer or address before. A lot of his viewers write down and timestamp when he does something and doesn't address it. If you don't you'll never hear an answer.
He has his boonk gang phrase which is probably like Bandit gang or some shit like that, which he shouts while breaking into places. UA dorm rooms, UA facility office, UA, Hero Agency’s, Endeavour's bedroom (Don't ask), etc. 
He has a variety of videos where he does things from different communities. For example he has a few hair tutorial and following hair tutorial videos. Same for makeup.I feel like Izuku would also have some dresses and slutty Halloween costumes that be put on in a video all while looking like someone who just had finals and was studying for 4 days straight beforehand.
At like 4AM a thought hit Izuku to have Trash Bandit meet Kouta for the first time and learn what his sheep talks about and what he has to say. Needless to say he took his camera, went to UA, stormed the dorms, went up to the shy kid sheep in hand, looked him dead in the eye, and asked “What is my sheep saying.” bandit speaks and Kouta goes from confused and slightly scared to disgusted and horrified. What did Bandit say? Who the fuck knows…
Izuku loves analysis and while he doesn't do it for heroes anymore when he misses it too much sometimes he does it with tv shows or other things.
Idk what yet but Izuku is weirdly good at something and only showed it on camera once. (He's casually known to be a good artist) Whatever he's good at he did it once for a video and it's in one of the most popular compilation videos of him. 15 minutes of Izuku being a cinnamon roll.
Izuku has a shit ton of videos featuring the UA kids. He has some playlists dedicated to certain ones even if all you see is the back of their head.
Any proceeds Izuku manages to get (he is popular but he gets demonetized a lot) goes to different charities for the quirkless.
He made only 1 serious cooking video on his birthday, but instead of using a knife he used an axe.
He has a video called “My sharp things (tour)” where he just shows off all of his knives and axes and shit along with a massive pair of scissors he got Momo to make.
Izuku makes videos of himself destroying endeavor merch while staring at the camera.
408 notes · View notes
cake-writes · 5 years
Text
Lifeline (Part Two)
Pairings: Rebekah x Reader // eventual Elijah x Reader // eventual Kol x Reader // eventual Klaus x Reader (it’s gonna be a literal train wreck, folks)
Chapter Warnings: Alcohol Abuse / Alcoholism, Mental Health Issues, 18+
Lifeline Master List  //  Spotify Playlist
When you woke the following afternoon, you felt like you’d been hit by a truck. You couldn’t remember a thing from the day before, not where you’d gone, nor what you’d done or even how you’d ended up back in your own bed. Judging by the fresh tracks on your forearm, you’d shot up again. That wasn’t a surprise. It certainly made sense that you couldn’t remember.
The real mystery was how you’d ended up with some random guy’s suit jacket. When you checked the label, you found that it was an Armani. Jesus, the thing was worth more than your rent. Holding it up to your nose, you inhaled, taking in the oddly comforting scent of cologne. The smell unfortunately didn’t spark a single memory, but for the first time in years, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest.
You felt hope.
The feeling was short-lived, however, because once night fell, you needed another fix. This time it wasn’t because you were miserable – mentally, anyway – but because your body was a complete wreck. The winter weather certainly didn’t help at all, the cold thoroughly seeping into your bones as you walked along Bourbon Street to your favourite nightclub, The Room, to score. You'd tried to resist the temptation, but predictably you failed.
You’d dressed more appropriately tonight, with a black beanie atop your head and a warm leather jacket wrapped around your body. Some part of you must have recalled that you’d been freezing cold last night. It was a mere scrap of memory compared to the events that must have unfolded, but maybe in time you’d remember more.
A sudden call of your name caught your attention, and you looked over to see your good friend Josh waving at you from across the street. After checking both ways, you crossed over to say hello. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen him last, but that wasn’t really unusual. He liked to party just as much as you did.
“How are things?” you asked him with a grin, holding out your hand for a fist bump.
“Oh, you know, the usual.” He bumped your fist with his, and then you both made an exploding motion paired with some ridiculous sound effects like you always did. Laughing at how stupid you both were, he added, “Hey, you seem good. Ish.”
You shrugged, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Yeah, things are looking up for me. I must've gotten some last night.”
Josh gave you a mock-surprised expression. “Oh? Do tell.”
You shook your head, smiling, and held out your crooked elbow to him. You’d both been heading in the same direction, so it made sense to walk together. “You know I’d give you all the dirty details if I could remember.”
He snorted, linking his arm in yours as you started to walk. “Wish I could say I don’t get it, but, well, you know me.”
That was when you remembered the expensive suit jacket you’d forgotten at home, the only link to your activities the night before, and you mentally cursed. You’d been planning to pawn it tonight for some extra cash. Oh well, you could just do it tomorrow. Now that Josh was here, you knew he'd cover you for the evening and to further satisfy his curiosity, you offered him the only detail you knew about your mysterious would-be lover: “He wears a suit. Armani. It’s weird, right?”
“Definitely weird,” Josh agreed. “Not your type at all.” Even weirder was the fact that some guy who could afford Armani would be interested in you, the junkie that you were, but neither you nor Josh touched on that. Instead, he ventured, “What are your plans for tonight? The Room?”
You frowned. “Am I that obvious?”
He knew as well as you did that The Room was one of the best places in town to get a fix, and he gave you a look – the look. It was Josh’s signature judgemental look that you absolutely despised. “You’re kind of… fidgety.”
Josh’s observation caught you off-guard. You hadn’t realised it at all. A quick look down at yourself confirmed that your fingers weren’t in your pockets anymore, but toying absently with the zipper of your jacket.
“I’m doing okay,” you reassured him, sticking your hands back into your pockets. “Just jonesing a little.”
“You’ve gotta stop with that shit. Just drink yourself to death like I do.”
“I would,” you mused thoughtfully, “Except I’m broke, and alcohol is even more expensive than my, uh... hobby.”
“But safer,” he reminded you. “Not a whole lot, but still. I worry.”
“I’m fine,” you told him again, a bit more defensively this time, and you winced at how harshly it came out. Maybe he was right, that you did need to stop. The Room was just up ahead, now, so you suggested, “Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll think about it.”
Josh rolled his eyes as you entered the nightclub together. He'd heard your promises before.
This time, however, you actually meant it.
A few hours passed and you were absolutely trashed. Whatever plans Josh must have had – if any – had disappeared in favour of partying with you like old times. You both drank so much that anything else just went down like water, and thankfully it distracted you from your next fix.
Now it was around three in the morning, and the two of you were stumbling down Bourbon Street again. Upon leaving The Room, you’d first been considering a pub crawl, but you were both pretty wasted so instead you went to a nearby park to cool off.
“Hey,” Josh slurred, flopping down on a park bench. “Why do you do it?”
You half-stumbled, half-fell down into the empty spot next to him, and somehow your head came to rest in his lap. You peered up at him suspiciously. “Do what?”
“Shoot up.” When he felt you stiffen, he asked lightly, “Isn’t this fun enough?”
Feeling defensive, you pulled up your sleeve to show him the red welts on your arm. “What, this doesn’t look fun to you?”
Josh frowned at your tone, eyeing the marks for a moment before he gave you a concerned look. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Sure, it does." You dropped your arms back onto your stomach. “But the rush… It’s so good, Josh. It makes me feel alive.”
Josh studied your face for another moment before he shrugged. “Okay. Your funeral.”
"Ha, maybe.”
A couple of minutes passed in silence as you both looked up at the dark sky. The moon was still so full and bright, and the stars glimmered beautifully. It was unfortunate that thick, fluffy clouds obscured a large portion of them tonight; it looked like it might rain. You hated the rain.
“Wanna see something cool?”
At Josh's sudden question, your eyes shifted from the moon to his face, and your brows furrowed when he bit into his wrist. “What are you—”
Then he pushed his wrist against your mouth, and you couldn’t help but cough down a couple mouthfuls of his blood, unable to push him away. He was too strong, not quite the Josh you knew.
In an instant, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and your entire body began to flush and tingle. When he pulled his wrist away, you sputtered angrily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “What the hell was that?”  
He gave you a sheepish grin and nodded to your arm. “Look.”
You watched as the red marks on your forearm began to slowly heal, and then they faded into nothing, leaving clear, unblemished skin behind. First, you rubbed your eyes blearily, thinking that you might have been hallucinating; but when your arm stayed fully healed you realised that it wasn’t a hallucination.
That was when you shot straight up off of the bench, screeching, “What the fuck, Josh?”
“Surprise,” he said, holding his hands up defensively, like you were about to hit him.
Predictably, you shoved him hard in the chest, slamming him into the backrest of the bench as you hissed, “When were you turned?”
“When—holy shit, you know?”
Crossing your arms, you let out an irritated sigh. “It’s kind of hard not to know when you’ve got witchy friends in the Quarter. They're all basically under house arrest, thanks to your kind.”
"Yeah, no, that's got nothing to do with me." At your skeptical look, he added, "Promise.”
You eyed him for another moment, and when you decided that he was being honest, you slowly, hesitantly took a seat next to him again. Your body was tense as you sat yourself on the edge of the bench, this time, ready to run at a moment's notice.  
"Things were already pretty bad by the time I was…" He paused and shook his head. "It's been pretty lonely, you know? I miss the sunlight."
"No wonder you're so pale," you teased. When he gave you a sad smile, you bumped his shoulder with yours. "Some of them can go out during the day, right? So why don't you?"
"They've all got daylight rings. Gotta be high up on the food chain to get one."
You made a soft sound of acknowledgement, before a drop of rain landed on your cheek.
"Of course it's raining," you grumbled, getting back onto your feet. Well, this conversation had been enlightening - and sobering. Another drop landed on your forehead, and you offered Josh your hand. "I'll see what I can do."
When he took your hand, you pulled him up. He held onto your hand for a moment longer than necessary, and gave you a wary look. "Be careful, okay? Don't get yourself killed."
You grinned. "Hey, you know me."
Josh grimaced, slinging a casual arm around your shoulders as the pair of you left the park and took cover under a shop awning. That was the problem – he did know you, and you were anything but careful.
50 notes · View notes