#ah anyways here's stuff for Daybreak

[ladye-zelda]

Welp, since today's Blorbo of the Week is Daybreak, here's a few things about him:

He was actually born in Ordon Village. His parents moved there to avoid a conflict happening in Hyrule; they enjoyed the peaceful life so much they never went back.

Daybreak's father, whose name was Colin, was a knight and earned his reputation as a "hero" by protecting them from certain outside dangers; he taught the village everything from sword-making to even defending the village in which Rusl was his apprentice and inevitably became Daybreak's godfather when he was born).

Colin died a little after Daybreak's birth, followed suit by his mother (from an illness that wiped out half of the village) when he was only a toddler; that was when Rusl took him in and raised him as his own.

Appearance-wise, Daybreak gets the Harry Potter treatment by inheriting his father's looks, except for his eyes. His hair is black, his eyes a piercing blue inherited from a certain ancestor of his (hm... no clue who he could be).

Although he was a little rambunctious as a child, sometimes running away into the nearby woods to avoid his responsibilities, he eventually straightened out when he had an encounter with some monsters (but somehow saved thanks to a mysterious man in armor, but disappeared before Daybreak could ask who he was). Since then he did what he was told, especially when he became an older brother to Rusl's first son (who Rusl named after Daybreak's father to keep his memory alive).

Oh; Daybreak and Ilia were also very much chaos kids and would always get in trouble (until they both grew out of it eventually of course).

The adventure happens yada yada; something that I will point out is that he doesn't get the green sheen to his hair or his facial markings until after Zant curses him and the Master Sword restores him back to his true state. Speaking of the facial markings, they're often mistaken for scars by strangers.

And yes, Daybreak eventually falls for Midna. He does hesitate on telling his feelings for her (because they were so busy saving the world), so it is too late when her true form is revealed and she does go back to the Twilight Realm.

After the adventure is over, he returns to Ordon Village only for it to not feel the same for him like it had before his adventure, so after a short while he packs up his stuff and lives out in a cabin on the borders of both Hyrule and Ordon.

So no one noticed when a mysterious man in a mask approaches him... and takes him for another adventure.

[johnbrand]

The Basement

With @next-pharaoh

“Richie?” Billy called out into the hazy basement. “Richie, are you down here?”

Billy had never thought of Richie as a religious kind-of-guy, nor a Muslim for that matter. What other reason would he have had to come down into the creepy, old mosque? Heck, Richie’s whole family was Catholic, the stereotypical devout Latin family. Billy’s too, although of a Polish heritage instead. That was probably why they had always gotten along so well–they could bond through trauma.

“Richie?” Billy asked once more. The basement was rather small, just a single room with a twin mattress, a few sheets, and a tiny window shining the bare minimum amount of sunlight into the space. The place was covered in dust, something Billy unfortunately had not noticed until he had patted down his all-black outfit, surprised to find it covered in the pale powder.

“Alright, that’s it,” Billy grumbled. “I can’t even get reception down here anyway.”

That was how this had all started. Billy had received an emergency text with a location from Richie that he had been locked and needed help. However, that text had taken over 24 hours to deliver. Billy had rushed over here as fast as he could, but now he could not find Richie anywhere. Perplexed, he made his way back to the basement’s door, not expecting to find it locked.

“No…” Billy spoke to no one in particular. “No, no no!”

Frantically, Billy pulled at the handle, hoping, praying that it would come off. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, it would not budge. It was times like these that he wished he would have participated in some athletics throughout his schooling career, rather than focusing on communications and the arts. 

“Hello!” Billy shouted, banging on the door. “Can anyone hear me?!” He grabbed his phone and quickly sent out a text to his friend, not surprised when it was unable to go through. Backing away from the door, Billy began to consider what he could do. Someone would have to find him eventually, right? Phones had tracking devices, so it would not take long before people questioned where he was. And the window, maybe from there he could-

“Oh-!” Clumsily, Billy fell back onto the twin bed, so preoccupied in his thoughts that he had not paid attention to his footing. The dust flew up in a cloud around him, slowly cascading over his body. The particles coated his sandy-colored hair and fair skin as if he had been hit by a bag of flour. A bit embarrassed, Billy coughed, inhaling some of the dust.

“Gosh, what is this stuff…?” Billy questioned, his head suddenly a bit dizzy. “Is it…powdered salt…?”

Slowly, Billy’s body fell back onto bed, an encroaching weariness enveloping him. Within moments, he was fast asleep while the dust began carefully absorbing into his being.

———

Rashid unlocked the door to the mosque’s basement. He already possessed the keys to the lock, and he knew not to reopen the door until at least daybreak. Well, at least not while the current convert is awake. It was necessary for Rashid to go in while the convert was resting to provide the necessary materials.

“Ah, I see you are awake,” the strong, proud Muslim announced in Arabic as he swung open the door. “And already studying the analysis of the Hadith book I provided you with.” 

“Yes, thank you brother,” the reply came back, also in Arabic.

“Do the pants fit you alright, Bilal?” Rashid asked. 

“They will carry the load.” With his massive hand, Bilal cupped his mighty Arab meat to emphasize his point. Rashid took a once over of Bilal, taking in the bronzed alpha and confirming the dimensions he had hypothesized in his head. Bilal was tall, muscular, a perfect specimen of Islamic masculinity. His chest would ideally slide into the thobe Rashid had ordered for him, and his wide feet would easily fill the Nike sandals Rashid had set aside.

“Now Bilal, are you ready to promote the genetic Arabization of the world?” Rashid demanded. “To defend Arab interests, to sacrifice individuality for global brotherhood?”

Bilal immediately nodded, his fate had already been sealed.

Rashid smiled, “I assume you have already left your past behind?”

Smirking, Bilal motioned his head towards the drying white splurge behind him. By the afternoon, it would become just another part of the basement’s transformative dust.

With a nod, Rashid ushered Bilal up, and the two made their way out of the basement and back into the mosque. They prayed together, feasted together, and were preparing to leave the mosque just as a frightened Asian-American boy rushed past them.

“Billy? Billy!” His shouts echoed throughout the hall as he dashed into the religious hallways. Rashid and Bilal exchanged knowing smiles. They held hands and bid farewell, the keys transferring between their hands.

[gardensofthemoon]

OMG 7 FROM THE KISS PROMPT FOR CHENGXIAN IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY!!!?!?!?! 🫶🫶

7 - to shut them up. prompt list here

Spring arrives in Yunmeng. Mornings are marked by the call of magpies; the hatchlings cry their hunger, cry when their parents are away, ask for their mother with sorrow tinged in the almost metallic rasp of their song. And as the wind breezes through the branches, it sometimes carries the tentative sound of a dizi joining in the melody. Jiang Cheng listens with a hook in his heart, and when the flute notes turn faint he closes the door.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t make his appearance for the rest of the day. It’s become a habit. Probably lazing around in some back-alley tavern drinking until he drops—Jiang Cheng swallows back the river of hurt. Who has the time for self-indulgent misery anyway.

Building back the sect takes up all his energy these days. Unlike the war when he’d been high-strung and brimming with adrenaline, sleeping lightly and always prepared for another attack, barely eating unless sweet-talked into it by jiejie, his days are cluttered with mundane tasks from daybreak till nightfall. Overseeing training, solving petty disputes with the neighbouring sects, negotiating trade contracts, worrying where he’d produce the funds to repair the eastern docks collapsed after a flood. Without the golden core singing-spinning inside him—and what a wonder, to have it restored by Baoshan Sanren even stronger than before—he doesn’t know how he’d manage.

His back aches after spending the afternoon responding to Sect Leader Yao’s countless letters. He thinks the sun is setting soon, drowning slowly in the lotus lake.

He comes—bursts in the office as the golden light limns his eyes in red. “Jiang Cheng!”

Wei Wuxian assails him with cold fingers grazing his cheeks. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, you’re fine, thank fuck.”

He tries to push Wei Wuxian’s hands away. “Now you deign to come home?”

He’s ignored. Wei Wuxian charts his face with frantic hands. “I dreamt you were dead, I was so afraid.” His eyes are deep wells of shivering darkness.

“Dreamt?” Jiang Cheng feels a sudden spike of bitter anger. Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to notice it.

“Fell asleep on a rooftop, you know, the wine Auntie Liu sells is some of the best stuff around.”

It’s Jiang Cheng’s fault for holding out hope that Wei Wuxian will honour his promise. Sometimes he wonders if Wei Wuxian even remembers, then chides himself for being so needy he clings to words that had no meaning behind them but a momentary comfort, when clearly Wei Wuxian can’t be bothered to be by his side and would rather be running around and away. And who wouldn’t.

“Shidi, don’t be mad,” Wei Wuxian drawls, rubbing the furrow between Jiang Cheng’s brows, “next time I’ll bring you a jar. Two, even! How does that sound?”

Like hell, that’s how. Wei Wuxian’s promises sink into him like stones at the bottom of a lake, gathering heavy in his pit.

“The fuck’s wrong with you,” he grumbles. Winces at the harshness in his voice—he doesn’t mean it, not like this, not when Wei Wuxian acts so different and he doesn’t know what’s wrong or how to help him—

Wei Wuxian stills. His smile is watery. Carefully, he releases Jiang Cheng; the absence of his touch feels like ghostly fingers caressing his face. “Nothing’s wrong, Jiang Cheng,” he says tiredly. “Just—bored. Of this. Of everything.”

“That’s not—” Jiang Cheng grabs his wrist before Wei Wuxian can retreat—run. “Do you know how you make me look, skipping your duties to fuck off somewhere else? Bored?”

Wei Wuxian’s gaze trembles, mists, then he rolls his eyes. “Not this again. Gonna go if you’re in a mood.”

“Wei Wuxian!” With each attempt to get closer, Wei Wuxian slips through his fingers, a silvery eel sliding through clear waters. “Just tell me—you’re not yourself,” he tries, “and I need to know, you have to tell me—”

Whatever else he wants to say is swallowed up by Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Warm, desperate, still tasting of cheap alcohol. Wei Wuxian cups a hand on his nape, thumb stroking his cheek, and he makes a—sound, like a whimper. “Aw, shidi,” Wei Wuxian says, and his breath brushes against Jiang Cheng’s lips, now swollen with want, “you talk too much.”

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes.

[an-aroaces-harem]

Ivy Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I just deepl and google translated my way through this because I wanted to know what’s going on, so there are definitely mistakes but I believe I managed the general gist of the story. Anyway, it’s just a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes. Morganatic Idol belongs to Cybird and ABC Frontier, Inc.

--My first weekend in the apartment was a wild one.

(The concert, the launch, and the outing with Ivy-san. It was like an out-of-this-world event.)

Monday morning at daybreak. I get ready to go to work and enter the living room to see ...

All the members were there.

Rina: Good morning.

Ivy: Good morning, Kawanaga-san. You're going to the office now?

Rina: Yes. You all ...

Finn: We've just had a lesson.

Jace: It's been a hard morning of choreography, and I'm exhausted~

Xeno: What are you talking about? Don't make a sound like this.

Hugh: ... was fun.

Despite their slight banter, exe shows no signs of fatigue from practice or the recent concert.

(As on would expect from a company with such an overcrowded schedule.)

Ivy: Ah, Kawanaga-san.

Ivy: Eito told me that the weekend show and the official distribution of the show were very well received.

Ivy: There's a special feeling that's different from broadcasting a program.

Jace: This is Aegis-chan's accomplishment, isn't it?

Rina: No, not at all. It was because of your excellent performance.

Finn: Well, yes, but I think you did a good job.

Hugh: Dance was easy to see ...

Jace: Even Xeno recognized you.

Xeno: I just said it wasn't bad tact.

Rina: Oh, thank you very much, everyone ...!

The gazes of the members are warmer than when I first came here.

(This was thanks to Ivy-san's recommendation to help with the live show.)

When I looked up at him with gratitude, he noticed my gaze and smiled at me.

Ivy: I'm happy for you, Kawanaga-san.

Rina: Thanks!

(Ivy-san has helped me a lot since day one. He helped me yesterday and even gave me a present.)

(You're a real sweetheart ...)

Ivy: You did a great job. Be confident and keep up the good work.

Rina: Yes, thank you very much, Ivy-san.

(I've been encouraged so much. I'll work harder for my presentation!)

I got into the mood and left the apartment to go to work myself.

The atmosphere in the company remains the same.

Mori Eiko: Kawanaga-san, put this data together. We'll need it this afternoon, so hurry up.

A document is placed in front of me.

Female Employee 1: And this script too.

Female Employee 2: And get me the other items on the list.

Mori Eiko: You can do it, can't you? All you're doing is easy stuff.

Female Employee 1: You have to do a lot of things to buy your way out of responsibility.

The words of Mori-san and the others prick me to the core. In fact, I feel like their words are getting tougher and harsher every day.

And then ...

Yamauchi Kota: Oh, come on, you can't just leave it all up to her, can you?

Yamauchi-san, a male employee of the department who was standing nearby, intervened, perhaps unable to see the piles of materials.

Yamauchi Kota: Are you okay? I'm free right now. Let me help you.

Rina: Thank you, Yamauchi-san, but I'm fine.

Yamauchi Kota: Eh?

When I replied with a smile, Yamauchi-san, Mori-san and the others looked at me in surprise.

(I would've been depressed before ...)

What comes to mind are the words and smiles of Ivy-san.

--flashback--

Ivy: Good luck to you too.

--flashback end--

(I can't let this get me down!)

Rina: I'll put them together as soon as I can. Please wait a moment while I compile them.

Mori Eiko: I'm telling you, don't neglect your other work.

Rina: Of course. I'll have it done by the end of the day.

I set to work at a furious pace.

Mori Eiko: Something's off ...

I was so motivated that I didn't mind the coughing.

I was able to complete my work without overtime for the work I was assigned to do.

(Next is housekeeping. Let's do this job well too.)

Today, the exe members have their own jobs and have not yet returned home.

Only Sakura-san was home before me, but he seemed to have been locked in his room for work.

The cleaning was completed smoothly, the tools were put away, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

(I'm done with work, I'll go to my room and look up exe ...)

That's what I think.

Hitaki: Hey, you're here too.

Hitaki-san from Gem appeared in the living room.

Rina: Hitaki-san, you're here.

Hitaki: I was in the training room until now because I finished work early.

Hitaki: By the way, I heard about M-fest. Apparently, you played a very active role as a staff member.

Rina: Ah no, no. I was just doing my job.

Hitaki: Eito-san also complimented you on how well it went.

Hitaki: I've never worked behind the scenes of a live before, but you did a great job.

Rina: T-thank you ...

Hitaki-san's straightforward compliment made me feel embarrassed but happy.

Hitaki: That was a little surprising. But also interesting ...

While staring at me, Hitaki-san caughed quietly to himself.

(Hm? What did he just say? I didn't quite catch it ...)

Hitaki: I've been meaning to apologize to you. I'm sorry about the other day. Miu was rude.

Hitaki: Dazed and distracted, dull ...

I think he is referring to the night when Ivy-san recoomended me to help with the distribution.

(Sure, Miu-san said some harsh things to me with a smile ...)

Rina: I don't care anymore. Besides, there's no need for you to apologize.

Hitaki: I'm the leader. If a team member does something, it's my responsibility.

Hitaki: I'll let them know that they won't say anything bad to you from now on.

Hitaki-san smiled calmly, as if to reassure me. I could see the sense of responsibility that comes with being a leader.

(Miu-san is a bit mysterious, and Nagi-san is a bit scary ... I thought Gem's members had strong habits.)

(But Hitaki-san might be a nice and kind person.)

Hitaki: You said you wanted to know more about exe. How was it seeing them live and up close?

Rina: Of course it was great! Everything was so powerful, the singing, the dancing, the direction, everything was outstanding ...

Rina: The performance was so outstanding that even an amateur like me could understand it.

Hitaki: I saw the video of the distribution, and I thought it was great, if a little frustrating for Gem.

(But ...)

What comes to mind is that strange feeling I had when I saw Ivy-san on stage.

(Yes, it was nice, but Ivy-san was different at that time.)

In a sense, it may be natural that their stage appearance is different from their everyday appearance.

But I think that feeling was different from that.

I don't know what it is, but it has always stuck with me.

Then, there was a flurry of footsteps.

Sakura Eito: Kawanaga-chan and Hitaki? That's a rare combination.

It was Sakura-san who appeared.

Hitaki: We ran into each other by chance and had a little chat.

Hitaki: What's going on, by the way? You seem upset.

Rina: What's wrong?

Sakura Eito: I had to confirm something with Ivy at work.

Sakura Eito: I need to see the paperwork by tomorrow but ... he'll be up all night in the recording studio tonight.

Sakura Eito: I thought I'd ask someone to deliver it to the studio for me.

Hitaki: I see. That's what you meant.

(Ivy-san, it must be tough to work all night.)

Sakura Eito: But at a time like this, none of the staff would catch on.

Sakura Eito: I don't have time to deliver it, and I was going to look for someone.

I called out to Sakura-san when I saw him in trouble.

Rina: Um, Sakura-san. If you don't mind ...

... a few dozen minutes later.

I was visiting the recording studio where Ivy-san was working on behalf of Sakura-san.

Ivy-san lowered his eyebrows, feeling sorry when he saw me working alone in the studio.

Ivy: Eito called me just now. I'm sorry to have bothered you.

Ivy: It's not at all nice of Eito to send you out here so late at night ...

Rina: No, I said I'd go.

Sakura-san was rather reluctant to take the risk because it was late at night, but in the end he said he'd take care of it.

(I bet he was really full of work.)

(And HItaki-san was also concerned and offered to accompany me.)

I was grateful, but declined, as I felt bad that he still had more training to.

Rina: It's not that far away, so it's okay. Beisdes ...

Rina: I was also curious to know how you were doing, Ivy-san. I was told it would take all night.

Ivy: Oh well ... thank you for your concern.

Ivy: I'm sorry but thank you for your help. Both Eito and I have a lot to do tonight.

Ivy: I think that's why I've been working so hard to get the job done.

Ivy-san laughed.

Rina: It sounds like a lot of work. Can I ask you what you were doing?

Ivy: Yeah, I was working on the next new song.

Rina: What already? You just released a new song a couple of weeks ago.

Ivy: Well, we might be the ones who have a quick release span, but we've got a lot of tie-ups.

Ivy: I can't help but match it.

(exe ... but that would be a lot of work. It's a constant songwriting process.)

Looking at the desk where Ivy-san was sitting, there were writing utensils, notebooks, music equipment, and other miscellaneous items on it.

It was as if I could see his struggle as a composer.

Rina: Ivy-san is terrific.

Ivy: Eh?

Rina: Not only is he an idol, he can also write such great songs.

Rina: The song you performed at the concert the other night is getting a lot of play.

Rina: I think it's really great to be recognized by so many people like that.

exe is, after all, a group of people each of whom has great abilities.

Seeing them live made me understand them better.

Rina: I'm looking forward to your next song.

Ivy: Thank you, Kawanaga-san.

Ivy: Next song too, huh?

He smiled ... but his smile was different.

Ivy-san ...? What's going on?

Somewhat tired and sad.

I gasped when I saw Ivy-san's shadow for the first time ...

⤷ next chapter

[dansedan]

digging through stuff to submit to a writing contest, so here are two original short stories written about a year apart which I’m still generally proud of!

That Which Flesh Is Heir To

Death

The word seemed funny, coming out of her dainty mouth. She seemed too small, her voice too high-pitched in attempted formality. Her German thick with effort. It was one of the major themes of religious art across Europe at the time, she said. She waved her thin arms around her with every word, a little too excitedly, as if using a conductor’s meter to elicit some response from our group. Fear of death was useful to the church: for the sake of convincing the uneducated masses to maintain faith, and to benefit from the guilt of nobles, since their main role then was still in warfare.

Our class was moving on, the teacher rounding up stragglers and signaling the entrance to the next hall. It was filled with statues and paintings and marble, floor to ceiling wrapped in colors much like this one. My feet refused to obey her order, standing instead unflinchingly in front of the statue. In front of her. I couldn’t bear to move my gaze from the figure’s eyes, blank and hollow, despairing. The world blurred around the single point of bitter fate ensconced in marble.

Do you want to see something interesting? I hadn’t expected her to address me. She had moved now- we were side by side- giving off warmth from the proximity of her bare shoulders to my arm. I forced myself to nod, and felt a movement, something stiff and hot against my ear- something plastic. I like to listen to it, sometimes, she was saying, so close to me. It reminds me of this statue. Her fingers brushed the shell of my ear. It was Mozart, and the soft wailing choral voices seemed to echo my emotions as her fingers wilted back into her hand and away from me.

We stood there for a moment, lost in the crowd of museumgoers. An island in their midst, and in that second all I could think was do not let this go. This feeling, this fire in the pit of your stomach, this hollow feeling in your chest that’s rising to your head do not let this go. The violins and chorus and the marble. The cherubs in the vaulted ceiling smiling down with knowing, cruel smiles. Her collarbone and silver band across her chest do not let them go. The chatter of the crowd- Italian and Spanish and Croatian or Dutch. Do not let them go. Not for one second of your life. Do not forget this.

And I felt her press into my side, and touch my shoulder gently. She was whispering into my chest it’s alright, let it out it’s alright I’ve done it too. It’s helped me too, I’ve done it too let it out. I’ve cried here too, I’ve done this too. I feel it too. And as she held me I was shaking. Please do not forget this. Do not let this go.

All that flesh makes willing

Our affair was brief- I was a tourist- but she was beautiful, and cold only in the literal sense common for women of her stature. A thin white thing, like the marble she’d been surrounded with at work. Chestnut hair draped across her shoulders, to the collarbone- I’d never till then comprehended why dress codes, in my country, called to cover the collarbone. I could (and often did) end up staring at her for hours, willing her to be my muse, to make me make something, but she was so pragmatic that she often ended all of these discussions by smiling (I could hear it in her voice, the smiling) and requesting some menial favor. “could you please buy cigarettes”, or  “pass me the salt-shaker”, or “isn’t it late now?”, anything. But she was beautiful, so I did it for her, anyhow.  And so it happened that by the end of the three months stay I’d agreed upon with my agent for the residence the only thing I’d made from her was a larger pile of laundry and a couple embarrassing purchases- underwear, linens, whatever. And even in the final moments, at the train station, she only smiled and said good-bye and told me not to drift off when I was travelling alone, that the front of the train was still dangerous. And she smiled small and nodded sternly as she walked away, foot over unbearable foot blending together in an undulating gesture. And I stood there, dumb and half-blind (the irony) with agony but not saying anything, and eventually I checked my watch and it said it was midnight when I’d almost missed my ticket and got stranded (sometimes I wish I’d allowed that, then. Walked back to her apartment and killed her with kisses, refused to leave. But I was too pragmatic and my rent was due a couple days and I never understood how visas worked) and I made it in by running and forsook her wisdom, sleeping straight to Britain with only a couple minutes of half-lucid awareness where I denied wet towels and assistance transferring train cars.

It was only several months later that I let myself remember her, thick on the tail of another woman as I usually was, reminiscing my journeys from that summer until I suddenly stumbled upon those moments where we’d pressed together, where her smallness met the empty vast of my own hollowed chest and we breathed light the night into the daybreak. And at this memory I at once ached, and softly sighed around my daily life for days again without reprieve, reprimanding myself for forgetting her so quickly, as one does when stirred from sleep when dreams handcrafted by your mind so soon escape you. When the London rain was blue and humid bog-warm I would pace around the city with my coat on wandering. As if I could find her this way somehow. After weeks then I resolved I’d make her- as I was still convinced she had been my muse then- and conscripted through some not insignificant haggling the help of a dear friend to trot to the museum one brief moment to peruse their own swathe of Roman marble as material.

“So you bedded some Italian and now you can’t get over it- what’s with the statues?”

“We met at the museum”

“’The Museum’,” she said mockingly. “You were in Italy, Eva, which bloody museum?”

“The statue-room at the Uffizi”

“there’s more than-“

“she’s the guide there- speaks ten languages. She’s so clever…” I wondered ‘round the room. Bright blue walls surrounded the bright stone figures, seeming almost like a classroom round. “She was beautiful, Hannah.”

She stood still by the entrance- we were alone, and it was all quite quiet, a weekday near the start of June drew little people here. For a few tentative steps, her boots clacked loudly on the tile.

“…how did you meet her anyway?”

“Well, she’s the tour guide.”

“Well most people don’t shag the tour guide, genius.”

We were standing, shoulder-shoulder facing Venus in the corner of the rounded hall. Rather striking, must be- pair of stone-hard lezzies facing just that goddess. Hannah’s fuzz-buzz haircut and her stiff-wool coverall next to my own shaggy hair and rounded shades indoors. My sight-cane stuck to my Martens, clacking with my tics and movements (base-floor-base-floor-base-floor-base-floor).

“Well there was this pair of wrestlers, and I suppose she pegged me just the type then, looking at them close.”

“ah. Gotta love the Romans.”  

“She’s so clever. Did you know she knew the story behind all the statues even, all about the burial sites and everything?”

“M’pretty sure they’re trained to do that”

“but she was clever. She’s really clever.”

“Jolly good then.”

I had to turn then- same comforting brown-orange smudge of longtime friendship as was usual- grab at her elbows till we were close enough to see the limits of her own round ruddy face.

“Hannah dear, I think I love her.”

“I think you’re spitting on me, Eva.” And she grabbed my shoulders playfully and pinched them tight within her plush palms. “and that you probably need to shag someone else and get back on your medicine.”

“you don’t get it, she was beautiful. She was-“ and here I very grandly gestured to the marble next to us, taking a risk and hoping we were still next to the Venus somehow since I’d lost my footing on how many steps inside I’d taken (and taking a risk that I’d maybe slap a piece of ancient history in the process). “prettier than this one, even.”

And Hannah was silent, because she knew better than to mention my blindness, and I dreaded to feel her being right about something I felt so strongly on.

“you don’t…her collarbone- she’s just. So pretty, so-” I hate my blubbering- this small pathetic schoolchild voice I make all suddenly- but soon her arm was back on my shoulder and she was moving close so I could see orange and grey in us fuzzing together, feel her strong arm on my back and nape. And she said “ alright, I believe you”  and “let’s just get you home now”  and we did, gone on the underground riding all the way together although she lived in Surrey and was supposedly only visiting for the day, and she sat in my apartment with the kettle on while I dragged a canvas out of the storage and started glopping color on it, thinking of the nearness of her face in the warm green summer nights of Florence then. Until I tired myself out at night and we just sat still staring at the wall with it, sharing cups of lukewarm grocery-bag tea with no sugar in and staring, staring, staring long and hard and in remembrance. And I wasn’t sure if that’s what she looked like because it had been so long and such a distance. And I felt then perhaps her smile sounded different to the painting, but Hannah spoke after a while of silence saying, “beautiful she is, then.” And that moment I felt fine and shut the door again on feelings- like at the train station back then- and melted into the naked brown of my friend’s shoulder, soft and dark and oaken-sure. And I willed me to forget myself.

[harringtonheartache]

Daybreak | Part Six

Part Seven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part six of this fic. What will the two do with a morning void of urgency? Did someone say... breakfast in bed? 

Word Count: 2,200 +

Warning(s): Mild cussing

A/N: Ch-chapter six anyone? Is anyone still here? Sorry for the wait. It becomes obvious in this chapter that I changed the timeline of events as they happen in the show, although I assume this isn’t much of a shock considering the fic’s entire concept derails from the show’s plot. Enjoy (-:

Awakening from sleep was more gentle the second morning without Steve’s clumsy efforts in getting ready for school filling the room with noise. Because of this lack of the boy’s undeniably loud movement, however, when she awoke, Nine sat up to make sure he was still there. And he was. He still laid facing her on the floor, only now his eyes were closed, his mouth was slightly agape, and his hair had been thrown over his face at some point in the night. The blanket he had taken from his closet fell from its place against his shoulders and now wrapped itself loosely around his waist, just as much a victim of his sleepy tosses and turns as his hair had been. 

It was now raining, too. Lightly pattering against the roof, nice background noise it made. Nine let him sleep, and let herself observe him in such a tender state for a moment before falling back against the mattress to focus her vision on the ceiling. She happily welcomed the serene environment brought to the bedroom by the soft beam of light leaking through the curtains (and right across the patch of floor Steve laid across, but he didn’t notice) and the sleepy boy sprawled out across the floor. It was a kind of morning she favored over those she was used to. 

After ten or so minutes passed, Steve stirred awake, and sat up himself to see the girl lying calmly on her back in his bed. One of his eyes was still closed, as he could only adjust them to the light one at a time. “What time is it?” he asked, and her head popped up from against the pillow she was laying on. His one opened eye found the clock sitting on his nightstand and he answered the question for himself. “Ah,” he groaned, reaching to rub the eye he had yet to fully open. “I didn’t mean to sleep this late, I’m sorry. Have you been up long?” His voice was hoarse but still warmly familiar. 

Her response was soft but audible in the relaxed air of the bedroom. “No,” she said, sitting up on her elbows. He let himself fall back against the floor as she had against the mattress, closing both eyes again yet still awake. “That’s good”. 

He sat up again a few moments later, deciding that he was ready to wake up completely. Nine graduated from leaning against her elbows to sitting cross-legged when Steve stood up altogether, his blanket now falling to the ground as he did so. “I uh-” he began a sentence briefly before starting it over again. He ran a hand lazily through his hair as he spoke, taming it a little. “I’ll be right back, you can just stay here”. With that, he left the room, pulling the door almost shut (but not completely) as he did so. Slightly unsettled by this detail (but trustful), Nine stayed where she was as Steve told her she could. 

More time passed before he returned than she was comfortable with, but he did return nonetheless. He struggled, three plates of food balancing in his grip as he softly opened the door with a push of his foot. One plate almost fell from his hand as he entered, and a “shit” succeeded in falling from his mouth. He set the food down on his dresser, turning to Nine after he slid the last one atop the wooden surface. “I- uh,” he started his speech the same way he had earlier. “My parents aren’t home or anything, but I thought we could eat in here anyway. Like a breakfast in bed kinda thing, maybe? I mean it’s only toast, and some fruit - we don’t have much - and I might have burnt some of the toast, but-” 

His words were hurried, trying his best to communicate his intentions. Nine cut him off from his explanatory ramblings. “Yeah,” she said. “Breakfast in bed”. 

He smiled at her agreement, offering an airy “okay,” as he did so. He gathered the plates again, and she smoothed out the comforter in front of her. Steve set the plates on top one by one, then proceed to climb on the bed himself, the food now sitting between them like a picnic spread. “Again, it's not the greatest breakfast-” he started but was unable to finish. “Steve,” she stopped him. “It’s great. Thank you”. She smiled again, reaching to pluck a strawberry from the bowl sitting (slightly tilted, but not enough to spill) on the bed.

He grinned with a content sigh, deciding to take her word for it this time that she was okay with his perhaps mediocre preparations. His arm crossed with her’s as he reached for a piece of darkened toast. Biting into it, a loud crunch rang in the air as a few crumbs dropped from the bread. They both laughed before he spoke. “It’s not as bad as it sounds”. Depositing the calyx of her finished strawberry on the edge of her reserved plate, she now took her own piece of toast. She held it up, tapping it against Steve’s in a silent ‘cheers’. 

“So what do you want to do today?” Steve asked, breaking the not-so-silence of their toast chewing. Nine held a hand out underneath her mouth as she took a bite, catching crumbs from falling to the bed. She swallowed before speaking, and it gave her time to think. “Do you think-” she hesitated to voice her desires. “Do you think we can just stay here today?”.

“Yeah!” Steve’s voice was muffled behind his piece of toast as he took another bite. He was quick to answer, realizing the poor timing of his eating. “Yeah, we don’t have to go anywhere today,” he reassured her. “Do you want to watch movies? Have you seen-” he stopped himself this time, quick to pick up on his own mistake. “Wait, no you probably haven’t. That’s okay, I can show you all the best ones”. Another genuine smile flourished on her face. “Or I’m sure we have some games or something we can play,” he introduced another suggestion to the conversation. He felt responsible to entertain her, unaware that she was fully content with just about any activity (or lack thereof) she ended up participating in on this stay-at-home day, no matter the mundane normalcy. She was ready to experience such a thing for the first time. 

---

The two now shared the responsibility of carrying the plates, walking downstairs beside one another to put them in the kitchen. She handed hers to Steve and he placed it in the sink, then turning on his heels to lean against the counter as he faced her. “So, wanna see what movies we have?” he asked with a grin. He too was excited to spend the day leisurely, just the two of them with nothing existential to worry about. She gave him a happy nod, about to add speech to her response but the sound of a doorbell cut her short. She flinched. He did too.

She looked to the door. He did too. 

Turning his head away from the entryway that had stolen his attention away from Nine, he spoke up. “Hey,” he said gingerly, trying to break her worried gaze from the door as well with his calm reassurance. “I’ll just shoo em’ away. Then we can pick out a movie, okay?” he asked, raising both of his brows to give her a look of sincere consolation. She nodded again, but this time with hesitance. 

She chose a more concealed hiding spot than last time, ducking behind the kitchen island rather than only standing out of view. Steve opened the door, and she heard him sigh from her place in the other room. “Dustin? Really, again? Look, you know I love hanging out with you little dude, but I’m kinda busy right now”. Steve said to the boy. Nine stood from her spot but kept her feet in place, not as nervous about being seen considering that it was only Dustin. “Steve, this is important I-” he started to explain his position, why it was that he has appeared at Steve’s door for the second day in a row, but he wasn’t given enough time to squeeze out his reasoning. “Dustin, I know, I bet it is. I just can’t help you out today, okay? I have some important stuff going on, I-” Dustin interrupted him this time. “Steve-” 

“I’m sorry! I am, just- another day, okay?” 

“Steve!”

“What?!”

“Will’s missing!”

The shouting stopped with Dustin’s last sentence, Steve gone silent and Nine even rounding the corner, now insistent on joining the conversation despite it requiring her presence being known. “What?” Steve’s voice faded to that of a more benevolent tone. His hand dropped from its place against the open door, meeting his side to parallel the other. Nine’s face was decorated with worry. She remembered Will, ‘the smallest one’ in Steve’s words. She was present now besides Steve, but Dustin’s eyes were still trained on the tallest figure in the doorway. 

“What do you mean he’s missing?” Steve continued.

“Will is missing. Gone. Not here. We don’t know where he is.”

“That’s impossible, I dropped him off at his house last night. I watched him go inside. Where could he have gone?”

“I don’t know, but he wasn’t there in the morning,” 

Nine gives the hem of Steve’s shirt a gentle tug. It’s so gentle that she has to do it a second time with a little more force for the action to register to him. He tilts his head down to meet her eye, and she can see that his are filled with a very distinguishable concern. They falter for a moment, as if the realization of her presence momentarily shocked him out of it, but then the worry floods right back in. He gives her a questioning look rather than asking her what she wishes to tell him. Maybe he’s adopting some of her non-verbal cues. She doesn’t respond, but her eyes stare back at him wildly. They hold that same concern that Steve’s do, but there's a twinge of something else in there too. 

She gives her eyebrows a quick raise and tugs on his shirt for a third time. His gaze drifts to her hand that held the fabric of his shirt, then, as if someone pressed ‘resume’, he stepped to the side to allow her a more private word with him. She speaks in a hushed tone, and Dustin remains where he is. He watches them, only now realizing for himself that she hadn’t been there when Steve opened the door. 

“I can help,” she tells him. His shirt was still gripped between her forefinger and thumb, but neither of them noticed. Steve’s eyes remained the same, but his head tilted in confusion and his mouth twitched as it prepared words. “What do you mean you can help him?” he started with the only logical question. “Do you know where he is? Will?” he said. “No,” she spoke softer than he did. “But I can-” her fingers finally let go of his shirt and found those of her other hand as they intertwined nervously. “I think I can find him, maybe”. 

“What does that mean?” Steve asked another logical question.

“I can sometimes… see people. You just have to trust me.” Now his eyes changed; they got even wider. His voice got quieter, too. “You can see people? What the hell does-” She gave him another look, one that stopped him from finishing his sentence. “Powers - yup. Okay, got it.” 

He now stole a look at Dustin, who still stood in the doorway, as he had not invited himself inside. “How do you-” he started, looking back to Nine now. “How does this work? Where should we go? I don’t know how to keep Dustin out of this,” he rambled quietly. 

She looked over to him now too, noticing that he was wearing the same hat that was on top of his head yesterday. An unimportant detail, but for some reason it occurred to her anyways. He was a young kid, in middle school most likely (not that she would know that). She could tell he was fairly young though, and this alone was a comfort. Perhaps it stemmed from her upbringing. She had never trusted an adult, had yet to come across one that she could. She hadn’t seen much of other kids either (as she was more familiar with seclusion), but those she had managed to interact with at the lab, even if just for a minute or two, had been the only people she felt remotely comfortable with. There was a bond between them that manifested naturally. Shared trauma was powerful.

Dustin - all five-foot-three of him - was not an adult, and this was incentive to trust him in Nine’s eyes. She wasn’t very familiar with him, or trust as a concept in the first place, but there was one person who was the exception to both of those shortcomings. 

“Do you trust him?” she whispered, turning to face Steve after a pondering look to the doorway. She trusted Steve, and his approval of Dustin would be enough for her to grant him her own as well. Steve’s arms were crossed now, one hand grasping loosely onto his bicep. He had initiated this movement at some point in the conversation, perhaps when Nine’s grip had left his shirt. He nodded his head intensely. “Yeah! Totally, I mean he’s young, but he can keep a secret. Plus, he’s smart too. He’s got wisdom beyond his years... somehow,” he spoke.

She eyed him with sincerity. “Good. We’re going to need his help too”.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tag List: @ggclarissa @hyp-oh-critical @orchideax @we-are-band-sexuals @cpt-lamby @l0ve-0f-my-life @girlyisthatweirdkid  @easyvtohat @ireallylikerugby​ 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers 2.I (Josh Wheeler xF!Reader)

A/N: SURPRISE!! Who’s ready for season 2? Dunno how long this will be but I expect you enjoy it! -Danny

Words: 1,492

Warnings: Swearing

First Season // Next Chapter

[First scene, random Glendale street.]

The place is silent, not a Ghoulie in sight. Some mutant squirrels rummage through the garbage, they're starving. Not much has changed in Glendale since Principal Burr was defeated, not on the exterior at least. But we're about to see the real deal: A sound grows stronger in the distance. The squirrels look up, trying to locate the rumbling noise. Then, almost as if she materialized out of thin air, we see our protagonist skate at full speed out of the nearest alley, living her best life.

"Wooooo!" She gives a sharp turn in order to follow the main street, the squirrels scatter in outrage, abandoning their meal. Y/N doesn't notice.

The camera follows her for most of her trip, we see the empty houses as she passes without a second glance, a small group of stores and a garage that looks battered. She also glances at the abandoned private school, a slight frown appears on her face as she thinks to catch some shadow figure in one of the windows, but she doesn't stop to check.

[Time-skip]

We see her approach a group of kids around her age wearing some kind of armor. They look like trouble, but as she gets closer they receive her as another member of the group, even though she clearly doesn't look like one of them.

Y/N smiles and replies to every single one of their greetings as she skates through, she seems to have done this before.

Once in front of her old highschool her demeanor changes. She clears her throat and one hand blindly looks for the knife she keeps on her hip just in case. She walks inside.

Y/N keeps going, the kids that spot her wave and act as friendly as the ones outside, but now Y/N's nervousness has increased and as she gets closer to the biology classroom, she starts to get more and more serious.

The door is right there, and she's about to face her destiny. She opens the door and walks inside, a quiet 'Hi' makes its way out as the door closes behind her.

On the tempered glass of the door that moments ago was completely blank, now we find the title of our series:

Starcrossed Losers- Season Two.

[Queue voice-over]

Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

To be honest, I kind of wish you had. If that were the case, then it would've meant the rest of my untold story was my happy ending, regardless of what Sam had chosen to do with hers. It could've meant that there were no problems on sight and that Josh and I were destined to end together.

But you're here, and my story isn't over.

I'll take a wild guess and assume you want to know exactly how long and how many things have happened since the last time we talked. Well, it's been about what, five days? Yeah, a week tops since we defeated Burr and Sam took her rightful place -it was rightful, not gonna deny that- and us? Well, we hang in there.

Where do I start? Ah, of course, perhaps you'd like to know why I'm at the Highschool instead of the mall, that's easy.

After the small fight we had, the tribes' relationships kind of got ruined. It's hard to explain, but what happened was what always happens when some leader gets dethroned. In this case, this leader being Turbo, got kicked out and many kids thought it would be fun to throw their shot and try and do the same to Sam Dean, however, they weren't counting on how fucking sick her adviser is, this being Maya.

We Daybreakers knew, though. So we kept it to ourselves as we collected food and supplies, and now we're back in business. Everyone has their place, their part to play. Right now, I'm playing mine.

Apparently, people think I'm likable and social as well as creative and good-natured, so naturally, I had to be in a position where I get to convince leaders of other tribes to leave us alone. We trade things, usually clothing or Angelica's bright ideas, or- well, our medical supplies.

But the fucking jocks, dude. It's Maya's fault of course, I've been trying to make a deal for ages and they keep refusing all my offers because they insist is not enough. Because she insists is not enough, and Sam just agrees with her. I don't know what her plan is, but it certainly is my personal fucking hell.

So that's the reason I'm here, a new offer in my hands in hopes that I'll be able to go back to the mall with good news.

"Hi, Y/N," Sam smiles at me as if she hasn't turned down four of my offers already, "what do you have for us today?"

"Well," I rummage through the papers in my backpack, finding the notebook that contains all the deals I've made with all the tribes, "since you're not interested in the food or the medical supplies- without mentioning that your kids aren't interested in wearing something else besides their sports clothing-"

"It's comfortable," Mona replies dryly.

"...Sure," I sigh, "anyway, since none of those things are enough, I thought you might find the new update a bit more appealing."

Sam raises a brow, her smile unwavering.

"Go ahead."

"We finally managed to get the projectors working back in the movie theater," I say proudly, "and -word of the wise- Finders keepers. The cinema belongs to us."

"No way!" Sam says excitedly, straightening up in her chair.

"Yes," I admit, my tone unchanging, "we could allow you to use two rooms twice a week, as long as you stay away from our mall and our kids, obviously."

Sam bites her lip, though this time I'm a bit more certain she'll accept. No kid could ever deny to their tribe two nights at the movies. Bless Angelica and KJ for fixing the projectors and making the place run on solar panels.

Sam turns to look at Maya, who is lazily reading a magazine in the corner of the room. What an asshole. She raises her eyes with a careless stare, shrugging.

"We already have the American thingy going on-"

"But the movies, Maya!" Sam insists, "This could be good for the boys, it'd be a different way to deal with their emotions apart from the killing and the violence!"

Maya frowns, my smile remains the same cause now I know there's no excuse she can find to refuse our offer. I mean, it's the movies, who would say no to the movies?

"I suppose the food would be given by you?" She looks at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry?"

"The food, in the cinema?" She smirks. "We can't watch movies without food, that's what psychos do."

I clench my teeth, of course she was going to say that. She knows I can't just say yes, I can't give away things that are so valuable.

"I... could talk it over with the people in charge of the theater, see what we can do. We don't have that much food to give away, you know? I have to think of my tribe first."

Maya sneers at me but talks to Sam instead.

"You're the Queen," Maya replies, "it's up to you"

She sends a single deathly look in my direction before going back to her magazine. I look back at Sam and Mona, expectant. Sam stands up and holds out her hand for me to shake, I happily oblige, relieved about not having to come back here tomorrow.

"Oh! We do have a small petition, though," Sam adds once I let go of her hand.

I hold my breath, waiting for the worst.

"Yes?"

"It's nothing bad," She assures me. "We're doing a book of tribes here, for the future generations? And to keep things in order as well."

"That sounds... actually kinda cool. What is it about?"

"We send one of our boys to your tribe and you give them a little recap about who the leader is and what is it that you do, or if you have subdivisions and stuff. That way, if outsiders visit our city and want to stay, they can read the book and decide which tribes they want to apply to. You're allowed to say no, though. You're not obliged to appear in it, but we just thought it could be useful, and a nice way to create a legacy."

"That's so sweet," I beam at her, "you know, you really are a good leader"

"I try to be," She smiles.

"I'll talk about it with my tribe and I'll make sure to send our reply by the end of the week, is that cool?"

"Sure," Sam sits back. "Have a nice day, Y/N."

"Bye!"

I'm afraid to say it, but perhaps... things are going well?

God, I hope I'm not wrong.

Taglist.

@letsbe-queer​ @slythermyg​ @loving-u-3000​

A/N: Dunno when will I post the next part, but I figure I’ll give you guys time to tell me whether if you still want to be part of the taglist (or if you want to be added, pls let me know!) 

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 99

Intervention

Summary: In which Ephemer has a bad feeling about this. Word Count: 1,733 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

He never thought he'd see the day when he'd run out of places to hide. And of course Anora was the reason behind it too.

Curse her.

But not too much; he still wanted her to live a long, healthy life.

If only he was made to live the life of a hermit. Then he could just play stakeout in his room until classes started back up. When the first Vulpes and Leopardus cross house class happened, he'd just pretend to be sick. It was a brilliant plan. But Ephemer was not made to be a hermit. He could barely sit down at his desk to play solitaire without tapping his foot on the ground. Everyone knew this, and so now everyone was trying to corner him.

Not that he could confirm that they were. It was just this feeling that he got, like when Skuld was acting odd during the spring play. It was a secret superpower that he held on to with a tight righteousness. Rest assured, this feeling that something was wrong was an absolute curse too. He didn’t know where, or how, or even when something would happen. He just knew that it was due to happen soon.

Ephemer had been so on edge that when he tried to eat lunch, he almost couldn’t. Who, in the name of the Nine Old Men, decided to put raspberries in the fruit parfait this week?

“Mind if I sit with you?”

Brought out of his thoughts by the prudent voice, Ephemer looked up to see Sabrina casting a rather hard expression at him. The young man shook his head, gesturing for her to sit across from him. Sabrina did so before looking over at his tray.

“You gonna eat that?” she asked. “I skipped breakfast this morning.”

“You can have it.” he said as he shoved the tray her way. “I’m not hungry.”

“Thanks.” the girl replied before starting to pick at the food. Ephemer didn’t know what else to do but to watch her. Eventually, after taking a sip of milk, Sabrina asked him, “So, what did you do during break?”

She sounded like she really didn’t want to know, honestly. But Ephemer told her anyway. As Sabrina continued to make her way through the food, the two of them had simple conversations about their breaks. Her answers back to him consisted of only one or two sentences- if Ephemer’s level of suspicion wasn’t already raised, it would have been.

“This is the most we've talked in awhile.” he pointed out. “Is something wrong?”

For this, Sabrina gave him a small half shrug. “I was just told to distract you.” she callously told him. “Something about getting you to talk to your girlfriend.”

Something in Ephemer froze. “I don't have a girlfriend.” he told her- his voice wavering for a moment.

The ten year old cocked an eyebrow at him. “You mean that pink haired chick you keep trying to avoid isn't your girlfriend?”

Ephemer almost let out a sharp gasp in surprise. This was it. This was what he was so afraid of- someone, somewhere, was staging an intervention.

“I think Ven was supposed to help, since this seems like a Dandelion thing.” the girl went on as if she couldn't detect Ephemer's worrying. “But Brain said he wanted to let me help. Something about 'you could be a good spy if you wanted to' or some dumb thing like that.”

“Sabrina,” Ephemer then said, “I-I have to go. I don’t think I’m, uh, feeling very well.”

The girl looked at him and simply let him go as Ephemer dashed out of the cafeteria. Letting out a hard sigh, Sabrina dug for her phone and started to pull up a number that was just added to her contacts this morning. She barely had to wait for someone to pick up.

“Hey Brainiac, I messed up the mission. Huh? Where was he heading? Hmm… About the direction of the dorms. Yep, any time.”

With that, the girl hung up her phone and continued to eat the rest of the lunch she stole from Ephemer. She didn’t know what he was running from, but he definitely wasn’t going to win that battle today.

. . .

Ephemer nearly cursed when he saw Lauriam and Strelitzia heading his way. By the time his brain registered that he needed to walk in the opposite direction, the two siblings were already close enough to take him by the elbow. In fact, they did just that as Lauriam cheerfully greeted him.

“Ah Ephemer, it’s such a shame that we haven’t been able to meet since Strelitzia and I came back to campus. How have you been?”

“I…” Ephemer faltered. He took quick glances between the brother and sister. They were in on it. He could tell by that equal look in their eyes. “I was just going for a walk.”

“So were we.” Lauriam agreed with a calm nod. “Come, let us walk over to the main building. I heard they set up a display on the main floor to welcome everyone back.”

Even if Ephemer had tried to protest, it would have been futile. The grip Lauriam had on his elbow was unsurprising, but it was Strelitzia -who took to wrapping her whole arm around his elbow- that had a surprising amount of strength to her. Ephemer didn’t have a choice as the two guided him into the main building. Turns out, they hadn’t been lying when they said the main floor had been decorated. How did he not notice that before?

Not that it mattered- he needed to find a way out of Strelitzia’s grasp. But how?

“Hey, Strelitzia,” Ephemer casually tried to say as the three of them were looking over some of the art students' work, “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s more stuff on display upstairs, do you?”

Strelitzia let out a little hum in thought. She gave Lauriam a small glance- when her brother gave her a nod, she let out another agreeing hum. “I think so.” she said. “Would you like to go check?”

Ephemer gave her a quick nod. “Yes please.”

It physically hurt to watch as Strelitzia tilted her head from side to side- as if she were deciding to kidnap Ephemer instead.

“Alright,” she finally agreed, much to Ephemer’s relief, “Go see if there’s more to the display upstairs. Lauriam and I will remain here.”

“Thanks Zee, you’re the best.” Ephemer said as she let go of his arm. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as a distraction before he quickly dashed up the staircase.

Strelitzia was bashful for all of a moment before remembering the mission. She turned to Lauriam and said, “Quick, call Brain.”

“Already on it.” her brother affirmed- his phone already up to his ear as it rang over. When Brain picked up on the other end, Lauriam didn’t waste any time in filling him in. “He’s going up the stairs now. Tell Skuld to be prepared. Of course. We’ll be on standby if anything rises. Not a problem.”

“Well?” Strelitzia asked as Lauriam put down his phone. He looked at her with a particularly cunning grin.

“It’s all up to Skuld now.”

. . .

Ephemer did curse when he almost ran into Skuld in the hallway. She was standing by the door to one of the homerooms. He hated that he could tell that she had been waiting for him.

“In a hurry?” she teased without skipping a beat.

“Yes.” Ephemer immediately replied. “I mean no! I mean, ack! Just get out of my way Skuld! I don’t have time to play mind games with you today.”

“Why?” his friend challenged. “Need something from the classroom?”

Ephemer had to take the moment to think. The classroom should have been empty still, right? He could hide out in there until everyone decided to get off his case. Maybe it would take a few hours. Or the rest of the afternoon. Or even until classes started back up. He was a flexible guy.

“Yes.” Ephemer decided. “I did a lot of scavenger hunts with myself over break, you see? Turns out I left one of my favorite pencils in there, and I need to get it back before classes start up. So would you please get out of the way?”

“Alright.” Skuld agreed with a shrug. She even opened up the door for him and gestured for him to enter.

“Thanks.” he nodded. It didn’t even hit him that she could have been trying to trick him until the door shut behind him.

Ephemer immediately spun around to try to open the door again. “Why’s the door locked?!” Ephemer wondered out loud in horror.

“That's because we need to talk.”

Every fiber in Ephemer's body froze. He turned toward the teacher's desk to see the seat turn around to face him. Sitting there was Anora.

“H-hey Anora.” he sheepishly greeted. “Long time no see.”

She did not give him an answer. Instead, she quirked an eyebrow at him. With the grace of a figure skater, Anora pulled herself out of her seat and walked toward him. Her arms were folded in front of her chest as she looked right at him. She stopped just short of being within arm's length of Ephemer. A lump formed in Ephemer's throat when he realized he could see the determination in her eyes. Oh blessed Mary Blair, he was weak.

“I...” Ephemer started to croak, but stopped himself. This was a real bad time to admit he still loved her. Wasn't it? This was an intervention, after all. There was no way that this was going to be that easy. It wasn't like she still loved him too. Right?

Right...?

“Ephemer,” Anora finally spoke- her voice low and almost pleading, “I want -need- to talk. And I need you to listen for all of five minutes. Can you do that for me?”

At this point, Ephemer was sure that he was going to have a heart attack or a brain aneurysm. He had no idea what she had planned. But whatever it was, he could tell that it was important. Swallowing back dry saliva, he rasped out a nervous, “S-sure.”

Anora let out a soft sigh. When she looked up at him again, she was ready to tell him her story.

[darkwalk]

Trading Stories

Hey guys. Writing for the Together AU has been hard recently, mostly because there’s a lot of violence in the story (a lot of riots at one point) and it’s pretty hard to write that when there are riots going on in real life. I’m not sure if it’s disrespectful to write about them when they’re happening for real. I also don’t want people to have the impression that I’m encouraging the violence.

At the moment, I’m on the third chapter of the second draft (and wow, my writing is so much better with another draft.) and thought I’d share a part of the rough draft - it’s a conversation I wrote nearly a month ago that will get changed later. 

This seemed a bit relevant for the present time. Warning: Long post, a dead body, and references to violence/class differences.

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Trading looks, the adults sighed but surprisingly, didn't seem upset with Orion. Even the Glitch Mob mech just shook him helm tiredly. Something of Orion's thought process or apprehension must have shown on his face as an older femme chuckled at him. “Aw, don't be like that mech. We ain't gonna bite chou 'cause yer runnin' with Jazz's crews. We already knew yah were with 'em anyway. Yer symbol ain't exactly hidden.”

“I wasn't sure if you would be upset that Jazz hasn't solved all this yet or not. The other gangs seem to be laying all the blame at his pedes.” He admitted, having forgotten the symbol on his shoulder. To be fair, the glow paint barely showed under the dust and grime coating his frame.

A couple people actually snorted at his admission. One gestured broadly, a little wobbly and out of sorts. “They don't get to- get to throw blame when they ain't doin' no better. Honestly, what they gonna do? Only so much you can fight when they're sendin' so many enforcers down here.”

“Could be worse.” Someone added solemnly, making a gesture over their spark.

Several others copied the gesture to ward off bad luck. Another settled morosely against a broken crate piped up. “It ain't ever been this bad before though, has it? They never got down this far.”

“How often do riots like this happen?” Ironhide asked.

Orion glanced at him. He'd have thought the mech would stay quiet to avoid notice but the Ironhide appeared calm. The locals didn't seem to care that he wasn't one of them either. Perhaps being with a mech under Edgerunner protection gained him some leniency. Or the fact that he'd helped save them.

A shaky old mech, unassuming as could be, straightened in the creaky chair he'd snagged and took on a storyteller's voice. “Not as often as you'd think. The worst ones were a real long time ago, back when the Darklight didn't even have a name an' was a lot smaller. The lawmechs didn't like how many of us there were an' how we were growin' so they'd march in to make sure we weren't breakin' the law none. An' if folks got dead or disappeared during that time, well, who were we gonna tell about it?”

Ironhide face shifted, turning from exhaustion to quietly concealed rage as some of the younglings scooted closer to listen in and the old mech continued. “That's why we started buildin' down instead of up. They don't like when they can see how many of us there are. Not that any of us here were around then, ah don't think.” 

He looked around the group with a smirk. A few people chuckled and some of the younglings exaggeratedly shook their helms 'no'. Orion stifled a grin.

“They've only tried barging in a few times, since the beginning.” Sitting with her back to a pole, a larger femme stroked the unconscious face of a mech settled in her lap. Surprisingly, Orion could see wings on her back. They were big enough that she could have been a shuttle and he couldn't help but wonder how a flight frame came to live down here where mostly cargo and racer frames roamed. “I don't think they ever got further than the second level.” She looked at the old mech for confirmation. Grimly, he shook his helm.

“No. They never have.”

“You were in the last one?” The youngling with the missing arm piped up, looking at the big femme. “Mah creator was but he didn't tell meh much an' he's dead now.”

“Hmm,” She shifted to get more comfortable and nodded, “Last one was a good hundred vorns ago or something. Don't rightly remember. But it was way before your time. It was bad but not bad like this 'cause they only did the surface. I know a couple patrols tried coming down here but they didn't make it back up.”

“Anybody remember that goodie shop, on the corner of Hololite Square by Fracture's shop?” Asked the old mech.

A number of sighs answer him. Someone hummed, “Daybreak an' Cinnabar's place?”

“Oooh, I remember them.” The Glitch Mob mech smiles, “They had the best oil cakes around. Even better than anythin’ in Polyhelix.”

A youngling asks,“They're dead?” The little frames had steadily and sneakily gotten closer to the group as the adults talked. Orion noted most had cuts or cracked plating, faces lean and hungry looking. But at the moment, they were distracted by the old stories.

“Yeah, surface level during the last riot.”

“Didn't even fight none.” Growled the flier femme. “Everybody knew those two didn't get involved in no street fights or gangs or nothin'! Weren't their fault they didn't have the creds to get a shop in Polyhelix proper!”

The conversation almost stalled as no one had anything to say to that, so Orion brought up something he'd been wondering. “Is Fracture's place really that popular? A lot of people seem to know him.”

That sent a wave of chuckles around the room. The lounging mech outright laughed, high and sharp. “Darlin', everybody knows Fracture! He's the reason we got crystals growin' outta ever crack, hole in the wall, and even our own platin’ if we don't watch 'im close enough! That mech keeps plantin' seed crystals everywhere.” Orion startled, unsure if the mech was exaggerating or not.

“It's like he's tryin' tah turn this place into a fraggin' garden!” Another moaned.

The old mech snorted. “At least some are edible. Free snacks right there.”

“Yeah, he puts tags by those so folks know if they can eat 'em.” A mech nodded in agreement. “Primus, I love the hematite shavings in plain energon. That's good stuff right there.”

“Reverie.” A younger mech whispered, looking at the old one in the chair. They glanced back at the mech on the floor and the group fell silent as everyone took in the deactivation gray plating. Reverie slowly got out of his chair, joints creaking as he crouched to lay his helm against the downed mech's chest plates. After a moment of waiting, he straightened and shook his helm.

“Yah did a good dance youngling. Safe journeys.” He murmured to the body.

Everyone shifted, mouths thinned back to grim lines. The Glitch Mob mech pursed his lips. “We don't got a name, do we?” When several mechs shook their helms, he added, “Whose got claim to his subspace then?”

Ironhide jerked, turning to stare wide opticked at the mech. All the others around them frowned and looked at Reverie for guidance. It seemed surviving long enough to become old in the Darklight earned one quite a bit of respect, even if they couldn't fight anymore.

Although Orion wouldn't have bet that the old mech couldn't fight. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only one with out any injuries. Everyone from Ironhide to the younglings sported at least minor wounds. Reverie ignored the energon staining his legs as he reached into the dead mech's subspace and started pulling out supplies; mainly normal items like knives, a few guns, a couple cubes of energon, credits and some random shinies.

After a long moment to look it over, he turned to the smallest frames in the room. “Younglings, come 'ere.”

They did not 'come here'. In fact, a few near the edges started inching away, as the entire lot of them scowled mightily and flicked their optics around the room like they’d been setup. Reverie's mouth ticked up in amusement but he gestured again, and moved back a little from the body and the loot. “Come 'ere. You bigger one there, get the guns, Armless gets first dibs on a knife,” Orion tried not to make a sound at the terrible nickname, “an' ya'll share the rest. Especially that energon. 'kay?”

No one seemed to disagree with Reverie's decision, even if a few adults frowned sadly at the energon. They all knew none of them really had a claim to the supplies. So they shifted back out of the way and let the wary younglings inch forward. After grabbing the loot, they skittered back behind the props and eyed the adults while they examined their new treasures.

Reverie chuckled sadly and nodded at one of the other adults and the body. “Help me move him to the side a bit, yeah?”

None of this was out of the ordinary for Darklight folks, as far as Orion was concerned. He'd seen much the same when a few of Tumult's crew had fallen in a shootout during that gang war with the Crowncutters. Supplies couldn't be wasted so they went to whoever the deceased was closest to. In the Edgerunner's case, most had gone back to the gang's general supplies and the personal items to the dead mechs’ friends. He'd gotten the impression though, that this might not be the way people in other places did things, especially from the way Ironhide had startled.

A quick look at the mech gave Orion a sudden feeling of relief. He looked thoughtful, instead of offended and about to say something about it. Perhaps he was learning one couldn't just snap at Darklight people demanding answers to their weird behavior.

He didn't expect the question that came out of the Iaconian's mouth. “You don't consider yerself Polyhexian, do yah?”

The group glanced at each other, surprisingly mellow about the question. Perhaps they'd had enough fighting for the day. Smiling grimly, the shuttle femme answered, “No. Polyhelix don't want us, and never has. Even if they claim this area as part of their city. Why should we call ourselves what we ain't?”

“At least Darklight knows Darklight.” The lounging mech sighed softly. “Even if some of us don't have the accent an' some of us don't have the neon an' glow on our plating.”

“Remember...remember that time, that they tried tah tax us?” The possibly drunk but probably concussed mech snickered.

Someone snorted. “If they wanted tah tax us like Polyhexians they shoulda treated us like Polyhexians. Instead, they built a Primus-damned wall.”

“They actually tried to tax the Darklight?” Orion gaped. “Seriously?!”

One of the femmes laughed, “Yep! It didn't work at all-.”

[arcxnumvitae]

★ fill in the questions as if you are being interviewed for an article and you were your muse.

TAGGED BY:  Stole it

TAGGING: Steal it

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

D: Dawn

C: Cornelius

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

C: Cornelius Edwards

D: I’ve never told you, but actually....

C: Don’t even try.

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT?

D: Kinda self-explanatory I think? ‘Light” 'daybreak' and all that jazz

C: Horn

D: Wh-what?

C: Cornelius means ‘horn’

D: O-oh, that’s a...a nice...

C: You’re obviously laughing

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

C: Oh here we go

D: Taken by an amazing, sweet, thoughtful, wonderful--

C: I’m single

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES?

C: I can type really fast

D: I don’t think that’s what the question is asking

C: Well not all of us can be possessed by a fucking deity

D: Well I’m not anymore! Just a normal human

C: With a sickass streak of hair Like an anime character

D: Wha...?

C: Never mind 

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?

Both: Brown

D: Same shade too

C: Yeah, it’s this thing called ‘genetics’, it’s really wild. Don’t know if they’d discovered genes back in your day but--

D: I’m gonna strangle you

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR?

Both: No 

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

D: The pack!

C: And....?

D: Ah yeah, you too

C: ‘Me too’, ha. As for me, my parents and the other usuals

D: Them too, I guess. Not pleasant people

C: Yeah, fuck them. Sorry about how they treated you, I should have figured--

D: It’s alright, it’s not your fault

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

C: She--

D: Make a joke about the wolves, I dare you

C: Eh.  

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

C: Internet lag

D: Thanatos. Zeus

C: Everything okay over at that house?

D: .... *sighs*

C: If you ever want or need to get away...

D: Yeah, thanks, but I’ve been away from them too long already

C: Okay but the offer’s always available

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?

C: Video games, movies, chilling around

D: Piano, guitar, singing

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

Both: No

D: Well, define ‘hurt’

C: Uh...

D: I mean when I was young I’ve punched some kids who tried to bug me

C: Oh geez

D: 80′s New York, man

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE?

Both: No

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

C: She--

D: Make a wolf joke, I dare you

C: No fun. Anyways, no clue, I don’t spend my time thinking about that kind of stuff

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.

D: I’ve kinda got a mouth on me. Like mouthing off or letting it be known when I don’t like something

C: Sometimes I’m too to the point

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE?

D: Sophia! And my parents

C: My parents as well

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

D: Bi

C: Pan

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

C: Not anymore, thank fuck.

D: Was college that bad?

C: No, but it was a lot of work

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY?

C: Sounds nice I guess but I’m in no rush

D: Huh...

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

D: Something happening to the pack

C: You gave such a serious answer and now I’m going to look silly when I say bugs

D: Wait, really?

C: Yeah, can’t stand the fuckers

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

D: You’re a rich boy but you really don’t dress like it

C: What, want me to wear Gucci? Something nice and name brand?

D: I’m just saying it’d fit!

C: Nah, I’m good

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

D: *blushes*

C: Oh here we go. As for me, nah

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU?

D: Uhhh....middle?

C: I guess ‘high’ technically

D: “Technically’, he says as he sits in his lofty apartment and thinks on the old family manor because he’s old money

C: I mean really, you are too

D: Eh

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

D: The people in the pack but I don’t feel like counting

C: Some from college and work but I also don’t feel like counting

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?

D: It’s good

C: It’s fine

27. FAVORITE DRINK?

C: A nice bourbon. Or sweet tea

D: Peach lemonade. If we’re talking alcohol...I don’t know, something fruity?

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE?

D: The--

C: Pack house, she’ll say. As for me, my apartment. It’s quiet and peaceful

D: There’s always someone around and it feels so homey. Well...it did.

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE?

D: Eheh, yeah

C: Nope

31. WHAT’S YOUR DICK SIZE?

D: ...

C: Fuckin-- who just drops that in out of nowhere? None of your business

32. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?

D: Ocean

C: Neither

D: Nerd

C: Yeah, and?

33. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’?

D: Kind, thoughtful, caring, an awful tease...

C: Those are kinda givens though, yeah? Although I guess, looking at your track record, there’s not a lot else overlapping.

D: Yeah, I guess not

C: As for me... * shrugs *

34. ANY FETISHES?

C: Keep your lips zipped, I don’t want to know what you get down to in your spare time

D: I wasn’t going to say anything anyways!

35. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

C: * sighs*

D: *coughs* Not saying, my business

36. CAMPING, OR INDOORS?

D: Camping, although I’ve never been

C: Indoors please

37. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER?

D: Other than the nosy questions it was fun

C: Yeah, fun

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

dandelion leaders headcanons

it’s partly headcanons, partly random shenanigans. this hiatus can kiss my ass

(key kid) Ven hcs | Ephemera hcs | Skuld hcs | Daybreak Town in winter hcs

Ephemera became leader as a result of a unanimous vote but it took a lot of convincing to get him to accept the role

Skuld: Master Ava said that you’d take over for her, right?

Ephemera: I guess

Ven: it would make sense if you were leader then!

Ephemera: not really?? I mean we’re all more or less here to do the same thing so......

Blaine: didn’t you did get here like way before the rest of us? you probably know this world better than we do

Ephemera: I don’t think such an important decision should be based on punctuality.....

Lauriam: I agree

Lauriam:.........no offence

Skuld and Lauriam are Salt Buds and Team ‘Wears-A-Deadpan-Expression-When-Someone-In-The-Group-Does-Something-Questionable’

Skuld still gets along with Ephemera best though, no matter how much they tease each other for fun

the only time everyone’s in the same room aside from meetings is during breakfast

Ephemera is a good cook (Skuld lets everyone know this quite proudly on day 1, which raises an eyebrow or two) so he tries to take the initiative to make food but everyone kind of just ends up making their own thing unless they ask him for something specific that they can’t make themselves. So basically he just cooks for himself and Ven

it’s near impossible to make Blaine angry because he’s always so laid back about everything but stealing his nail polish (which are all dark colours by the way) is a quick way to do it

Blaine, kicking a door open, startling everyone: Where is it. 

Ven: oh I just borrowed your nail polish!! I was kinda curious about how it would look on me...sorry I didn’t ask, but I didn’t want to wake you 

Blaine: Ah. Alright, everything’s good in the world again. Want me to do it for you?

Ephemera has fallen into the fountain on four separate occasions and it’s one of the few things he absolutely refuses to talk about. Skuld knows about one of those occasions because she was there when it happened. The story can be bribed out of her with an ice cream

Ven has the special skill of being able to make a bad day better without knowing that it was bad in the first place. Usually this involves him saying something completely selfless

Ven’s also a hugger. Since he (secretly) thinks of the other leaders as the older siblings he never had, he gives all of them a goodnight hug every night. Except Lauriam, but that’s only because he’s not a hugger. He gets the friendly wave and smile instead.

(spoilers: this nightly habit carries over to Terra, Aqua and Eraqus)

Ven and Skuld are lefties!!

Blaine got one of his ears pierced as a dare from fellow party members when he just became a Keyblade wielder. He ended up really liking it and decided to get the other one pierced too

Ephemera’s squeamish when it comes to needles and piercings. Skuld’s tried to convince him to get at least one of his ears pierced but he refuses. “Besides...my scarf would get caught on the earrings anyway! Haha...wouldn’t that be unfortunate? SoI’mnevergonnadoitthanksbye.”

Blaine calls Lauriam Mambo No. 5 :) 

Blaine and Lauriam have a funny relationship in general. They’re not quite friends and they don’t quite hate each other but Blaine makes it his personal hobby to get on Lauriam’s nerves as much as possible while they work together to make the Spirits

Ephemera’s literally the worst influence on Ven. Skuld once spotted both of them trying to jump onto the clock tower’s giant pendulum and lost her mind

Ven, holding a newborn Pupstar: He’s beautiful. 

Blaine, doing a dramatic bad boy pose: I made him in my image.

Lauriam starts bringing plants into the tower in an attempt to make the place feel more homey. Eventually he even starts growing stuff like cherry tomatoes and herbs which are really useful

that doesn’t stop everyone from bingeing on junk food all the time though. kids will be kids

Skuld and Blaine: *arguing over something* 

Ephemera: come on guys let’s not start another war

Skuld and Blaine: *stare at him*

Ephemera:.........too soon?

[insomniac-arrest]

Babina Steals a House

genre: original, humor, fairytale

words: 2k

summary:  A young woman steals Baba Yaga's house for tax evasion purposes. The witch is not happy

Like Howl’s Moving castle but with somehow more scoundrels and the same amount of angry witches

Babina Lisitsyn walked into a merchant’s shop, well, she didn’t so much walk as stride in with the confidence of someone hiding a gun up their skirts. Said gun had fallen out at least three paces ago but we give Babina the grace of her own confidence at this point.

“Shopkeep,” Babina put her finger authoritatively in the air, “drop what you’re doing.” Allen the elf was not doing anything, he looks up anyway and regards a very small woman with her curly hair tied up in a red handkerchief. She was pointing at him.

Allen stood behind his counter and regretted not installing that panic button under his desk after the last time he was robbed and they took his good soup spoons. This woman had the same look in her eye. He raised his eyebrows sharply and pushed his more expensive orbs to the side.

“Can I help you?” The words were not said in the tone of someone who wanted to help you.

Babina Lisitsyn was not paying attention to his intonation, she was thinking about whether that thing on the shelf next to the man was a magic wand or a dildo. Regardless of the fact it was both, Babina took a piece of paper out of her pocket and shoved into the air, “is this you?”

Allen gave her a second cool look to top the first one, “from the paper’s classifieds, yes.”

Babina turned the newspaper clipping around and cleared her throat, “Nelaeryn Thoticus of the golden woods?” That was not his name.

“Yes.” She continued reading, “Who provides services in fortune telling, magic bartering, horoscopes, wedding officiating, horse taming, erectile dysfunction-” “That’s my ad, yes.” “And document apostilling.” Babina raises her chin, “right?”

Allen momentarily wishes he was being robbed, “How can I be of service?”

Babina whipped out a second piece of paper, “I need someone to authorize this.” She pushes a yellowing paper across the table, it had a very uneven looking font and some ink splotches.

Allen raised another eyebrow, he only had two but usually, he wished he had more.

“What’s this?” Babina put her hands on her hips, “I thought the classified said you’d sign stuff. No questions.”

He frowns slowly and looks back up, “100 gold coins.”

“Are you fucking,” she tore at her hair.

Allen waits patiently, “Not at the moment.”

“Look,” Babina put her hands in front of her as if to pause everything, “I’m sort of in a situation.” Babina was in several situations, half of a sham marriage and twice as many incidents of food poisoning in a half a dozen villages she visited.

Allen pushed the piece of paper back toward her, “Does that situation involve a 100 gold coins?” Babina felt the need to flip him off and perhaps dig around for her pistol again, but time was a fickle thing that sped on with or without her permission. It did not grant her the luxury of ‘flipping off’ time.

Babina was making a strangling motion to Allen when the door swung open on its hinges and a large black raven swept in. Allen took a step back, he had a strong phobia of birds since one tried to sell him a faux-gold ring last Christmas. And he bought it.

“Get out.”

“Midnight!” Babina threw her hands up, “thank God, we have to do some of that special sexy bartering we talked about.” Allen decided that might be the best time to lean over and read exactly what it is she wanted him to authorize.

He lifted both eyebrows, “Is this a housing agreement?” Babina turns around in place, her large brown skirts fanning out around her, “now you see how serious this is.” Allen narrowed his eyes, “some of this is written in crayon.” “And some blood.” She added brightly. “Alright…”

“Not mine, don’t worry.”

Allen thinks maybe he’ll get that panic button, instead he looks between the two of them, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He started to shoo them, he had to pretend to be an orthopedist at 2 so this was eating up his googling time. “Paying customers only.” Babina made another face at him, “Nelly,” he looked both ways to see who she was talking to, “of the orange woods-” “Golden,” he was actually from San Jose.

“Imma need you to me a big favor,” she jabbed the paper, “And sign this right here. Just on the dotted line, so all our asses are not grass.” “Grass,” he massaged his temple.

“Blasted grass! Grass blasted glass pass.” She shook her fist, “We’re gonna be pounded!” Allen looked at her evenly, “I’m really going to have to ask you to leave.” “That might be hard,” Allen jumps as third voice answers, a hooded dour young man now stood where the raven had once been, Allen grabs at his chest, “Ah!”

The brooding young man had shockingly black hair, a sharp nose, and the air of someone who looked tired enough to easily trade his blood in for expresso, “ma’am,” he nods at the young woman in the handkerchief, “she’s just outside of town.” Babina stuck her bottom lip out, “Soon?” “Three minute give or take.” Babina groaned deeply, “Fiiiiiine.” She picked up her contract, “we’ll blow this joint.” She waves at him, “Sorry your shop might get wrecked, you seem like an asshole, but still.” Babina shrugs and turns toward the door.

Allen’s face goes pale, “Who? Who’s coming?” He looked both ways as his shutters start to bang from a gust of wind. The hairs on Allen’s arm stand on end.

His eyes go wide as he looks back at the girl, “Who’re you?”

Babina turned around and winked, “Babina Sampina.” That was not her name.

The young man tugs on her sleeve, “I’m obligated to tell you that you need to get out of here.” The shutters bang open and shut again, a tremor goes through the floorboards, Allen flinches, he comes out from behind his desk. “Who’s house is it?” He points to the document in her hand. Babina waves over her shoulder, “don’t worry about it.” She opened the door, “unless you wanna do that trade.” He looked both ways, “What trade?” “Just like we talked about,” Babina yells with a flourish as they stand just outside the door. “Midnight, get on your knees.”

Midnight’s face doesn’t change, “I don’t think so.” “Okay,” she recovers, “we’ll stop Baba Yaga from wrecking his town if you sign my papers.”

Allen’s fingers shake, “I’m not actually an actuary.” “Nelly,” Babina says seriously as she walks up to him, “I don’t care.” “Ma’am, we have to leave.”

“One sec,” Allen takes out his pen signs the crayon and blood document, “bam!” She runs out the door, “let’s get running.” Allen takes a step outside the door and is almost blown over, some power was surging through the street, he could feel the electricity pulsing. He gulps and wonders why he didn’t buy the health insurance package that included witches.

Babina on the other hand just felt slightly preoccupied with the wand-dildo problem in her head again, she snaps back to when Midnight is pointing toward the west.

“Right!” She snaps her fingers and a house parked right in front of a small Radio Shack starts to shake. Its front lawn had a stark white fence around it and a pair of thin legs stuck out the bottom as it stood up.

“Baba yaga,” Allen was muttering to himself, wiping his palms down on his turquoise pants, “Baba yaga.” “Come on you old bitty!” Babina was yelling into the wind, her house rumbling as two thin chicken legs lifted it up in one shaking heave. “Do your worst!”

“No!” Allen the elf waved his hands in the air, “Nope, no, none of that.” Babina gave him a thumbs up, “have a little faith.” She squared her shoulders, “I’ve been doing this for like, a week now.”

Allen thinks about his 2 O’clock finding his body, it would not be flattering. He heard the wind whistle in his long ears and several people are peaking out their shop windows. Babina waves at them blithely.

“What did you do?” “Some tax stuff,” Babina says simply, “or at least, that’s what I asked for help with.” She pouts, “and boom, bam, ran away with this house thing.” “It was almost impressive,” Midnight says blankly as he stood off to the side, “if it wasn’t fools luck.” He glances at her morosely, “from a fool.” Babina rolled her eyes, “Go get Red Sun! We gotta be a unified front.” Midnight the dark knight, indebted to the holder of the house for the rest of eternity, grunts heavily. He, as a person, would much rather be a nicely warmed cup of tea at any given moment.

His form starts smoking and a heavy black cloud consumes him, leaving a sleek black bird in his place, it caws sharply.

Allen reaches for him as he spreads his wings, “Don’t leave me with her!”

Midnight was flapping away and Babina was climbing up onto her chicken-legged house that belonged the world’s most powerful grandma.

She was bouncing up and down, “Dawn!” She calls, “daybreak!”

A white cat with black paws steps out to greet her, it had a with a bone in its mouth that once belonged to very unstable goblin, but he was mostly stable now. For a couple reasons, most of which were being dead.

Dawn considered it good luck.

The delicate cat folds into itself, unwinding piece by piece as a young woman with soft white hair materializes, she holds a spear in her hands and smiles widely.

“What a nice day it is!” The knight turned around in loose circles.

“Shut it,” Babina said, “Baba is around the corner.” She beat her chest, “battle up!” Dawn just grinned emptily, “did you get that thing signed that I helped you make?” “Right right!” Babina stood on the top of the chickened-legged house and she pushed the sheet out into the air, “Baba Yaga!”

She faced the end of the wide merchant road.

Allen the elf heard himself scream, something surges around a very sharp corner. A woman, a massive woman. She sat in a mortar and peddled through the air like water using a pestle. Long white hair danced around her sunken face like a tangled storm and her eyes were blazing hot coals. Her outfit was a massive black dress that looked like it was almost living as it writhed around her.

A cackle rumbled through the earth and several shopkeepers stuck their heads out and wished they had panic buttons.

“Little fox,” her voice was thick with dust and a dark hiss that filled the air, “this is the end of the line.” Babina, to her credit, didn’t so much as flinch. She was still thinking about that wand as well as where her pistol had fallen to, she holds up her piece of paper.

“Tough shit,” she widens her stance, “I own this place now. Read the fine print!” Allen groans to himself as the almighty being of wrath and splendor read his name on the paper. He creeps back toward his shop so he could grab anything of more value than his life right now.

He heard more cackling, the witch's eyes grew huge and luminous, “you’re going to taste very good in my next stew little fox.”

“Okay,” she says stiltedly, “but this is legal and you have to listen to the law.” Baba Yaga’s smile widened into a wolf’s maw, “I’ll eat you with bell peppers and onions.” She showed all of her sharp white teeth.

Babina had sense enough to gulp deeply, her thoughts being dragged back to the many objects in her new home that were made of human skin. It was an alarming amount.

“Okay,” she gives a little salute, “that’s...that’s cool.” She turns around in place, “I’m just gonna…” She snaps her fingers again. “See you!”

The chicken legs bend in the middle and Allen’s mouth falls open as the house turns around, Baba Yaga makes a loud hiss.

“Wait,” Allen looks both ways as he weighs his options, “my town.” Babina waved, “I won’t let this place be destroyed!” This wouldn’t be the last town that Babina got destroyed.

He’s about to protest when more movement catches his eye.

Allen watches as a black raven comes diving through the air with a red dog blazing just below him, they come up from behind the witch. He waited for her to easily bat them out of the air but the animals dart right by and dodge her pestle.

The dog jumps ten feet in the air as the house starts to extend its skinny legs, the raven is just behind it. The ground begins to shake and air shimmers with tension.

Allen weighed his options.

“Wait,” Allen’s mouth opens and closes as the wind around him started to pick up, “I’ll come with!” He starts to run, “You owe me a hundred gold coins.” The ground begins to open up and swallow the edge of the town, buildings tumbling in with free falling rubble. Allen runs and manages to grab onto a chick leg before it goes into full gallop. He was going to miss his 2 O’Clock.

Babina herself was going to miss her pistol that had been more for show than use, but she appreciates the idea of it. She stands near her shaking bone fence and wonders if the witch would need a proper bank notice before she let up.

But Babina hated banks.

She looks over her shoulder as Baba Yaga slowly falls behind and far too many people start calling their local lawyers about a massive magic earthquake. Some crazy person had apparently stolen a witch's house.

[a-white-crayon]

Before the Sun Rises

note: this is a feature story assignment for my journalism course

---

The sun had not yet risen, but his day had begun. Under the West Kowloon Corridor and along the Tung Chau Street Temporary Market in Sham Shui Po, Ah Shing dragged his bag of treasures to his spot – the corner around the third column. With trembling hands, he carefully placed the goods onto the tattered green rag. MD players, white trainers that had gone yellow, vinyl discs, chipped crockery, you name it. Those items hardly held any value anyway. It was a couple minutes past five a.m., long before breakfast time.

Yet what would be on his breakfast plate was never Ah Shing’s concern, he didn’t have the privilege to think about that. He was like everybody else here in Sham Shui Po, pockets empty, living off Comprehensive Social Security Assitance (CSSA), and living in public rental housing.

Ah Ho was already there, when Ah Shing had yet reached his usual spot. Her goods were neatly laid out on top of the blue and white striped canvas, which was often used in construction sites. There were bomber jackets, faux leather handbags, blankets, worn out trainers… “It’s all good stuff,” she claimed.

 “Come and take a look,” Ah Ho called at the passers-by. “If the stuff isn’t good I won’t sell it.” She was sitting on a tiny plastic stool, a child’s chair, surrounded by rice cookers, tin plates, teapots, and electric kettles. A few plastic food jars were lying around, the ones with flowers drawn on them. They were popular in the 70s.

“You like that plate? It’s only five dollars.” She was referring to an enamel plate, with the classic blue rim and a red chrysanthemum painted in the middle. It was chipped here and there, but it was decent looking, it would work after a much-needed scrub.

Before the daybreak, there are bazaars in various areas in Hong Kong, selling low-cost, often used wares. Selling goods at grassroot bazaars could provide a supplementary source of money for the poor. Financial assistance such as Old Age Living Allowance, Old Age Allowance, and CSSA from the government could not support their living.

The vendors are usually elderlies, or retired middle-aged people. A lot of them were too old to be in the labour market, they were not as able as young workers and they were seldom hired. Up to 2014, 50.7% of the poor population are elderlies. 97200 out of 366000 people live below the poverty line, making the poverty rate in Sham Shui Po 26.6%. The median of monthly household income was merely $2500.

In April, the Daytime Market Concern Group, Support Grassroot Bazaars Alliance, and Concerning CSSA & Low Income Alliance proposed the operation of trial holiday bazaars at the junction of Sham Shui Po’s Kiu Kang Street and Hai Tan Street. The three organisations had conducted a survey on this subject. Out of 201 people who completed the questionnaire, 168 supported the grassroot bazaars. 104 agreed grassroot bazaars could help the poor vendors to make a living.

Ah Ho is one of the regular vendors, she lives alone in an apartment in a tong lau building nearby. “I have been here for two years,” she said. “No one comes around anymore, and when there is people, they are stingy old bums.”

“What are you looking for? I have everything,” she mumbles whilst staring into the empty space, eyes lacking a focus.

An old man came by, rummaging through the things Ah Ho was selling. “What a nice teddy!” He delightedly opened the box of plush toys. “Of course it’s in good quality, I am selling it for fifty dollars.”

The man hesitated for a moment, worried about the price. “I’m not getting it - unless it’s forty (dollars).”

“This is brand new, I don’t sell brand new toys for forty dollars,” Ah Ho shook her hands, “the best I could offer was forty-eight dollars, deal?”

“Stingy old bum,” She muttered under her breath after the man left with his new purchase, stuffing the money into her hip pack. “People nowadays are always sticking out their hands, asking for more and more, but none is willing to do anything for it!”

“CSSA is not enough! Inflation is so serious, prices aren’t going down,” Ah Ho sighed as she picked at a slightly dented can of sardines.

The grass-root bazaars have existed for more than two decades, yet they had not aroused public interest until the recent years. It had also come to the public’s concern that hawker licenses have not yet been granted to any vendors at grassroot bazaars.

Lee Kwok-kuen, a community organsier at Concerning CSSA & Low Income Alliance, agreed that granting hawker licenses to bazaar vendors would benefit the grass-roots in Sham Shui Po. “More and more young people come to these flea markets to look for vintage treasures. This is a good sign.”

At grassroot bazaars, vendors could do business and shoppers to purchase things they need with a low cost. Licensing allows sustainable development of the hawkers, preserving this unique culture.

The street sleepers had woken. Ten of them gathered in a circle and watched two men play chess. The Vietnamese were up too, chattering in their mother tongue, a foreign language to our ears. Their voices were soft, and coarse due to the years of smoking.

A lantern was placed in the middle of a blue tent, lighting up the tiny space. A short-haired woman squatted outside the tent, bare feet, injecting God-knows-what into her swollen ankle with a syringe that did not look it had been properly cleaned.

The sun had not yet risen.

[darkcloud-kcalifornia]

Man, we’ve been having weird weather the past week.  I mean it’s June but temperatures barely made it into the 70s yesterday, and just a few days before that we actually had a bit of rain.  Of course it’s supposed to get into the triple digits by the end of the week now, which is looking a lot more typical.

Why am I mentioning this?  Well because I’ve run out of clever stuff to say before pony episode reactions.  This time it’s “A Royal Problem”

* Twilight is shocked to find the Map can call for ponies other than the Mane Six.  Which kinda makes me wonder how a pony would react if they got the call and had no idea what the Map even was.  Just one day out of the blue their butt starts ringing them.  Buuuuuut let’s be honest that’s not gonna happen.  Welcome to main cast member status, Starlight.

* She’s being called to the royal castle specifically (though really Twilight there are three of those now, be more specific).  Also, has the Map ever called a single pony before?  I don’t think I recall that.

* Oh, Twilight just mentioned that being a first occurrence.  Carry on, show.

* Yeah, hard to say they never fight considering the whole “Nightmare Moon: thing.

* Luna is not very subtle about... anything really, but her discontent in this particular incident.

* Twilight, no astral projection check ups!  This is Starlight’s assignment.

* Nothing like subjecting protegees to your own neurotic worrywart sessions.  I mean seriously, what’s the worst tha-it’s eternal darkness never mind worry away.

* Huh, Luna handles mornings about as well as I do.  Also, I had no idea Celestia cooked.  Or that she’d give such an over the top mothering reason for it.

* Also, biting into a pineapple like that would probably hurt.

* Oh come on, don’t freak out the guards like that.  Just explain your presence, you’re a royal too.

* You know, willingness to speak truth to divine power might be why the Map sent for Starlight in the first place.

* Somepony get that music box some chill pills.  Seriously, you’re an alicorn too.  You know intimately that does not confer perfection.

* Also, does Twilight only pop in there from time to time, or has she been music boxing it for a whole day now?  If so who’s taking care of her physical body in the meantime?

* It’d probably have been better to try this conversation at some point other than the participants being exhausted.  Still, this does show how offense can arise from people not taking time to appreciate the little things one does.  Little things matter.  Not sure if that’s the moral or not, but it’s a moral.

* Ah, the old “day in the other’s shoes” plot.  And the black splotch is part of the cutie mark?

* Also, it’s nice to see Celestia in a state other than Queenly for once.

* Also also, HOLY CRAP, STARLIGHT JUST SCREWED WITH THE INNERMOST MAGIC OF TWO OF THE MOST POWERFUL BEINGS ON THE PLANET!  COULD SHE HAVE OUTRIGHT TAKEN THEIR MARKS AS WELL?!  STARLIGHT 2 HAX NERF PLZ

* You gonna spend a long time in a cell for this one, Starlight.  Possibly in Tartarus.

* Not gonna blame Twilight for hyperventilating this time.

* Starlight gets to sit on the side of the throne, huh?  Well I for one... question this appointment to the office of Grand Vizier.  She didn’t exactly do a great job governing her town if you ask me.

* How do I scissors?

* Luna gets harsh lessons in top government lever PR.

* Also, just noticed that her magical color is Celestia’s sunny yellow now.  Neat.

* Yeah, this is why subtly is important.  As are intelligence briefings.

* Well at least Luna didn’t screw up the Twon Hall.  Still, lesson from this day: A ruler’s time is not their own.  Now if somebody could please hammer in at least one of the lessons in this episode thus far into the head of that imbecile in the Oval Office- no, no.  I am not going into politics here.

* Smuglestia.  Let’s see how long that lasts.

* And the first problem Celestia encounters is... being an extrovert with nopony to talk to.

* Nice dissolve.

* Right, well, let’s get the Persona 4 reference out of the way: “I am a Shadow, the True Self!”

* So I’m just gonna put this out there.  Evil Celestia is... hot. *ba dum tish*

* “Daybreaker”?  Meh, I give that villain name a 4/10.

* Huh, Shadow Celestia’s got an ego on her.

* Dang it Celestia, don’t deny your Shadow, that just makes it more powerful.

* You know, given the day Luna had a nightmare from her isn’t surprising.  It’s understated, but still bad and creepy.

* “Usually being able to go mad with power is somepony’s pleasant dream.”

* You know, I think that’s the first fight Celestia’s won on this show.

* Luna’s ability to cook is somewhat lacking.  I wonder what she does when she’s peckish at night.

* Wait, did Celestia spend all night on one (OK, two if count Luna’s) dream?  Double wait, the alicorns decide how long night and day are anyway, this could be Luna playing a prank on her.

* And appreciation is had all around.

* I’d say Starlight needs a restraining order, but that might be a bit difficult considering she lives in Twilight’s palace.  Also, pretty sure that’s Spike’s toothbrush.

* That’s the look of a pony who is sick of this routine.

* And last minute buck-passing.  Luna is definitely a night shift worker.

And that’s the episode!  I really liked this one.  I’d have preferred if we could get a Celestia story that actually focuses on Celestia, but this still gave her a decent amount of characterization.  But even beyond that it had some good moments for several characters.  And while yeah, the basic plot of “you think my job is so easy let’s see you do it” is hardly anything new that doesn’t mean it can’t be done well.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Osomatsu-san 17 – 25 | ReLIFE 1

The idea for ReLIFE from now on: Once all 2016 shows are done (rewatches or not), expect the 2016 ranking.

(ep 17)

Apparently Jyushimatsu was pretty popular in Japan, so they went with an entire episode on him…

Cup Noooooooooooodle, LOL.

I didn’t get the Comiket one…both times I saw it.

Oh yeah. This “my little Jyushimatsu” was hella popular after the guitar scene. I think.

Philosophical Jyushimatsu…but it doesn’t work without the volume.

Is Jyushimatsu Pan Jyushimatsu Bread or an actual Jyushimatsu…okay, I know what it is now.

Baseball references galore, so I’ll let this page explain it.

Omohide IIRC is an old fashioned term for omoide (memories).

(ep 18)

Well, it was true that Iyami was the protagonist of the anime in one series, alongside Chibita.

I really don’t want to explain references you probably know, okay?

If you stop at just the right moment (NSFW), it reminds you that “this anime is at your own risk”. There also seem to be comments from most of the other characters, including “fight dayo!”.

Hujistu (sic), LOL.

Three way explosion shot!

Crab shell, LOL. Plus, you’re not, Jyushimatsu.

The phomosis is apparently a piece of skin on the…erhem. Check it up yourself.

Chargin’ my lazor!!! (Once you notice they animated Todo during that lasering, you have to appreciate how much they upped the budget on this…)

Second lazoring!!!

I went back a few times through the ep, only to find Osomatsu’s sign says “Prank successful”.

(ep 19)

If I remember right, the episode was called “Shonosuke Hijirisawa-san” by CR standards, but…there’s no name to this episode for AnimeLab. Update: It’s called “Untitled” by both. My mistake.

Matsuo Basho was a poet who made haikus, hence the “dayon” making it have too many syllables.

Suiton-no-jutsu unfortunately has no Naruto-related resources that are on it, so I had to use the Naruto thing to find something on it…the one about duckweed (on the link) is the one you’re looking for, apparently.

The ghost one…haven’t you heard about the ghost who counts plates, Okiku?

The “Jyushi” in Jyushimatsu means 14, hence the motif.

There sems to be a sad undertone to the Joshimatsu segment this time. Like Showa Genroku or something.

Michiko Yokote was on staff this time. No wonder the Choromatsu Rising  part actually made me laugh both times I saw it.

(ep 20)

There was a flag on the title.

It’s a taco, not a kebab.

There is such a thing as horumonyaki, hence the yakisoba having “hormone” on the sign.

The pigeon is at least well animated.

The school segment is one of the more notable ones…in that it got even more boring the second time around. I know it’s meant to be funny by how spontaneous it is, but it really is a waste of timeto watch twice…part of the joke here is that they’re meant to be yankees (delinquents…Japanese delinquent have a very specific style that takes off after American schools).

Ichimatsu speaks in arrows for the CR subs, but he speaks in mashed keyboard keys in the AnimeLab subs. Doesn’t matter anyway because it’s gibberish, but nice to know.

“Funny” is subjective,so really, Iyami, just do what can garner you the most laughs.

Dekapana and Dayon are treating the sextuplets like novice rakugoka.

Why are Iyami’s audience all girls?...Oh, I answered this question myself on the TV Tropes fridge page.

(ep 21)

There’s something long behind the title (two of them, actually), but I don’t know what they are. Update: They appear to be hachimaki (headbands normally used to psyche a mahjong player – or person doing any sort of other activity – up) or mahjong sticks.

I know nothing about (physical) mahjong…so sorry, I can’t explain anything here. There is a Detective Conan OVA that explains this stuff though (though I can’t remember anything I learnt from it since I watched it a while ago…). Basically, I’m just watching for the sake of (second) completion right now.

ESP Kitty! Hello again!

Is this an Akagi parody?

Karamatsu dabbed!

Okay, now I’m sure it’s an Akagi parody.

I’d like that life too, except with bishonen, Choromatsu. Unfortunately, you speak the truth…

Shehkai Teio appears to be a pun on something that I don’t know…The crowd at the races looks hilarious, though.

(ep 22)

Apparently the name “Totty” was meant to be a one-off.

Where’d the skirt come from? Don’t tell me Totty raided his mother’s closet! Now that’s the lowest of the low!

“…they were thrown off their pace?”

What’s the song for? At least it made me laugh, which in this second runthrough seems to be a lot rarer than the first time.

The mixer is at a place called “Maruya”.

Latematsu can be read “Osomatsu”, if you didn’t get it.

How does Osomatsu fit in a pot?

“Shiei” meaning “Death Shadow”…at least with those kanji. Likewise, “Shiya” means “Death Arrow” and “Shiyu” means “Death Oil”.

Well, these guys have absolutely no geography skillls either…because the globe showed Iyami and co. were in India when they were hauling around Chinese stereotypes.

(ep 23)

Sibling sabotage. Also known as the “bystander effect”.

I wonder whether Choro was barfing at the Dayon girl, too.

I think the Dayon lady on the very left of the chase scene is probably the creepiest one yet…

I never liked vomit humour, by the way.

I still don’t get any of Jyushimatsu’s jokes…

Fear and Drunkenness in Las Vegas…kinda sorta.

There’s a flag on the back wall in the Dayon girl’s house which says “effort”. At least, by the Chinese standard of the word.

You can see the younger three brothers trying to fit in by stretching their mouths, LOL.

Did you ever notice the chalk Matsus are drawn by a person wearing a Matsu suit?

There was a post-ep scene, but it was just a reshowing of Osomatsu sticking a piece of tissue up Ichimatsu’s nose…what.

(ep 24)

Ongaku meaning “music”, so...

First I’ve heard of this song…welp, here you go.

“Bottom feeder” takes on a whole new meaning for the fish idol.

The…the feels…I know all your feels, Choromatsu…

Everyone! Are we all on the feels train right now?

Leaving that half…is surprisingly considerate of Ichimatsu.

Hey! It’s the couple from the Christmas episode.

(ep 25) [Trigger warning: Brief mention of seppuku…but you knew that already, didn’t you?]

Welp. Last ep. I may have complained about how the humour in this is pretty much sucked out by watching (most of) it a second time, but…every anime is an adventure. Remember that.

Wait, what’s an invitational?

Ichimatsu apparently got caught in the flow of “Nice!”s, only to get caught up in Karamatsu’s one. LOL.

The Koushien is a high school baseball tournament. For some reason, baseball is crazily popular in the Japanese world.

Owch, Osomatsu…

Karamatsu! He dabs!

A bean ball?...Oh, a bean ball. Okay. (I don’t quite get baseball, but I understand this, at least.)

French people don’t even play baseball…well, most of them.

Iyami’s shirt has 183 on it…or in goroawase, i-ya-mi.

Apparently Totoko did the male version of seppuku…which suits her character very well.

What in great Dante’s inferno, Karamatsu…?

Welp, that’s the end of that. The JRA special was excluded because I got bored of the series before even getting this far, as well as it not having anything I can talk about.

(ReLIFE ep 1)

Ah…the nostalgia only an anime can bring…It’s always extremely satisfying to see an anime of a manga you’ve known since it was an unknown. 

Did you spot the cat on the TV a few seconds into the episode? It’s Hishiron’s LINE cat!

Haha, I know your feels too well, Arata.

The humour in this is quite quick, but it hits when it needs to.

Yoake was my Dazai (Bungou Stray Dogs) before I knew about Dazai. Why? Gadfly traits.

“Yoake” means “daybreak” and is apparently the name of a train station in Japan.

Interesting how they leave Arata in shadow until the reveal. The reason why I decided to start this series was because it was somewhat like Detective Conan.

I’ve always though the showing of a phone is integral to a show set in modern times, but in order for a show to be timeless, you can’t show too much of its or what model it is…That’s why “White Parasite” is the only one to feature a phone out of 3 Honeyfeed stories.

The iconic thing about ReLIFE is the clean, minimalistic designs, so the OP really suits this show.

A-hah. I thought they were organised according to hiragana character (roll number), which is fairly usual in anime…hence the thing I left on the ReLIFE Fridge page.

Formal speech is too formal if you’re using it with classmates (regardless of language)…so yeah.

Note Kariu and Oga are close in physical proximity to Kaizaki.

The Going Straight Home club, as I’ve mentioned in earlier times, is…no club at all.

Scanlations called Oga “Flashy Oga”, but “Showga” seems to work better than that.

Notice the word used in the CR subs is “pencil box”. Pencil case in Japanese is fudebako, the bako bit meaning “box”.

CR subs are acting up sometimes (they change font at the end of sentences)…what in Dante’s inferno…

Rules of Japanese: never use a first name unless given permission. For girls, it’s much more likely you can get permission. Of course, if you’re good friends, you can get permission easily too.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers VII (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: So I guess most of you already heard the news about Daybreak… It sucks, and I’m really upset about it, but don’t worry, I won’t stop writing about the show, I love the story and I think as long as there are people interested in it, we can keep it alive. With nothing else to add, I hope you enjoy the chapter, see you on Thursday

Words: 4,153

Warnings: Blood, dead people, feelings, Y/N has a breakdown at some point and Eli is there to kinda calm her down??? idk, bad writing cause I just can’t proofread to save my life.

Previous chapter // Next chapter

I sent Wesley and Angelica to talk to Eli but it was a failure so now I’m waiting here while they get medicines from another place. I’m hungry as hell and waiting for a solution isn’t helping my anxiety. So I write a third note apart from the ones Wesley and Angelica put about going to the pharmacy on Josh’s hand saying I‘m looking for more bandages (cause now we only have one left) and that he better don’t move from where he is or I’ll knock him off again.

See? this is what I mean, people only cause you problems if you’re a good person. Will Josh wake up to thank us for doing all this stuff? Probably not, cause he’s too busy thinking about kissing Sam to be a decent human being. 

But who am I to judge anyway, is not like I was the embodiment of selflessness. I was going to end Alex’s relationship, that’s the kind of person I am.

——————————————

“Alex, hey! Alex!” I’ve been standing outside his place for what it feels like the longest time, it’s freezing and dark out here; if my parents notice I’m not home I won’t hear the end of it, but this is important. I need to know exactly where I’m standing on Alex’s life.

‘Y/N, you literally told us like two chapters ago that you and Alex never talked about the kiss, what the hell are you doing?’ Well…

“Y/N? Is all okay?”

Just keep reading.

“Stuart,” I say in a tone of surprise, “I didn’t know you were coming over to Alex’s”

“Yeah, we’re gonna watch a movie” Stuart says, giving me a curious look, “I didn’t know he had invited you”

“He didn’t,” I say quickly, “no, I just need to talk to him about something… school stuff.”

“School?”

“I know it’s late, but you know me,” I shrug, trying to sound as casual as posible, “I got all anxious about it and he wasn’t answering my texts, so…”

“Oh, I think it’s because he’s taking a shower,” He smiles, “but hey, let’s go inside so you don’t freeze to death.”

“I really don’t wanna bother…”

“Come on, Y/N, you’re a friend,” Stuart replies, “it’s better if you stop worrying about it and ask him, you’re here anyway.”

We walk inside Alex’s house and I sit on the edge of the couch, unable to control my anxiety. I look over to my friend and a sudden idea hits me. I could tell him and all would be over…

Stop! What did Katie just told you? I can’t do it with Stuart here, I can’t ruin their date. I can’t ruin my friends’ relationship just cause I’m confused about my own feelings. This is dumb, I can live with the doubt, I don’t have to do this. I’ll tell Stuart to not worry about it and I’ll-

“Y/N?” Alex appears at the end of the stairs, his hair is damped and his shirt has tiny droplets. But overall he looks nice.

And that’s when I realize, Alex never dressed like that for our outings. Or for when I was the one going over to his house to watch movies. He never did any of those nice things he does for Stuart. I discovered (with lots of pain) that if I ask him right now to tell me who is he in love with, he’s not gonna say my name.

And that’s all I needed to know.

“Uh, hi,” My voice comes out hoarse, I try to fix it before I continue, “you know what?” I look over to Stuart, “I can fix it on my own, don’t worry about it. Thanks for letting me in though.”

“Are you sure?” Stuart asks me in confusion.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You…” I look intently to Alex, making sure he knows what I mean with what I’m about to say, “clearly have something more important going on here. Don’t worry, I’ll do fine.”

Alex opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out. He stares at me with a pained expression. Stuart walks me out since he’s the closest to me.

“Enjoy the night for me, will you?” I ask him once we’re outside, “and take care of Alex, he’s the only best friend I have.”

“Sure thing, boss,” He chuckles, “have a good night, Y/N. Try to not get so easily scared about little things.”

——————————————

“I don’t get easily scared,” I grumble, holding tightly the bandages against my chest, “fucking Stuart, being super nice…”

My rambling dies as soon as I’m in front of Josh’s bed. He’s tied up and has a piece of fabric on his mouth. Crumble is standing beside him.

“Uhm,” I look at her, “what the fuck?”

“He’s safe,” She mumbles, looking at his hand with hunger, “Don’t worry, he still has all of his body parts. Except for the finger.”

“I want to ask… but at the same time, I’m too afraid to do so,” I shake my head, and put the bandages on the table next to me, “that’s enough, we’re fixing this on our own, Crumble. I’m talking with Eli myself, he’ll give me whatever it is he has on that fucking pharmacy and he will do it, now,” I point to Crumble expecting to look at least a bit threatening, “no biting while I’m gone!”

“No biting,” Crumble shakes her head with enthusiasm.

Cut to five minutes later, I’m standing next to the curtain and screaming to get his attention.

“Eli Cardashyan, get your ass here right now!”

“Ah, have you guys come to your senses?” He’s got an annoying smirk on his face, “Do you have my lotion?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, “No. Wesley and Angelica haven’t returned but Josh is getting worse and I need medicine. Please.”

“Open this shit up, then.”

“No can do, Wesley took the keys with him,” I reply.

“Then I’m sorry but I can’t help you.”

“Can you stop acting like a child for a second?” I huff in exasperation, “Neither Josh or I ever did anything to you at school. Help him.”

“But you saw,” He points his finger and wiggles it through the curtain, “you saw how they treated me and you never did anything about it.”

“Dude, if I would’ve tried to help every single student that the jocks mistreated I’d have been killed in the first month. I wasn’t fucking Sam Dean, no one knew my name and sure as hell no one respected me more than they respected you. How important is that now anyway? That happened months ago when dogs were still normal size.”

“Well, now more than ever my survival depends on whether or not I like or trust you. And I don’t. So I want you out of here.”

“Fine,” I try to grab his finger but he takes it back, “give me the medication and I’ll make sure we all leave the mall tomorrow morning.”

“For real?” His eyes widened.

“Well, yes asshole. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I was fucking with you just to get on your nerves,” Eli raises his hands, “I have no medicines.”

“You don’t… What?!”

“I told Wesley before, I don’t have what he needs. That’s why they decided to look for it elsewhere,” He chuckles, “but it’s good to know you’re easily persuaded.”

“Fuck you, Eli!” I exclaim, “All I’m trying to do is to keep Josh alive, cause I don’t run away from problems and I’m totally capable of facing them, okay?! I need him to be okay, cause then all I did was a waste of time!”

And I’m having a crisis, I’m totally having a crisis when I fall to the floor crying over a stupid dying boy. 

“Hey, calm down,” Eli scrunches down to be at my level, though he can’t really touch me cause I’m sitting way further, he stays as close to the curtain as possible, “I’m sure Wesley and Angelica will get them, don’t lose it.”

“I’m such an asshole,” I cover my face with both hands, completely unable to stop the tears, “I can’t seem to do the right thing no matter what”

“What do you mean? You’ve been taking care of Josh for a whole day, you’re not an asshole.”

“I’m only doing it cause I feel guilty!” I shake my head, “I did something horrible to my best friend and my sister, and now I want to fix it with another human being so I feel less guilty about my shit. And I just fucked it up again. I should pack my bags and leave”

“Dude whatever you did, I’m sure it doesn’t make you a monster. I mean, Baron Triumph already took the title.”

I hate this. I’m drowning in stress and I’m telling this to Eli out of all people. Now he most certainly will use it against me and I can’t do anything about it. The worst part is that I’m truly scared of what might happen to Josh if we don’t give him the right treatment. He still has the chance that was taken from me months ago. He can be reunited with the person he cares about the most.

I manage to calm down enough to clear my head and stand up, I clean my face and I look over to Eli with a threatening expression.

“For the record, I’m not crying because of Josh”

“Yeah, I could tell because your speech had no shit to do with him”

“I just have a lot to deal with,” I take a deep breath before continuing, “I know I’m not a monster. I said I was an asshole. And if you tell them anything of what just happened I will-”

“No need to put a knife on my throat,” He interrupts me, “I won’t tell them.”

“How do I know you’re being honest?”

“Cause you just had a breakdown in front of me and I don’t want to see that again, that shit’s scary,” Eli stands up too, “whatever happened before the nuke, well, you said it, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s all bullshit now.”

“But you said…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eli starts to walk away, “go back to Josh, make sure he’s not swallowing his tongue or something.” 

I really want to keep the conversation going, but he’s right. I should go back to Josh. And thank fuck I did, cause I came back to a horror show. 

Crumble was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching a bowl filled with larvae as they were eating out of Josh’s hand.

“Am I going to come back to some freaky shit every time I leave you alone?” I ask in fear, pulling her away from the bed, “What is going on?”

“They’re eating the infection,” She replies happily, “you said we were gonna fix this, so I helped you fix it.”

I look at his hand and I can’t see the skin, but we saw something about it in class, I think, like a semester ago. I don’t know what to say except for…

“Thanks,” I sit on the chair I slept in last night, “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that.”

“It’s cause you can’t think with an empty stomach,” Crumble nods, “we can share my worms after they’re done if you want”

“I don’t eat people…” I scrunch up my nose in disgust, “or worms. Or infections. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Okay,” she turns around and goes back to have a conversation with her dolls.

“It’s been a hard couple of days,” I mumble, looking at Josh and trying to feel okay with the gross sound of the larvae eating his flesh, “but somehow, I’m okay with it.”

I try to remember exactly how did Josh and I meet. The first time, I mean. When we did our school project.

“Y/N L/N and… Josh Wheeler” Crumble mentions, and I straighten up in my seat.

“Who the hell is Josh Wheeler?” I say under my breath.

“That’d be me,” The boy at my right says, turning his body towards me.

Ah, shit. That’s awkward.

“Oh, sorry,” I smile apologetically, “I hadn’t heard your name before.”

“That’s cause I’m new here,” He smiles, “it’s alright, don’t worry. Josh is a common name anyway, so plenty of people don’t remember how I look.”

“I’ll make sure I’m not one of them.”

“That’s very appreciated, Y/N. I can call you Y/N, right?” He asks.

“That’s my name after all,” I grin.

“Cool,” Josh nods, “so, about the project…”

“If you can do it this thursday, I’m free.”

“Me too. We can go at my place if you want, my mom won’t be home so we won’t bother anyone.”

“Uh,” I hesitate for a moment, “Not that I don’t love going over to strangers’ houses but…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t try anything funny,” Josh chuckles, probably knowing exactly what I’m thinking, “but if you feel uncomfortable we can just go to your place, or the library”

“No, it’s fine. We can go to your place,” the dude seems decent, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, “see you next thursday, at two outside school, then?”

“Sure,” He gives me a small smile before heading out of the classroom and we keep going with our lives.

——————————————

“We’re here!” Wesley pulls me back from my thoughts and I jump from my seat towards the entrance of the store.

“You got the stuff?”

“Oh, we got the stuff,” He shows me Angelica’s bag, packed with white bottles of pills. I squeal a little and give Wesley a tight hug, “look at that! Someone’s happy”

“I didn’t want to carry his ghost for the rest of my life, so yes. I’m relieved,” I grab the bottles but Angelica takes the bag from my hands, “hey!”

“I’m gonna make edible slime for him”

“Are you serious?”

“It won’t take long, besides he’s asleep now, right? And Crumble said she found a way to get rid of his gangrene, so he’ll be fine.”

And that’s when it hits me, Josh is going to be fine.

“Yeah… yes. Do the slime then, I’ll be with Josh.”

“You can rest if you want,” Wesley offers, “he’s out of danger.”

“I got used to being there, you know?” I shrug, “it won’t hurt to sleep one more night on the chair.”

It’s a lie, of course. It will hurt my neck and back, but I need to see the work completed, I need to see him with color on his face and laughing stupidly at his own jokes. 

——————————————

“You have a bad memory?” I ask Josh while pointing at the three post-it notes on the kitchen.

“Nah, that’s just my mom making sure I do what she needs me to do while she’s out,” He brushes it off, “just ignore them.”

“Okay,” I walk over to the living room and sit next to him, opening my backpack, “where should we start?”

“I think the second subtheme was the most extense. I was reading it during lunch and I feel like it will take us years to finish it, so maybe that?”

“You were reading about chemistry during our lunchbreak?” I giggle.

“Well I didn’t want to look like an asshole today, like, what if you had done research on your own and then came to my house to hear me say ‘oh, I don’t know what our work is about, I spent all night playing Outlast’ that would’ve sucked”

“I guess,” I reply, “let’s use all that knowledge then, before it fades.”

“I have plenty of knowledge,” He nods, keeping the joke alive, “I even googled the words I couldn’t understand.”

I laugh again and he joins in happily. He’s nice, I wonder if we’ll still talk after this.

——————————————

Spoiler alert, we didn’t. We finished the work, we got a ‘B’, we high-fived and said “hey, nice work” and we moved on. Cause that’s what you do when you’re seventeen and you’re paired up with someone you barely know. I had other stuff in my mind to be thinking “You know what could be fun? If I befriended that Josh guy I met in chemistry class”, I kept my promise, though. I never forgot his face, and he remembered my name and waved at me whenever he saw me in the halls. That was sweet.

When I wake up the next morning Josh’s aspect has improved. He’s not pale and isn’t sweating as much. The bowl with larvae is gone and it’s been replaced with the one with slime.

I rummage through my stuff and find a small package of cookies. I also pull out my notepad and cross them from my list. I’ll make sure to replace them before I leave. Halfway through my breakfast, Josh moves slightly and raises his hand, which is still reddish but now is a normal reddish and doesn’t smell like Ghoulie.

“Goodmorning, champ,” I smirk.

Josh looks at me and drops his head back on the pillows.

“I’m alive.”

“You are,” I eat the last cookie and drop the package, “eat up. Angelica made it for you.”

He turns his head towards the table and sees the slime, sitting up with more strength and animosity than the day before, he takes the bowl on his hands and tastes it carefully.

“Good?” I ask, he nods in approval.

“Cool,” I get up to leave, but he speaks up.

“Wait,” I turn around to look at him, “how long have you been there?”

“Oh,” I blush, not really wanting to answer the question, but I figure that if I don’t do it, someone else will, “the whole time, probably?”

“You stayed the whole night again?”

“I know you don’t like that-”

“No, thanks,” He replies with a soft, tired voice, “I was a dick the other day, thank you for looking after me.”

“I was making sure you were alright, that’s all”

“I know. I’m really sorry for treating you like that, you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page now,” I reply, “cause that means I can go without feeling guilty.”

“Oh. Right.” I think he looks disappointed for a second, but it goes away as soon as it comes, “You’re leaving…”

“I have to go restock so…” I don’t wait for a reply and I flee before he speaks to me again. 

Why? Oh, cause I hate confrontation and if I hear him I’ll probably want to stay. Turns out I kinda got attached to stupid Josh for spending a whole day watching over him and now is like that puppy you rescue from the rain, that you know you can’t keep but it has the cutest eyes you’ve seen and it’s just so cute? Yeah, I know you know what I’m talking about.

I’m on my way to retrieve the stuff I left on the store when I run into Josh. He’s out of the bed and is looking quite lively.

“Hey!” He grins, “I wanted to thank you.” 

“Dude, you already did that,” I roll my eyes smiling, “you need to stop before my ego flies through the roof. I’m telling you, you don’t wanna see-”

“You saved my life, Y/N. Along with the others, sure,” He adds, “but you went out of your way to stay and made sure the others got the medicines. You could’ve left me to die and you decided to stay and help.”

“Well, I needed my redemption. I didn’t do it just to be nice.”

“You kind of did,” He points out, “just like how you called me by my name whenever you got the chance at school, and how you offered me help to find Sam even though this was supposedly Triumph’s territory. You’re cool.”

“Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Don’t call me nice,” He shakes his head, “you say someone’s nice when you don’t have anything else to say”

“No. It depends on how the person says it. I say nice when there’s plenty to say,” I correct him, “but I can list all of it if you want,” I think about it for a moment before I start to enlist, “you’re sweet and caring, and resourceful. And you’re brave, cause instead of joining any tribe, you have been looking for a girl all on your own-”

“Okay, okay!” He stops me mid-sentence, “you win. Nice is good. I get it. Stop.”

Josh smiles openly at me and I catch myself thinking about how pretty his smile is.

NO. We are not going over the road again, Y/N. Don’t even think about it.

“Anyway, I wanted to thank you, so I got this for you” He pulls out a pair of bright, lime-green skates from his backpack, “I decided it was my turn to do something for you so I got you new skates.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper, trying to look cool about it, “any reason why you chose this color?”

“I don’t know, they felt like you,” Josh says simply, “if that makes any sense.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, and I know, I know I’m blushing.

Now more than ever I need to leave before this feeling grows into something more dangerous.

“You’re not even staying the night?”

“I told Angelica I would stay until you were better. How do you feel?”

“I feel…” He doubts for a moment, then continues, “I feel better.”

“Then my work here is done,” I smile, “take care, Wheeler.”

“I know it’s sappy to say it, but I will kinda miss you.”

“Shut up,” I roll my eyes, avoiding eye contact.

“Seriously, who will take care of our injuries when you’re gone? You should leave a notebook with instructions about what to do in case of stabbing, ghoulie bites, sunburns and stuff like that. You must have googled those too on your boring days, right?”

I laugh, nodding.

“I did,” I didn’t, but you know, fanfiction writers are dedicated as fuck to their research, “but maybe some other time? if we see each other again, I’ll make sure to have the notebook ready.”

“Deal,” Josh is beaming, not for me though, he just seems happy to be alive. 

My heart can’t take that sight so early in the morning, so I look away.

“Uh, Angelica told me they wanted to talk to you…” I mention.

“Oh,” The boy frowns, “okay.”

I follow him those few steps so I can say goodbye to Wesley and Angelica too, and luckily enough, both of them are sitting next to each other.

“Hey,” Josh raises his voice, “what flavor is this anyway? Antibiotic apple or, uh…” He chuckles, “triage truffle?”

Ah, there they are, the silly jokes. Fuck, I’ll miss that stupid sense of humor.

“They call it Josh-Cut-Off-His-Finger-Because-He-Sucks-Dick Berry,” Angelica answers softly.

“Rude,” I reply, then I realize she’s crying and my heart drops, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“What’s going on?” Josh asks beside me, “Are you crying?”

“Come with us,” Is all she says before standing up and taking us outside the mall where they lead us towards a car.

Wesley opens the trunk and we stare at a corpse covered with a white sheet with bloodstains.

“We found her body on the way back.”

I look over to Angelica to find some kind of sign that this is all a bad joke, surely that can’t be…

“Show me,” Demands Josh, I hold my breath waiting for the worst.

Wesley pulls the sheet away and there’s no longer a face where it should be a face. It’s destroyed. The only thing that I recognized, is that yellow pin she used to wear all the time on her clothes.

“No…” I whisper.

“Sam,” Josh leans shakily against the trunk and carefully caresses the hair on her head, “oh, Sam…”

It’s more than I can take. I walk away from the car and turn my back to them, hands against my eyes so I don’t start crying for the second time that week.

This is not fair. It was supposed to be a happy ending. Josh, finding the girl and me finally free from any guilt. It wasn’t supposed to end with Sam Dean’s body at the back of a car. 

I wanna say that I’ll leave anyway. That I’m still packing my bags and walking out. But no. I’m staying cause I can’t leave Josh when they just took away from him the only thing that mattered the most. I know how that feels, and it sucks to have to live it alone. It hurt when Alex walked away after I had killed Katie. I’m not gonna do that to Josh, or anyone. I’m not scared. 

I’m staying.

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