#and APPARENTLY none of my friends at the time were cool enough to put it on their now dead but still existing blogs

[shyfurby]

I had a Tumblr for a very brief moment in college, probably 2017 or 18, and posted a little bit of art, but one specific thing I posted was a digital piece of my pink Eldritch deity kinda OC and it somehow POPPED OFF, like I'm pretty sure 10k plus notes

Which means, even though I've deactivated the blog, it's out there and theoretically I could find it.

[g1rld1ary]

snowball fights - james potter x fem!lupin!reader

wc: 1756

cw: none!

me: can u tell i've never seen snow LOL -- it is actually fire szn here so veryyyy different vibes

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You loved being at Remus’ house. As your favourite side of the family, Remus’ house was always the place to be. Growing up in a household with many siblings, the Lupin's place was your safe haven when it all got to be too much and Remus became your best friend despite the year age gap.

You were staying at the Lupins over the Christmas break of your seventh year, not even expecting Remus to be there but wanting some peace and a relaxing break with your aunt and uncle. It was only as you’d apparated in from King’s Cross that you were told Remus and his friends would be having their annual Christmas dinner at the Lupin’s this year. You couldn’t lie that you were excited, you loved Remus and adored his friends even if you weren’t super close with them.

Remus swept you up in his arms as the boys burst into the house, announcing their presence with raucous laughter and heavy footsteps.

“Are you taller?” He imitated his mum good-naturedly and you laughed, putting your hands on your hips to mimic your own mother.

“You need to eat more, Remus, you’re thin as a beanpole.” You both dissolved into laughter, years of family gatherings leaving an imprint on both of your memories.

“Hey, kid,” Peter greeted you by ruffling your hair, making you swat at his hand and duck out of his hug, going back when he exaggerated his heartbreak.

“I’m only eighteen months younger than you, idiot. Don’t make me sound twelve.”

“Stop looking like you’re twelve, then, little lady,” Sirius came around the corner teasing you. You pouted, accepting his kiss on the temple nonetheless.

“You’re so mean to me. You know I’m basically your sister and this is how you treat me? Cold,” You grumbled, secretly smiling when you saw him and Remus exchange momentary eye contact when you mentioned their relationship.

“You think this is bad? You should see how my cousins treat their siblings,” He retorted and you grimaced, shaking your head.

“Not cool to pull the shitty family card, dude. None of us can compete with that.” Sirius made a triumphant noise and held up his hand for a high five which Remus reluctantly reciprocated, leading his boyfriend down the hall to where his parents were certainly awaiting in their unassigned—assigned armchairs. That just left James to enter, doing the majority of the group’s heavy lifting, biceps flexing under the weight of suitcases and gifts — not that you were thinking about his biceps.

“Let me help.” You rushed over to him, taking one of many bags from his arms.

“Thanks, little Lupin. I owe you one.” You internally sighed. James, the most loyal friend, had only ever treated you like Remus’ younger cousin, even when you did everything you could to move out of that role. Still, it was better than nothing. Even a little bit of James Potter’s attention was enough to feed your delusions and keep you girlishly attached to him over the years since you’d met.

Christmas lunch was the highlight of your whole break. Remus and his friends always brought an unmatchable energy wherever they went and you always felt lucky just to be in their presence, like you were still the annoying younger sibling your parents made them include. That was only exacerbated by the constant teasing you endured whenever you spent time with them.

“Little Lupin, how does it feel to still have to go back to school?” Sirius asked, knowing you’d be annoyed by the question. You rolled your eyes heavily, slumping dramatically in your chair.

“I’m counting down the days until summer, I’ll tell you that. How does it feel to have to go back to work?” Then it was Sirius’ turn to grimace — he was still searching for a ‘dream job’, taking up a temporary office post at the ministry in the meantime.

“Touché,” He relented as James sent you a thumbs up. You pretended not to be affected by it.

“How is school? Not causing too much trouble, are you?” Peter asked through a mouthful of bread. You shook your head, taking a mouthful of the wine Remus’ parents only let you have on special occasions.

“No way, I’m not taking after — guys it’s snowing!” You shrieked, running to the window of the dining room. You pressed your face to the glass for a better view of the new snowflakes covering last night's blanket of powdery white snow. You heard a cacophony of laughter behind you but intentionally ignored it, admiring how the street was turning into a winter wonderland.

“Please, please will someone come outside with me?” You asked hopefully, interrogating them all with intense eye contact. Remus shook his head immediately, not one to put up with your shenanigans.

“You know I don’t like the cold, and Sirius is already under the weather, he’s not playing in the snow today.” He gave a pointed look to his boyfriend who tried to act tough, but melted easily. You moved on to Peter, puppy dog eyes on full force.

“Sorry, bud,” He said softly, as if it was out of his control and not just a dislike for being cold. You pouted.

“You’re only allowed to call me bud when you’re not making me sad.” You didn’t bother asking your aunt and uncle whether they’d go out with you. They were getting old, it wouldn’t be fair.

“I’ll go,” James broke your woeful silence.

“Really?” You looked back at him with wide eyes. He nodded, now slightly unsure, and you hopped up with newly revived energy, rushing out of the room and down towards the front door. James followed behind.

There was a strange energy between the two of you as you pulled on your coats and winter gear. Of all the marauders, James was the one you were least close to. Not for any specific reason, but at school he’d always been the most popular of the group — always busy with quidditch training, Lily or the gaggle of fans that always fought for his attention. That left him with little time to hang out with you, his best friend’s irrelevant little cousin who just happened to think he was fit. You didn’t hold it against him at all, you had enough of your own friends, it was just a fact that you didn’t know much about each other.

Still, you had someone willing to put up with your love of the snow. You weren’t going to waste that. You flashed him a smile as you beat him to getting ready, slipping out the door and out into the street. You let yourself laugh loudly as you spun wildly, arms out and face tipped up to the sun to catch the snow on you. You loved the cold, it was reassuring, grounding.

James watched you from the gate, smiling softly as you frolicked around, dancing in the snow as it fell lightly on your head and shoulders. He ventured closer, shoes covered in snow as he stared down the street, momentarily struck by the view of a dozen quaint houses all covered in white, something straight out of a fairytale.

He was drawn from his reverie by stumbling forward, propelled by a force to the back of his head. His hand snapped up to where he was hit, emerging covered in powdery snow. James whirled to face you where you stood with a faux-innocent expression, revealing your guilt with a playful smile you were trying hard to conceal.

James gasped in mock outrage, dropping to the floor to create his counterattacks. You squealed as he flung snowball after snowball at you with alarming accuracy, no doubt thanks to his many years as chaser.

You had your back to James to endure the majority of the attacks, coat becoming thick with exploded snow. You’d gathered a few snowballs to keep yourself armed but as you popped back up to throw them James’ strong arms came around your middle, lifting you into the air. It was too intimate for the relationship you had, but you were both affected by the winter heaven you were in (and maybe your Christmas spirit) and you laughed loudly, tilting your head to the sky to feel cold wind on your features. As James spun you around you remembered your secret weapon, smushing a snowball into his face, all but cackling as he spluttered and dropped you to the ground.

“Oh, you’re evil, little Lupin,” He said, pointing an accusatory finger. You took a dramatic bow, launching from your spot on the ground when James launched towards you, armed with more snowballs. You sprinted as James launched them at you, groaning when one hit you particularly hard.

You only stopped running when you’d been thoroughly worn out, legs giving way until you flopped onto a thick layer of snow, sinking slightly into it. James tortured you with one more snowball to the face — probably revenge for earlier — before setting himself down beside you, letting his perfectly messy curls get wet from the snow melting under his body heat.

You’d been staring up into the sky, squinting under the bright sun when you felt him watching you. You turned your head slowly to face him, gasping softly as your cheek hit the ice. James was staring at you, a soft look in his eye.

“What?” You asked, unnerved by his silence.

“Merry Christmas,” He said, sharing a small smile. You returned the phrase only slightly awkwardly, choosing to look back out at the sky for fear of getting intimidated by James’ gaze.

From behind the living room windows, the rest of your Christmas party watched the entire display unfold.

“Ten galleons that Prongs tells us he likes her before New Year's,” Sirius said with a laugh.

“No way, Valentine’s Day,” Peter chuckled.

“Maybe he doesn’t like her, right?” Remus suggested weakly, feeling slightly sick to his stomach.

“Oh, Remus,” Hope smiled, “I say tonight.”

Laughter echoed around the small house as Remus put his head in his hands, mortified by the prospect of his closest friend pursuing his little cousin, even if you weren’t so little anymore.

You and James were completely unaware of the bets being made inside, swallowed whole by the bubble of peace that the snow brought.

[silentstyx]

"You Belong With Me" ~ (jake peralta x reader's version)

tw! tbh none rly, reader is a SWIFTIE!!! SUCK IT UP!!!

sum! "We've never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall and when we end up showering at the same time, we sometimes sing duets." (guess where i thought of this one...)

i love this prompt sm and it literally is grabbing me by the shoulders, screaming in my face - "THIS IS JAKE PERALTA AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT BESIDES POST IT"

You move into a new apartment, you got a fair warning before moving in that you're neighbor has a shower directly opposite of the wall of yours. So if you both take a shower at the same time you might hear each other.

You were fine with that. You're fine with thin walls, hearing your neighbor have a entire concert in the shower... oh well. The apartments sorta cheap.

This somewhat annoyment was before and only before you figured out he was a swiftie, then you tried to get in the shower at the same time constantly.

The man seemed to catch onto how you would always start showering as he would begin. What else he notices, you would sing duets together. Everytime he would play a Taylor song in the shower, you would sing along with him.

You both recently would give each other short term solo's during songs. It wasn't only Taylor Swift that played, sometimes it was just early 2000's songs. Still you would duet together nonetheless.

You would go to work and tell your friends about your neighbor that you know nothing about, besides his music taste.

Oblivious to you Jake had been doing the same thing at work.

"Charles!" He whisper yelled across the bullpenn, coming from the elevator. 

He fangirled to Charles about what was happening. Charles was practically begging him to ask you out, apparently he wanted a double date with Jake. Soon.

When you both got home at the same time, which Jake planned, he was going to ask you for your number. Maybe. If he psychs himself up enough.

Because worst case scenario wasn't that you "reject him". Worst case was you get weirded out, you don't ever talk to him again, you avoid him, you never do the shower concert duet thing whatever again.

You don't say anything as your unlocking your apartment, feeling awkward about seeing him. He knows your music taste. That's a detail not many people get to find out about each other. He heard you scream sing "You Belong With Me" in the shower.

"Hey, uh.." Jake said nervously, while walking up to you.

You stop unlocking the door, taking a deep nervous breath in, and putting on a smile.

"Uh, my names Jake. I'm the neighbor that you uh-" You cut him off before he finishes speaking.

"I know what we do." You say with a somewhat nervous snicker, "I'm (y/n)"

He smiles at you, "Hi. Uh, I was just wondering if I could take you out maybe sometime... and maybe get your number with it?"

Your smile got twice as big, you could feel it. You nod your head, not feeling any words possibly coming out anytime soon.

"Really?!" He said excitedly, before starting his cool guy persona again, "I meannnn, coolcoolcoolcoolcool..."

"So I can drive you to a restaurant of your choice at 9:30 on saturday? I'm a police officer, I work weekdays and I work late."

No. He had plans on friday to rewatch every single die hard movie. Also using Saturday gave him plenty of time to be ready to take you out.

"Sounds good, bring Taylor." You say before getting into your apartment.

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Twelve: Reminded me of You

You leaned against the table, watching a few other people walk in and out of the room. Although it was after class hours, there had more people in the studio than usual, though thankfully nothing too overcrowded.

“Hey, here’s your stuff, i’m sorry we had to meet up kinda late again,” Ino spoke as he handed you the folded shirt and pants. “Thanks, and don’t worry about it, I was gonna come in to work on Yuki’s dress anyway.” You fixed the outfit into your bag, and began walking off, Ino following behind. “Good luck on your project Ino, from what you’ve showed me I think it’s going really well.” From the short time you’ve been around him, you could tell Ino was very optimistic and social. When you met with him he’d usually go off talking about whatever to keep the conversation going, and it always seemed to work.

“Thanks y/n, I really hope so, though I think i’m just gonna go get something from the shop outside my dorm building and sleep. I’m done for today. What about you?” You two continued making your way out as you talked. “I’m visiting my friend, the one that’s helping out Yuji with his project.” From past conversations you had found out that Ino knew Yuji, and apparently Megumi too.

“Oh cool, you gonna go help them too?” “No, just bringing them some stuff from the store, Nobara sent me the location.” “Oh nice, well if we’re heading the same way I don’t mind walking around with you.” “Sure that’s fine.”

Unlucky for you, once you bought everything you wanted, two large bottle sodas and a couple bags of chips and candies, the cashier had told you they had just run out of bags. You tried your best to carry it, putting a couple in your bag, but not much could fit and the sodas were becoming uncomfortable to carry. You started considering just leaving some of it behind. “Need help?” You turned your head to see Ino, who only had a bag of chips in his hand. “If we’re going to the same building I can help you drop it off.” “um well.. that would be helpful, yeah.”

Yuji opened the door, only to find you and Ino, both with hands full. “Hey Yuji, surprise!”

“Y/n, Ino what are you guys doing here?” “I’m just helping out, but it’s nice to see you man!”

“Who is it?” you heard an all too familiar voice ask from behind Yuji. He whipped his head around to face Megumi who had shown up beside him. “Hey Megumi, long time no see!” Ino announced.

“Hey Megumi!”

Megumi got up from the small living area and walked to the kitchen island in the shared dorm between Junpei and his roommate, who was currently out somewhere. He saw Yuji excitedly grab a bag of chips and rip it open. Junpei leaning against the counter laughing at his behaviour.

“Megumi, I got you something, I remember you said you liked things that pair with ginger, and I saw these and thought of you, I don’t know if you’ll like it but there’s other chips if you don’t want them.” You held up a bag of some type of Lay’s flavored chips with ginger, he had never really seen them before, but just the fact that you had bought them with him in mind was enough for him to give them a try. “Thanks, these are actually my favorite.” A white lie never hurt anyone. Yuji spoke up, “Really I thought that-” “These are my favorite.”

Author’s Note: when i was writing the chip part i had lays wasabi and ginger chips in mind, they’re low key good ngl i recommend if anyone likes those flavors

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 2 - Painland Week

Day 2 of Painland Week 2024: August 5th - August 11th by @painlandweek

Prompt: Myths / Legends

Tags:  Post-canon, Case-fic

TW: None

Edwin stopped writing mid-word - which, in hindsight, should have been the first evidence that something was wrong, if Charles hadn’t been distracted - and he asked:

“Sorry, wait a tick, you said you are trying to retrieve a lost sword from a lake, and the sword’s name is?” 

“Excalibur, yes,” finished the client.

Edwin tapped the pen over his notebook twice, not even pretending to go back to taking notes - second evidence - and threw the universal ‘closet, now’ look at Charles. For his part, Charles had been listening to the conversation like it was something happening inside a bubble, or on the television, something he wasn’t a part of. His brain had been stuck on a very different train of thought ever since the client entered their office, because the first thing Charles’ mind supplied him with was ‘wow, he’s hot,’ immediately followed by ‘uh, that’s new, since when do I find random boys hot’ and ‘wait, does that mean I can finally be not straight and return Edwin’s feelings?’ - all in all, very confusing thoughts to have in the middle of a potential case.

He did follow Edwin to the closet, though, because it was muscle memory to follow Edwin anywhere without question.

“So what do you think?” Edwin asked, “a curse?”

“It could be, if the missing sword is cursed that would explain why he can’t find it in the lake,” Charles replied, trying to cut through the haze enough to form a sensible thought.

Edwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. It was unusual for them to not be on the same wavelength, they rarely needed to explain themselves further during conversations on almost any topic. It made Charles feel like he had failed some kind of test. “Mr. Rowland, the reading assignments are mandatory to every student.”

“What are you talking about, Charles? There is no sword.”

‘What?’ Charles didn’t say, not eager to repeat the experience. 

Edwin apparently could see right through his desperation, because he sighed with that ever-present hint of fondness and explained:

“This man thinks he is Arthur Pendragon, the once and future King of Britain, on a quest to find his missing sword Excalibur. There is absolutely no way that it is true, hence the hypothesis that he might be cursed. It is not unheard of for ghosts to develop mental illnesses, but it usually involves more rage and screaming, thinking you are the long lost King of Britain seems too specific for that.”

Taking a breath he didn’t really need, Charles focused back to the present to catch up with Edwin’s reasoning. “I think we should play along, if he has been cursed, there has to be a reason, maybe he will lead us to the artefact, or the person who cast the spell on him.”

“That is a brilliant idea, Charles,” Edwin agreed with a smile, more to tell him that they were back on the same track than anything. It sent that shiver up his spine that happened every time Edwin looked proud of him.

“We have decided to take your case, sir Pendragon,” Edwin declared as they returned to the office.

“Thank you, my kind subjects,” Arthur replied, and Charles, who was now in control of his mental faculties, had to fight to suppress a snort. He pushed all the ‘men are hot’ thoughts in one of those carefully locked boxes he had started collecting after Port Townsend to consider at a later date, or maybe never.

--

The hike to the lake where the magic sword was supposed to be was incredibly nice.

“We should do this more often, mate. I mean, mirror travel is cool and all, but look at the view!” He pointed to the mountains in the distance, the clear sky, and he felt excited like that one time he went camping with his friends when he was fifteen - before those same “friends” ended up murdering him.

Edwin put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That is a good idea, perhaps we could take a small vacation after this case is closed.”

It was nice to see Edwin like that, more open, more relaxed. Not having to fear Death separating them, or Hell coming back to take him had done wonders in improving his well-being, which made a lot of sense if Charles was honest. Now that he had seen Hell himself, he had no idea how Edwin had kept it together as well as he did for over thirty years after he escaped.

“I will have you two executed if you do not find my sword right now,” the client declared.

Charles was quick to bow, not trusting Edwin’s bedside manners enough. “We are sorry, sire, we promise we are doing everything we can.”

--

They looked everywhere on the lake and around it, Edwin even tried different spells to reveal hidden magic, but they found nothing. 

“There must be something we are missing, he does not have the object binding the curse on his person, and I can’t find anything of worth in this place,” Edwin said, moving a bit further from where Arthur was looking longingly at the middle of the lake.

“You know that sentence you wanted to write on the wall of the office? ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’, maybe he really is what he says.”

Edwin looked a very balanced mix between flustered and impressed. “While I appreciate you remembering my favourite quote, I think if King Arthur existed, we would have heard about it before.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charles conceded.

While they were going over their notes again, trying to notice something they might have overlooked, or a different spell they could use, an eerie figure appeared next to their client. It was a very pale man, all dressed in black.

The next moment, they were sprinting towards him at full speed.

“Who are you?” asked Edwin, while Charles retrieved his brand new cricket bat from the pocket universe he carried in his backpack.

The man, or being, or whatever he was, smirked, which was an odder sight than if he had manifested eyes all over his body, or a flaming wall behind him. “You must be the ghost detectives my sister is so fond of.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I am Dream of the Endless, I apologise for the inconvenience my escapee might have caused you,” he continued, ignoring Edwin’s disbelief.

“Dream of the Endless,” Charles repeated under his breath, trying to make sense of the words. “So your sister, who is fond of us is…”

“Death,” he said, matter-of-factly. “She wishes you would stay and say hi, sometimes. For now, I thank you for your service.”

He turned to keep talking to Arthur then, and after a while the two of them disappeared in a whirlwind of sand, leaving Charles and Edwin to gape at the empty space where they had been. 

“Well that was an experience,” said Charles. “So he was, what? A dream?”

“What a thought, to stop and say hi to Death,” Edwin exhaled at the same time. He was smiling his relaxed smile again, and Charles found his eyes stuck on the curve of his lips, the hint of tongue and teeth peeking from them.

“So, you fancied the once and future king?” the lips moved to form the words, before going back to that beautiful smile. 

Only when the meaning registered, Charles blinked. “What? No, of course, I-” he started, before remembering that they did promise each other no more lies, “maybe a little. Didn’t you? He looked like, I don’t know, the perfect example of man, the one you would expect to see on an advertisement for the entire species?”

Edwin pursed his lips, in that expression he made when he was trying not to laugh. “I can admit that he was objectively good looking, but, you know, blond hair and blue eyes is not really my type.”

He said it in his prim tone, the same way he would say ‘pass me that green book on supernatural diseases’, but there was no mistaking the flirtatious glint in his eyes.

Charles stopped. For a moment, it almost seemed like Edwin knew something that he didn’t even fully know himself, something carefully hidden in one of those boxes “to consider at a later date or maybe never” that he had been collecting. But flirting was like a second nature to him, so he couldn’t help but replying:

“Yeah, and what is your type?”

“Let me see,” Edwin said, slowly, carefully, stepping closer with every word. “Tall, athletic, big dark eyes, unruly hair,” he was right in front of him now, “likes to throw himself into danger to protect others, what else? Insanely clever and perceptive. Shall I continue?”

Charles took a deep breath, his eyes were fixed on the small space between them. “I think I should tell you something.”

If it was on anyone else, the fake surprised expression would have fooled him, but he knew Edwin’s eyes and smiles better than his own. He had to struggle to remain serious, even if he appreciated it for what it was: a way to give him the time to set the pace of the conversation and to take the lead.

“I have never allowed myself to think about it before, you know, with my dad being the way he was, but lately I have been noticing that I am attracted to guys as well. At first it was only one specific guy, but-” he stopped, cringing at the way it sounded, “What I mean is, I didn’t say anything because it was something too important, I had to be sure, and it’s easier to admit you can like someone when you have nothing to lose from it.”

The flirty smile turned into a soft one as Edwin said:

“You have every right to take your time and experiment, you don’t have to say anything, I apologise if-”

Charles stopped him very effectively by cupping his face with his hands. “I don’t want to experiment with anyone else, I think I’ve locked up these feelings for long enough.”

Edwin’s eyes widened, he looked like every ounce of confidence he had mustered up until then had left his body. “As much as I pride myself in my detective abilities, I need you to please say it out loud at least once. It’s been quite difficult for me to believe it, even when you were not at all subtle.”

“I like you,” Charles said immediately, wanting to erase the insecurity from his face. “I haven’t stopped thinking about your confession and what it could mean for our future, and I think I am finally ready to take you out on an official date, if you still want that.”

It was Edwin who leaned in first after that, but like it happened many other times, they met in the middle, instantly on the same wavelength again.

Distantly, almost completely hidden behind the all-encompassing sensation of Edwin holding him and their lips pressed together, Charles thought about how absurd it was that he had to thank the fucking King of Britain for finally managing to have this conversation. Edwin would tease him for all eternity.

[dani-ya-dig]

OKAY!!! IM LISTENING TO THE NEW PROJECT MERIDIAN AUDIOS SO THOUGHTS UNDER THE CUT!!

So if you like rambling click read more :D

Something’s Wrong:

“…one with– empathy” UGH THAT DROVE ME INSANE!!! I don’t even think it was intended to be such a powerful line, but I love that the asset having the ability to empathize was emphasized, especially since E’ Laetum is half of the Meridian and he (if I’m not mistaken) created Empathy demons. He is of empathy so anything that enters the meridian should be as well and that’s IFBDKDDNKDFB! Again, don’t think it was like super intentional, and I’m just reading into too much but I love that.

“Can’t get good help these days”. Old ass man. Geriatric motherfucker. Hey peepaw, do your hips hurt, I need to know if I should bring my umbrella with me when I leave the house.

OKAY THIS ISNT SILLY HAHA ANYMORE WHAT THE FUCM WAS THAT??? “Wake them up”????? “I didn’t mean to hurt anybody” ???

Also James sounded so aggressive when he asked the asset what was wrong? Hello?? Quit that.

Oh– okay– they have– they have imprisoned demons working on this. Alright. That’s– certainly something. (I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all)

Wait no how did Asset know about the Solitaries?? Hell I haven’t even heard of them since that one Vega audio from forever ago that I barely remember.

“Be diligent. Be skeptical. Be strong.” Be swift as the coursing river? Will all the force of the great typhoon? Will all the strength of a raging fire perhaps??

“Cold. An overextension. A presence unwanted. Unfeeling thing… you are not needed. You are not enough” LEAVE MY BEST FRIEND ALONE ASSHOLE! I mean, technically correct but also I LOVE THEM!

But also this is very much coming back to my point of what I was saying earlier with Empathy being a major point in making Asset!

While Asset can “feel empathy”, it’s not real empathy. It’s manufactured. An imitation of it. Not the real thing. And E’Laetum knows that. In fact when Asset was in the meridian it was mainly E’Laetum’s voice speaking, when in the past we also heard Min’ara’s voice intertwining with his own. E’Laetum immediately clicked Asset as being unfeeling, and rejected them.

Okay, so the meridian just… repelled them. Spit them back out. That could have been way worse all things considered. Frankly it’s shocking that Asset survived at all to me. I mean, I assumed that since they were made of physical matter, human or not that the Meridian would treat them as they do humans. Just completely destroy them, unravel them. So why did they?

THE PHONE RING AT THE END??? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???

I see some people in the comments talking about a time loop. God I hope that’s not the case because I will scream. Putting my bets in (as someone who sucks at theorizing) maybe none of that actually happened and was just a premonition of what was to come for Asset if they continue with what they are doing.

I mean Asset apparently already has knowledge of stuff they aren’t supposed to (solitaires being an example of this). Maybe they are having like visions from somewhere else? Although that leave the logistical question of how could you send someone a mental image if they don’t have a brain?

Someone’s Right:

HELLO?? THE RECORD PLAYER??

Erik Redacted I can never tell what you add in for cool effect and what seriously means something and it is driving me crazy.

As a horror fan I am eating well with the creepy ass distorted music though :D

ANTON!!! I MISSED YOU!

God referring to Anton as a “soft-spoken technician” was so correct. Flashbacks to how I don’t remember anything from his first audio because I couldn’t hear what he was saying. (I have audio processing issues shhhhh)

WAIT SO THE MERIDIAN JUST SPIT OUT ASSET WITHOUT HURTING THEM AT ALL??? WHAT THE FUCK?? Anton says “physical fine” implying that their hardware wasn’t damaged, or very minimally damaged at least? That’s so weird, again considering the Meridian literally physically unravels humans and destroys them when they try to go through them.

Okay so basically, Assets metaphorical brain was overloaded with information, and they are trying to evolve with that information within the proper time or means to do so. Got it.

James needs everyone out by yesterday he is so sick of this shit and just wants to see his spouse.

ohhhh so they did try to destroy Asset but couldn’t. That makes much more sense.

WAIT WHAT IS ASSET MADE OF THAT LITERAL GODS COULDNT DESTROY THEM??? That is one sturdy ass robot. God.

Backups?? Ehhh I don’t like the way James is talking about these living people with feelings and autonomyyyy

Oh so we weren’t actually worried about any damage that Asset sustained during being spit out and we’re just gonna send them back out as long as they were in one piece enough to go back in. Great! That’s not horrifying at all!

Feeding the demons with all the energy they could possibly need. Except for the serenity demons, who are probably in so much pain, lmao.

Innate want to help?? You mean that the Asset wants to do the thing they were specifically designed and then programmed to do? Yeah James, what choice do they have?

Poor Asset. That’s always what I’ve kind of thought about, since it was revealed what Asset was for. Was what happens after they get the data? Will they just be destroyed? They don’t know any life outside of their creation and purpose. At least not first hand. Not really.

HELLO??? WHAT??? JAMES??

Okay. What the metric fuck is going on??? I need someone smarter to lay this out for me because what the hell. I love project Meridian but I fear I’m far too stupid to get this.

So like… that seemed like James was reaching out to them in a dream, but he is a telepath not a dream walker (though he probably went to college he probably knows dreamwalking). But even so there is still a weird– time travel element in there and??? Huh??? I have so many questions and I need the next update NOW.

[captainsophiestark]

Time

Julia Burnsides & Kravitz

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

I wrote this as part of Through The Static: A The Adventure Zone: Balance Zine! It was such a pleasure and an honor to be a part of this project - find more @taz-balance-zine and the finished zine here!

Fandom: The Adventure Zone

Summary: In the time between the end of Story and Song and when Magnus joins Julia in the afterlife, Julia spends those years by herself well, and builds an unexpected friendship with the Grim Reaper himself.

Word Count: 3,588

Category: Fluff, maybe a little Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Julia gasped as her head broke the surface of the suffocating darkness, trying to get air into her lungs. It had felt like dying again, but she'd already been dead. The Hunger closing in, engulfing everyone and everything in the Astral plane, even the spirits floating peacefully through the calm waters below. She put her hands on her hips and closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself now that it was apparently over.

And then she realized: she was breathing. Not only that, but she had enough of a solid form, standing on solid ground, to be able to lean over and catch her breath. She hadn't felt that once since her death in Raven's Roost all those years ago.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. She stood on a patch of grass, greener and more alive than should've been possible in the midst of a swirling ocean of souls.

She frowned, looking around for any clues as to what was going on. What if this was still some part of the Hunger's invasion? A kind of hallucination before being dragged into that hopeless mass?

Julia huffed. No way. If nothing else, she knew her husband. And even within that swirling mass, drowning in an ocean of darkness, she heard the song echoing across the universe, telling the story of him and his friends. They were going to win. Nothing about this moment of tranquility could have anything to do with the Hunger.

A moment later, Julia's assessment was proved right. A portal opened before her, and none other than the Grim Reaper himself stepped out.

"Hello, Julia," he said, a bright smile on his human-looking face. She'd met him twice before, first when he led her here and then, years later, when he delivered a message from Magnus.

"Kravitz. What happened? What's going on?"

"We won, Julia. The Hunger is no more."

Julia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, a smile pulling its way onto her face as the single breath turned into a delirious laugh.

"That's fantastic. I knew he could do it..."

"I didn't come here just to celebrate, although that's certainly part of it," Kravitz continued, taking a step towards Julia. She didn't move an inch. "For Magnus's part in all this... the Raven Queen is giving the two of you a gift. She's giving you time."

Julia raised an eyebrow as Kravitz stepped toward her again, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smile. A light breeze blew past them, ruffling Julia's hair and bringing the fresh scent of a cool spring day. Not once since her death had Julia felt anything like that down here.

"It won't last forever. At some point, I have to finish my work and bring you and Magnus to join the rest of the souls here. But until then, you get to stay here, and after what is hopefully a long life, Magnus will join you. I'll make sure you have enough time when he does. That you get the time you didn't have before."

Julia's heart leaped in her chest, a smile pulling its way onto her face. It still felt like a fever dream for a moment, the grass under her feet and the Hunger completely vanquished. But she knew it wasn't. They'd earned this time, Magnus had earned it. And some day, hopefully many years from now, they'd get their time together.

She wanted to be ready when the time came.

"Kravitz... I'm going to need to ask you a favor." He raised an eyebrow, but waited patiently for her to continue. "More specifically, I'm going to need some materials. And tools. If I'm getting time, then I don't plan to spend it sitting around and waiting for Magnus to join me here."

Slowly, a smile spread across Kravitz's face. He nodded.

"I think I can get you what you're looking for."

Julia grinned. Whether Magnus rushed into danger and joined her in a week or lived a long, full life, she had work to do building the things they'd only ever been able to dream about. And she couldn't wait to get started.

****************

Julia frowned, all of her focus locked in on the saw in her hands as she pulled it back and forth, tearing a clean cut in the wood in front of her. She'd had to spend some time in her afterlife building back the muscles of a carpenter (although she wasn't totally sure how she had muscles at all), but now, she barely worked up a sweat at her workbench. The cut was clean, the part of the wood she didn't need falling to the ground as she straightened up with a huff.

"Julia."

She froze at the sound of Kravitz's voice. She'd seen him a few times since the Day of Story and Song, but mostly in passing. If he was here, calling her name to draw her attention, the most likely reason was Magnus.

She whirled around just in time to be knocked flat by a massive, enthusiastic dog.

She blinked, trying to get her bearings now that her back was flat on the grass, right next to the piece of wood she'd discarded earlier. The dog kept licking her face even as Kravitz hurried and reached for him.

"I'm sorry," muttered Kravitz, finally managing to get the dog's collar back on and pulling him off of Julia. "He slipped his leash and just made a break for you."

"That's alright," said Julia, rubbing her head as she sat up in the grass. She looked from Kravitz to the still-wiggling dog now back on its leash. "But... what's going on? Why are you here with a dog?"

Kravitz shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smile all the same.

"This is Yohan, Magnus's first dog. I couldn't think of anywhere better for him to go."

Julia grinned, at last standing up and brushing herself off before moving close enough to Yohan to pet him. He settled down a little at the attention, content to wiggle happily in place so Julia could keep petting him. She looked up at Kravitz.

"I'm glad you brought him. But... did you say he's Mags's first dog?"

"Of many," Kravitz confirmed. "I think you're going to need to prepare yourself to take care of... quite a few pets before Magnus joins you here."

Julia laughed. "That sounds like Magnus. Does that mean... has he settled down? You told me not too long ago you thought he wouldn't make it to forty."

Kravitz smiled. "I think he's going to have a little bit longer than that. He opened a school for dogs, and he seems to have calmed down at least somewhat. He's going to have a lot to tell you about when he gets here."

"Good." Julia gave Yohan a few last pets, then took a deep breath and straightened, her hands on her hips as she looked at Kravitz. "Alright, Mr. Grim Reaper. I'm happy to take care of the menagerie Magnus collects, but I'm going to need some help."

"If you'll take Yohan, I already have a list. Dog food, bowls, a bed, and anything else you can think of."

"What's the matter, Kravitz?" Julia asked, teasing as she took Yohan's leash. "Not a dog person?"

"I'm happy to help you take care of them, but I admit, I do prefer cats."

"Well, I don't know as much about those, so get some tips ready for me in case Magnus ever brings one home."

"Will do." Kravtiz smiled, then continued in a softer voice, angling his head towards Julia. "Is there anything else you need me to bring you back? For Yohan or otherwise?"

Julia paused to think, then turned back to Kravitz with a grin.

"How about some ice cream? A tub for yourself, too. I think we both deserve to sit on the porch and enjoy a moment's peace after wrangling the first of many incoming creatures from my wonderful husband."

Kravtiz laughed, his brows raising in surprise, before he met Julia's eyes again with a matching grin of his own.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. I'll be right back."

****************

Julia leaned over the table, her nose almost pressed into the wood before her. Now that the house behind her actually looked like a complete house, she got to do the fun part: making it a work of art. And right now, that meant getting the intricate birds and flowers carved into the wood of the front door just right.

"Julia."

She didn't react at the sound of Kravitz's voice a few steps away. Her heart leapt at the thought that he might have Magnus with him, but if she lost focus now, she'd have to scrap and rework her entire design. She'd spent too long perfecting her craft to make a rookie mistake like that.

Her tongue poked out between her teeth as she finished the last cut against the wood, then she let out a sigh, her shoulders dropping as she straightened up and pulled her hands back from the project in front of her. Kravtiz stood looking uncharacteristically antsy, hands moving as he shifted his weight between his feet. He was alone this time, no husband, dogs, or any other soul in tow. Julia put her hands on her hips and gave him a smile.

"Hi, Kravtiz. Sorry about that, I just needed to finish the petals of that rose lest I make a mistake and end up having to redo the whole thing. What brings you by? Don't tell me Magnus adopted some kind of invisible creature that's joining my menagerie?"

"No. I actually... well, I came by to get your opinion on something."

Julia raised an eyebrow as Kravitz flashed her a weak smile. She returned a much stronger one, then stepped out from behind the work table to give him her full attention.

"I'm happy to give an opinion, although I can't promise it'll be a qualified one depending on the topic."

Kravtiz cleared his throat, glancing from his shoes and back to her before taking a deep breath.

"Taako and I have a date tonight. He planned the whole thing, but he's refusing to tell me anything about the details. It feels... important. I'm supposed to be leaving soon, but, well..."

"Spit it out, Kravitz," said Julia with a smile. He huffed, glancing up before his eyes met hers again.

"...How does my outfit look? I want a second opinion, and I love Taako, but he's worn pajama pants to a date night before, and he keeps insisting that giving feedback on my outfit might 'spoil' his plan for tonight."

Julia raised her eyebrows, but quickly recovered from her surprise, stepping back to give Kratiz's outfit a onceover. He put a hand on his hip, extending one leg in a casual pose, and Julia scanned everything from the shoes to the jacket to the rings. Finally, she met his eyes again, giving him a nod.

"It's excellent, Kravitz. You look sharp, sleek, and very stylishly put together. Not that you don't always look wonderful, but the added accessories, the lack of dog hair on your black clothes since the last time I saw you... it's looking like a step above."

Kravitz grinned. "You're sure? You're not just saying that?"

"I'm not just saying that," she said, smiling and drawing and x over her heart. "You look outstanding. Although, if I may? You brought Taako here for a vacation. If that didn't phase him, I think you could show up in clothes that haven't been washed in weeks and he wouldn't go running."

Kravitz huffed a laugh. "That's a fair point. I just... I really care about him. Tonight seems important to him. I want it to be as perfect as he's been picturing."

"I'm sure it will be." She stepped forward, resting a comforting hand on Kravtiz's shoulder and giving him a smile. "And even if it's not, you'll have a story to tell. Some of my favorite memories with Magnus came out of our plan for the evening going to absolute shit, which led to us having an amazing adventure instead."

The corner of Kravitz's mouth pulled up in a smile, and he gave a small nod.

"Thank you, Julia. Really. I appreciate it."

"Of course. I'm here if you need me, Kravitz. Now get out of here. You don't want to be late for your date. And feel free to come back here after! Now I'm invested in what this surprise is."

"I promise I'll come back and let you know," he said.

"Good. I'll have snacks waiting, and hopefully a finished front door to my house."

****************

Julia grunted, using all her strength to maintain pressure on the corkscrew. After a moment, it gave way with a satisfying pop. Julia grinned.

She hummed to herself as she poured two glasses of wine, a new vintage that Kravitz had brought with him. It would be hard to beat the one he'd brought a few weeks ago, but still. Worth a try, right?

As Julia returned to the living room carrying both glasses, the excited yapping from her dogs welcomed her, although they came to an abrupt stop a reproachful meow from Kravtiz's cat, who'd come along for their monthly visit. Julia turned the corner to find the dogs panting, tails wagging, clearly trying to convince the cat to join their cuddle puddle.

They'd never been successful before, but at least they were determined.

"For you, my friend," said Julia, handing over Kravitz's wine glass with a smile before settling into the couch opposite him.

"Thank you, Julia. This is exactly what I needed. You know I love Lup and Barry, but... sometimes they can be quite the headache to work with."

"Happy to help, Krav. You're always welcome to come here and take a break with me."

Kravitz gave Julia a soft smile, then lifted his wine glass to her.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

In sync, the pair swirled the wine around in their glasses, smelling and appreciating it as well as any sommelier on any plane. Not long after Julia had finished the most important pieces of the house--the walls, floors, and some nicer furnishings inside--she and Kravitz had started a monthly routine of getting together, relaxing, trying a nice wine, and just talking, until both of them were too tired to continue. It hadn't even been going for a full year yet, but it had become almost sacred time to both of them.

After another moment of sniffing and swirling, Julia and Kravtiz nodded, silently toasting to each other, then each took a sip. Julia rolled the wine around on her palette, tasting everything it had to offer before swallowing and turning her attention to Kravtiz. She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"...Not quite as good as the one we had last month. But still, quite good."

"My thoughts exactly."

The two shared a smile, a comfortable silence settling over the both of them. While Julia could (and often did) talk for hours with Kravitz, they could also be perfectly comfortable just existing together in a moment of peace. Even the pets seemed to understand the energy, settling in on the rug and the unoccupied chairs.

Julia took a deep breath, letting her eyes wander around the room. She'd built this, from the ground up, with her own hands. What had started as an empty patch of grass and time, she'd turned into a home. Sure, there were still things she wanted to do. Things she wanted to add, things she thought she could improve. But with a cozy fire in the fireplace, Kravitz and a whole pack of dogs from Magnus settled into comfortable furniture in the living room, and overarching sense of peace she hadn't felt since before she knew Governor Kalen's name, it was pretty darn close to perfect.

She couldn't wait to show it to Magnus.

"You know... as this wine is opening up a little more, it's beginning to grow on me."

Julia hummed, turning her attention back to Kravitz and taking another sip herself.

"You're right. But it still doesn't come close to the other one you found."

"Give it time. Who knows what it might turn into?"

Kravitz gave Julia a little smile over the top of his wine glass, one eyebrow raised. Julia laughed.

"Does being a Grim Reaper give you mind reading powers, Kravitz?" she teased. He shook his head, his smile growing into a grin.

"No. But I've gotten to know you well enough to be able to read some of those looks. You should be proud of this place, Julia."

"I am."

Kravitz held his wine glass out to Julia, and she mirrored the gesture with a smile. The clink of the glasses echoed through the room over the gentle crackling of the fire.

"So... when Magnus eventually joins you here, are we going to keep up our wine nights?"

"Absolutely we will! Magnus doesn't drink, but I'm sure he'd be happy to sit down and talk with us anyway. Or, we can send him off with the dogs and you, me, and the cat can take a moment of quiet together."

Kravitz grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"Good, because I mean it. You've become a good friend over the years, Kravitz. I still expect to see you while Magnus and I are enjoying our gift from the Raven Queen together."

"You've become an outstanding friend to me, Julia. I'm glad to know I'll have more time with you after Magnus joins you."

"Of course. And you'd better come visit, or else Magnus and I will have to take the risk of running afowl of the Raven Queen by breaking out of here and coming to track you down."

Kravitz threw his head back and laughed. "I promise, for both our sakes, that I won't make that necessary."

Julia gave him a coy smile as she took another sip of her wine."

"Probably for the best."

****************

"Julia."

She could tell from the tone of Kravitz's voice alone that this was it. The call, so to speak. She finished patting down the dirt on the last of the bright red flowers she'd planted outside the house, trying to steady herself with a deep breath as she stood and turned to face your friend.

Magnus wasn't with him, but Kravitz's whole countenance radiated the grimness associated with a Grim Reaper. She took a half-step forward, then stopped short.

"It's almost time," Kravitz said, reading the question on her face. Slowly, arms out like he was ready to catch her if she fell, Kravitz closed the rest of the distance between them. He stopped just before Julia and put a hand on her shoulder. "When I leave here, it will be to pick up Magnus. He's lived a long, happy life Julia, but he's still human. It's time for him to pass from his home world on to the next."

Julia nodded, her head swimming a little. Too many emotions were competing for top spot. She was elated to be so close to seeing Magnus again, sad that it meant his life was ending, and a little bit nervous, since it had been so long since they'd seen each other. The dogs were going to be so happy, he was going to be so happy, she couldn't wait to show him the house, she'd put together a few ideas of projects for them to work on together when he got here and they'd just been collecting dust but now she needed to dig them out-

"Julia." Kravitz gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, grounding her back in the moment. Julia took a deep breath. "Are you okay?"

Slowly, Julia nodded. She took another deep breath, then brought her gaze up to meet Kravitz's eyes. The corner of her mouth tugged up in a smile.

"I'm okay, Krav."

"...Okay. I stopped by to give you warning, and to see if there's anything else you need? Anything I can help you with, anything I can get you? I can't delay Magnus's passing, but I have time to do a good friend a favor."

"Thanks," Julia said, her smile growing as the initial storm settled a little in her mind. A warm sort of glow had started in her chest. She and Magnus were about to get their time. "I'm alright, though. I've been prepared for a long time for this."

"Yes, you have."

She and Kravitz shared a smile, and then he took a step back.

"One more thing I should tell you... Magnus doesn't know about the Raven Queen's gift, yet. We decided it was best to wait, and tell him when it naturally came to be his time."

Julia nodded. "Probably for the best. I can't wait to see his face."

"Well, I won't keep you waiting, then."

Kravitz gave her one last smile, then disappeared to go get Magnus. Julia watched him go, the warm feeling no longer entirely about Magnus. He knew her; he knew she'd need a heads up, and he'd made sure she got it. She'd have to give him a hug the next time she saw him.

With that, Julia turned and headed back inside. She'd had decades to plan the day Magnus finally joined her here, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She let the dogs out into the yard, then pulled out the supplies Kravitz had brought years ago, bubbly apple cider and Magnus's favorite pastries that never went bad in this magical limbo.

Once Magnus arrived, their clock from the Raven Queen would start running. Kravitz had warned her she couldn't stay here forever. But whether they got a day, a year, or another lifetime, Julia knew they'd be happy with every second spent in the second life she'd built, dogs, cats, Grim Reapers, and all.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21 @diego42

[fleetsonourgecentral]

A request: Ebony celebrates Fleetway Super birthday along with the freedom Fighthers celebrathing Sonic's birthday (so Super and Sonic share a birthday celebration :D) but Scourge IS jealous because he doesn't get any gifts

Adfjdasfjds Scourge being jealous for petty reasons my beloved

~~~

"This doesn't seem fair," Scourge grumbled, folding his arms and glaring at his surroundings like he could set the decorations alight with his eyes alone. Unfortunately, getting zapped by the Master Emerald didn't seem to grant him those powers, but hey, it was always worth double checking.

"Life isn't fair," Sonic said, smug smirk fully plastered on his face as he lounged on his throne for the day. The throne in question was nothing more than an old armchair fished out of the dump, and was covered in rips and clearly falling apart, but it was clean (thanks to Tekno's efforts) and it was the nicest chair the Freedom Fighters owned, so they made do.

Scourge was surprised they were putting in the effort at all. Sonic's ego was so big it was a wonder his head didn't swell and become too heavy for his body to carry; there was really no need to stroke his ego by giving him a throne.

For some reason, though, the Freedom Fighters, despite usually being extremely enthusiastic about keeping Sonic's ego in check, had decided today was an exception. It was his birthday, after all.

"How did you even get all this?" Scourge said. Thankfully, none of the cheesy "happy birthday" banners had been strung up on the wall - those were dumped on Ebony's doorstep - but in their place were custom-made banners proudly congratulating the Hero of Mobius on another year of victory over Robotnik. Over the top and unnecessary, considering the victory in question was mostly just his continued survival, and thus his continued ability to be a future pain in the ass.

Not that Robotnik didn't have it coming, but still.

"We made them!" Tails chirped from where he was stringing up another banner, this one declaring today as Sonic Day. "Tekno designed most of the banner so it would look cool enough that Sonic won't complain, and then Amy and I helped decide what they should say, and then we all painted them together!"

"And you didn't invite me?"

"We both know you would've told us all to fuck off if we asked you to help," Amy said, although the teasing smile on her face showed her comment was light-hearted instead of irritated. Gross.

"These aren't new, anyway," Tekno said. "We made these before you arrived, so you couldn't have helped. Unless you found a way to time travel. If you find an easy way to time travel, let me know?"

"Sure, whatever."

And now that Scourge was looking, the banners did seem a little worn. Small rips on the edges, colors dulled, the paper crinkled; obviously reused over the years. He nudged one of the banners crumpled on the floor with his foot, then picked it up to inspect it, holding it with his thumb and forefinger. Sonic's painted winking face greeted him, and Scourge sneered at it. On the back of the banner, he could see a cluster of signatures. Some he recognised - Tails and Amy - while some he'd never heard of - who in the world was Shortfuse? - and some... well, some were just initials, none of which he recognised. He certainly didn't remember any friends of Sonic's who went by J.L.

"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help?" Amy said, lightly elbowing him as she passed, snatching the banner from his hands.

"What's it look like? I'm gonna stand here."

"No you're not. Help Tekno bring the gifts in."

"I'm not participating in this. You do shit like this then wonder why he's an arrogant dickhead."

"Is it arrogance if it's justified?" Sonic said.

"Justify my foot up your ass," Scourge said, just as Tekno dragged him away.

The pile of presents was bigger than it had any right to be. The Freedom Fighters didn't have much money - apparently fighting for the safety of the entire fucking planet doesn't pay well, or at all, which is bullshit and all the more reason for Scourge to find the whole thing stupid - so none of them could really afford to go all-out with the presents, but the bulk of the pile came from local civilians who had caught wind of the celebration and wanted to express their gratitude. Over the past week during their travels, civilians would stop them, shyly handing over presents and telling them they were for Sonic's birthday, a token of their appreciation for constantly saving their asses, because they couldn't be bothered to do it themselves.

No one said that last bit out loud, but Scourge always made sure to mentally add it.

Why they couldn't express their gratitude with some fucking cash, he did not know.

"Grab the presents by the table?" Tekno said, scooping presents into her arms. For what it was worth, although the pile was bigger than one would expect, at least most of the presents were small.

Groaning with all the contempt he could muster, Scourge shuffled over to the table and started tucking presents under his arms.

"Did you drop off everything at Ebony's?" Tekno said. Her voice was low, hidden by the rustle of the presents, only loud enough for Scourge to hear. Not that he thought Sonic could hear them when they were out here, but better safe than sorry.

"Whaddya take me for? Of course I did," Scourge said, voice equally low, although that was more for Tekno's peace of mind than his own. She'd shush him if she thought he was being too loud, but she was also really bad at shushing people quietly, and ended up attracting attention with her shushes more often than not. It was really counterproductive. Scourge didn't know why Sonic had let it slide for this long.

"Just making sure."

Scourge grunted, but he did give the rest of the presents an obligatory once-over, just to be sure there weren't any that shouldn't be there.

Super's birthday fell on the same day as Sonic's. It was why all the cheesy banners had been dumped on Ebony instead of in the trash where they belonged. The Freedom Fighters - okay, mostly Tekno - thought it was a good idea to send a few presents over from all of them, as a gesture of goodwill and minor bribery to please not turn evil and try to kill them all again. It was a plan Sonic had been conveniently left out of; even with their less strained relationship (although that really wasn't saying much) it was blatantly obvious he still wasn't fond of Super. He wouldn't stop them from giving him birthday presents, or wanting to wish him a happy birthday, but he would wrinkle his nose and mutter a comment under his breath, which was apparently a problem, although Scourge hadn't figured out why.

Ebony had asked if they wanted to stop by, even tentatively offered a joint birthday celebration if that would make things easier, but she was swiftly turned down. Presents were a safe bet, the Freedom Fighters had agreed, because they could be dropped off at any time, and Sonic would never have to know, and they could wish Super a happy birthday without ever leaving Sonic's side on the actual day. And they could send Scourge to be their little delivery boy so none of them would have to do it; despite the olive branch, Tails and Amy were still wary of Super. Apparently Scourge and (somehow) Tekno were the only ones who weren't little bitches about him.

Well, Sonic wasn't a little bitch exactly, but he wasn't as cool and casual about Super as he wanted to be. So he didn't count.

"I'm just saying," Scourge said, hefting as many presents into his arms as he could, "if you're going to make the decorations look like a 'congrats on kicking ass without dying' celebration, we should all be getting presents."

"It's not your birthday, though."

"I'm his boyfriend, though. Shouldn't I get, like, a solidarity present?"

"No, because it isn't your birthday."

Scourge bit back a comment about how if Super got to have a birthday just because he was another Sonic, then logically, so should he. Because, well, it wasn't his birthday, even though all the celebration really made it feel like it should be. He thought birthdays for Sonics were the same across all dimensions - he was pretty sure he shared a birthday with Prime, eugh - but apparently not.

With another exaggerated groan, he shuffled back into the living room with the presents towering high above him, because second trips were for chumps, and dumped them at Sonic's feet. His own gift wasn't in there, but only because he'd already given it to Sonic this morning. The moment he woke up, in fact. Scourge wasn't about to be beaten by anyone in anything, including being the first person to give Sonic a gift.

Not that it was anything special. Scourge wasn't exactly rolling in money either, and Sonic was a pain in the ass to shop for. Humiliation had nipped at his heels when he handed the gift over, ready to burn him, but Sonic seemed to really like it - underneath the obligatory layer of snark - so it was fine.

Probably.

He eyed the pile of presents again, and tried not to gnaw on his lip.

Some of the civilians who gave them presents looked... well, not well-off, but comfortable. Not rich, not even close to rich, but able to at least afford something nice for the Hero of Mobius. More than Scourge could afford.

More than any of the Freedom Fighters could afford, though, and Sonic didn't really give a shit about his fans outside of the inherent bragging rights that come with having fans in the first place. None of those civilians knew what Sonic liked. The Freedom Fighters did. Scourge did.

He doubted any civilian signatures were on the back of the banner he picked up.

A party thrown by civilians probably wouldn't look like this at all. That would be far more elaborate, with more people pitching in to help, even more vomit-worthy banners and decorations hung from every wall and banister, singing the praises of Sonic the Hedgehog. Over the top, and licking his ass, and making a huge deal out of him. Exactly the kind of celebration Sonic would like; he always loved it when people lavished him with praise for his efforts in saving the world, the arrogant bastard.

Sonic didn't have any of that, this year. Oh, sure, the party would stroke his ego, but it wasn't lavish. Compared to what he could have, it was almost humble.

But. He didn't look upset by it. Didn't even feign annoyance that it wasn't as big as it could be.

Scourge couldn't remember any of his own birthdays looking like this growing up. No friends surrounding him, bickering as they hung birthday banners or fetched presents or argued over the cake. No shitty birthday chair fished out of the dump. No lavish party to sing his praises. His birthdays weren't humble like this one, but they weren't extravagant, either.

They were... cold. Empty. There was no soul in the presents, no warmth in the candle of the cake. No signatures on the back of a hand-made birthday banner.

Scourge swallowed down the ugly feeling in his stomach.

Whatever. He didn't need any of that shit. He was Scourge the fucking Hedgehog, he knew exactly how great he was. Who needed a giant party? Not him. He wasn't that fragile.

"Scowl any harder and your face will get stuck."

Scourge flipped Sonic off without even looking. "Eat shit, birthday boy."

"Are you sulking because Pixel Brain jumped on you this morning when he came to wish me a happy birthday?"

"He crushed my fucking ribs," Scourge complained, glad for something to focus on. The interruption had been rude, and Tails was fortunate they were already awake; had he done that shit while Scourge was still asleep, he would've gotten an ass full of quills.

"Right. And you're definitely not sulking because you wanted to cuddle."

"I don't cuddle."

"Bullshit you don't."

"I don't. You have no proof."

"Then you're gonna start."

Before Scourge could say a word of protest, Sonic grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him onto his lap.

"Fuck off and let me go," Scourge snapped, shifting to get comfortable.

"It's my birthday," Sonic said, smirking his stupid, smug, victorious grin. "That means you have to do what I say."

"I'm not doing shit, you can't tell me what to do, birthday or not," Scourge said, leaning further into Sonic when he wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

"You'll get the chair when it's your birthday, if it's any consolation."

"Fuck the chair! What about my presents?"

"We'll see."

"Asshole," Scourge grumbled, biting Sonic lightly on the shoulder to emphasize his point, but he only got an amused chuckle in return.

"You're getting off when the cake gets here," Sonic said.

Huffing, Scourge snuggled further into Sonic. They'd see about that.

[daedalusdavinci]

MY Davekat Fic Recs

i read everythign in the davekat tag a couple years back. yeah. everything. the whole bitch. it was a couple of years ago, so that might date this post, but heres a bunch of fics that i thought were so good i put a little note on them in my bookmarks about how hard they went

>Dave: survive three years on this rock

by MadSeason

Growing up on a flying meteor is hard work. You know this from experience. TG: dude what is this piece of shit you just sent me CG: TO PUT IT IN YOUR HUMAN TERMS: CG: IT’S A FUCKING LOVE STORY, DAVE. Well, it's a bit more than that.

this is a meteor fic, and youve read any davekat fics, thats a summary in of itself. however, from what i remember, this particular meteor fic goes really hard bc it does such a good job of building dave and karkats relationships with the other meteor residents and it leans hard into dave and roses friendship which is so important to me, bc guys they are BEST friends and theyre just so ; ; its just important ok. also according to the note i left for myself on this fic it made me cry a lot so thats always good

catch me, keep me

by CurlicueCal (@curlicuecal on tumblr)

Dave drops by the twinkle vermin class transport-ship Calliope to visit Captain Crocker and her crew. He engages Jake for some repair work, bugs his brothers of the corporeal and non-corporeal varieties, and stops in to harass chat with Karkat. Absolutely no flirting ensues.

frankly everything curlicuecal writes goes hard as fuck, so write that one down. read everything. they never miss. they are SO good at handling side characters and dealing w the complexities of homestuck characters, never shying away from the things that make them miserable little assholes. their fics are always so fun + funny and this is a really good one

just two guys being dudes being moirails and smooching a little

by MisPronounce_and_MisAccent

DAVE: yeah id be down DAVE: just two guys being dudes being moirails and smooching a little im not opposed DAVE: if youre cool with that A few options flit across your mind. The first is picking up the couch cushion next to you and screaming into it for a solid minute. The next is just screaming, sans-pillow. The third is, of course, throwing in the towel and flinging yourself off the meteor, because it is abundantly fucking apparent that you possess an inherent incapability to maintain any simple, good relationship without getting your feelings in a bullshit fucking twist. You decide to do none of this.

if you are like me and you really really love fics where they blur the lines between romantic and platonic and flushed and pale, this is the one. this is the fic.

Car Accident Blues

by ode

Dave Strider is good at looking fly, but he sure isn't good at not getting run over!

fuck i remember this one actually. its really short but its SO fucking funny

midnight soliloquy

by apocalypticTaco

If you had the time, you could wax poetic about every inch of him. Well, it’s past midnight. You could spare a few minutes to wax. If someone asked you what was it specifically about Karkat that you fall head over heels over, you honestly could not tell. It's everything.

its short and sweet, really cute fluffpiece. i CANNOT remember this users tumblr un anymore but they were huge in the davekat fandom for a while and they have a really good grasp on dave and karkat as characters which makes all of their davekat fics hit hard. highly recommend checking out their whole page rlly

We've Got Time

by acedavestrider (@acedavestrider on tumblr i think)

He’s very pointedly trying not to smile, trying not to give you the satisfaction of knowing you made him smile, but his eyes completely give him away. They’re far too fond to give any sort of impression other than absolutely smitten, regardless of how hard he’s trying to seem annoyed, and the way he blinks at you - quickly like he’s trying to clear his vision, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re real or if he’s imagining you - is enough to make your heart swoop in your chest.

another REALLY cute sweet one. honestly i think this is one of my favorite davekat fics ever. acedavestrider writes some of the best davekat in general and you should 100% read all of their stuff, because it ALL goes this hard. ofc anyone w a un this good is bound to have a good grasp on the characters so like what more do you even need me to say

Fait Accompli(cation)

by IntelligentAirhead (@dragonomatopoeia on tumblr, but im p sure it was cowritten w someone else? dunno theirs)

In Which a Mutant and an Alien Meander Towards a Quadrant of Indeterminate Identity at a Glacial Pace While Examining the Internalized Toxicity Perpetuated by Their Respective Societies, and The Nature of Friendship is Determined to Be More Universal Than Originally Theorized [Banned In Alternia]

this IS the best davekat fanfiction. this is the one. ive read it multiple times and its good each time. im just going to copy my notes straight from ao3 on this one, i think theyre from a second reread some time after the first

"ok this does slap. this slaps super hard. its a meteorstuck fic wherein karkat and dave both have to question toxic ideas theyve internalized from their own planets and eventually fall in love and get together. no one is delegated to rosemary therapist, all of the charas are beautiful and just as important, and the characterization is so flawless it couldve been written by hussie himself. this TOTALLY holds up, holy shit

"#literally the most beautiful piece of prose known to man"

The Eurydice Suite, v2.0

by callmearcturus (@callmearcturus on tumblr)

Dream-sharing: a highly illegal little industry in which agents delve into people's dreams, and unearth their deepest secrets and memories. Within this business, the Strider-Lalondes are known as the best there is — until Dirk Strider gets his fool-ass trapped within the confines of his own subconscious, with his Auto-Responder playing malicious prison warden. To save him, the best and brightest dreamers in the world will have to form a team. Backed by the token rich friend, lead by the surliest extractor ever bribed out of retirement, haunted by the shade of the latest, greatest agent in the biz, and on the run through a dangerous tiered dream in a hostile mind... It's going to take a miracle to pull this one off.

ive read this one so many times and honestly its still really good. the writing style is fantastic and i have spent many a year trying to capture the same beautiful atmosphere arc does. its a really creative au with really cool ideas about classpects and the characterization in this fic is awesome

Crash Standing

by Asuka Kureru (@asukaskerian on tumblr)

It's been eight days since the end of Sburb and Davesprite is not coping especially well.

ive already listed my favorite davekat fic, but THIS is my favorite homestuck fic period of all time ever the end. this is the best one. this is the ONLY one, as far as im concerned. you dont want to know how many times ive reread this fic ok. i love davesprite/karkat way more than i love dave/karkat (bc you know me w my doomed characters) and the way this author handles the interpersonal relationships between not just karkat and ds but also like ds and all of the OTHER characters is SO. GOOD. davesprite and kanayas relationship in particular lives in my brain rent free at all fucking times oh my god they are so perfect. shes so perfect. i love kanaya so much in this. oh my god and JOHN. the senor strider thing is so fucking funny sldkjfnsdf just. AUGH. its such a good fic just trust me ok just trust me

there are probably more i could recommend but its been so long since i read them im just going to stick to these bc like. man. i do NOT remember some of the bookmarks ive got in there anymore. ask me again when i finally snap and reread homestuck

[nightwings-neighbour]

‘leave me alone’ updates page

a/n: not including everything written for obvious reasons, but these r my fav bits i wrote, and how much i have done.

"Brett has gotten a lot of weird looks today. He’d slept over at Reag’s place without spare clothes so he was currently wearing a too-tight M.I.T shirt and a pair of quite possibly the most disgusting sweats he’s ever seen in his life. It was a pretty common sight around Incognito by now, so he’s not too sure why people are staring. He has spare clothes in his office that he quickly changes into before making the quick walk to the meeting room, finding everyone but Myc and Reagan."

"“That is 14 long hours of undocumented activity that I wasn't present for!” He waves his hands a bit as he speaks, adding the pizzazz they all lacked. Glenn made a face when he was done, muttering something about drones under his breath that Brett couldn’t quite catch."

tw under the cut: explosives? i guess? idk i wanted to be careful

"“Okay, enough Myc, are we all ready to plant explosive palm trees today?”"

i got like roughly 23 sentences, plus a bunch of random dialogue i need to flesh out (so 23/18)

"“What do you mean?” He replied, asking for some clarification. Maybe she meant ‘a thing’ like one combined mutation, although Brett thinks the answer to that would be obvious seeing as they aren’t a combined green monster of hot cheetos. Oh yeah, he needs to buy more of those, he ate all of Reagan's last night. 

“Are you and Reagan a couple?” Oh. So she did mean it like that. That was weird. 

“A couple of awesome dudes!” He clarified, a bright smile still plastered on his face, despite his confusion. Where on earth would they have gotten that idea from? He’d need to ask Reagan this afternoon at their weekly donut-and-destruction hang out. He eats donuts whilst she breaks things, it’s always a good time."

"“None of your responses were actual answers.” Myc deadpanned, but his amusement was obvious as he put out his cigarettes that he was probably not supposed to be smoking on the plane. Reagan had finally put her phone down, rubbing her temples slightly. Brett frowned a bit watching her, he’d check on her later.

“This is really funny to watch,” Andre began, probably about to spout something about how Brett’s concern could be misinterpreted when Reagan started to join in the conversation. Gigi quickly made her way back into the seat. Okay, it seems they finally got it. Reagan and Brett were just friends, best friends.

“What’s funny?” She queried, watching Andre quickly start fumbling around with his coat and Glenn go back to his screen. That he wasn’t supposed to have. Brett could see her resist a sigh, probably too tired to deal with it. He went to tell her when Gigi chimed in.

“Nothing Reags! Andre just accidentally drank some of Myc’s, uh, stuff.” Brett made a face at her words, both at the vision of her lie, and at the lie itself. Her voice was perfectly even, and he probably would’ve believed it if he wasn’t a part of the lie. He went to clarify what actually happened when Myc and Andre started fighting. 

Apparently Gigi wasn’t lying, just telling a different truth. Brett did not want to know how Andre got his hands on any of Myc’s bio-sorbet-stuff."

okay despite all my other wips bein actually painful to work on, i got a shit ton done here. (41/9 done :p)

" “Oi! Not on the jet,” Reagan scolded, also looking mildly disgusted at the information. Myc had continued muttering, sounding scandalised, for the rest of the trip. Andre seemed perfectly content, even with the currently forming black eye that Brett knows has to hurt. 

They’d landed safely, all taking their things and the explosives safely within the jet. They needed to see where the most dire need for them was before they started planting them willy-nilly. Brett easily forgot about the confusing conversation he’d just had, instead rambling to Reagan about the beach and how cool it’d be if lightning struck. The beach could turn glass! "

okay, usually i have heaps of motivation for this one, but i was dead on my feet apparently so :( (7/12 done)

[crystallizsch]

HI!! jumping in here because I’m pretty awkward starting convos and those ask prompts were perfect for breaking the ice

I get the feeling you’ll get a lot of jamil asks so I’m gonna throw a curve ball and ask about deuce with 9 and 18 (since it seems like you also like heartslabyul hehe)

AA HI HII!! It’s so cool to finally talk with you! And aaah i get it, i feel similarly hfkdjsks but it makes me happy that you decided to send an ask thank you! 😭💖

ANYWAYS DEUCE YES and you’re right i love heartslabyul, especially the duo, so thanks for this!

jamil my beloved he needs to take a back seat again for a bit afklsjs

━━━━━━✦ 9. Could you be roommates with [Deuce]?

I’ve roomed with siblings my whole life (at least up until college) so i think i totally could be roommates with Deuce! idk he gives little brother vibes despite being an only child

Something that reminded me, I checked to see and in the 2nd halloween event, apparently he grinds his teeth in his sleep (which is probably a whole thing to address??? but i dont know much to give an opinion ;;;)

anyways i’m pretty used to noises at night and the general shenanigans that comes with rooming with younger siblings (there’s no privacy but admittedly it’s less lonely) (but i do prefer privacy). and I imagine deuce anyway to be the respectful type and just tries his best to be considerate

but yeah in any case i could be roommates with him if I didnt have the choice to room alone akjdksjsks

Also slight tangent i looked up his room and damn it’s so neat???

he has a ton of books this boy 😭😭

also he has a little picture frame awhh

i imagine it may be a picture of him and his mom??? which honestly would be pretty ballsy because you’d think a boy that age would not even consider proudly putting that up because of ridicule (then again he’s also not afraid to fight). but that’s also what i love about deuce, he loves his mom and he cares enough to show it despite what anyone thinks 😭 (or maybe it could be just displaying one of his achievements or something idk idk hgkjdsfjlds)

Man i know the heartslabyul dorm rooms are pretty but it feels so unrealistic for that it is THIS clean and organized (there’s probably some kinda rule in there somewhere keeping it clean i imagine hfhjdjdj)

━━━━━━✦ 18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

ACE THE SINGLE BRAIN CELL DYNAMIC IDIOTS THAT VALUE EACH OTHER AS FRIENDS bromance real

AND JUST THE WHOLE MAIN FOUR IN GENERAL

I think adeuce have that type of friendship where they butt heads and make fun of each other a lot, because that’s like how they show that they are comfortable with one another and that, out of all people, they choose each other as the main person to hang out with.

I think if it weren’t for what happened in the prologue they wouldn’t be as close as friends. It felt like an excuse for them to bond and get to know each other properly despite their differences (and they're roommates so if none of that happened i think they'd only be acquaintances at most)

I also love that during events whenever the other is not involved, it’s always so funny one of them is usually like “wow it’s such a shame ace/deuce is not here”

actually I dont think there’s an event where BOTH ace and deuce is in an event together??? man🧍(unless i'm forgetting something)

but also when is twst gonna finally have the main quartet all be involved in an event together 🤨

AAH i’m just a sucker for the friend duo/trio (+ occasional creature/animal) trope.

I’m lovingly chewing on their dynamic every time

still open for asks!

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Hi,

I've a blurb request from your totally awesome ☀️ Summer Prompts 🏝️

Could I get a blurb with Austin and 🌺 - skinny dipping?

If you're inner muse is not tickled by this I totally understand.

Xxx

I Dare You

austin butler x reader | 🌺 - skinny dipping

tw: none! || word count: 2.1k || rating: Pg-13

A/N: "blurb" is apparently a debatable term for me lol i'm not sure if 2k words is technically a blurb buttt i hope you enjoy it anyway!! 💕

~❉•────᯽────•❉~

It’s hot. Way too hot to be cooling yourself with a makeshift fan comprised of folded script sheets. Standing underneath a tent, you’re surrounded by a full camera crew. You’ve finally gotten up enough nerve to stop by the movie set where your best friend is working. Austin is the lead in a Baz Luhrman biopic about Elvis, something he’s been working on for upwards of three years now.

You had been whining to him about how you never actually get to see him work. Austin had suggested that you stop by the studio so you could actually understand what it is that he does all day, apart from dress up and make-believe. When you agreed to come by today, you hadn’t expected that it would be quite this hot behind the scenes.

“Cut, that’s a wrap!” yells Baz. “Thank you, Austin and Tom, great work. We’ll pause here for today and pick up first thing tomorrow morning with the Polk Salad Annie sequence. Thank you all and drive safely tonight!”

As Austin turns toward you, you put on your best encouraging smile to pretend that you aren’t sweating profusely. You can only imagine how hot Austin must be, dressed in a full leather jumpsuit with a boatload of accessories on top of that. Austin returns your smile, quickening his step toward you.

“Hey!” you shout excitedly. Austin leans down, embracing you tightly. You can feel your heart flutter as you breathe in his familiar cologne. You beam to yourself.

“You were great,” you continue. “This has been super cool. Thanks for letting me come to set today.”

“Hey, no worries at all. I’m just glad you could finally find the time to make it up here. Listen, I know it’s the end of the night and it’s late and all, but would you want to see some of the other sets? I could give you a quick tour before you take off.”

“Oh, wow, can I do that?”

Austin laughs, his face curling up into a handsome grin. He throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against his side. You gulp down a nervous breath and smile sheepishly.

“Of course you can. You’re my guest tonight. It’s all about what you want,” he replies.

Your eyebrows raise and you sigh. As if he has any idea what you really want. If the dumb himbo had a clue, you wouldn’t be here as his guest. You’d be here as his partner. You shake your head gently and nod.

“That sounds awesome.”

“Sweet, well let me just run and change really, really quickly.”

And with that, he vanishes. While he’s getting changed, you just sit on an abandoned chair and watch the action as everyone gets packed up to go home for the day. To your surprise, it doesn’t take Austin very long to change back into his street clothes. He returns less than half an hour later, sauntering up in those classic brown boots that you know he loves. He gives an exaggerated bow and offers his open palm.

“Your majesty, your private tour awaits,” he says.

You stifle your giggle and instead throw him an eye roll before placing your hand in his. The way his fingers close over yours makes your heart flutter yet again. You hate it when he does that.

As you make your way down the corridor, Austin points out various set pieces and spits out little-known Elvis facts. You continue to fan yourself as you walk, shocked that the hallway seems to be even warmer than the set room you were in. You know it’s July in California but you are starting to wonder if the building lacks air conditioning. Maybe it’s just you?

“Hey?”

Your head snaps to the left as Austin’s voice breaks through your trance.

“Huh?”

Austin chuckles, flashing that pretty boy smile again. You swallow another gulp and avert your eyes. He’s so pretty and you hate him for that.

“This way. I was gonna show you the hotel room in the International.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod, offering a pained smile.

The combination of the late evening, stuffy hallways, and beautiful man standing in front of you are all making you woozy and distracted. You follow Austin into a beautiful and carefully-curated hotel room set, complete with granite countertops, velvet couches, and a magnificent oval-shaped indoor pool.

“Woah…” you step further inside, nearing the edge of the pool. “Is this thing actually filled with water?”

“The pool? Oh yeah, they keep it filled so that it contributes to the realism of the set. You’d be able to tell on camera if it was empty. They even test the pH and all that. Totally swimmable water, although I doubt they’d want anyone actually in it.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Aus. I would have jumped into that pool a thousand times by now if it were me.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a chuckle. “It gets pretty sweltering in here. Acting isn’t for the faint-hearted, I guess.”

“What a shame. It’s like four hundred degrees in here. A swim sounds nice.”

He offers a shrug to jokingly show off his humbleness. You snicker and lean over the pool, craning your neck to evaluate it.

“Jump in,” your body jolts at the sound of Austin’s husky voice right beside your ear.

“What? God, you scared me, Aus,” you say as you hold a hand to your chest.

“I said jump in. Go for a swim like you said.”

“What? Absolutely not,” you shake your head. That feels very not allowed.”

“Come on, I can practically see the sweat dripping down your back. Wouldn’t a dip in the nice, cool water feel good?”

You steel yourself against his temptation. He is far too close to you, whispering in your ear, teasing you. You hate it but you don’t want it to stop.

“Austin Butler…” you scold.

“I’ll do it if you do.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, raising your eyebrows. He can’t be serious…right? You scoff, folding your arms over your chest. You wait for his earnest expression to change but it doesn’t falter. Your white-knuckled fists relax and your mouth falls open.

“Oh my god, you’re actually serious right now. Austin, there is no way we are getting into that pool.”

“Why not?”

“You just said they probably don’t want anyone in there. Come to think of it, are we even allowed to be here right now? This whole situation reeks of breaking the rules.”

“We’re not breaking any rules that I’m aware of. Besides, Baz has been trying to get me to take some time off. He’s actually the one who suggested the after-hours tour tonight, so that we could spend some time together. Just the two of us.”

You reclench your fists as goosebumps raise on your arms. Rolling your head away from him, you step out from under his hovering presence. You shake your head, wracking your brain to try and come up with more reasons you should not jump into the pool. One clicked and you turn around with a smirk.

“We’re dressed in normal clothes. Full outfits, and I don’t have anything else to wear home. I’m not sitting in the car for an hour in wet clothes. Sorry,” you offer an irritated shrug.

“Why wear clothes at all?” he asks, in a voice like the answer to his question is obvious.

Your eyebrows furrow for a moment as you try to understand what he’s suggesting. When the understanding settles, you feel foolish. Your cheeks immediately heat up and you shake your head fervently.

“Are you kidding? No. We cannot go skinny dipping on the set of your movie. This is your workplace. No. No.”

“Oh, come on,” he pleads. “Lighten up.”

“No!”

“Don’t make me do it.”

“Do what, Austin?” you ask, exasperated. His eyebrow quirks up and he folds his arms over his chest.

“I dare you.”

Your body goes rigid. He did not just play that card. You and Austin were childhood friends, and you’ve been close your whole lives. When you were young you’d started a game of dares. The rules were simple, each of you got three dares to use each year. Once a person was dared to do something, they had to do it. There was no way out. Unfortunately, you’ve continued that stupid little game up to the present day. You know you can’t back out.

You glance back down at the pool and then over your shoulder toward the hallway. Pausing, you listen carefully for any sign of life. Hearing no sounds and seeing no witnesses, you face Austin to size him up. You want to smack the smug smirk off his face but you can’t deny that it looks good on him. He knows he’s won and so do you. Rolling your eyes, you sigh.

“Fine. One dip up to my waist and-”

“One full dunk.”

“No. Up to my waist.”

“One full dunk or I consider the dare incomplete.”

You seethe, your fingers curling into fists. You calm yourself with a deep breath and shoot him a pained smile.

“Fine,” you reply through clenched teeth. “One full dunk. But you turn around. I don’t want you seeing me.”

Austin nodded, turning around. You’re glad you don’t have to look at his self-satisfied grin while you cave to his request. You survey the space one last time before begrudgingly popping off your shoes and socks. You do so as quickly as possible, hoping to get done with this dare with lightning speed. Your heart is racing, pounding in your ears as your fingers shakily work. Left in your undergarments, you glance over your shoulder once again to make sure Austin isn’t peeking. His body is still turned away from you. Satisfied, you shed the rest of your clothes and step toward the water.

As soon as your toe hits the surface, you sigh with relief. The temperature is absolutely perfect, cool enough to soothe your hot skin. You slip further into the water, relishing the feeling of it on your body. Heaving a breath, you duck underneath the surface of the water. You wait a few moments and enjoy the calming silence under the water before popping back up to get air.

When you try to open your eyes, they start to burn. You regret having opened them under the water and groan. As you untangle matted wet hair from your forehead, you rub your eyes furiously. Your body stiffens when you feel hands on your waist. With one last rub, your eyes blink open and you lift your gaze to Austin’s.

His sparkling eyes stare down at you. You have no clue how he snuck into the pool after you but, somehow, he did. Your eyes flick down to take in his glistening wet, taut body. His normally blonde hair is jet black and slicked back with the water, and-

You avert your eyes when you realize that he’s completely nude. Completely.

“Wha-...I…oh…I…”

You can’t get any words out; you’re too shocked to speak coherently. In the midst of your babbling, Austin’s hands have found your face. He tilts your chin upward and presses his lips against yours. With wide open eyes, you try to process what’s happening. You’ve had a massive crush on Austin for years and years now. Your brain can’t comprehend what’s going on or how it could be possible.

In a matter of seconds, you can barely even think as your eyes droop closed and you begin to kiss him back. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling his lips deeper into your own. His thumb gently strokes your cheek as his lips move against you. You stumble a step closer, intoxicated by his movements, but jerk backward when you feel something against your leg.

“Oh my god!” you mutter.

You feel like your face is on fire. Dropping your gaze, you giggle breathlessly. Austin’s finger snakes back under your chin, lifting your eyes to his.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?” he asks with a smile.

“I didn’t know you were waiting to do that. You didn’t have to wait, you know. You could have done that whenever you wanted.”

Austin chuckles, catching his lip between his teeth. His eyes drop down to your lips and his fingertips wrap around your jaw, pulling you up for another kiss. When you part, you coquettishly lick your lips.

“So…is it my turn for a dare? Cause I have something in mind.”

You boldly drop your gaze downward, where both of your undressed bodies float underneath the blue water of the pool. Austin smirks, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Maybe this dare thing isn’t so stupid after all…

~❉•────᯽────•❉~

🦋 mila

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2023 - 7. Noisome Characters: Y'shtola Rhul, Baderon Tenfingers Rating: Teen Summary: Y'shtola has a request for Baderon. Notes: None

Y'shtola strode into the Drowning Wench, an establishment she would previously have described as noisome at the best of times. With the smell of a variety of boozes mixing with the smell unique to a fishing pier, and the cacophony of the jeers boasts and story telling of many a privateer, she had thought the place offensive to both nose and ear.

However, it was the central hub for La Noscea, moreso than even the pier itself. The piers where the ships were was where work was done. It was here that rumors pooled and flowed, where news could be sent and heard, and where men and women and others of every stripe and vocation would eventually find their way through. From the lowest of wharf rats to the most celebrated of captains, the Drowning Wench served as a second home to all, and certainly, and now it also served at least as a frequent haunt of one Y'shtola Rhul.

It was late. Not that late mattered, Limsa Lominsa was not the sort of place that ever went to sleep, and so the Drowning Wench never shut her mouth, but it was quiet enough to present a reasonable expectation of privacy, even at the counter. Baderon was cleaning a glass as she approached, and he put it aside to shift to using the rag to clean the counter.

"Well, now, what trouble's bein' brought to ol' Baderon this time?"

"Trouble? And what of all the times I have brought tidings to bring succor to your own woes? Indeed, I believe 'tis more like you have trouble for me."

Baderon chuckled. "Aye, good ol' Y'shtola, never one to allow herself to be the center of a spot 'o good humor."

"I need not entertain such. As experience has shown the both of us, apparently such humor shall find me though I seek it not."

At that, Baderon laughed heartily, and Y'shtola gave him a wan smile. It was true enough, and she was not so prudish as to deny the facts. Her misadventures in the surrounding environs were only a matter of record because of the cares she had taken to be of use to the people of Limsa Lominsa.

They had warmed to her, and though she inwardly still felt cool towards them, nevertheless, an equitable existence had been carved out, and she had done her part to help the nation along its course.

"...been a bit now, hasn't it? S'good o' ye to drop by, as somethin' 'as been on my mind as of late... got a question... if you don' mind."

Y'shtola had business of her own she wished to discuss, but decided it would wait.

"As you ever were a friend to the Path of the Twelve and also of the Circle of Knowing, you are yet as a friend to me. Ask your question."

Baderon went back to cleaning the glass he had discarded earlier, picking it up and wiping absently at it. A nervous gesture, Y'shtola thought.

"It's been damned near a year. 'aven't you 'eard nought of those 'venturers I 'elped send down t' that 'ell? Those brave warriors who 'eld the line for us at Carteneau?"

Memory returned to her, vague and blurry. A silhouette, its outline as watery as a reflection in the sea, haloed by light. A cadre of adventurers, companions, heroes. One in particular, her friend, and more... lost to her, now. Lost to the realm at large, it seemed.

"Warriors, clad only in light in our memories. Well, they remain to be remembered only as servants of the source of that self same Light for the time being," she said.

"Warriors o' Light," said Baderon, idly. And then, "what little grasps my mind can make of them, they were more than alright sorts. That I can' bring their faces to sight drives me bugger-mad."

He started at the expression that must have crossed her face at the moment.

"...beggin' yer grace. I think you may've been rather closer than I was."

Y'shtola shook her head. "And it is of no harm done. You touched a soreness, but unknowingly and without malice. Nay, it is good that you remember that much of him, and them. And such memory, thin though it may be, only spurs me to my duty evermore. To that end, my reasons for approaching you at such hour."

"Ah, there's the trouble. Well, don't let it be said Baderon don't bend an ear to his friends."

"As head of the local Adventurer's Guild, you were ever a friend to the Path of the Twelve, and also to that of the Circle of Knowing. Indeed, it was your keen instincts that led one of those adventurers to our arms."

"Aye, that much, I do remember," he said, idly. Then he grinned at her. "D' you? Our friend made much of the time of his first meeting you here - you overlooked him at th' time, as I recall."

"And more the fool me, unwilling to see that which was right in front of me. Which is why it is good and well that you were here, watching out for what I could not see. Just so, and as you set him on his path, I found mine crossed over with his, and all was well. And for your intercession, this realm gained a hero, true and such," said Y'shtola. "I wonder, if you would be willing to continue in this service?"

"Willin' an' able, aye, lass. 'Venturers like that give me 'ope for our collective futures. I have fun at ye, but tha' one looked a spot o' nothin' when I first saw 'm myself, other than - I remember he was friendly-like. An' though I can' see them now, I remember... I remember thinkin', there was a kindness to his eyes. An uncommon kindness at that."

Another pair of eyes rose to Y'shtola's memory. Not the ones that she wished, so sorely wished, she could see once more in the missing adventurer, but kind, nevertheless.

"And it is such we seek once more," she said, chasing the memory off. "Will you continue your work, Baderon? This time, on behalf of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn?"

"Huh. You lot changed your name then, did ye?"

Y'shtola nodded. "We thought best to turn two organizations into one, and continue our mission. The turning of the star continues, and Minfilia believes we still have need of a hero."

"Signs and portents, then? Some sort o' prophecy, maybe?"

"Not a prophecy as such, no. More a continuation of that search, for those blessed by Hydaelyn, to share her Light and continue to help us find our way in this umbral era. We may have survived one calamity, but we would like to prevent another. I ask again, will you help us?"

"You hardly need to ask at all, lass. I feel blessed to have been part o' things, sour though they've ended. And tho' I'm not eager to send any more to their 'arrow, we can' always expect the worst, can we? I'd spend the rest of my days to meet someone with 'alf the caliber of the last bunch. If I can help them find their way in this sorry world, and maybe 'elp keep the light a lil' brighter? I'll do it. Ye've got my support, if ye'll have it."

Y'shtola smiled warmly at him. "I am grateful for your kindness. And I will continue to tend to my mission, then, comforted at having such a stalwart ally."

She wrinkled her nose a bit, and turned to face the bar proper. "Even if your drink remains as noisome as ever."

"Oy, that's hurtful, that is. I thought we were 'aving a real moment of comaradarie, we were."

"And we still are. I shall drop some instructions for how we may yet help one another on the morrow. Pleasure as always, Baderon."

"And good night t' ye, Y'shtola."

She made her way out of the Drowning Wench, one more deed done. Noisome and quarrelsome though Limsa Lominsa could be, it had become a home of sorts to her. Her duty kept her present, but still, for the sake of memory, she felt she owed it one. And so she would keep to her tasks, until the work was done.

[skylermadness]

Something To Be Proud Of (Ragh Barkrock TF/PMC)

(Original Date of Upload: May 4, 2022)

Original Description:

A work written in collaboration with two friends of mine. This TF also comes with a sequence drawn by ArticulatedArtisan. He also drew the art that is used as the picture in the cover. The sequence can be viewed here: DeviantArt / FurAffinity Another Dimension 20 TF, and one that has been a few months in the making. Ragh is a really great guy and honestly needed TF into him- so we're here to provide! Admittedly I dealt more with the drafting, so all of this is written by my friend as they handled editing. I've never really done a second-person POV TF before, but I feel like I could go all in and try writing one myself some day. It'll just take some work- I'm also really happy as to how Artisan's sequence came out. It is so good! Just about everything about it feels perfect. Overall, I'm glad that he was a part of this!

   You drew in a deep breath, steeling yourself, and pushed open the door.

   It didn’t stop the wave of high school sport odor from assaulting your nose with enough force to make the tacklers jealous, but you managed to keep from gagging. You really wished you were used to this already, being the team’s waterboy and all.

   Waterboy, Coach’s assistant, whatever- all it meant was that you had to suffer all the drawbacks, like staying after school for practice and having to deal with the gunk and smell of the football team locker room, and none of the benefits- such as, well, being on the team. The coach just put you to work, setting up the equipment for practice, getting fresh towels and water to be ready on hand, and just about anything else Coach or the players needed, but were apparently too wrapped up to handle themselves.

   To Coach’s credit, you didn’t think it was necessarily intentional on his part to put you through all this suffering with no perceived payoff. Back when you first approached him in his office near the beginning of the year, you had wanted to ask about joining the football team yourself. You’d long looked upon these cool, hot jocks around school, joking and jostling each other around, and wanted to play with them, or have an excuse to hang out with them at the very least- maybe you could even be one of the Boys someday, if you did. 

   But Coach had taken one look at you, with your scrawny, somewhat shorter than average form, and completely misinterpreted your approach as you volunteering for the assistant duties. And here you were now, having never moved from the position, because you never had the gut to correct him.

   It wasn’t great- but it could have been worse, surely. You probably wouldn’t have been actually good on the team, anyway.

   You did try your best to make the most of it, though. Being often in relatively close proximity with the jocks and players on the team, and using it as an excuse to talk to them or hang out, was sort of what you had been after the whole time- so you took the opportunities to say hi, and talk to them on occasion longer than a question or two relating to what mess you had to take care of next. Your assistant work more often than not actually cut you off from being able to stay talking for long and kept you busy, regrettably. Even when you did find the time to hang out for a little while, your heart sank, as the Boys were certainly friendly to you- but you never felt it reached the point where you felt you could call it you being friends.

   The raucous sounds of laughter and football practice and buddies and bros being bros in the distance cut quiet in an instant as the door leading back outside swung closed behind you, and you stepped further in.

   You were out on a mission, once again: one of the players, a tall, dark haired one that you wanted to talk with for longer, had forgotten his playing gloves somewhere, presumably left back in the locker room. Coach wouldn’t allow him to let up his reps to go grab them, so he needed to    ask you- and did sound apologetic, very clearly aware that it was something he could go do himself. It didn’t force down the light disappointment of being cut off from talking to and getting to know one of the Boys better for longer, but you did appreciate the sentiment.

   You made to breathe in and retched a little, very quickly wishing you had not let out that breath of fresh-ish outside air so carelessly. Sure, the Boys were generally nice to you and plenty of fun to hang around when you got the chance to, but you couldn’t say you were a fan of their… low-standard sanitary practices. Loose football gear left strewn about the room, over the benches and on the floor. Shoes and socks that anyone could recognize came from an extremely active high school athlete left out on the floor as well, their ripe odors wafting throughout the stale locker room air. Empty bottles of awful 3-in-1 shampoo littered around the showers, collecting near the shower drains, having long since been used or touched.

   Your stomach roiled again at the smell. At least you had somehow convinced them to put their dirty laundry away in the communal bin on their own.

   You hurried around the locker room, eager to find the gloves and escape back into fresh air as soon as you could. It was taking longer than you were hoping for, there was so much gear left sitting around to sift through- where were all the gloves? Half the players out there weren’t even in full gear, surely there’d be at least a few unused pairs that the Boy in need could at least borrow for the day…

   Frustration was beginning to set in. The smell was probably starting to get to you. You were considering calling it quits and apologizing to the Boy back outside for it, when you spotted them- a pair of gloves, haphazardly tossed onto the end of one of the benches. You hastily snatched them up and turned to hurry back out, having had enough of the locker room stink for now.

   Your eyes fell on your prize as you walked quickly, relief suddenly giving way to curiosity as you peered a little more closely at them. These gloves were a hardy brown, made of tough, thick cloth with the sleeves extending past where the wrists would usually end, instead running further up along the forearm than typically. The gloves were HUGE, too- you usually weren’t paying attention to the size of most players’ hands, but you could swear it felt like these gloves in particular could fit three of your own hands inside just one of them, and have space left over to spare. Over the palms and where the knuckleheads would be, were layers upon thick layers of wrappings- having likely once been white, but by now have long since faded and worn out to gray from frequent, rough use.

   Were these… really the gloves that player was talking about? You really couldn’t find any other gloves in the entire locker room, so they had to have been if the Boy was sure he left them in there. But then again- these didn’t look like football gloves in the slightest, and didn’t even have the team’s colors. They almost looked like they were instead gloves for shoving, pummeling, or crushing opponents in melee combat.

   Your vision swam as you blinked away from the sudden thought, feeling a bit dizzy. You were close to further questioning where the thought came from, before you toppled into something and tripped, landing embarrassingly splayed on the ground. Gathering yourself up and looking around to survey the damages, you groaned. Your worst fears had come back to haunt you- you had knocked into the community laundry bin hard enough to leave dirty, smelly athletic clothes strewn all over the floor in front of you. 

   And it was your job to pick it all up.

   You were reminded of the great pains you had taken to avoid having to handle the laundry by the intense, pungent odor wafting up from the scattered pile. You quickly swallowed the bile in your throat before it could rise any further, and grimaced.

   There was no way in hell you were touching any of it with your bare hands.

   Scooting backward, you clenched a hand and felt rough fabric brush against it. You almost ripped your hand away in the fear that you had already touched something from this awful mess, before you realized it was just the pair of huge gloves you had come in for.

   Glancing down at the gloves, an idea came to mind- one that you immediately felt guilty for thinking of. You could use the Boy’s gloves to pick up all the laundry, that was an option… but then again, you wouldn’t wish this smell on anyone- especially something the player would be wearing as soon as it was returned. The odor would be sure to linger on the gloves, and you weren’t keen on giving him a reason to dislike you.

   Although, since the smell came from the laundry bin, which in turn came from the players themselves, maybe they wouldn’t notice if you used these gloves for this, just for a little while…? Nodding slowly, having successfully convinced yourself, you stood up and reached for the gloves.

   This act of handling player gear wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary for you- but something about holding them with the intent to wear them had you shivering a little. Not to be weird about it- but just before you put them on, you felt a sudden sense of… proximity? Like wearing these gloves brought you and the football players closer together, somehow. 

   And in a sense, it was, you laughed to yourself as you slipped the gloves on. This really was the first and probably only chance you’d ever get of seeing what being a jock would feel like.

   You felt a bit silly for being surprised when the gloves didn’t fit, once you had them on. Your hands were pretty average in size, while the tough-fabric gloves were big enough to completely dwarf your hands when you wore them. Your fingers weren’t long enough for the tips to reach the end of the gloves, and the palms were too broad for your hands to really fit your fingers into each respective holes- you ended up constantly bunching up the palms of the gloves in your hands to really get a real grip in order to hold anything with them. 

You withheld a sigh. The huge gloves were a bit annoying and uncomfortable to use, but they’d get the job done.

   You crouched down to get to work picking up the dirty laundry- and were almost immediately assaulted by that disgusting odor again. Athlete sweat and untreated B.O. mixed together in one atrocious concoction of stench, having left to fester in the laundry bin all week. You swore under your breath at the unrelenting attacks on your nose- but you steeled your resolve, and proceeded with picking up the clothing and putting them back in the bin.

   As you’d anticipated, the gloves felt awkward and cumbersome, the most efficient method of picking up the laundry really just consisting of you smashing your gloved hands together around a clump of clothes like the world’s worst sandwich, and depositing it into the now upright bin. You found your frustration dissipating, however, after a moment or two of picking up the mess- the need to constantly hold onto the gloves felt less and less, and you found yourself letting go of the bunches you had been gripping and letting them hang on your hands loosely. It only clicked when you tried smashing another clump of clothes between two gloved closed fists, and paused for an embarrasing three seconds, dumbfounded by the sensation of the motion, and why exactly it felt weird. You had the hang of these gloves now. Your face heated up a little, feeling a bit silly that you’d been picking up the clothes so strangely when you could have just picked them up and grabbed them with your gloved hands normally. The gloves didn’t feel like masses of rough cloth covering your hands, they just felt like gloves- why had you been so weird about it?

   Despite the worn gloves starting to feel a bit tight on your hands, you shook yourself a little to focus and pick up the pace. Now that that weird mental block keeping you from acting normal had cleared, you started picking up larger piles of laundry to put away, some so big your arms burned and threatened to buckle under the weight. You really weren’t expecting a workout when you came in looking for the gloves, but damn if you weren’t getting one right then and there. 

   You made to reach for a jockstrap that you thought for a moment was too far away- your arms burned- and you picked it up, without any trouble. You dropped it on top of the newest colossal load you had gathered, carrying and depositing it all into the bin without any noticeable strain on your arms. You stretched your arms high above your head as a quick rest, finding the feeling of stretching your muscles particularly pleasurable in that moment for a reason you could not pin down, and took a sniff. It was getting easier to breathe, the smell feeling less noticeable than before.

   But it wasn’t gone, and it was still BAD- you could swear it was actually clouding your vision, what with the tint of green your skin had taken when you looked down at your arms. Yeugh, better get this over with quick.

   The short sleeves of your t-shirt were already feeling tight, but that sensation had spread to your neck- and, hell, now that you were thinking of it it was everywhere else, too. It was probably the fatigue setting in, but with every breath you drew in the shirt felt smaller, like you’d put on a size medium you thought you could fit it that day but after the barest physical strain showed exactly how constricting it actually was and how dumb you were for thinking it could fit you. 

   A surge of power erupted from your solid, heavy core and rushed up to your burgeoning pecs pressing so desperately against your shirt, and you fought the sudden urge to wrestle it off of your body. This was the players’ locker room, not yours, and you didn’t have an extra change of clothes here to fall back on if you tore this shirt. 

   Another embarrassing five seconds passed before you realized something was wrong with that thought. Since when had you ever been worried about tearing your shirt? You wiped your sweating forehead with a gloved hand, and the sense of rough fabric dragging along your skin gave you pause. You brought your hands to your face to look closely, and saw two gloves fitting perfectly, if a bit tightly, on two massive, powerful, meaty mitts in the shape of hands.

   It took you a moment to realize, but these were not the hands you had walked into this locker room with.

   You looked down at your body, your brain working overtime trying its best to grasp the situation. You felt around your neck with your huge hands, and felt a short, thick, solid trunk of muscle there, which matched your deeper sounding breathing, you realized. Your scrawny chest and torso were expanding as you watched, the pecs and musculature growing and filling out first, before fat filled in after, greatly softening your pecs and pushing your stomach out into a solid, firm gut. You gave it the smallest of pokes, just to tell if it was real, and your shirt jumped at the chance to survive a moment longer by riding it up, letting your gut touch the open air. The sensations were there, of course, it was there and real and huge- and the skin was the same green as your thick, powerful arms, and deepening in hue by the second. You almost fell over, when your new gut shifted your center of gravity, but you managed to catch yourself and widen your stance accordingly. The things that felt right for your new body felt… really different from what you were used to. But… it was still your body, right?

   You bent down over the remaining laundry, getting back to work- something that you didn’t have to think too hard about, and that was something you needed. Your poor brain felt sluggish, too tired to really understand the changes as they continued. You picked up more dirty clothes, now almost completely oblivious to the lingering smell that you vaguely remembered was still there. You distantly registered the sound of your shirt finally tearing from the strain, and the itch of chest hair pushing out in a smattering across your chest and down your gut. Just a few more rounds, you were sure you’d be finished… with the laundry. Finished with the laundry.

   The lump in your throat grew larger, and your ragged breaths sounded even deeper- even gutteral, a little. Something about your face was tingling, changing, as the changes rose even further up your body. Your head split into a headache from how fast you wanted it to go, you didn’t want to be left behind with everything happening so much. You realized all of a sudden that your face was wrong and out of place it was hurting your brain because of it- then your skull shifted, the bone thickening and squaring off into something tough and not really human, but your lower jaw pushed forward and locked into place and everything felt right again. It felt good, and it really felt good too when two of your lower teeth grew longer and sharper, into the proud tusks of a young adult half-orc poking out of your mouth. 

   The ground grew further away from you as your brain struggled to work things out. Some things were starting to make more sense, and some things were making less and less sense to you- so much so that it hurt to try to think of them now with everything else happening. Instead of trying to think about why it was all happening and why it was- or wasn’t- possible, you focused instead on your legs, as they were up next. They grew longer and thicker, powerful logs of mass you’d forged yourself from pouring countless hours on the Bloodrush field, to be able to carry the mountain of mass and meat you were wherever you needed to go. Even despite the splitting pain cracking your head, you couldn’t help the surge of pride or keep yourself from grinning like an idiot at the thought. 

   Your shorts were barely holding together, looking so small and much shorter on your legs than before, but why? Gears chugged along in your brain and it made the connection- right, your legs were growing, weren’t they? A bit dizzliy, your brain kept flip-flopping between watching the changes in excitement and accepting your new normal. You felt a thrill heave in your throat at feeling your now-tiny shorts ride up your legs and the seat of your pants filling out and pushing up against the shorts, like a bike tire you’d pumped too quickly and was about to pop. Everything was different, but you weren’t scared.

   Why would you be scared? These changes were amazing.

   Why would you be scared? This was just your body, nothing new- but still fuckin’ great.

   You heaved another mountain of dirty clothes into the bin, and clapped your huge gloved hands together once, eyeing the remaining stragglers. One more round.

   Each step you take feels like pounding, stomping on the floor without meaning to. Your footsteps sound heavy, and your feet feel way too tight to feel good. Like you put on the wrong size shoes, these ones way too small… which would be something your dumb fuckin’ ass would mix up, wouldn’t it? Putting on the wrong shoes and not realizing through the whole school day… your powerful lungs let out a gusty disappointed sigh. Typical.

   Your tiny, wrong shoes seemed to think so, too- and with a shrrrrp of cloth, your heavy green feet finally had space to breathe. You tried to kick as much of it off your feet as you can, and turn back to the laundry- y’know, channeling your shit into something productive instead of wasting time being fucking useless.

   Your stomach turned as you bent down to scoop the rest up. It’s… hard not to feel like that, like an idiot who could never get your act together. Struggling in school, making all these dumb decisions, always blowing your top and letting your rage get the better of you… it’s no wonder you could never make the… make the team…

   You stood back up, and the surge of something throughout your body followed by the loud SHRRRRPing of shirt and shorts got you out of your head. You tripped backwards into the line of lockers behind you in surprise, distantly feeling the dented metal under your arms. Your brain registered the tight pressure disappear and what was left of your clothes hanging off your powerful frame, and finally began to catch up with your body. 

   You started to realize and finally understand, just so much has changed about you- and while it’s hard to put them together, all the pieces were there.

   The reason you were wobbling and feeling so unsteady on your feet was because your center of gravity was different from what you were used to. The reason you dented the lockers this badly from punching and elbowing them when you tripped was because you didn’t know your own strength- literally. The reason why your clothes fucking hurt so much and were too fucking small wasn’t because you wore small clothes and put on tiny shoes this morning like a dumbass- because you’re not dumb, yeah you know you’re not smart like the wizards or artificers or whatever, but you’re not dumb- it’s because your body is different! You put on smaller clothes that morning because you were smaller!

   Your thick brow furrowed and your face scrunched up as you mulled it over, as you became more and more sure in yourself. You rubbed your chin with a gloved hand, feeling the coarse stubble smattered across your chin, while you were lost in thought- unflinching despite the rank odor clinging to the gloves after handling dirty sports laundry for like, gotta be more than ten rounds by now. Honestly, you were losing track.

   "Wait- shit, I need to get changed." You blurted out the thought as it bubbled up in your mind, without bothering to think about it first- like the gap between your thoughts and your tusked mouth was getting smaller.

   As soon as that clicked, you felt fabric rustling and moving as it stretched to wrap around your much larger body, covering everything up. The bulging and straining shorts grew down your legs and darkened to blue and hardened into weathered denim, not without its scuffs and tears but still a good, solid pair of jeans. Finally the right size and not feeling like your legs were being choked out, a belt slithered around your waist to complete the look. 

   Your socks and shoes repaired themselves too- the fabric of your socks worn and holey, standing no chance against your massive orc feet, and your shoes concealing the rest of it from view, cutting off the stench suddenly wafting up from them, too. 

   You involuntarily wrinkled your nose, but it honestly didn't smell that bad. Not really any of this did, anymore.

   Your shoes finished off with a splash of red that quickly weathered and darkened from wear- whatever Mending spell was fixing your clothes didn't seem to be able to fix that part of it, turned out. But you didn’t mind, you began to smirk a little as you waggled your now warm feet in a good 17 and a half size pair of sneakers. A perfect fit, for the pair of stompers you’re packin’.

   But the main event was just getting started- you rolled your broad shoulders and thick, muscled neck in anticipation. You could feel it, your brain following the patterns as it sensed the scraps that used to be your shirt shiftin' around, and making the connections. Your shirt was next.

   The cloth rushed around your body, turning stiff and thick as it repaired itself into a shirt sized much, much larger than the size medium tee you had on that morning. The sleeves stretched long and smoothed out into soft white that felt good on your bare arms underneath, topping off with striped cuffs hugging your wrists and sneaking inside the sleeves of your gloves. You couldn't help the smirk of satisfaction cross your face as you flexed, feeling even these large sleeves strain to contain the solid blocks of jockish muscle and mass your arms had pumped out.

   Your eyes followed the middle of your shirt split as buttons popped out into view, suddenly becoming the things holding your shirt together over your bulky chest and gut. The shirt neck pushed up further over your skin- well, more jacket neck than shirt, really. And that meant it made sense that the soft, striped thing around your neck was probably a collar, jackets had those.

   A rich red color washed over the rest of your jacket, over your torso, filling out between the white stripes on your wrists and collar. A bright red that your heart leapt in pride for, even though you didn't recognize it yet- or at least, your head didn't. Your body processing things and acting on them faster than your brain could was becoming a habit, at this point.

   But even at its snail's pace, it was still chugging along- and the pieces were coming together into something that had you excited. With a duly stretched out tank top appearing just underneath, you were wearing a letterman jacket- just like the kind the jocks wore. Laying a hand on your letterman and feeling the hard, solid mass bulging underneath, it wasn't hard to put two and two… er, maybe one and one together, and realize- you'd fit right in with the team, and maybe Coach would finally take you seriously about wanting to make the Bloodrush team. A brown letter "A" stitched itself onto your letterman's breast, like the jacket itself was in full support.

   You didn't think that the team you wanted to join started with an A- or your school, either- but you brain managed to squeeze out the name "Aguefort", and your body relaxed, as if that explained everything. Your chest swelled up again, almost overwhelmed with the pride and team spirit just thinking that name filled you with.

   You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. Augh, gods, you really needed to let your brain catch up again. The idea that your tiny fit had just changed into something larger and tougher and more comfortable, was fucking with your mind. Like, you never had the smarts to really get into casting classes, but this wasn't even something you had thought someone could do with magic. Man, maybe you should try taking a spellcasting class or something, see if you could pick anything up before the school year ended- that is, if magic was… real… wait, that didn't sound right…

   You let out a deep, involuntary grunt as a headache pounded through your skull, just behind your eyes, and threatened to knock you off balance. You managed to steady yourself in time, quickly grabbing onto things for support, and your gaze fell onto your gloved hand.

   Once stable, you brought a massive mitt of a hand in front of your face. You snapped it shut into a huge, meaty fist, feeling the powerful grip in your long, thick fingers, and the tough material wrapped around it tight, and then relaxed your hand. The gloves fit perfectly. Everything fit perfectly.

   Everything fit perfectly on your body- holy shit, this was your body now, wasn't it? Your head jerked around, trying to get the best view of the huge orcish form you had found yourself in as you could. No way the Boys on the team wouldn't be jealous as FUCK of your sick gains. And damn, didn't you agree. There was this Pride pushing up in your chest, too- like you deserved a bod with this power and magnitude. Like after all the hard work you put into getting here, training and working out and putting on mass like crazy, there was no way you were going to get a body different from the one you wanted- this one.

   But even as proud of yourself you were, and how pumped and ready to RUMBLE you knew this body was, it…

   Your spirits fell. It still didn't feel like you were one of them. One of the Boys, the Jocks, even with your new varsity jacket, or your huge, jockish body. You weren't part of the team, you were just the… the, uh… well, you just worked there. Picking up nasty laundry. And there was a sinking feeling, that a part of you knew to be true, that told you that's the way it'd always be, wouldn't it.

   You looked over to the stuffed laundry bin, having finished picking everything up, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel happy about it. You sat down on the bench with a gusty sigh, and looked down at your open hands again, huge and strong enough to crush rocks. 

   All that potential, gone to waste from not being put to use on the team, just felt so crushing. 

   You'd be fuckin' great at it, too, you were sure.

   Your fists tighten, open palms snapped shut into that powerful grip. YEAH you'd be fuckin' great at it, you could probably take every game home by yourself if you had to, even without the rest of the team you'd be playing with backing you up! What was Coach thinking, not letting what had the potential be a star Bloodrush player onto the team? Was he out of his MIND?

   You were onto something, it hit you. You stood up from the bench, creaking in relief as your weight lifted off of it, and you began to pace back and forth to give your brain the time it needed to catch up, almost knocking over the laundry bin again. Why wouldn't Coach just let you join? Your face twisted as frustration and borderline rage bubbled up, trying to push past the ache in your head and think a complete sentence for once. Fuck, this train of thought hurt so much it was almost worse than biting glass on accident again.

   In an instant, your head snapped to attention and your eyes darted around the room, suddenly remembering the danger at hand. Glass could be anywhere, and you wouldn't even know if you were about to bite some- it was literally invisible! Your gloved mitt of a hand clapped over your mouth just to be safe, your orcish nose having almost fully tuned out the musky laundry smell the gloves still carried. 

   Your eyes landed on the locker room mirror. That had glass in it- at least, uh, you were pretty sure it did- but it was stuck to the wall, so it was probably fine. Mirror glass was probably different from regular glass, anyway, since it wasn't invisible. 

  You nodded to yourself, relaxing and feeling safer, when your eyes caught on your own reflection next.

   You slowly stepped over to the mirror, the tension of danger all but forgotten as you took in the half-orc standing there, facing you. Now that it was allowed to work on its own time, your brain was finally starting to catch up with your earlier thoughts- just in time for the final changes to make their way up your face.

   You wanted more than anything to join the team, and were probably one of the students at the Adventuring Academy most equipped to be really, REALLY good at it.

   You lowered your gloved hand away from your mouth to reveal it growing, bulking even further, squaring off into a strong, masculine jaw, skin as green as the field turf, with two thick, orcish tusks jutting up proudly from your lower jaw.

   Coach would be crazy to not let someone join the team if he thought they could help them win and play better, and Coach wasn't that crazy. Evil alignment didn't mean crazy, obviously.

   Your eyes clouded over and the colors went inverse as your vision adjusted to naturally see in darkness better, white piercing pupils in pits of black sclera. Your nose and ears grew in turn, ears a bit longer and tapering off into points, and nose wider to fit your orcish face better.

   But even though Coach was Evil- better than the last coach, anyway, Pit Fiend evil didn't turn your stomach as much as abusive homophobic evil did- he wouldn't force someone into playing for the team if they didn't want to. He was nice like that, you knew.

   And then your hair, from the roots up was darkening to a deep, dark green, so dark it was almost black. It swept back into a wilder, slightly unkempt hairstyle over thicker looking side fades, like you'd let it grow out a little after a while without a haircut.

   That meant Coach must not have known how much you wanted to play, even though it was obvious how good you'd be for the team. But why, then? How the hell could he not know? Something wasn't adding up, you realized.

   You took in the tough, proud face of the half orc reflecting back at you in the mirror. It was solid and imposing, but there was a softness to your expression, too- like it was getting more comfortable in wearing things that weren't a scowl or a snarl contorted in rage. The muscles and fat set in your massive jaw rolled at the even the smallest movement, and the whole jaw was sent shifting from the tiny clenches you made with your mouth as you thought. It was still hard to believe that this all only just happened, and you were so different a few rounds ago. The thought of a scrawnier human figure with a much thinner frame floated past behind your now dark orcish eyes, and all at once it hit you.

   Coach didn't know you wanted to play because you never told him you did!

   You clapped a gloved hand to your forehead in understanding as your brain finally made the connection. You remembered first visiting Coach back when you looked like a human, and you hadn't had the nuts to tell him you wanted to join the team- and THAT'S why you'd been stuck as the waterboy ever since!

   Sizing up the massive, half-orc jock reflecting back at you, already wearing the team's varsity jacket, you couldn't help your face splitting into a grinning smirk. That version of yourself felt so far away from you now, as the confidence of a half-orc AND a jock- who was not only centered and assured of who he was, but deeply and unwaveringly PROUD of who he was as a whole person- surged through you, your heart thrumming and shocking your back upright into better posture, only adding to your height even more. Looking how you did, with the huge new body and all, you wouldn't have trouble getting Coach to let you join the team now, that's for fuckin' sure. You even got a letterman of your own already, too! You turn around with your head craned to get a good look at the back of your letterman in the mirror. It'd be easier to just take it off and look at it there- but nah, no way you're taking this thing off anytime soon.

   Even with the added effort of having to read words backwards like that in the mirror, your heart leapt in pride and already knew what the big block letters spelled over the piercing gaze of a snarling owlbear.

   "BARKROCK."

   Your heart already knew, deep down, but now your brain clicked, too. That was- that was your last name. Your last name, Barkrock! Well- it wasn't before, but like- it felt good to hear it. And it definitely fit the kind of person you were now, and maybe it'd be good to sort of start over again with the Coach anyway, too? You weren't sure how you'd explain it all anyway, so just pretending you were a totally different person would be easier, even though you were still the same but you'd just changed a little. Well, a lot. 

   So yeah, you'll keep the name, no sweat. You could probably pass as a foreign exchange student, probably.

   You turned away from the reflection, and headed out the locker room door back outside to the field. You were PUMPED again and ready to go, feeling it in every part of your body- first steps into the new life laid out ahead of you.

   It was a beautiful, clear day with a few clouds about, and you almost didn't realize how different the field and bleachers looked from how they used to, with how familiar everything felt to you at the same time. It was a bit hard to remember what colors the uniforms of the teams on the field had been before, but the red and white they sported now- just like your letterman- felt right, y'know?

   You spotted the team on the field, and were about to call them over and ask them where Coach was- you had a lot to talk about- when one of them spotted you first and waved you over.

   "RAGH, my guy! Where you been, dude?"

   The gap between your thoughts and your mouth was too small to realize the jock had just called you by a name you were pretty sure wasn't yours before you were already hustling over, grinning like an idiot, huge tusks out and proud for all to see.

   "I'm comin', dude, I'm comin'!"

   And you hustled down the field to meet him and all the others, the fat and muscle of your beefy body bouncing up and down in a way that felt so real, so right, so familiar as muscle memory of your favorite sport seared its way into your body. You were a Bloodrush player, through and through- your heart knew that, your head knew that, and now your body knew that, too, which sealed the deal. 

   FUCK that felt good.

   The other players had headed to the benches, taking a quick water break before heading back out to practice. You saw the other players already had their waters and everything, and THAT got you grinning to yourself. You'd never be stuck as Coach's assistant again- at least, not in the way you used to. The faces of the other jocks lighting up when you arrived, and the growing familiarity you had with each of their faces and then names and then who they were and what they liked, told you that. 

   You were also pretty sure that some of the Boys here had changed too, like you did, with pointed ears or flaming hair or fuller beards where you didn't expect, but you didn't care about that, didn't you. This was the team you knew, and that was what mattered.

   The player who called you over clapped you on the back, getting your head in the game with a jump.

   "Jeez, Ragh, you took your time," he laughed, elbowing you in the ribs, sending something fluttering in your chest- something that you knew what it was but you decided you were fine with not following- for now, at least. You were at practice, not prom. "Your gloves that hard to find? Dude, we need you for practice!"

   You glanced down at your rough, worn gloves that’d been with you for ages. You could barely remember what that player who sent you in to grab them in the first place looked like, and looking around at your team and best friends at the Academy, you didn’t recognize anyone that might have used to be him among the humanoids there… almost like he was never there at all. Your head was starting to hurt again- feeling sluggish like it was running on empty when you tried to think about it further, and you made a decision. 

   You held the memory close for a moment, of that nameless player who gave you this chance thanks to his gloves- your gloves- thanked it, and then let it go. Your head felt clearer in an instant, and you shook away the headache, feeling yourself settle back into being comfortable with your friends.

   “Sorry dude, knocked over the laundry bin in there and had to clean up. And fuck, dude, I swear- it took me like, what, 15 rounds to pick it all up. There was so. much. shit in there.” 

   Everything fell into place so easily, the rhythm you had with your friends felt so natural, it really did feel like you’d known these guys and played on the same Bloodrush team for years at this point- which, as far as everyone else was aware, you had. And damn, when you weren’t thinking too hard about how different everything was, it just about had you convinced, too.

   “And honestly? Dude-dude-dude-dude, dudes, can I be real with you?” You directed it to the rest of the team, this time. “Y’all fuckin’ smell, dude.”

   A firbolg teammate in the back called out, “It’s just the musk, dude-”

   “Dude, no, I know the musk. I know the musk, dude, and that laundry bin was like- BAD, dude, even for me. Holy shit. Like, take a fuckin’ shower, guys!”

   Sitting back, laughing and joking with your team for the rest of the water break- you were one of the Boys, one of the jocks. 

   Just like you’d always wanted. 

   Just like you’d always been. 

   Your head wanted to pick one of those over the other to be right so bad, but your heart knew they were both true.

   You stood up, stretching. “Alright, back to practice. I got the scrimmage drills.”

   That confidence, that pride you exuded that kicked your teammates into gear stirred in you something fierce- and hot damn if you weren't fierce- but it also felt like the most natural thing in the world. That sort of authority came with you being the most senior member on the team- even though you weren't the team captain or QB, you knew all the drills, all the exercises, probably even better than Coach did, so you could pretty much run practice on your own when Coach Gorthalax got stuck in a ruby again or something. Getting held back a year or two was crushing back then, but did have its good side, you guessed. You were so familiar with the Bloodrush training stuff from playing year after year, you could probably become a Coach yourself eventually, if you didn't land a job as a star Bloodrush player or bodyguard or something.

   It took for when your teammates lined up for the scrimmage play for it to really hit you- you realized the future you had ahead of you. Before, you'd just been a scrawny human without real friends who could never speak your mind, and now you were a huge half-orc jock who had a team of friends and was proud of who you were. That went to the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, too- training teens and high schoolers in magical or fighting stuff to become adventurers and heroes, or at least learn whatever the fuck Principal Aguefort wanted them to take out of all this- a far cry from the boring ass school you used to go to. You had career options you'd never even heard of lined up ahead of you since you're close to graduating. 

   Fuck, you're close to graduating, too, huh… yeah, that was right, ever since that adventuring party of bad kids you became friends with invited you on a quest and finished it with them, you were on your way to graduation. Fuck, dude, that was something you hadn't though about for a long while, afraid you'd just get pulled back again. Getting through all your identity junk thanks to the school's guidance counselor Jawbone probably helped with that, too, being honest.

   More and more memories of being Ragh Barkrock, the half-orc jock who got your whole life turned around after getting your ass handed to you by the Bad Kids and then meeting with Jawbone to work your personal shit out kept filling your head in that moment- and honestly, you couldn't think of anything you wanted more in that moment. You felt solid, grounded. You knew for sure in your big, thumping, orc heart, of who you wanted to- no, who you were PROUD to be.

   The Bloodrush captain called the play, clear and sharp that cut through your mind like a greataxe through warm cheese, and your body instinctively sprang into action alongside your friends, your teammates. You grit your tusks and teeth, and called up that white hot feeling- in an instant your head, heart, and body finally all in sync. Not so much thinking of anything, or even really being able to think anything other than being laser focused on the play at hand that you knew by heart. 

   You thundered forward, letting loose a snarl and calling up that white-hot rage as you charged the poor humanoid player opposite to you, squeezing the last few thoughts through your head before going blank.

   Your name is Ragh Barkrock, and you're damn proud of that.

[oceanparkmall]

Mall Ghosts | Chapter 1

table of contents patreon wattpad

~ 2.2k words

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The year was 2002.

I had just turned eighteen. My parents bought the newest iPod for my birthday instead of the cell phone that I had specifically asked for. So I dyed my afro electric teal in protest, but they didn’t care. My kid brother joked that my hair finally matched my name – Aqua.

None of my friends really got to see my so-called rebellious transformation because I lived two cities over and I didn’t have a car to drive yet. 

I begged my mom to let me apply for a modeling gig at the shopping complex where half the senior class hung out, but she said that there was nothing wrong with the mall just off the highway near our house. Her argument was that it was closer to where we lived, on the way to her job, and just as good as the mall across town.

She was right up until the last point. 

Ocean Park Mall was the site where someone managed to rob an entire store. Whoever it was never got caught. Somehow they pulled it off without tripping any alarms. An entire department just completely cleared out. How does that even happen? 

The scandal was big enough to hit the local news. It was a miracle that the mall didn’t get shut down. Still, a whole bunch of businesses packed up and left. Only a handful were left standing. 

Nowadays, it seemed like the only things Ocean Park was good for was escaping the summer heat or grabbing a bite to eat in the 2.5 out of 5 stars food court. Every now and then Ocean Park would hold special events. Things like pop idol meet and greets, book signings, niche culture conventions, and that runway show that my mom signed me up for.

“Aqua Simone Moore,” Mom huffed as she drove me to Ocean Park for my first fitting, “wipe that gloom-and-doom look off your face. You always look so unsatisfied and I cannot for the life of me figure out what is wrong with you.”

I didn’t answer. All I did was slump some more in my seat, which I knew she hated.

Mom narrowed her eyes at me – as if that would do anything – and finally sighed. 

“Aqua, you know your father and I try to give you and your brothers everything that we can.”

But nothing that I ask for, I thought to myself. Just because she and Dad substituted one thing for something else didn’t mean I had to like it. 

Not in a million years would I ever say this to her because that would get me in a world of trouble. Mom would go home and tell Dad and before I knew it, I would be listening to a thousand lectures about how I’m not grateful enough and how they don’t know how I got this way.

Nevermind that I made perfect grades, stayed out of trouble, and almost never asked to go anywhere cool – but who cares when I’m not grateful and looking content whenever they choose to give me alternatives to the things that actually mean a lot to me.

I could have explained to my mom for the umpteenth time why it was important for me to have a cell phone to start keeping up with my friends over the summer before we all went away to college the next year. Or that the reason that I needed to land gigs at Arrow Crest Mall was for similar reasons.

I wanted to be near my friends. I wanted to spend time with them before this part of our lives was all over and we were flung across the country to different campuses. It wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

Apparently it was. 

“Thanks, Mom,” I said when she dropped me off. I tried to put on my best I-promise-that-I’m-one-hundred-percent-grateful smile right before she drove off. 

From the outside, Ocean Park Mall looked like your average shopping complex. Not the kind of place where businesses came to get robbed. But the moment you walked inside, it became clear that Ocean Park was well on its way to becoming a dead mall.

I looked around and sighed.

The first thing I noticed was the outdated paint job from the eighties. My eyes scanned the giant palms that were thoughtfully arranged to give the space a comfortably populated feeling. I followed their trunks up to the vast atrium ceiling. I suspected that the pyramid design usually let in a lot of natural light, but today it was raining. It made the already lonely space feel more like an indoor graveyard.

I wandered over to one of the central fountains and took a seat on the ledge. The sound of rushing water did little to soothe my nerves.

If I had a cell phone right now, I could see if anyone was willing to meet up.

I grumbled the thought aloud, but the truth was, I wasn’t so sure if any of my friends would come all the way out here just to hang with me.

Judging from the conversations I had on my home landline last night, all of my friends had some excuse as to why they couldn’t make it this week.

Work.

Babysitting.

No gas money.

They all seemed pretty legit, but I probably could have gotten one of them to say yes if I pushed hard enough. 

But who wants to work that hard to convince their friends to want to go out their way? I felt like I was good enough to be worth the inconvenience. At least, I did before going into each of those conversations.

I wrapped my arms around my bare shoulders and did my best to not look as pitiful as I felt. After glancing around to make sure that no one was looking, I bowed my head and let my anxiety consume me.

There was a strong chance that I knew some of the kids that hung out at Ocean Park. Some of them probably even worked here. I used to attend the middle school in this area before my parents enrolled me in the charter school on the other side of town. 

I hadn’t kept in touch with anyone since I left. I wasn’t the only one from that feeder school who didn’t opt to go to the nearest high school. From what I gathered, transfer kids like me were considered stuck up. As if I had a choice in where my parents decided to send me to school. 

I prayed that no one recognized me. Maybe I would be lucky and no one from my old school would cross my path. 

But that was very hopeful thinking.

“Aqua?”

My head lifted automatically without even realizing that my worst fear had already come to pass. I hadn’t even been here for five minutes before someone recognized me. 

“Uh, yeah?” I said without thinking twice. The last thing I needed was someone thinking there was something wrong with me.

“Whoa, it really is you. Your hair was black in the headshots you sent, so I wasn’t sure.”

I stood up, realizing that I was talking to one of the designers. When it came to these small business boutiques, it was very important to get to know your designer as best as one could. This person had sort of shaggy, dirty blond hair with a natural redness to her cheeks and lips. When she smiled, I was hit with a wave of breath mints.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait,” I said, jutting out my hand to shake the designer’s. She was about four inches shorter than me. I wasn’t that tall for a model – only five feet, seven inches. 

“Nice to meet you…” I said, shaking her hand sincerely but not knowing how to address her.

“It’s Elliot!” She said brightly. Then craned her neck a bit and added, “Wow. You have really great bone structure. Your pictures are awesome, but they don’t do you justice.”

I gave her a genuine thank you and couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Everyone says that when they meet me.”

Elliot let go of my hand. “Well, it’s true! I’m excited to work with you. And don’t worry about being late. I’m totally early. You can come with me now if you don’t mind helping me open up?”

Most of the mall stores weren’t open yet and I wasn’t about to hang out in an empty food court, so I agreed to tag along. Plus, I already felt comfortable around Elliot. I was curious to learn more about her point of view as a designer. 

As it turned out, she hadn’t had her store up for very long. She said that she was just starting out in the business and renting out a space in Ocean Park was the best decision financially.

“I mean, I know this place is supposed to be haunted or whatever. But I just don’t have that many options, you know what I mean?”

I was doing just fine listening to her until she said the word haunted.

Elliot must have seen the look on my face because she snorted and said, “C’mon, Aqua. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumors? What with that store getting robbed and no one having a single clue who did it or how they even pulled it off? Everyone’s saying it was probably a ghost.”

Based on her tone, I’m guessing that no one actually believed this rumor. Not even her.

I did my best to laugh along with Elliot as I helped her unlock the padlock to the store and pull back the gates. While Elliot was lifting the metal curtain, I noticed someone coming around the corner.

This person wasn’t wearing shoes.

Or a shirt for that matter. Just a pair of dark denims.

I blinked, trying not to stare. But that was impossible.

A guy with dark shoulder-length hair walked past us. He was close enough to me that his shoulder swept some of my teal curls to the side. He seemed pretty damn confident for someone walking around shirtless inside a shopping mall, but there was a shadow hanging about him as well. As if he barely registered that he was walking so close to us.

“Morning, Sean,” Elliot said in a voice that suggested this wasn’t the first time this had happened. 

The six-foot dark cloud of a boy had already passed by us, but he stopped sort of abruptly and looked over his shoulder.

His eyes scanned us once, lingering on me just a hair longer. As if he was trying to figure out who the hell I was.

“Uh, yeah. Good morning.” His brows came together in the faintest degree of frustration. “Um…”

“Elliot!” The shop owner chimed, clearly finding Sean’s spaced-out reaction quite endearing. Then she clapped me on the back and said, “And this is Aqua. She’s going to be working my looks in the runway show next month.”

Sean blinked a couple of times. I wondered if he had even heard of a fashion show before. That’s how clueless he looked.

“Right.” Sean’s eyes had finally cleared in understanding. “See you then, I guess. Um… Elliot.”

Elliot snapped her fingers and shot Sean a wink. “Yeah you will!”

The muscles in Sean’s face eased a bit. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something pretty close.

“And... Aqua.” 

I don’t know if he did this purposely, but Sean turned slightly at the waist when he said my name so that his chest was facing me.

“See you around.”

He almost made it sound like a question. 

I honestly can’t remember what I said. Probably just “yeah.” Nothing memorable, witty or cute, that was for sure.

When the guy had left, I asked, “Who was that and why did you make him talk to us?”

Elliot gave a heartfelt chuckle as she flicked on the lights to her shop.

“That was Sean Mori. Sorry, but I absolutely could not help myself. He’s hilarious and adorable and I had a sneaking suspicion that meeting you would get him to say something other than, ‘Uh hey.’”

For a second, Elliot embodied Sean’s particular flavor of spacey-hot-mess when she imitated him. Then the designer broke character and flashed me a sly grin. “Turns out I was right.”

I scoffed as I followed Elliot to the checkout counter and leaned on the corner while she set up the register.

“Please. He didn’t even smile. He was totally checked out with both of us.”

Elliot snickered and shook her head, but she didn’t try to prove me wrong. 

“What is up with that guy anyway?” I said, thinking back to Sean’s lean muscle definition. He wasn’t a Greek god or anything, but… I liked what I saw. “I mean, who were we talking to just now?” 

“Well, Aqua, if the rumors about this place are true,” Elliot closed the register and sighed, “then you just met our resident ghost buster.”

[themaladaptivewriter12]

Title: Fate or Fate?

Part 2 of my "16-Bit Heart" series! Part 1 here

Summary:

After Mirai gets accepted to his new Guild, The Underworld, fates starts to play little games with Mirai's heart as he begins to come to the conclusion that he has a crush on the Iginihyde Housewarden, Idia Shroud.

cw: None!

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do!

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

“Ba-bum! Welcome to our guild house,” Gloomurai droned, his character doing a little spin, his arms out doing jazz hands. 

Mirai laughed at Gloomurai’s antics. The Underworld was an overgrown stone manor. It wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t too small either. It was three floors, the outside a dark gray stone, with vines adorned with vibrant blue flowers crawling all over the exterior. The windows were lit with a warm gold glow that seemed to make the whole place look cozy, despite the foggy cloudy rain weather. 

Inside it looked like a cozy little cottage, and like the others said, there were cat decorations everywhere. The pillows, the rugs, the blankets, even the clock were either cat patterned, or cat shaped. But other than that, everything was inviting.

“Anything you can interact with, you can use,” Gloomurai said. “There are crafting tables in the workshop, stoves in the kitchen, and forages in the basement.”

“Practical,” Mirai, playing as Apollo said. 

“IMO, it makes better sense that way than to have everything piled up outside like everyone else does.”

Mirai agreed. Back at home, whenever he had played games like this, storage always went in the bedroom, food related crafting in the kitchen, the crafting table in the workshop or living room, and the forage outside. 

“I have a guild chest that I restock every week. You’re more than welcome to take and add as you please,” Gloomurai droned. 

“Cool. Thanks,” Mirai said.

“You, you don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to.”

Gloomurai cleared his throat, “A-Anyways, now that you’re a permanent member now, allow me to give you the rundown.”

Gloomurai explained how the guild was run in more depth. Apparently the guild cap was actually one hundred, but Gloomurai liked to keep it as a smattering ten, yet his guild was still the top five in the entire server. When Mirai asked why and how he kept it that way, his response was “I hate people and dedication.” But that’s why he was such a stickler for doing dailies and raids. In this game, Guild Power was evaluated on the Dungeons and Sever Events, it didn’t matter if you had the full one hundred, if you didn’t raid, you didn’t rank. 

By the time the Guild Leader finished explaining how to optimize EXP, Mirai was dozing. Mirai checked his phone and it read four in the morning. 

“You’re gonna wanna put the majority of your EXP into your healing stats, then your health, then your shield. The rest will go into combat. I want to make sure your health is high enough for you to survive, we don’t need you to be too brawly, we need you to heal. Ya feel me?” Gloomurai rambled.

Mirai just hummed.

“You tired?”

“Yeah, a li-” Mirai yawned, “sorry. Yeah, a little.”

“Then let's head off. I’ll send you a link to our Keyboard server. We share our strats there. We talk there sometimes too, but we don’t share anything too personal. Make sure you DL it and register under your gamertag, and not your IRL one.”

“Ok, will do. Good night.”

“GN.”

It had been a month since Mirai joined the Underworld and he was having so much fun. Each and every one of them were high school students, Mirai included, so I made things a lot more relatable. When they had tests or homework they’d complain together, and even made a secondary Keyboard server for homework help. But Mirai was happy. He had more friends, online friends, and it was different. 

He had attended two dungeon raids, participated in a Server Event, and even participated in a Guild War. And Mirai had gotten to know his guild members all the while. For their raids, they split up into two teams of five since only teams of five could fight at a time. Mirai was more than happy to be on Gloomurai’s team, while the rest were on the Vice’s team. There were ten levels they had to pass, and if they were successful, there was a huge chest full of drops that would spawn at the end. Mirai had gotten so much EXP the first time, that he leveled up twice. But now at level forty-five, he was stronger, and closer to his Milestone Level. 

Gloomurai had explained that at each Milestone Level the player had to make a decision, and each was different. Mirai’s last one Milestone had him choose between more hp or more ap, but this next one, Gloomurai said he’d have to make a decision affecting his class. Mirai couldn’t wait, because that meant he could open the next part to his skill tree for his character. But none of this could happen if it weren’t for his Guild Master, Gloomurai, he had helped Mirai like he said he would. He helped tailor his character, not just for the Guild and his class, but for Mirai as well. 

It was Friday night, they just had a successful raid. Khan, Rocinante, and Leslie, Mirai’s raid team members, had logged off for the night. The other five, GotSkill?, War Machine, PixieStic, Fafnir, and the Vice, MetaBoy, had also logged off. Mirai wasn’t sure if their Guild Master logged off yet, his headset had been dead silent for about half an hour now, but Mirai didn’t mind, he was just tweaking his character in the mirror, changing armor, and checking weapons. 

 After equipping Apollo with a new harp, and a new dancer’s outfit, Mirai stretched, looking at the time. It was only midnight. Thinking it was much later, which it wasn’t, Mirai got up to check on Grim. He had found the little monster in his room, scrolling on his tablet. They had found early on that Grim’s paws were too big for the phone screen, so they compromised and got him a tablet. He could call on it, watch videos, and use Magicam all the same. 

“Hey Grim, Ima head down to the vending machine, you want anything?” Mirai asked, getting Grim’s attention. 

“A bag of shrimp puffs,” Grim said excitedly.

“Gotcha.”  

Mirai made his way down towards the school, it was kinda chilly outside, the wind was blowing a bit and Mirai honestly wished he had bought his jacket. Mirai still found it astonishing that the school left the side door unlocked. Anyone could get in at any hour, much like how he was about to do, but they could do something so much worse than buying junk food. And of course there were vending machines outside of the building, but the one inside was the only one that carried the caramel flavored chocolate bars. It honestly was dangerous and very stupid, but at the same time, Mirai was glad, it meant gummy worms, and chocolate at any hour of the day.

Finally making it to the side door, Mirai pulled it open and quietly made his way to the vending machine. Just because it was unlocked didn’t mean he still couldn’t get in trouble. Passing empty classrooms, Mirai was just about to turn the corner when he heard someone’s voice. Quickly, Mirai stumbled back, his heart in his throat as he hid behind the wall. His heart was pounding, his hands were sweating, and a small voice in the back of his mind was yelling at him just to turn around and go to the one outside Sam’s shop. But curiosity got the better of him, and Mirai peeked around the corner and spotted a big ball of blue. For a second he had thought it was Grim, but he remembered he left the cat monster at home. But after he looked again, he found that it was a person, a student at that. Mirai sighed in relief, glad he wasn’t about to get in serious trouble, and turned the corner, heading towards the guy.

Mirai guessed the guy hadn’t seen him coming until he was next to him, for the serious face the blue haired student was just sporting morphed into something akin to terror the moment he realized he wasn’t alone anymore. The guy jumped with a shriek, slapping both his hands over his mouth, as he stumped backwards. Mirai gave a small apologetic smile, waving, but the guy just stared at him, beautiful gold eyes wide in fear.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Mirai said, chuckling.

The blue haired guy didn’t say anything, nor did he move from where he shoved himself against the opposite wall. Mirai just shrugged and put his Marks into the machine. He got Grim’s chips first, making sure Grim got his share, then his chocolate bar next. He got his gummies and last was his Blue Raspberry Wendigo Energy Drink. Mirai definitely didn’t need it, but he loved the taste. And just as Mirai thought he was in the clear, his drink got stuck on the way down. 

“Huh? Oh, c’mon,” Mirai grumbled. 

Of course something like this had to happen. He wasn’t even supposed to be in here, the guy was still standing by, waiting his turn, and now his drink was stuck. And he had a game to get back to. Great, just great.

Mirai stood back before shoving his right arm into the machine. Nothing happened. Mirai groaned, smacking against the outside, nothing. Mirai whined hopelessly. He didn’t have any more Marks, he had only bought enough, but he didn’t want to leave his drink, and to top it off, he probably looked like the dumbest loser to this guy right now. 

“Sorry, dude,” Mirai apologized. “Uh, lemme, uh, lemme try one more time and if it doesn't drop, you can have it.”

Mirai didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed what he could of the machine and tried to rock it, it didn’t budge and all Mirai did was strain his shoulder. Mirai sighed and gave up. 

“This sucks,” Mirai muttered to himself. 

Mirai turned to the guy. He looked kinda mad, and Mirai felt bad. 

“S-Sorry, man. Didn’t need it anyways. Uh, consider it a gift for putting up with me, well, if you can get it out, that is,” Mirai rambled.

All Mirai got was silence. 

“Well, see ya,” Mirai waved, jogging out of the building, leaving the blue haired guy and his drink behind. 

Mirai slept in the next morning, thanking his past self for switching shifts at Sam’s to the closing shift. He spent his afternoon cleaning, finishing his homework, talking with the ghosts, and before he had to leave, Mirai fed Grim. Mirai hated leaving Grim, but someone had to pay for their food expenses, and Grim sure wasn’t going to.

The closing shift as Sam’s was always unpredictable, hence why Mirai always preferred the opening shift. The morning shifts were always slow and quiet, picking up towards lunch. The midday shift was utter chaos, but predictable, which is why he stayed away from it when he could. But the closing shift was different. Some nights it was jam packed with students, but others, it was slow and quiet. Mirai wasn’t too keen on busy nights, he liked being able to chill and talk with Sam, not fight with hungry Beastmen and overly rowdy party planners. 

Luckily tonight wasn’t too busy, the clientele dwindling as it got closer to closing. Sam whistled to the radio as he took inventory, pen scratching away at his little notepad, while Mirai manned the counter. Mirai was staring off at the clutter at the shop when his phone pinged, it was his Keyboard Server.

PixieStic: Anyone wanna farm mobs?

GotSkill?: I’m game XD

Leslie: give me 5

Roci: Wait for me darlings! <3

Khan: GROSS

Roci: QQ

War Machine: I gotta study (-_-)

PixieStic: F

Fafnir: F

Leslie: f

Roci: FFFFFFF

GotSkill?: what about you Meta

Metaboy: I’m busy right now.

Leslie: Apollo??

Apollo: I’m working

Leslie: :O

GotSkill?: :O

War Machine: :O

Roci: :O

Apollo: LOLOL

Boss: F for respects

Khan: my condolences

Roci: Boss!:D

Boss: Hey

Fafnir: I thought you were a high school student

Apollo: I am. I have a part time job

PixieStic: Suckz to be you

Khan: LOLZ

Leslie: LMAO 

MetaBoy: I think it’s a good thing!

Apollo: Thx Meta XD

The bell on the door chimed, signaling they had a customer. Mirai jumped up from his phone, quickly sending a text to the chat that he had to go. Mirai didn’t see who it was, but he hoped they did take too long. Mirai swayed to the radio as waited, and waited, and waited. Mirai huffed, whoever this was, they were sure taking their time. 

Mirai was about to pick his phone up once more when a plume of blue caught his eye. Mirai looked up and was surprised, it was the guy from last night, and apparently the dark lighting of the NRC hallways didn’t do this guy justice, because in the bright lights of the shop, Mirai could actually make out this guy's face, and Mirai was absolutely floored with this guy's looks. The guy was tall, pale, and gorgeous. His blue hair was like fire, it flickered and danced as if it had a mind of its own, and Mirai was distantly wondering if it was hot to the touch. His teeth were pearly white and sharp as the bit at his glossy blue lips. Mirai was honestly astonished with the different types of people he encounters on a daily basis here, from Beastmen, Merfolk, and now guys with fire for hair, it was really like he was in a fantasy RPG. 

Mirai tried to get himself together as the guy slowly put his purchase onto the counter so Mirai could ring it up. The guy had an air of melancholy to him that seemed to waft off of him in waves. His amber anxiety filled eyes, lined the deepest eye bags Mirai had ever seen, darted around the room as fiddled with his sleeves. He was anxious, and Mirai couldn’t help but to feel a little bad for him.

“That will be two fifty,” Mirai said, stretching his arms over his head. 

The guy just nodded, pulling the crumpled Marks from his pocket and placed them onto the counter. 

“Would you like a bag for that?” Mirai asked as he put the currency into the register.

The guy nodded.

Mirai carefully bagged the items and scooted the bag forward.

“Thanks, have a good evening,” Mirai said, the words more genuine than they normally were. When you had to use the same formalities over and over, it got old pretty fast.

Mirai didn’t get a word back as the guy hurriedly took his bag and rushed out. So the guy was an introvert, Mirai didn’t mind, he was still hot, he was just kinda bummed about not being able to hear the guy's voice. 

“You think he’s good looking, don’t you, Little Imp?”

Mirai jumped with a gasp and Sam cackled wickedly. Mirai pouted, face flushing as he crossed his arms petulantly. 

“I jest,” Sam laughed, “I jest.”

“So what if I think he’s cute,” Mirai pouted. “Like, half of the student body are hunks and pretty boys.”

“But you’ve taken a liking to Shroud.”

“Shroud? Is that his name?” Mirai asked intriguingly. 

Sam laughed, “Shroud, Id-”

Sam was cut off by a flurry of Scarabia students. 

“Hey, Imps,” Sam said, switching to business mode, “What can I getcha?”

They never got to finish their conversation.

Mirai’s week had been absolutely jammed packed with stuff, and he barely had time to do his dailies. The Freshmen had a history project due the following week, Ace and Deuce got Mirai in trouble with Vargas, Kalim all but dragged Mirai to one of his “get togethers”, Mirai was late to homeroom on Wednesday and by the time Friday rolled around, Mirai was exhausted. 

Mirai had just finished helping Professor Crewel when he got a notification that there was an emergency Housewarden meeting in the next ten minutes. Mirai groaned, turning back down the road to Ramshackle and headed to the Hall of Mirrors to fetch Malleus, keeping his end of the bargain that he promised to Lilia. Once Mirai made it to Diasomnia, ready to fetch the wayward Housewarden, Silver had informed him that Lilia actually just left with Malleus the very exact meeting Mirai was supposed to bring Malleus to. Mirai just thanked him numbly and turned around. Now he was late. 

Mirai sprinted across campus as he tried to make it on time. He despised being late, it was humiliating. All the eyes looking at him as he entered the room, full of scorn and disappointment, it was horrible. Mirai was even tempted to skip and feign sickness. 

Mirai was so close to the Headmage’s Office when he was stopped by a ghost.

“Hey, are you headed to see Headmage Crowley?” The ghost asked.

“Uh, uh, uh, y-yeah?” Mirai huffed, chest burning.

“Oh, good. You can take these then.”

The ghost didn’t even give Mirai a chance to say anything as he dropped the stack of books into Mirai’s arms and literally dissipated into thin air. All Mirai could do was get the last of his dwindling brain cells together as he stood there, mouth agape. 

Mirai was officially late, as he struggled to carry the books to the Headmage’s Office. Upon making it to the door, Mirai slumped against the wall next to it, trying to figure out how he was gonna get them inside. Mirai closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The entire week was a nightmare and he still had to Dungeon Raid after this. Hopefully he wasn’t late for that as well. 

As Mirai was cursing his own existence, he hadn’t realized a student walking up to him, until he heard footsteps. Mirai jumped, eyes flying open when he was once again met with the guy he was slightly crushing on.

“You’re in the way,” the table that the flaming haired student was holding said.

Mirai was surprised. Was the guy mute or something? Mirai was curious, but he wasn’t gonna be rude about it and ask.

“O-Oh, oh, yeah, sorry,” Mirai stammered. “Lemme just-”

Mirai backed up towards the door, but what he didn’t know was it was actually left ajar, so instead of meeting solid wood, he flew backwards. Mirai cursed loudly as he stumbled backwards into the room, all eyes on him as he toppled over, books flying everywhere as he hit the ground, a couple smashing him in the face. Mirai could hear laughter, mostly Leona’s and Ruggie’s as he groaned, rolling over as he held his nose. Was it broken? Mirai was sure it was broken. And if not, it was bleeding. 

“You’re late, Mirai,” Riddle scolded.

“I wouldn’t have been, if a ghost hadn’t made me his delivery boy,” Mirai groaned, standing up. 

Mirai wiggled his nose, sniffing experimentally, it was sore, but it wasn’t bleeding or broken.

 “And don’t think I forgot about you, Idia,” Riddle shouted, pointing his scepter at the blue haired guy.

So his name was Idia, Idia Shroud, Mirai thought as he picked up all the books. At least Kalim, Trey and Rook were nice enough to help. Mirai watched as he flinched, typing really fast on his tablet before it spoke.

“I didn’t feel well,” it said.

“That’s your excuse for everything,” Vil chided. 

“Do you know how long we had to wait for you?” Riddle gruffed. “Why must you always make things so difficult?! You are a Housewarden! Act like it!” 

Mirai could see Idia start to curl in on himself, and Mirai felt bad. 

“Sorry, Housewarden Riddle,” Mirai said apologetically. “I’ll try to be on time next time.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Riddle huffed, seemingly to settle down at Mirai’s apology. “Let’s get this over with.”

The meeting wasn’t too long, and too important. Crowley just wanted their opinions on cafeteria food. They were to have their dorms fill out a survey and bring it back by next week. It was pointless. Couldn’t he just have sent an email or something? But in the end, it was a waste of time.

After the meeting was over, they all ended up walking back together. Mirai didn’t mind, Kalim and he filled the walk with idle chatter, as Leona and Malleus, and Riddle and Azul bickered, much to their Vice’s chagrin. Vil was silent as he looked over what looked like a planner as Rook happily tailed him, and Idia took up the rear, listening to whatever was playing in his headset. 

Upon the bend, Mirai kept walking and the group stopped.

“Where are you going?” Kalim asked innocently.

Mirai chuckled, “Ramshackle.”

Kalim’s eye went wide, “Oh yeah! Well, have a safe trip!”

“Thanks,” Mirai waved.

Back at Ramshackle, Mirai had just enough time to cook, which was instant Ramen, use the bathroom, and set up before he had to be on. In the game, the others were already readying themselves, so it seemed he was the last one to log on. 

“Hey guys,” Mirai greeted.

“Apollo,” Roci cheered.

“Sup, dude,” Leslie greeted.

“How was work?” War Machine asked.

“Same old, same old,” Mirai said.

“What do you do?” Gloomurai droned.

“I work at a convenience store,” Mirai said, heart skipping a beat.

Mirai couldn’t get over how sexy his Guild Master’s voice sounded coming through his headset. It was like blue velvet, all silky, and the gravely edge it had scratched at his brain. This guy really needed to do an audio book or one of those ASMR things, Mirai wouldn’t care if he was reading a Doctoral Thesis or talking politics, he’d listen just to hear the guy talk.

“What’s that like?” came MetaBoy’s high pitched boyish voice.

“Just scanning, bagging, and fake formalities. Nothing special,” Mirai shrugged, even if they couldn’t see it.

“I work in a restaurant,” Khan said. “It’s all fun and games until you run out of breadsticks during the dinner rush.”

The chat was filled with laughter. 

“You scrubs ready?” Gloomurai asked, his character jumping up and down.

“Hey,” PixieStic yelled, “We are not scrubs!”

“Yeah,” GotSkill? shouted, “The only scrub here is Apollo!”

Mirai gasped. “I resent that!”

“Less talkin’ and more fast traveling,” Gloomurai chuckled. 

“Yes, Boss,” Rocinante cheered.

“Aye, Sir,” Mirai said, teleporting to their location. 

“Alright! Dungeon Raid is a go,” Fafnir laughed.

After his morning shift, and a quick run through his dailies, Mirai spent the day in the library. His history project was due on Monday and he hadn’t even started it. He needed to pick a location and give a very detailed essay on the topic. He needed a name, location, population, climate, and the magic history of the place. Mirai was at loss. He knew nothing of this world, and that made things much harder. He didn’t know which places would give him a good report, which places were easy topics, and what information would be correct or incorrect. Ace and Deuce weren’t any help, the two picking their birthplaces. Their countries? Islands? Whatever they were called here, and Mirai had nothing. The Isle of Sages was off limits, which made things harder, and Mirai was pretty sure he was gonna fail. 

It was late, like really late, he was three energy drinks in, and Mirai was still pouring over textbook after textbook. Grim had long since left, saying he was tired, and so did Ace and Deuce, lest they wanted to miss curfew. The library wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be at night. Yeah the floating books were a little jarring, and the quiet was kinda unnerving, but all in all, it was peaceful. 

Mirai, after hours of looking, chose Port O’ Bliss. He was honestly kicking himself for not choosing that sooner. Sam and him were close, so he was pretty sure Sam wouldn’t mind helping him out. With renewed vigor and a sense of freedom, Mirai shot from his seat, ready to get some well deserved sleep. 

“If only I could do America,” Mirai muttered grumpily, “This would’ve been done with.”

Mirai made his way around the room, putting back everything he used, making sure it was where he found it. Mirai really didn’t want to get in trouble, especially by Riddle for the books not being where they were supposed to be. Mirai made his way to the Geography section when he caught a flash of blue. Heart skipping a beat, Mirai peaked through the books when he saw him. Standing in a secluded corner was Idia Shroud, leaning against a shelf as he poured over a thick grimoire. It was as if fate was playing a twisted game on Mirai, and he wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Mirai was surprised that he never heard or saw his blue haired upperclassmen with how long he had been there, pouring over his studies, but then again, maybe that was why. Mirai realized he was being creepy, spying on the poor guy as he was minding his own business, and not wanting to get caught, or continue to violate this guy’s privacy, Mirai went to put his book back. 

Finally at the Geography section, Mirai realized the book’s home was two shelves too tall for him. It was Deuce who had got this book for him, and with the Heartslabyul Freshman being taller than him, Mirai wondered if there were any ladders or stools anywhere. Mirai tried standing on the tips of his toes as he tried to put it back, it didn’t work, he was still far too short. Mirai’s next plan of action was to try jumping, but that ended up with a book flat against his face. Mirai groaned, rubbing his forehead as he glared up to the empty spot.

“Just you wait, you stupid, you stupid, ugh, whatever,” Mirai grumbled, feeling stupid that he was literally threatening an empty spot in the bookshelf.

Mirai tried again, standing on his toes as he tried to put the textbook back, and just as he was about to get eight hundred pages to his face yet again, a larger hand caught the book, slipping the book back where it belonged. Mirai whipped his head around and immediately flushed at the sight of his savior, Idia Shroud. He was giving Mirai the most unimpressed look, a thin eyebrow raised in question.

“A-Ah, uh, Mirai chuckled awkwardly, “Thank you.”

Idia nodded.

The two just stood there awkwardly. Mirai wondered if Idia had something to say, or if he was waiting for Mirai to say something. Although, Mirai already had thanked him, so what else could he be waiting for? 

“Uh, well, sorry for troubling you, have a nice night, Idia,” Mirai said, waving in parting. 

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, the day before Monday, it was always the worst. The battle between trying to enjoy the rest of your weekend against the impending doom of Monday was always stressful. Sam was willing to help Mirai flesh out the majority of his history report, giving him the information that he needed. Mirai couldn’t thank Sam enough, because now he could get a grade. 

Sam manned the counter as Mirai sat beside him, writing his report. He was so grateful for Sam that Mirai hadn’t the words to express his gratitude. Not only had he given him a job, he let Mirai choose his hours, what shifts he wanted, he gave Grim and him discounts, let Mirai choose what he ate for a snack without pay, and now he was letting him do his homework on the clock. Mirai wanted to cry, but wasn’t going to, especially not on the clock. He’d cry and express his gratitude later, but, then again, Mirai had an inkling that he didn’t have to, Sam always seemed to know what he was thinking. So as Mirai did his report, Sam would just smile and ruffle his hair every so often, and Mirai knew that his thanks were already well received. 

It was close to closing when the bell on the door chimed. Both Mirai and Sam looked up, and low and behold, it was Idia. Mirai was pretty sure Twisted Wonderland was playing some kind of trick on him, but he still couldn’t figure out if he should shoot his shot or give up entirely.

“Hey, Little Imp,” Sam called, giving Idia a wave. “What can I getcha today?”

Idia looked as if he was about to say something, but the moment he spotted Mirai on the stool beside Sam, he clammed up, his shoulders going up to his ears. Mirai didn’t take it to heart, he figured he wasn’t used to talking around people he didn’t know. Mirai didn’t move to make any conversation as Sam purposely made Mirai ring Idia up, the guy looked ready to jump out of his skin. But Mirai did pay attention to what Idia was purchasing. There was a truckload of sweets, little cakes, lollipops, gummies, and one Mirai had never seen before, Pomegranate Drops. And the last thing to go up, a Lemon Wendigo Energy Drink.

“Lemon huh,” Mirai muttered, scanning the drink. “Is it any good? I hate the way lemon makes my mouth feel sometimes.”

“Does it matter?” the tablet spoke back. “Lemon flavor has the right amount of sweet and sour, you can’t go wrong.”

Mirai chuckled to himself, but Idia didn’t say anything else.

“Thanks for shopping. Have a nice night,” Mirai smiled brightly.

Idia flushed, seemingly not sure what to do with himself, so he just snatched the brown paper bag off the counter and scurried out of the shop.

One Mirai was sure he was gone, he slouched onto the stool, a dreamy smile crawling its way onto his warming face. It was the first time they really had something close to a proper conversation. And Idia willingly replied to him. 

“So,” Sam said smugly, “That was a start.”

Mirai chuckled nervously, “Y-Yeah.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know, but I wanna try.”

Mirai knew he had just as much luck as oil mixing with water. He could tell Idia would be a tough nut to crack, he was seriously introverted, shy, and it looked like social anxiety, and Mirai would know, he suffered from social anxiety himself. He was aware of the triggers and how it would make Idia feel, but the toughest part was actually getting Idia to talk to him. How does one even talk to someone who absolutely despises human interaction? There had to be a way, there just had to be. And to whatever Twisted Wonderland entity was testing him, Mirai was hoping he got his answers soon.