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hes-writer · 4 years

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Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now, suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #Harry styles fan fic #Harry styles fanfiction

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trashcankitty12 · 3 years

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Helia Headcanons

Helia Scofield, nephew of Saladin; Master Artist in the making.

Don’t let his soft demeanor and pacifistic leanings fool you; Helia’s up for the fight if he’s needed.

(All headcanons are mainly for my verses: Left and the New Company of Light. Fair warning.)

-Helia was born to Harley and Hannah Scofield.

-Hannah, Saladin’s twin (and the elder twin, thank you) is an illusion-based witch who works with her Great Uncle’s army. She’s a commander of the Pegasus Unit of the Callistan Army, and unlike her brother, tries to keep herself out of trouble.

-Harley’s more of a gentle soul who enjoys art and runs an art gallery in Callisto.

-As you can imagine, his parents, though loving to him and though they did love each other at one point, have had many disagreements about their lifestyles and what would be best for the family.

-Harley was more pacifistic while Hannah preferred to ‘face things head on’. (Both have great strategic minds though, and… Tended to use them against each other.)

-At a young age, Helia showed potential for magic. Hannah and Saladin tried to help hone his potential skills as a wizard, but the best he could do was simple spells to make himself faster and stronger than normal and to send magic notes. (And a few other minimalistic spells. He couldn’t do anything fancy like his mom and uncle though…)

-It didn’t really bum him out too much though. In fact, it was partially a relief that he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting someone with his magic if his feelings or concentration went out of control. And he had an easy way of keeping his utensils nearby while he was working.

-Helia was in a junior sword fighting league as a kid, something his Uncle Saladin and his mother were very proud of. (Though his father thought it reckless and dangerous and ugly… Even if there was a sort of elegance to sword fighting when done right.)

-He also participated in art clubs at his school and did his to earn high marks in elementary and middle school. (He tended to be a daydreamer and often spaced out in class, especially if the subject was boring to him. Which became another argument for his parents.)

-When he was about 12/13, his parents decided to divorce. Hannah relocated and deployed to serve in Magix at the Callistan Embassy (and to be closer to her brother). His father remained in Callisto.

-He was actually happy that they finally divorced, thrilled to never have to hear one of their ‘we’re not really arguing, just having a heated discussion’ sort of fights. Having to decide where to live and what his plans for the future, however, made him sick.

-His social anxiety was through the roof anyway, and on top of all of this… His art took a bit of a dark turn and so did his poetry.

-How dare his parents fight each other and then demand he choose? How dare they implode on him like this?

-(Faragonda and Griffin were honestly the best people during this time. And so were his childhood friends. They helped him keep his cool and realize what he wanted and how to go about talking to his parents about this stuff.)

-Helia left the sword fighting league, he never really enjoyed it anyway except for the moments he was benched and could sketch the matches. And he decided to stay with his father and enroll at the Callistan Art Academy. His mother was so proud that he wanted to follow his dreams, and agreed to weekends and holidays.

-(Honestly his parents were just happy that he was talking to them again instead of pushing them away. They were so worried, they even went to therapy so they could try and do better for Helia.)

-Helia stayed in touch with some of his sword fighting league friends and kept up with his childhood friends when he went to the Art Academy.

-He loved showing off his new works and talking his friends into being models for some of his works. (One of his favorite portraits is of his best guy friend posing with his new weapon after being accepted into Red Fountain.)

-His parents did move on from each other. On his dad’s side, he has a stepdad and a lovely younger stepsister who adores him. (And he has a half-brother on the way!!)

-His mom remarried a fellow soldier, Monroe. And Monroe has two children of their own; Seneca and Marie. (Older stepsisters… They’re loud and boisterous, but they mean well and Helia enjoys watching them pose and give him fashion shows to help out his own work.)

-Though he was only at the Academy for a short time, Helia discovered many things about himself. (And made friends with the Princess of Linphea who had gotten in despite her age. The fairy is truly gifted in making topiary art.)

-He loves his charcoal brushes and using colored pencils when doing sketches. Something about the way it moves on the paper just makes him so happy.

-And he does love to paint, though he’s not much for water colors. (And never ask him to do a digital piece. The last time he tried working with a tablet, he nearly got electrocuted. Granted, it was probably a one-time thing, but he took it as a sign.)

-Poetry is second love, aside from sketching and painting. He loves being able to verbalize his feelings and put the words down that he can feel inside. Its one of the few ways he feels he can truly connect to people, since it’s easier to write down the words instead of saying them. (Though he has done poetry readings from time to time.)

-Between portraits and landscapes, Helia prefers landscapes. And he’d really gotten into architecture drawings before he left the Academy.

-Because his parents were often busy when he was a kid, he found he had useful skills to ‘adult’ while at the Academy and on his own for the first time. (He can cook fairly well, at least, you know what you’re supposed to be eating and it tastes pretty good. But he’s no Chef Langdon.)

-He was great at keeping his room spotless and clean. His workspaces however? Not so much.

-Over half his wardrobe is stained with either paint or charcoal or clay.

-(Yes, he can do pottery. Just not very well. In fact, it usually looks pretty shit, but hey, he tried.)

-After seeing the news about what happened in Magix and how his uncle’s school was destroyed and the people he cared about nearly died, Helia decided to transfer. (Which took a lot of convincing with his dad and the Dean of the Academy and Saladin.)

-But once he was in, he was in. And when given the choice about his weapon, he went with one his mother loves to use, the laser-string gloves. Great for restraint and for quick weapon-recovery in battle without potentially causing further harm.

-Add in his ability to make himself stronger, and he can wield that glove with the confidence of a sword fighter.

-He quickly clicked with Timmy once he joined their squadron, despite the two having different views of technology.

-Helia was Riven’s roommate though, and while their personalities didn’t compete with each other, they didn’t completely get along either. (Riven reminded Helia of Hannah with his ‘let’s just face it’ ways and Riven felt Helia wasn’t much of a hero if all he did was restrain instead of fight.)

-Of course, as time went on, Helia and Riven do have respect for each other, and have many inside jokes that came from their time living together.

-Helia quickly found he was one of the ‘advisors’ of the group, with everyone coming to him for advice. He was flattered, sure, but dudes… Just because he managed to get what he got, doesn’t mean he knows how he did it.

-Aside from training with his gloves, he’s good using a whip and decent with a sword. Bows and arrows/anything needing aim isn’t his strong suit. He’s also not the best at giving reports on how things went on their missions, which is why that task gets delegated to Sky or Riven.

-He trained as a medic too, deciding that while he wouldn’t be the best in a fight, he can help with the aftermath. And his squad kind of needed a medic aside from Timmy and Brandon…

-Helia may not enjoy fighting, but he’s not above doing what’s necessary when the people he cares about are in danger. There have been plenty of times, not just when saving the Magical Dimension, that Helia has risked his life and limbs to protect his friends.

-One such incident was a survival trip to the Marshlands of Amanal. Brandon never would have made it home in one piece if Helia hadn’t thrown himself at the hippogriff. (And he somehow managed to befriend it afterward. No, he has no memory of how he did it.)

-Helia tends to be a stress-sketcher. Worried about a test? Doodles on his notes from class. Worried about an upcoming mission? Sketchbook in hand. Relationship issues? Sketchbook.

-Oh! He’s a great pilot too! Helia has a great sense of direction and has grown up around the ships, so he knows how to work them. (Now, if you want to know what makes them tick or how to put them together if they fall apart, ask someone else. Preferably Timmy or Riven.)

-Helia has a whole stash of teas. A collection, if you will. (Something that he blames Faragonda for, but hey, it’s not the worst habit ever.)

-After all the traveling he’s done thanks to Red Fountain, Helia sort of understands better why his mom and uncle loved their military days so much. Seeing new places, learning new things, enjoying new foods… It’s quite an existence. (If you can look passed all the fighting and wars and invasions…)

-Yes, Helia does yoga. He also enjoys dance. (And with friends like Layla, Musa, and Nabu, he never has to do it alone.)

-Some of his favorite people to sketch: Flora, for her grace and beauty and the way she seems to just breathe life into natural settings; Sky, for his posture and presence and ability to always appear in charge; Layla, for her strength and grace and how every body of water seems to be at her command; and finally, Timmy and Tecna, As a couple, those two just radiate this feeling of joy and it just… How can you not want to sketch it?!

-(Kiko is also a favorite sketch subject. The little rabbit just has so much personality!)

-This may come as a shock to people, but Helia enjoys horror movies. Preferably the psychological/thriller-based horror movies. It’s the way they capture human emotion and it’s just so poignant and interesting. He wants to learn how to convey such feelings in his work.

-Between his parents, you’d think Helia was closer to his father… In actuality, he’s closer to his mother.

-His mom enjoyed doing things and showing him things and just getting him to be more active and curious as a child.

-His father was more of a watcher. An observer-type. Always looking for something awe-inspiring for his next piece. (Something Helia and Harley bond over now. And laugh at, from time to time.)

-Helia enjoys swapping sketching ideas with Bloom and Stella, looking to see what they’re up to and how they can try and work off of each other.

-(And he has done some physical character sheets and layout ideas for Tecna’s video game idea to help her see her vision more clearly.)

-Helia doesn’t play a lot of video games. They’re just not his thing… But he does have a soft spot for the Sims series after Bloom introduced him to it, and he enjoys this maze creation game that a Solarian gaming company came up with for phones (level 200!!!).

-He swears more than people think he does. It’s almost comical how shocked people are when they meet this ‘sweet and soulful guy’ and then he drops a few ‘f’ bombs while working on his projects. (Not just ‘f’ bombs either… Dude gets creative with his curses. Even Riven’s impressed.)

-Helia didn’t go to Earth with the others, instead taking up a job offer on Callisto to help with remodeling his great uncle’s barracks. (And now, the castle itself… He’s so honored it’s his designs in the works.)

-However, he does visit from time to time. It makes him a little sad though, seeing Earth the way it is. All the pollution creating cars, the strange fashion, the way people seem to disregard each other. It’s so sad.

-When the ‘saving the Magical Dimension’ stuff stops, Helia’s hoping to join with his father’s art gallery and to build on his portfolio of projects. (He knows he already has a few jobs waiting for him, like Stella’s coronation portrait for when she becomes queen.)

-He just hopes his works inspire and touch people the way they do as he works on them.

#winx club #winx club au #winx club headcanons #winx club helia #winx helia headcanons #helia scofield #winx club helia headcanons #helia au #artistic warrior

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huntertales · 4 years

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What Should We Name Him?

Summary: Three years after gaining control of his own destiny, Dean Winchester discovers a puppy abandoned on the side of the road. What should he do? Take it home to his wife and children, of course. Painting: Dean Winchester x Reader (Series Rewrite Setting) Word Count: 2,137. Warning: Possible spoilers for 15.19! (???)

This might be my little take on what life would be like after the show “ended.” (Plus I believe this is how that scene should have ended.) I wrote this out of whim, so it's not perfect. But there’s a whole lot of fluff because we need it right now. Enjoy!

Dean loves the high he gets after finishing up a hunt. He spent three days in Missouri due to a nasty vampire nest Sam was trying to take down with Eileen that got out of control and required some backup. His brother and fiancée decided to stick around to clean up, letting Dean slip back to the bunker and to his own awaiting family back in Kansas.

The Impala drives down the empty road he’s taken thousands of times that always leads him back home. His favorite tunes play as he enjoys the feeling of the wind rushing through the open windows all by himself. Today is perfect weather with the sun shining bright in the blue sky, not a single cloud in sight. No little kids trying to touch the buttons to the radio or asking what the strange rectangular object is after they went snooping around underneath the seats searching for a toy they dropped. It was just Dean and Baby, just like the good old times. The only thing missing was his wife and little brother in their respective seats singing along.

Dean finishes out the classic rock song by softly slapping his hands along with the rhythm of the drums. The music gets shut off for a brief moment when he spots the gas station he always stops by to fill up the Impala. He continues on with his routine of getting gas and thinking about what to get inside. Maybe some candy for the twins when you told them about how well they did on their spelling test. Hell, he might even pick up a six pack to celebrate the successful hunt.

He stopped drinking heavily as he had in the past. And the hunts he participated in slowly dropped to only a few times a month. Dean’s lifestyle changed dramatically when Chuck was kicked out of the picture. It allowed Dean to breathe and step back at the life he was finally able to control. The man wasn’t getting any younger and his kids were growing up fast. He wanted to be a good father, best that he could be. Which meant not having the twins creating memories of him nursing a beer at ten in the morning. And forcing himself to let Sam do more of the cooking and incorporating some greens into his meals.

Dean wanted to live long enough to see his babies grow up—see what they were going to do with their lives. Make decisions their parents were never allowed to. Dean’s entire life someone has been telling him what to do, writing down what to say. Not anymore. For the first time ever the curse was broken and he was able to do what he wanted. And he wanted to be a better man. He wanted to grow old with his wife and raise his children right. Watch his baby brother walk down the aisle with Eileen. Have some quality time with his friends and live his own life, damnit. And he was.

Dean checked his phone while filling up Baby to see you responded back to his text about heading back from the hunt. Like always, you warned him about making it back safe and signed off with a quick ‘love you ❤” that never ceased to make his own heart beat faster. He smiled to himself and shoved his phone into his back pocket once again. If there was one thing in this world that he knew, it was his love for you was tried and true. Your love was not a story that could be written or broken up. No one or nothing would be able to take that away from him.

After doing his normal routine and fetching a few snakes for the short ride home, Dean decided to make one more stop to the bathroom when he spotted the sign on his way back to the Impala. That's when he hears it—a whimper. The noise caught him off guard as his hand lingered over the doorknob. A few seconds passed before he heard it again. Dean stepped away and tried to figure out where the noise came from. He followed it until he came across something that made him stop in his tracks.

“Hey, buddy.” Dean ever so softly greets the puppy that is hiding in a cardboard box that has seen better days. Someone might have confused it with the rest of the trash next to the dumpster. Inside was a puppy that had to be only weeks old with old sheets. Dean dropped down to a crouch to carefully inspect the puppy for any possible tags indicating an order. His lips stretched into a frown when there was none. “Someone’s gotta be missing you, right?”

Dean knew he couldn't leave the poor dog on the side of the road. He always had a strict rule of never letting any non-humans into his car. The guilt would eat him inside if he let the poor dog remain abandoned. Dean picked up the box and carefully set it inside the backseat. He decided to make one more pitstop before heading home.

***

One stop ended up turning into two. The vet told him there had been no reports of a missing German Shepherd puppy recently reported. Which meant someone had abandoned the dog at the gas station in hopes someone might find him. Dean could have left it at that and headed home. But he kept staring at the dog. It reminded him of something that happened a few years ago. For some reason he wasn't able to part with the dog. He needed to be sure the mutt got a good home. The decision led to him making another stop—to the pet store.

The vet cleared the dog of any possible or diseases until the next check up. Dean splurged on the new addition to the family; puppy food the vet recommended, a dog bed, toys, anything the mutt might need. And most importantly a collar and leash. He got himself prepared with anything the dog might need. The amount of money he spent that day reminded him of the times he prepared for the birth of the twins. Expensive. But well worth it in the end. He couldn’t wait to see their faces.

***

“We’re home!”

Dean found his family where he normally did after coming home from a hunt; the twins in the library doing their homework while you and Cas kept tabs on the network of hunters across the states. You quickly looked up when you heard his voice echo through the bunker. An expression of pure relief crossed your face when you realized he was all right. You opened your mouth to ask him what took so long, but you found yourself with more questions than answers when you saw what he was holding. And the small creature at his side.

“Daddy!” The twins wasted no time dropping their pencils and jumping out of their seats to greet their father. Dean dropped the bags to the floor and crouched down to be attacked by two six-year olds with tight hugs. He embraced the both of them and gave out forehead kisses.

“Monkeys! I’ve missed you!” He greeted his children with the same amount of enthusiasm like always. “Were you two good for Mommy and Uncle Cas?” The twins nodded their head a little too eagerly.

“Dean,” You got up from your seat and headed over to your husband who had failed to yet mention the extra companion he brought home. You pointed a finger to the puppy sitting next to him. “What is that?”

“A dog.” He said a little too casually.

You rolled your eyes at the obvious response and tried again when he stood back up. “What is it doing here?”

“I found him on the side of the road.” Dean explained. “I couldn’t leave the little guy there so I brought him home.”

“Can we keep him? Please?”

“Please? Pretty please?”

“I promise I’ll walk him—”

“And I’ll feed him—”

“Okay! Okay.” You quickly stopped the twins from chattering your ear off at the possibility of adding another member to the family. You let out a quiet sigh when they wasted no effort in warming up to the dog. He was friendly enough, giving out licks and happy barks. You thought about this for a moment. “Maybe we can look after him for a little while. See if anyone lost this poor baby.”

You had to be honest, seeing the little guy made your heart swell in delight. It was always a dream of yours to own a pet. But the life you lead made it impossible. A lot of things seemed like that. Until a few years ago when it all changed for the better. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that Dean would be on board with another member of the family. Especially a furry four-legged creature.

“The vet told me no one reported any missing dogs. My bet someone abandoned him.” Dean said. Your expression quickly flashed into anger at the news at someone’s abusive and reckless behavior on a poor and defenseless creature. “I say...their loss. Our gain.”

“Wait, what?” You sounded surprised at his reaction. “Are you suggesting we keep him?”

“Why not? He’s updated on all his shots and the vet ran a whole bunch of tests. This little guy needs a good home.” Dean said. He smiled to himself at the sight of Mariella and Robert playing with the dog. Their smiles were too pure. They’d be heartbroken if Dean denied them an opportunity to have a pet. “Looks like he’s already part of the family.”

You can't help yourself when you make your way over to the dog and greet him with pets and ear scratches. You remind the twins to be careful when they take note of the puppy's floppy ears. The three of you look so happy in the moment. He couldn't wait to see Sam's reaction when he got home. He always secretly wanted a dog as his own. Today that dream was going to come true.

“What should we name the little guy?” You asked.

The twins thought about it for a moment before a round of names only a child could think of were shot off left and right, too fast for either you or Dean to keep up on. You let out a faint sigh when the discussion quickly turned into a fight about which name was better. Dean was quick to defuse the situation before it could end in tears.

“How about...” Dean crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind the ear like he seemed to enjoy. He examined the mutt for a second before the perfect name popped into his head. “Zeppelin?”

“Zeppelin?” You repeated the name, your tone the least be enthusiastic about the reference he subtly passed by you. “Are you seri—”

“Zeppelin!” Mariella shouted the name with excitement. To her it was odd and unique, something a six year old thought was perfect. “I like it, Daddy!”

“Me too!” Robert agreed.

Dean smiled to himself when you playfully rolled your eyes. Zeppelin decided to explore the bunker, his new home, with curious but cautious steps. He made his way over to the angel and started sniffing him out.

“Hello, there.” Cas greeted the puppy. He offered his hand for the dog to sniff to try and get to know him better. “You are certainly adorable. And a perfect addition to the family. German Shepherds are known to be a perfect guard dog. They are loyal and smart. Very strong."

“Sort of like you.” You softly nudged Dean with your elbow.

“Then it’s settled.” Dean said. “Zeppelin’s here to stay.”

Dean never really did like dogs. He always complained they shedded too much, barked at the smallest things and required too much attention. His opinion changed ever so slightly after taking a hunt with a German Shepherd that required him to meld minds with the animal. His opinion softened, but the lifestyle he led made it impossible up until this point in his life. But seeing this poor fella abandoned on the side of the road, the exact same way he did when all hope felt lost? He couldn’t turn his back on the dog. There was still an ounce of happiness left in him that blossomed back up.

This little guy reminded him that he was in control of his life. There was no one who was going to take Zeppelin away. Or you. Or the twins. Or Sam and his family. And most importantly, Cas. It was funny how dogs could bring out the best in people and reminded them small miracles existed. Maybe dogs weren’t so bad after all.

#supernatural #reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural x reader #spn #spn imagine #spn fanfic #spn reader insert #spn x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #mine #is this stupid? yes #is this kinda sorta poorly written? also yes #do i care? not at all

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richincolor · 3 years

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New Releases for the Week of May 3, 2021

It's great to see so many new books hitting the shelves this week. I know I've been waiting for several of these and am happy to be able to finally read them.

The Ones We’re Meant to Find by Joan He Roaring Brook

Cee has been trapped on an abandoned island for three years without any recollection of how she arrived, or memories from her life prior. All she knows is that somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, she has a sister named Kay. Determined to find her, Cee devotes her days to building a boat from junk parts scavenged inland, doing everything in her power to survive until the day she gets off the island and reunites with her sister.

In a world apart, 16-year-old STEM prodigy Kasey Mizuhara is also living a life of isolation. The eco-city she calls home is one of eight levitating around the world, built for people who protected the planet―and now need protecting from it. With natural disasters on the rise due to climate change, eco-cities provide clean air, water, and shelter. Their residents, in exchange, must spend at least a third of their time in stasis pods, conducting business virtually whenever possible to reduce their environmental footprint. While Kasey, an introvert and loner, doesn’t mind the lifestyle, her sister Celia hated it. Popular and lovable, Celia much preferred the outside world. But no one could have predicted that Celia would take a boat out to sea, never to return.

Now it’s been three months since Celia’s disappearance, and Kasey has given up hope. Logic says that her sister must be dead. But as the public decries her stance, she starts to second guess herself and decides to retrace Celia’s last steps. Where they’ll lead her, she does not know. Her sister was full of secrets. But Kasey has a secret of her own. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee Quill Tree Books

Noah Ramirez thinks he’s an expert on romance. He has to be for his popular blog, the Meet Cute Diary, a collection of trans happily ever afters. There’s just one problem—all the stories are fake. What started as the fantasies of a trans boy afraid to step out of the closet has grown into a beacon of hope for trans readers across the globe.

When a troll exposes the blog as fiction, Noah’s world unravels. The only way to save the Diary is to convince everyone that the stories are true, but he doesn’t have any proof. Then Drew walks into Noah’s life, and the pieces fall into place: Drew is willing to fake-date Noah to save the Diary. But when Noah’s feelings grow beyond their staged romance, he realizes that dating in real life isn’t quite the same as finding love on the page.

In this charming novel by Emery Lee, Noah will have to choose between following his own rules for love or discovering that the most romantic endings are the ones that go off script. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

They Better Call Me Sugar: My Journey from the Hood to the Hardwood by Sugar Rodgers Black Sheep

Growing up in dire poverty in Suffolk, Virginia, Sugar (born Ta’Shauna) Rodgers never imagined that she would become an all-star player in the WNBA (Women’s National Basketball Association). Both of her siblings were in and out of prison throughout much of her childhood and shootings in her neighborhood were commonplace. For Sugar this was just a fact of life.

While academics wasn’t a high priority for Sugar and many of her friends, athletics always played a prominent role. She mastered her three-point shot on a net her brother put up just outside their home, eventually becoming so good that she could hustle local drug dealers out of money in one-on-one contests.

With the love and support of her family and friends, Sugar’s performance on her high school basketball team led to her recruitment by the Georgetown Hoyas, and her eventual draft into the WNBA in 2013 by the Minnesota Lynx (who won the WNBA Finals in Sugar’s first year). The first of her family to attend college, Sugar speaks of her struggles both academically and as an athlete with raw honesty.

Sugar’s road to a successful career as a professional basketball player is fraught with sadness and death–including her mother’s death when she’s fourteen, which leaves Sugar essentially homeless. Throughout it all, Sugar clings to basketball as a way to keep herself focused and sane.

And now Sugar shares her story as a message of hope and inspiration for young girls and boys everywhere, but especially those growing up in economically challenging conditions. Never sugarcoating her life experiences, she delivers a powerful message of discipline, perseverance, and always believing in oneself. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry by Joya Goffney HarperTeen

Quinn keeps lists of everything—from the days she’s ugly cried, to “Things That I Would Never Admit Out Loud,” to all the boys she’d like to kiss. Her lists keep her sane. By writing her fears on paper, she never has to face them in real life. That is, until her journal goes missing…

An anonymous account posts one of her lists on Instagram for the whole school to see and blackmails her into facing seven of her greatest fears, or else her entire journal will go public. Quinn doesn’t know who to trust. Desperate, she teams up with Carter Bennett—the last known person to have her journal—in a race against time to track down the blackmailer.

Together, they journey through everything Quinn’s been too afraid to face, and along the way, Quinn finds the courage to be honest, to live in the moment, and to fall in love. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Hurricane Summer by Asha Bromfield Wednesday Books

Tilla has spent her entire life trying to make her father love her. But every six months, he leaves their family and returns to his true home: the island of Jamaica.

When Tilla’s mother tells her she’ll be spending the summer on the island, Tilla dreads the idea of seeing him again, but longs to discover what life in Jamaica has always held for him.

In an unexpected turn of events, Tilla is forced to face the storm that unravels in her own life as she learns about the dark secrets that lie beyond the veil of paradise—all in the midst of an impending hurricane.

Hurricane Summer is a powerful coming of age story that deals with colorism, classism, young love, the father-daughter dynamic—and what it means to discover your own voice in the center of complete destruction. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Indivisible by Daniel Aleman Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

There is a word Mateo Garcia and his younger sister Sophie have been taught to fear for as long as they can remember: deportation. Over the past few years, however, the fear that their undocumented immigrant parents could be sent back to Mexico has started to fade to the back of their minds. And why wouldn’t it, when their Ma and Pa have been in the United States for so long, they have American-born children, and they’re hard workers and good neighbors?

When two ICE agents come asking for Pa, the Garcia family realizes that the lives they’ve built are about to come crumbling down. And when Mateo returns from school one day to find that his parents have been taken, he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that his family’s worst nightmare has become a reality.

With his Ma and Pa being held in separate detention centers, Mateo must learn how to look after his sister and himself. The choices Mateo makes, and the people he turns to for help, might reunite his family… or tear them apart for good. With his parents’ fate and his own future hanging in the balance, Mateo must figure out who he is and what he is capable of, even as he’s forced to question what it means to be an American teenager in a country that rejects his own mom and dad. — Cover art and summary via Goodreads

Counting Down with You by Tashie Bhuiyan Inkyard Press

Karina Ahmed has a plan. Keep her head down, get through high school without a fuss, and follow her parents’ rules—even if it means sacrificing her dreams. When her parents go abroad to Bangladesh for four weeks, Karina expects some peace and quiet. Instead, one simple lie unravels everything.

Karina is my girlfriend.

Tutoring the school’s resident bad boy was already crossing a line. Pretending to date him? Out of the question. But Ace Clyde does everything right—he brings her coffee in the mornings, impresses her friends without trying, and even promises to buy her a dozen books (a week) if she goes along with his fake-dating facade. Though Karina agrees, she can’t help but start counting down the days until her parents come back.

T-minus twenty-eight days until everything returns to normal—but what if Karina no longer wants it to? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

All Kinds of Other by James Sie Quill Tree Books

In this tender, nuanced coming-of-age love story, two boys—one who is cis and one who is trans—have been guarding their hearts to protect themselves, until their feelings for each other give them a reason to stand up to their fears.

Two boys are starting at a new school.

Jules is just figuring out what it means to be gay and hasn’t totally decided whether he wants to be out at his new school. His parents and friends have all kinds of opinions, but for his part, Jules just wants to make the basketball team and keep his head down.

Jack is trying to start over after a best friend break-up. He followed his actor father clear across the country to LA, but he’s also totally ready to leave his past behind. Maybe this new school where no one knows him is exactly what he needs.

When the two boys meet, the sparks are undeniable. But then a video surfaces linking Jack to a pair of popular transgender vloggers, and the revelations about Jack’s past thrust both Jack and Jules into the spotlight they’ve been trying to avoid. Suddenly both boys have a choice to make—between lying low where it’s easier or following their hearts. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Luck of the Titanic by Stacey Lee G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers

Southampton, 1912: Seventeen-year-old British-Chinese Valora Luck has quit her job and smuggled herself aboard the Titanic with two goals in mind: to reunite with her twin brother Jamie--her only family now that both their parents are dead--and to convince a part-owner of the Ringling Brothers Circus to take the twins on as acrobats. Quick-thinking Val talks her way into opulent firstclass accommodations and finds Jamie with a group of fellow Chinese laborers in third class. But in the rigidly stratified world of the luxury liner, Val's ruse can only last so long, and after two long years apart, it's unclear if Jamie even wants the life Val proposes. Then, one moonless night in the North Atlantic, the unthinkable happens--the supposedly unsinkable ship is dealt a fatal blow--and Val and her companions suddenly find themselves in a race to survive.

Stacey Lee, master of historical fiction, brings a fresh perspective to an infamous tragedy, loosely inspired by the recently uncovered account of six Titanic survivors of Chinese descent.

#new releases #YALit

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plumoh · 3 years

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[SK8] at all times, at all sides

Rating: T

Word count: 7409

Summary: Kaoru is shaped by the choices he makes and the people surrounding him. And through the years, Kojirou was there in one way or another.

Note: AO3 link. This was posted a while after Kaoru’s birthday, as a character study of sorts, birthday by birthday. I make the assumption that in the present day, Kaoru and Kojirou are 27-28 years old.There is a brief mention of alcohol at age 20, and Kaoru is a bit drunk at age 26.

15.

Kaoru gets two additional piercings on his left ear on his fifteenth birthday.

The first one, at what is considered a normal place for an earring in the middle of the earlobe, was done as an impulsive act of brashness to show off to his friends at school at the beginning of the year. He likes the attention. The family name attached to him makes people gasp when they see him with holes in his ear, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t bring him some sort of satisfaction. It’s kind of ridiculous and entirely too stiff an attitude to be offended by some nails stuck into someone else’s skin, as if it changes who he fundamentally is. Besides, piercings are cool.

So Kaoru gets two additional piercings, a helix piercing and another one in the earlobe, and Kojirou whistles.

“You sure your parents won’t cut off your entire ear for that?” he asks, his gaze appraising Kaoru’s new look.

“I’ll live with only one ear, then,” Kaoru answers, shrugging. “What do you think? I look cool, right?”

Kaoru gestures to his ear, grinning and looking at Kojirou expectantly. He knows that he must be acting like a child who got permission to eat a second candy after dinner, but it’s his birthday and he feels he can be excited for what is, essentially, a new approach to his lifestyle. He paid for these piercings with his own pocket money (and money earned through foolish bets and challenges, and he’s thankful that most skaters are stupid).

Kojirou hums, his face pinched in intense concentration. Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s a yes or no question, Kojirou.”

“Let me give you a complete review of your new fashion style, impatient bastard,” Kojirou says.

“I don’t need a complete review! They’re just piercings!”

Kojirou always takes forever when asked to give his opinion on any topic, be it about his younger brother’s latest baseball game or the best suited color for a piece of garment Kaoru’s mother has decided to wear for an important meeting. It’s utterly unnecessary and a waste of time—Kaoru isn’t asking Kojirou to write an essay about his piercings.

“Just answer the question,” Kaoru says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, if you like your piercings so much, maybe show them off more?” Kojirou sighs. “I don’t know, you have more hair than any human being is supposed to have. It hides the piercings.”

Kaoru snorts. “Complain to my mother about that.”

But Kaoru entertains the idea.

16.

Keeping his hair long is a simple matter of preference. There is no rule in his family stating that its members should have a specific length of hair, so why not? Very few boys and men have it this long, and Kojirou always asks him why he bothers taking care of such a useless physical feature when all it does is getting into his way when he skates. Kaoru admits he does have a point, but he likes his hair.

Kaoru is currently tying it into a ponytail, lazily skating on the sidewalk around their neighborhood. Kojirou is skating at his side eating an entire soda flavored Garigari-kun popsicle, shoving it into his mouth and crunching into the ice because he likes having brain freeze.

“Hey, it’s your birthday next week,” Kojirou announces, like it’s the most thrilling event of the week. “Did you plan something? Wanna go explore some new skating areas?”

Kaoru flips his hair over his shoulder and shrugs. Kojirou is looking at him curiously, almost intently, and that makes Kaoru raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, but it’s also on the same day as some renown calligrapher from Tokyo visiting our studio. So yeah.”

“All the way from Tokyo? That sounds important.”

“Maybe. I didn’t really pay attention.”

Simply thinking about all the formal procedures that will take place in his house and the fact he will have to be on his “best behavior, please, Kaoru” is pissing him off. He’s not interested in hearing about the works of this supposedly famous and talented calligrapher bestowing upon their modest family his knowledge and wise advice. Kaoru doesn’t even know why he still attends the calligraphy lessons when he’s pretty sure he’ll go into computer science or something. His parents are always on his case about maintaining his posture and improving his strokes every day, and at some point Kaoru started obeying to make their noisy demands stop. He doesn’t genuinely hate the art itself; he simply thinks that his time is better spent elsewhere. What does calligraphy have when computers can do much more fascinating stuff?

Kojirou is nibbling at the popsicle stick, eyeing him with that critical look he often gets when he considers throwing paper balls at Kaoru in class, or when he thinks that Kaoru needs a snack to calm down, like some fucking animal he’s trying to tame—Kaoru hates that somehow, food always works.

“You want to ditch?” Kojirou asks as neutrally as possible, but Kaoru hears the sympathy in his voice. Which is appreciated, but unnecessary.

“No, I was actually thinking of scandalizing my parents by cutting my hair and having it cropped short,” Kaoru says with a half-feral grin. “Like, strands of hair sticking everywhere and impossible to make it look presentable.”

Kojirou almost stumbles on his skateboard, even though it’s a straight line and he wasn’t even pushing with his feet on the concrete.

“What?! But you never shut up about your hair!”

“You fucking liar, I only ever say I like having it long!”

“Yeah, that still makes it stupid! Why would you cut your hair if you like it long?”

“Because hair grows again?”

“Not as fast as you’d think, if you even thought about it before blurting out you want to get a bowl cut.”

“Disheveled and rowdy haircut, not a bowl cut, you idiot!”

They make a turn at the corner of the street, expertly avoiding a kid walking her dog and dodging the woman carrying groceries behind her, not without getting scolded for skating in residential areas (or skating at all) but those are words that go in one ear and exit in the other. Kaoru smiles to himself and kicks into the ground to get more speed, jumps and flips his board in the air before landing on it again with minimal risk of smashing his face in the concrete. He lifts a fist in the air with a whooping cry.

“Oh hey, that was a good one!” he exclaims, giving Kojirou a radiant grin.

“You mastered this trick long ago, why are you so excited?” Kojirou grumbles.

“Because it felt nice, that’s all. Be happy about the small things in life, that’s what you keep saying.”

“Sometimes I feel you’re purposely throwing back my words at my face only when it’s convenient for you.”

“I always listen to you, even if it might come as a surprise.”

Kaoru laughs, spinning his board and continuing on a straight line, ahead of Kojirou. Today’s weather is pleasant and he can’t wait for the end of the school year at the end of the week to go skating all day. It will come with more calligraphy practice, but at least he will have time for his other hobbies too. And if he can’t focus on anything at home, he can still go to Kojirou’s place and bother him all day.

“Then don’t cut your hair!” Kojirou shouts, catching up to him.

The lines on Kojirou’s face are weird, all upset and a bit worried, and that’s not an expression Kaoru is used to see when they’re talking about haircuts, of all things. Maybe when they’re doing their geography homework or when they’ve spent one hour practicing tricks and got more bruises than actual results, but not hair.

“What’s up with you?” Kaoru asks, slowing down. “It’s just my hair. It’s a good prank.”

“You’re going to look like a bird’s nest for at least three months, you okay with that?” Kojirou retorts.

“That’s not the worst thing in existence. And if I recall, you told me last year I should show off my piercings more, so having short hair would effectively do that.”

Kojirou groans and drags a hand across his face, almost looking defeated.

“Just style it in a way that makes your piercings visible, then,” Kojirou adds. “You… have nice hair.”

Kaoru blinks. Kojirou looks straight ahead, his posture stiff, determined not to turn his head in Kaoru’s direction.

“I have nice hair,” Kaoru repeats.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to cut my hair because it looks nice?”

“Yes.”

“That might be the most honest compliment you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up, I’m never complimenting you ever again!”

Kojirou speeds up, but not before Kaoru catches a glimpse of his reddening ears. The situation is starting to make even less sense, but seeing Kojirou so flustered over nothing is piquing Kaoru’s interest and his lips stretch in a wide grin. Kaoru joins Kojirou in their less-than-recommended skating speed.

“Okay, but you’re being weird!” Kaoru shouts over the sound of their wheels scratching against the ground. “Was that an offer to style my hair?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Kojirou mutters.

“You’re the one who suggested it, you can’t drop the topic!”

It’s almost comical to see two teenagers loudly arguing about a pointless subject while skateboarding and avoiding any obstacles they come across, as if being on a board is the same as walking. Passersby shoot them quizzical looks and a lot of adults are clearly not approving their noise level.

They end up skating all the way to the playground near the elementary school of the neighborhood, where a few kids are playing while their parents are watching over them. There is a skating park farther away, but people are already using it and Kaoru doesn’t like skating with people not part of their crew unless he’s looking for a fight. So they keep skating around, at a lower speed because colliding with children won’t exactly look good on either of them.

“Fine, keep being stubborn, you asshole,” Kaoru grumbles. “I’ll get another piercing.”

Kojirou finally jerks his head towards Kaoru, his expression a lot less constipated and more curious. “On such a short notice?”

“I’ll find a way. And even if I can’t get it done before my birthday, it will still be infuriating for my parents.”

Kaoru taps at his lower lip, not missing the way Kojirou’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.

“I wanted to get a lip ring, anyway,” he says.

There is something simply enthralling in a lip ring—the light catches on it, and people are immediately in admiration when they see it. Not everyone has the guts to get one, after all.

Kojirou slowly nods, tearing his gaze away from Kaoru’s face.

“If you want,” he says. “I don’t see any problem with that.”

“You’re so weird today.” Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“You’re the weird one, obsessed with piercings.”

“You just wish you could be as cool as me. Race you to my home!”

“Damn it Kaoru, stop cheating!”

Kaoru ignores Kojirou and launches himself at full speed to make his skateboard pivot and turn around, going back from the way they came. Kojirou is still yelling at him.

Kaoru doesn’t manage to get his lip pierced before his birthday, but he does sweep the left side of his hair behind his head and keep it in place with a hair clamp, leaving his earrings in plain sight. To the calligrapher’s credit, upon seeing who the supposed Sakurayashiki heir is, he makes only the vaguest noise of shock before getting into business. Kaoru smiles all throughout the visit.

17.

Kaoru’s seventeenth birthday remains one of the most special days of his life.

He got gifts, snacks and high-fives from various people whom he cares more or less about (the crew bought a cake but Kaoru only got a thin slice of it because they are greedy bastards), while Kojirou bought him a book on AI that was way too expensive even if he has a part-time job salary (Kaoru wrestled him to the ground when he recognized the book).

Adam takes them skating in a place they’ve never explored before.

It’s beautiful. Exciting, captivating and alluring, making them use all their senses to turn at the right time, to ride down a hill without losing control, and to feel the full path reverberated through their bodies in shock waves. Skateboarding is fun, but this is on another level entirely—it’s like sliding on the edge of a cliff, giving heart palpitations but also an intoxicating feeling of a game that needs to be beaten, whose ending is all worth these efforts.

The three of them are skating as if wings sprouted on their back, uncaring of the world outside of their little bubble of thrills. Kaoru watches in fascination as Adam seems to fly across the track, smooth in his skating and unconcerned with the bumpy road. The wind seems to be an inconsequential factor in his descent in the slope, moving along with it and never straying far from the road. It’s subjugating, it’s beautiful, it’s freedom.

“Watch where you’re skating, idiot!” Kojirou yells right next to him, startling Kaoru out of his reverie.

Kaoru crouches low and makes a sharp turn, avoiding a rock that would have sent him sprawling. He straightens and keeps going at a controlled pace, glaring at Kojirou.

“I know what I’m doing!” he grunts.

“You almost smacked that wall with your face,” Kojirou points out with a glare of his own. “Stop getting distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” Kaoru snaps back automatically.

But the look Kojirou is giving him is indescribable, so foreign on his face and even more so as it is directed at Kaoru. There is something brewing in the air and Kaoru doesn’t like it, doesn’t want a chasm opening between them because of a stupid argument, but he doesn’t even know what made Kojirou so irritable in the first place.

Adam is waiting for them at the end of the path, watching them arriving at a sullen pace with a raised eyebrow. Kaoru stops right in front of him and plasters a smile on his face, much more eager to talk about they’ve come here for.

“That’s an amazing place! Skating here is so fun, we can make a challenge out of a lot of things in this mountain.”

“Yes, the turns are different and there are many slopes that we need to be careful of,” Adam agrees, smiling. “I truly believe we can accomplish a lot, if we do it together. I want to create a special race here for skaters to push their limits.”

Adam looks at Kaoru, then at Kojirou—the glint of mischief and of confidence reflected in his eyes is the same as the one that pulls everyone in his orbit, making them give their all to become the best. It’s a look that Kaoru feels inextricably drawn to, enamored with the unbridled possibilities he imagines behind words that promise a paradise of freedom grander than anything they’ve ever known.

“You both have skills that will be useful to establish this race,” Adam continues. “People are following you and your skating is among the best. I said before that you guys were special, and I mean it.”

Kaoru does not preen, but the shivers that course through his body as Adam opens his heart are ones that feel pleasant, almost addictive. His grin splits his face in two.

“You can count on us, we’re going to create the best skating race in existence,” Kaoru assures. “Right, Kojirou?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Kojirou’s earnest tone is almost a relief—he’s clearly as excited about this race as them, and Kaoru would have been seriously worried if that wasn’t the case.

For the first time, the joyous expression on Adam’s face seems to be born out of sincerity plucked from the deepest corner of his heart. It suits him; it makes him look even more radiant than usual. Kaoru can’t look away.

“It’s decided, then,” Adam says. “The three of us, inaugurating the “S” race. Together.”

On that day, when Kaoru turned seventeen and his mind was filled with nothing but skateboarding, he thought that this is what belonging felt like.

18.

Sitting perfectly straight, legs tucked under him, Kaoru picks up a brush, dips it into ink he has carefully ground, presses it against the sheet of paper and splashes black trails all over it. The ink drips outside of the frame and stains the tatami floor of the study he hasn’t bothered to protect, littering everything in dark, angry marks that resemble the work of a child throwing a tantrum.

There is no word, no poem written on his paper. Half of the inkstick is grossly used up, its tip almost falling apart, like it wasn’t deemed worthy of being respected as one of the treasures of calligraphy. Kaoru is filling the paper with nothing but emptiness.

It’s not even rage moving his arm like a possessed demon. It would have been easier to deal with, if it was rage; handling it requires minimal effort, as he can mindlessly let his heart wreak havoc upon anything his hands come into contact with, or he can scream all the grievances he’s bottled up to clear the space occupied by unpleasant thoughts. Rage is physical, in and out, and Kaoru’s had years of practice getting rid of it.

But this is not rage that nudges him in the direction of destroying a perfectly good piece of paper with expensive ink and an even more expensive brush, tarnishing their quality and the noble use they are destined to. It’s cold and quiet resignation, trapping him in his own mind as he lets himself be selfish one last time and act out in childish anger.

Kaoru’s eighteenth birthday is spent alone, grieving his dream of ever cutting ties with family traditions. He hasn’t touched a skateboard in months and he hasn’t tinkered with his AI program in even longer. There was no point anyway—Kojirou has other things to focus on, and Adam left.

Kaoru was a fool to think he was strong and resolute enough to follow a path that is not written with the same deep ink as the one he’s used all his life.

20.

“You can legally drink now, congrats.”

“Great. I can sip my alcohol in the presence of guests and pretend I’m enjoying their company when all I want is getting drunk.”

“That’s not very professional, soon-to-be Sakurayashiki-sensei.”

“You’re one to talk, I bet you’re consuming way too many beers at those parties. Has gaining muscle mass made you lose brain cells?”

“Hey, you four-eyes, that was uncalled for!”

There is something moving behind Kojirou, a door opening and someone poking his head inside, and Kojirou turns his head to rattle off a few words in Italian before facing the camera again. Chin resting in his palm, Kaoru is watching with a raised eyebrow Kojirou’s roommate rummage through Kojirou’s dressing, before retreating back into the corridor.

“Does he make a habit to walk around your shared apartment half-naked?” Kaoru asks.

Kojirou laughs, waving his hand. “He was looking for a clean shirt, he forgot to do laundry yesterday. I told him he could borrow one of mine.”

“I’m surprised you still find shirts your size with the way your body’s taking the shape of a gorilla’s.”

“Just admit you’re jealous of my perfect muscles.”

Kojirou makes a show of flexing his bicep and Kaoru snorts.

“Yeah, I’m so jealous of that gorilla body that is unnecessarily big.” Kaoru deadpans.

“Believe it or not, it makes skating a lot more fun too,” Kojirou adds with a smile. “More power in the legs to do tricks.”

Kojirou looks...satisfied with the direction his life is taking. Kaoru is happy for him—studying abroad in culinary school and discovering a whole new culture seems to be the change of pace Kojirou needed. Sometimes Kaoru wishes he could also skate in the places full of pipes and curvy roads that Kojirou shows him, but he has to make do with the familiar tracks he’s skated on all his life.

“I upgraded Carla to calculate distances faster and to automatically record what she sees,” Kaoru says with a hint of smugness.

“Your AI having a girl’s name will never stop being weird,” Kojirou groans. “Why haven’t you chosen something normal like “Ghost Voice” or “Robotico”?”

“An AI is not a robot.” Kaoru pinches the bridge of his nose, already tired of having to repeat this for the umpteenth time. “Your Roomba is a robot. Carla recognizes many more things than the shape of your apartment.”

“Then program Carla to clean my apartment too.”

“Carla isn’t a vacuum cleaner, you dimwit!”

“That’s a big shame, maybe you should also create an AI cooking for you!”

Kaoru opens his mouth to reply something scathing, then snaps it shut. On the screen, Kojirou frowns.

“Don’t,” Kojirou warns.

“We have enough resources and data to program an AI that creates recipes from a list of ingredients,” Kaoru says anyway. “If we implement it into a robot, with the correct code and careful adjustments, then maybe it will be a decent cook.”

“If you start making a cook AI I don’t want to heart about it,” Kojirou mutters.

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Do you think I have enough hours in a day to focus on another project? Carla already requires my full attention.”

There is no need for him to say that calligraphy practice is what he does most of the day, if he’s not attending courses on speech or on business. It’s his life now; he chose to become the next Sakurayashiki calligrapher and he can’t back down now. Not that he’s ever fully considered leaving calligraphy behind for one of his better, more interesting hobbies—and this was exactly the problem. He never untied his hands from the string tethering him to a brush.

“You always want to work on something, so I’m expecting anything from you when you’re bored,” Kojirou says with a smirk.

“Maybe my next project will make gorillas like you shut up.”

Kaoru is twenty years old, discovering every day new aspects of himself in a professional environment, but one thing that never changes is the comfort of simply existing as himself when he talks to Kojirou.

22.

Kaoru spends a couple of years simmering in feelings he doesn’t acknowledge.

He isn’t someone who takes the time to reflect on his own feelings, negative or positive. They simply happen and he decides on whether to act on them—which has been true since he was a child, throwing tantrums when he didn’t like the task he was asked to do, kicking someone he didn’t agree with as a teenager, and deflecting when answering journalists’ questions that would force him to look deep into his heart. He lives in the moment and tries very hard not to burden himself with useless thoughts and regrets he can’t act upon.

He doesn’t dwell more than necessary on his choice to inherit the family calligraphy studio, because it will lead to nothing productive. He has perhaps harbored ill feelings towards calligraphy in the past, but they’re not so visceral he can’t execute the job he’s been trained for since he could hold a brush. Sometimes he thinks he could have rejected everything he’s been taught and disappoint his family for the rest of his life, but he immediately chases the thought away and decides that suffering through a successful career of calligrapher appears to be a small sacrifice compared to the headaches that would have come with removing himself from the Sakurayashiki studio.

He’s a full grown adult, by society’s standards. He shed his sweaters for yukatas and took off his piercings with reluctance, feeling like he ripped off a part of himself that’s been with him forever to fit into a mold he’s accepted as his new normal. Those were remnants of his old, carefree life that he abandoned, and it’d be preposterous to wish for things to have gone differently.

At least he has his AI—a new spin to a traditional art that is resistant to change. Carla is efficient, impressive and shocks people into admiration; Kaoru has upgraded and improved the code as many times as it required, making her compatible with every device in his possession so that she could accompany him in all his tasks. Skating became a game of precision, detail and finesse, aiming for perfection beyond what the average mind would think of. Calligraphy is enhanced and magnified, the digital aspect adding beauty in an art that is almost exclusively done by hand. Incorporating technology in his otherwise boring job undoubtedly made his days easier and more fun.

Kaoru isn’t dissatisfied. He can do better, but he could have done worse. However, if there is one thing that makes him antsy it’s the realization that he’s seeing less of Kojirou with each passing day, and he would have never thought it would leave a growing ache in his chest every time he thinks about it.

They have their own lives to live. It’s part of growing up—and he hasn’t completely lost his best friend yet.

25.

They have been wandering the streets of Paris for exactly ten minutes and Kaoru is already starting to regret his decision.

“It’s not that hard to read a map,” he seethes, trying to grab Kojirou’s phone.

Kojirou lifts the device higher and turns his back on Kaoru, stubbornly keeping his eyes riveted on the screen.

“I’ve got this, stop distracting me,” Kojirou says.

“The metro station is right there, let’s just change itinerary, stupid gorilla!”

“You want to take the metro when we could explore the city on foot?”

“The probability of getting shitted on by pigeons is way too high for my liking.”

This gets an undignified snort from Kojirou, more amused than mocking though Kaoru knows not to assume when every one of his words can be thrown back at his face later on.

They do end up taking the metro. They can go anywhere in Paris by bus or metro, making it extremely convenient to find their way but it gets overwhelming really fast—the metro lines seem to be full of people at all hours of the day, according to Kaoru’s extensive research before their trip, and they are nothing like the monorail they have back in Okinawa. Most passengers are focused on their phones, while others are taking a quick nap, which is not that different from what they’re used to.

“It can’t be worse than the Tokyo rail lines,” Kaoru mutters as they’re being shaken by the train doing a particularly sharp and violent turn.

“You’ve never been to Tokyo,” Kojirou replies with a raised eyebrow.

“I did last year for a meeting.”

“And that single trip was enough for you to get the full experience of the infamous rush of Tokyo’s Yamanote line?”

“I wasn’t saying I used the Yamanote line, imbecile. All trains are crowded. I think you wouldn’t have been able to squeeze in with your gorilla body.”

“At least I’m not at risk of going blind when someone knocks off my glasses by pushing me around in a crowd!”

“I always carry a second pair of glasses with me to avoid this kind of incident!”

It’s probably a good thing that this line of metro makes the same level of noise as a tractor revved up at full power, because their arguing is by no means quiet and people are starting to stare at them. But as soon as Kaoru glances at them, they avert their eyes and pretend they weren’t gawking. Typical.

March weather is terrible. Their trip lasts one week, and there is an equal number of sunny days and of cloudy days, with high probability of rain. It shouldn’t be normal to have a changing weather so unpredictable that it makes planning for their day a real pain in the ass. Kojirou is already complaining about the sun beginning to leave space for clouds at merely eleven in the morning, and Kaoru silently agrees with the sentiment.

The food is good, at least.

“Reminds me a bit of what restaurants looked like in Italy,” Kojirou says around a mouthful of beef. “Maybe I can draw inspiration from those recipes.”

“It’s not Italian cuisine,” Kaoru points out. “Unless you intend to make a mixed menu.”

“Of course not, but the flavors can be useful.”

Kojirou is examining his piece of vegetable like a scientist observing an experiment under a microscope, as if it could give him the secrets of its cooking time or the spices used for it. Kaoru lightly kicks him under the table, and Kojirou hisses.

“Stop being weird and eat your food.”

“Do you really have to hit me every time you want to make a point?”

“I’m not hitting that hard.”

The other way around is more likely to happen; Kaoru won’t ever admit it but he doubts that Kojirou feels more pain than Kaoru does when he hits him. Those muscles are ridiculous and entirely unnecessary, honestly.

They take pictures at the landmarks and get mad at the long lines and narrow their eyes at the price of various food and drinks they stumble upon. They’re not short on money, but drinking a cup of café au lait at twice the price of what they can find in regular coffee shops doesn’t leave a good taste in their mouth. Kojirou uses the knowledge from his time in Italy to make educated guesses on whether they’re paying something at an unreasonable price or not—he looks a bit too smug doing so but Kaoru lets it slide for once and allows him to play the role of the brain for this specific aspect of their trip. Kaoru can at least trust Kojirou’s judgment when money is concerned (even if his intuition can be skewed sometimes).

“It’s only because it’s your birthday trip that I’m putting up with your need to visit museums,” Kojirou says, waving at the multiple pamphlets they gathered after three days of sightseeing.

“Having some culture ingrained in your mind is nothing but beneficial for you,” Kaoru retorts evenly.

Kojirou rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in that conversation, and gets up from his bed of their hotel room. It’s past midnight but they’re still wide awake. Sharing one room would be awkward or embarrassing for a lot of people, but Kaoru has known Kojirou half his life and it would be ridiculous to feel self-conscious now, when they’ve seen each other in various states of undress and wakefulness. Perhaps the only complaint Kaoru will voice that he didn’t have when he was thirteen is that the older Kojirou gets, the louder his snoring is (as if the noise level grows with the wideness of his body).

“Hey, Kaoru.”

Kaoru looks up from tomorrow’s schedule displayed on his phone to come face to face with a giant box of pastries and Kojirou’s bright grin. Kojirou is holding the box one-handed, slightly bent forward, like he would a tray to present his dish to his most loyal customers.

“Happy birthday, four-eyes,” Kojirou says on a light tone.

“Must you call me names when you’re wishing me happy birthday?” Kaoru scoffs, but he eyes the pastries with unconcealed interest.

They went to a bakery in the afternoon for a snack, buying a croissant, a pain au chocolat and a pain aux raisins because they apparently lack self control when it comes to cheap baked goods—but for some reason Kaoru missed the moment Kojirou acquired this box of pastries.

“It’s past midnight,” Kaoru reminds him.

Kojirou shrugs. “We’re grown adults and on holiday, I don’t think it’s much of a problem.”

“There are six different pastries in this box.”

“Nobody’s saying we should eat all of them right now, moron. Save some of them for tomorrow.”

They end up eating three pasties, one half each, while arguing about the pros and cons of buying smaller portions of different sweets over getting an entire cake for a birthday, as well as the point of starting celebrating said birthday at midnight instead of simply waiting for morning. They’ve had these conversations before, at Kaoru’s or Kojirou’s birthday over the years, but it seems they never grow sick of repeating the same arguments even when the topic is stupid.

It’s like a well-oiled machine; pushing on one button always leads to the same result. Kaoru and Kojirou argue because this is what they’re used to do, a response at their lips even before they hear the end of the other’s sentence. What comes out of their mouths takes the shape of banter but Kaoru, even though he usually ignores it, notices how at ease he is in these moments.

Kojirou invited him for this trip even if he didn’t have to, and bought pastries to share at midnight like they’re holding a small party. His face is illuminated by his generosity and his big heart that finds a way to carve itself in his eyes.

“Let’s go skating tomorrow afternoon, it will be fun,” Kojirou suggests, mischief and plain desire to have fun glimmering in his gaze.

And Kaoru can’t say no.

They brought their boards, like they did when they traveled to Los Angeles. It might sound like a waste of space in their luggage, but nobody has a say in what they consider fun. Kaoru had to change Carla’s battery for her to fall under airport regulation, which was a hassle on short notice (Kojirou dropped a plane ticket on Kaoru’s lap a week before departure, and Kaoru shoved back money at him but it somehow ended back in his hands after a few minutes of jostling) but definitely worth it, because there’s no way he will skate with a lower quality board.

On March 27th, when Kaoru turns twenty-five years old, he almost resorts to a more physical solution to win petty squabbles against skaters in another country, a behavior he was prone to display when he was seventeen. But he’s an adult who is traveling for leisure and isn’t foolish enough to ruin the trip by punching someone when he can skate away and show off with a few tricks involving exact calculations and perfect angles, so this is what he does—after Kojirou, admittedly, forced him to remain calm, as though he was his impulse control when Kojirou is just as quick to rise to a challenge.

Maybe the difference is that Kojirou isn’t a cocky bastard like Kaoru is. Debatable, but Kaoru won’t deny that he loves the feeling of achieving something flashy or impressive. Getting into trouble for it is always worth it, especially if Kojirou is there to live it with him. It’s never the same without Kojirou—they might bicker and have more arguments then actual conversations, but Kojirou’s a warm presence enveloping him in a tight hug he can never quite shake off.

The trip to Paris isn’t half-bad, and it’s full of memories with the person he trusts the most.

26.

Kojirou is very, very still when Kaoru finally stops fighting with himself and leans his head on his shoulder, completely wasted after drinking too much wine at this event gathering too many important people to talk to and drink with. The taxi is silent and all he can hear is the screech of the wheels on the asphalt.

“Rest until we reach your home,” Kojirou says, something akin to laughter in his voice.

“Hm.”

Kaoru registers the words coming out of Kojirou’s mouth, and judges them acceptable before closing his eyes and letting himself be rocked by the car drive. In his drunken haze, when he called Kojirou to be picked up, he forgot Kojirou lent his car to his little brother; remembering such an essential detail would have saved them a lot of trouble, but Kojirou called a taxi and is now sitting with Kaoru in the backseat instead of going back to his own home. What an idiot.

Kojirou helps him into his apartment, grumbling as his elbows hit the walls and his feet get caught in stray shoes in the genkan that Kaoru eventually wanted to sort out and put away. They manage to get to the couch, and Kaoru collapses on it without grace and lets out a long groan, draping an arm over his eyes.

“I’m not drinking at this sort of event again,” he complains.

“That’s your fault for not limiting yourself,” Kojirou sounds unimpressed. “You always say you’ll stop drinking but you keep doing it.”

“Half a glass with each guest is customary. Beyond that is called showing off.”

“So you’re showing off, stupid four-eyes.”

“Shut up, gorilla. I have something to prove.”

Kojirou’s sigh is filled with such apparent exasperation that Kaoru immediately realizes how petty and ridiculous he just sounded.

“On the day of your birthday, to top it all,” Kojirou says. “Do you need babysitting?”

“You are not going to babysit me,” Kaoru snaps. “I’ll just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, and you’ll start bitching tomorrow morning because you forgot to drink water and take a shower.”

“I’m not that incompetent, you giant brainless idiot.”

Kojirou doesn’t deign responding to his insult and slides behind the kitchen counter. Kaoru drops his arm and watches him rummaging through the cabinets with too much confidence for someone who doesn’t live there. Kojirou comes back with a glass of water and two slices of bread that Kaoru usually eats in the morning when he’s too lazy to make breakfast.

“You probably didn’t eat much, since your robophile brain was wired on ingesting wine.”

“I just said I don’t need your help,” Kaoru mutters.

Kojirou ignores him and deposits the items on the coffee table. He then sits down next to Kaoru, causing Kaoru to shift further on his side of the couch because of his needlessly big body.

“Do you have to sit so close to me?” Kaoru grumbles, leaning forward to snatch the water and the bread, pretending that his world didn’t start spinning as he did so. He takes a few sips of the water.

“Your couch isn’t large enough.”

“It’s your body that’s not average size, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re suspiciously coherent for someone who says he’s drunk.”

Kaoru shrugs, foregoing manners as he speaks and munches on the bread at the same time. “My mind is clear, my thoughts aren’t confused in the least.”

“Right. What time is it?”

Kaoru looks at the time displayed on his TV box, sitting on the stand pushed against the opposite wall of where they’re sitting. He squints at the numbers, slightly blurry despite his glasses still resting on his nose. He has no idea what time it is.

“Eleven forty-seven,” Kaoru announces.

“No, it’s twelve forty-seven,” Kojirou snickers. “Finish that, take a shower and go to bed.”

“And you’re going to stay here and take up space in my apartment?”

“Well, if your event hadn’t run for so long, I would have spent some time with you anyway since it’s your birthday. So I might as well stay until you fall asleep.”

Several things get jumbled in his head at that moment, and Kaoru stares at Kojirou in disbelief. There’s something funny and warm happening in the pit of his stomach.

“You have nothing else to do,” Kaoru asks, or accuses—he doesn’t know how his voice comes across.

“Just go to sleep, Kaoru.”

Kojirou takes the empty glass from Kaoru’s hands and puts it on the table. He then tugs Kaoru upright, holding his wrists in a gentle and careful grip, as if Kaoru will break if he’s not handled in the most delicate manner. Half of the second slice of bread is lying abandoned in the plate, but Kaoru doesn’t particularly mind as he realizes, with strange clarity, that this isn’t unpleasant to be taken care of like this. Kojirou is smiling at him with his most genuine expression, and Kaoru has to look down to avoid his gaze, embarrassed and fulfilled and relieved all at once.

28.

It’s been a long time coming, Kaoru thinks as his fingers tangle in Kojirou’s hair and he brings him closer, always closer to him. The night is warm and too uncomfortable for a spring day, but the heat twisting his stomach is from something entirely separate. His lips meet Kojirou’s endlessly, like this act alone will make him absorb whatever Kojirou is willing to give to him for safekeeping. It’s the first time they’re kissing and yet it feels like they should have been doing this for years now, hiding under the shade of a tree or behind a rocky wall to share a private moment together, in a pocket of time that will burst only when they decide to drop all pretenses.

He knows it’s been a long time coming, because Kojirou is laughing against his lips, and when Kaoru cracks an eye open he sees how open and fond Kojirou’s face is. Kaoru immediately wants to close his eyes again and to stop noticing how luminous everything has become.

“We’re so dumb,” Kojirou says.

“You are stupid, for holding back all those years,” Kaoru retorts.

“Yeah, now it’s my fault for being considerate of your feelings towards me.”

“If you believed for one instant that I’d cut ties with you, then you’re more foolish than I thought you were.”

Kojirou still has hi arms wound around Kaoru’s back, and when he shrugs he presses Kaoru closer to himself. There is no anger and no regret in his eyes or his posture, as though nothing in the world would strip him of the bliss he’s currently being filled with. Kaoru finds himself drunk on the sight.

“I didn’t think that, no. I was just too scared of doing anything that will cause a shift in our relationship.”

The words sound strange, once Kaoru hears them spoken out loud. Kojirou is the one constant in his life that never changed, a shadow at his back and a light guiding him. They’ve both seen each other at their worst and their best, tending to bruises and squeezing a shoulder in comfort or riling each other up as part of their routine. Kojirou is an entity that exists at Karou’s side, full of familiarity and overflowing with kindness that doesn’t need to be voiced.

Kojirou is stupid for ever having hesitated or doubted the strength of their bond. But Kaoru is stupid, too, for simply taking what Kojirou was offering without ever giving back properly.

“We’re never having this conversation again,” Kaoru warns, tugging at Kojirou’s hair and pressing his forehead against his. “I trust you, Kojirou. I always have. This isn’t going to change.”

Kojirou is clinging to every one of his words, looking at Kaoru with the most enraptured expression he’s ever shown. Like this is a dream that cannot be real. Kaoru scowls.

“Don’t look so surprised, gorilla. That’s not a secret.”

“I’m not surprised, I’m simply enjoying that you’re saying it at all,” Kojirou laughs.

“You never say anything pleasant about me either.”

“You’re the one who barges into my restaurant and half the time demand dishes that aren’t even on the menu, and I still cook them! I’m being nice enough!”

“What else would you do in a restaurant, muscles for brain ape?”

“I don’t know, cook a dish I have the actual ingredients for?”

Kaoru’s lips are pulled upward despite everything, his heart as light as ever in Kojirou’s presence. The ease surrounding them remains the same, electric veil sealing them in their own brand of intimacy they wouldn’t trade for anything else.

It feels effortless, then, to switch to a less barbed attitude but still retaining playfulness. Kaoru brushes strands of hair out of Kojirou’s face, and Kojirou runs a thumb under Kaoru’s eye.

“It’s my birthday at the end of the week,” Kaoru whispers, locking eyes with Kojirou. “Take me somewhere nice.”

“Bossy as ever,” Kojirou sighs, though his voice sounds like contentment and bliss contained in a space called home.

Kaoru smiles.

#matchablossom #joecherry #matcha blossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #kaoru is like 'i know i have feelings but i'm making the decision of not seeing them'#i'm fascinated by his change from punk high schooler to stoic adult #i also have more thoughts about kaoru+calligraphy relationship that i'll eventually write down #when i have the time o(-(

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pickalilywrites · 3 years

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it’s my first fic since i started my job ❤ i hope you enjoy ^^

..........

You and Me at the End of the World

Falbi. SF8 AU.

11194 words.

Read on Ao3!

»»————- April 3, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes, a sigh escaping his lips. He feels an incredible weariness in his bones as if he had run a marathon yesterday even though he hasn’t really had PE in a month. He hasn’t had PE since his teacher had run off just like everyone else did when they heard that an asteroid was hurtling towards the earth and set to destroy life as everyone knew it. Everyone Falco knew just up and left their jobs and homes to pursue their dreams: his classmates dropped out of school to become idols or viral TikTokers, the mailman stopped delivering mail to Falco’s house and decided to fly to every place in the world he had always wanted to visit, and even the principal of Falco’s school had resigned but not before advising all of the students to drop out of school because it was useless now that they were all about to die.

Many people had taken the principal’s advice, but not Falco. He still goes to school on the weekdays and spends the weekend completing homework assignments that will never be graded. A few students had visited the school even after the principal had closed the school down, but they had stopped coming after they saw how many of their peers had dropped out and saw how even the teachers didn’t bother coming back.

It doesn’t bother Falco that he goes to school every morning and studies in an empty classroom all day or that he has to fish out study plans from the notebooks his teachers left behind just to give himself something to do. His parents have asked him why he bothers going to school when all of his classmates have pretty much given up, but Falco really doesn’t have an answer. If he had to say anything, it’s probably that he doesn’t have anything in particular that he wants to do.

Falco acknowledges that he’s never been incredibly ambitious like some of his classmates have been. His talents are unspectacular. He knows that he’s neither athletic nor smart. He’s always been average. He never studied too hard because he knew he’d never get the highest score in the class and he never exerted himself too much in PE because there was always someone stronger or faster than him. It isn’t something that ever bothered him, and he’s grown to accept that part of himself.

He doesn’t have any special interests either. Sure, Falco enjoys playing video games and playing sports like any kid his age, but he can’t see himself wasting the rest of his days on them. Some of his classmates even asked him to join them. Falco has had multiple offers: join a band as a bassist even though he’s never touched a bass guitar in his life, become a part of a dance crew despite his coordination being awful at best, start a video channel pulling off different stunts and tricks to gain a little bit of spotlight before they all died, among others. He declined all of them in the end, preferring to be alone, and even now Falco doesn’t regret his decision. He’s content being a normal kid living out the rest of his tedious life as monotonously as he always did.

His parents live quite normally too except for the fact that they quit their jobs like everybody else did when news of the asteroid came out. Rather than return to their jobs every morning, his parents go out on long walks together, often visiting places from their younger days. They usually leave long before Falco wakes, but his mother is always sure to leave out a freshly made breakfast for Falco and his older brother Colt.

Colt hasn’t made any drastic changes to his lifestyle, not like some other people his age. He, too, dropped out of school like many of his peers and Falco’s classmates, but he usually spends his time visiting internet cafés or playing baseball with his friends. The elder brother once curiously asked Falco why he bothered going to school and the younger just simply shrugged. Colt never bothered to ask again, and Falco was fine with that.

Falco rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth as he normally does. His hair looks like a mess. Since news of the upcoming apocalypse, people either care excessively about their appearance or they don’t care about it at all. Considering his circumstances, Falco should probably fall in the latter category, but he fixes his bed head all the same, patting down the cowlicks and running a comb through his hair to get rid of all the tangles.

After washing his face and getting dressed in his school uniform, Falco wanders into the kitchen where his breakfast is waiting for him. On the stove sits a pan with fluffy scrambled eggs mixed with little bits of crispy, dark spinach leaves, and sweet gruyère. Falco twists the knob on the stove with a sharp click before popping bread into the toaster. As he waits for the eggs to warm up, he fixes himself a glass of orange juice.

Falco ends up splitting the eggs in half, leaving a portion for Colt whenever he decides to roll out of bed. He sits at the kitchen island by himself, munching on some generously buttered toast in between bites of egg. It’s a much fancier breakfast than his mother used to make. Scrambled eggs were usually plain except for a dash of salt and pepper, but his mother has become more experimental with her cooking now that the end of the world is evident. It’s a good change, Falco thinks as the blend of savory bacon and salted eggs melt onto his tongue. It probably would have been nice if his mother had decided to be more adventurous with her cooking beforehand, but it’s not as if having regrets about this can change the past so Falco just eats the rest of his breakfast before dumping his plate in the sink and calling out to his brother that he’ll be heading to school. He doesn’t even wait for a response from Colt before heading out the door.

Ever since news of the asteroid, Falco has begun seeing very interesting people on his way to school. Some of them are familiar to him. Others he’s never seen before in his life. They’re not all strange, of course. Sometimes there are just kids running up and down the road kicking a soccer ball or couples holding hands as they take a morning stroll. But there are more than a few eccentrics on Falco’s way to school.

Lately, there have been people claiming to be superheroes. They have superpowers, they insist. Some will rush up to strangers on the street and show off their powers, but Falco has never seen any proof of their alleged superhuman talents.

Some people post videos online demonstrating their special gifts. Falco has seen a handful of them, mostly because his friend Zofia keeps sending them to him every few days when she finds them particularly funny. He finds them mildly intriguing, although he’s fairly certain that most (if not all) of the videos are either staged or edited to look real. He’s never been fully convinced by any of them.

On this particular walk to school, Falco passes by a person who claims to be able to create seismic shifts and another person who she can talk to animals. Neither person is particularly believable. Falco only gives a passing glance when the first person begins to demonstrate their powers by spinning in a circle and letting out a low groan that begins to grow into a loud shriek. The earth, Falco notices, does not shake. He’s even less interested when the animal girl starts shouting post-apocalyptic prophecies about how giant bugs will inherit the earth once the dust has settled on the earth after the asteroid impact.

Falco reaches the school gate and pulls it open himself because there isn’t a teacher there to welcome him like there used to be. He leaves it open to save trouble for anyone who ends up coming after him, although he highly doubts anyone will be joining him. He walks across the courtyard where some of his former schoolmates play soccer, looking at them briefly but not bothering to bid them good morning. When he gets to the building, he pulls open the door and steps inside. The sound of his shoes against the speckled tile echo across the empty hallways as he makes his way to his classroom.

As usual, it’s empty. Falco could probably sit anywhere he wants, but he ends up at his old desk, the second seat in the third row from the right. He sits down with a thud and lets his backpack fall off his shoulder. He pulls out his notebook and looks at today’s lesson that he copied from his homeroom teacher’s planner earlier last month: geometry, English, social studies, art, and science.

Falco dutifully completes his assignments for the day. He even double-checks his answers once he’s done. Maybe he’ll look over the answer key after school if he feels like it. He spends his break staring at the window at the kids playing ball in the field or playing pranks on each other in the quad. He doesn’t make any attempt to join them.

At 2:15, Falco packs his things. He puts away his pens and pencils neatly in his case, zips up his backpack, and slings his bag over his shoulder. As he walks to the door of the classroom, he thinks he imagines footsteps running down the hall. It makes him wonder if the impending apocalypse is making him go mad because he can’t imagine why anyone would be here when the world is going to end in a week. When he pulls open the door, he sees his friend Zofia about to reach for the door.

“Oh, good,” Zofia pants. She bends over, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ashy blonde locks are falling out of her ponytail. “I was afraid I missed you. You weren’t replying to any of my texts.”

“We’re not allowed to use our phones in school,” Falco says as he looks down at her.

Zofia looks up, an expression of mild disbelief on her face. “Geez, I can’t believe you’re still doing this.” She straightens up and sighs. “Our teachers probably appreciated what a goody-two-shoes you were back when they actually cared about their jobs, but I assure you that they don’t care at all now that the world is about to end.”

Falco rolls his eyes and walks past Zofia. He can hear her following him from the extra footsteps that accompany his. “What do you need? I thought you were busy trying to pet ‘every dog in the world’ or whatever before the asteroid strikes.”

Zofia’s arm links with Falco’s and she flashes a cheesy smile at him. “I realized it was impossible so I settled for petting ‘as many dogs as possible.’ I’m pretty satisfied with my work, so I’ve decided on pursuing something else.” She doesn’t immediately follow up with what it is she’s working on, and Falco knows she’s absolutely itching for him to ask.

“... What is it?” Falco asks.

“I’m glad you asked!” Zofia says, tugging him closer to her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and flips through it for a bit before finding what she wants to show Falco. On her screen is a long post on one of the message boards their classmates post on. “There’s this girl. She’s totally crazy.”

A glance at the phone screen confirms Zofia’s words. It’s a post that looks like it’s been circulating through message boards of different middle schools in their area. The original poster is someone named Gabi Braun, aged 14, and she attends Liberio Middle School across the city. Her post is a call for all people with superpowers to contact her so that they can save the world together.

Falco looks at Zofia and wrinkles his nose. “And you’re showing me this because …?”

“Because she’s absolutely crazy, but she’s interesting,” Zofia replies as she pockets her phone. She smiles at Falco. “Let’s go visit her.”

“What? No!” Falco says. He yanks his arm away from Zofia. “You said she was nuts! Why would we look for her?”

“Because the world is ending in a few days, so we might as well do something stupid,” Zofia replies. She links her arm around Falco’s again and pouts, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious? There’s a girl our age who thinks she can save the world if she gathers enough nutjobs who think they have superpowers.”

Falco isn’t curious at all. “I have homework,” he says to Zofia, which he knows is the wrong answer. Although Zofia hasn’t tried to convince Falco to stop going to school like the rest of their peers, she has been pretty vocal about how stupid she thinks Falco is for living the end of his life so mundanely.

“You also have a friend,” Zofia says. She begins to tug at him after every other word, trying to get him to follow her. “A friend you care about deeply and don’t want to see hurt if she ends up walking into some creep’s trap.”

“Then why are you going at all if you know it might be dangerous?” Falco mutters, but he knows Zofia’s right. His normal school life consists of him going straight home after classes and doing his homework, but it occasionally includes him reluctantly following Zofia sometimes to make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. He’s not too surprised when he ends up walking with Zofia to the meeting place the poster mentioned in their message.

Normally, Falco and Zofia would have taken the bus into the city, but it’s difficult to flag down a bus. The schedules are erratic at best and oftentimes buses don’t show up on schedule at all. It is the end of the world, after all.

It’s a curious thing, seeing the city at the end of the world. It’s a little bit like how the movies portray it, but not at all like the movies at the same time. Cars fill the street while drivers honk their horns and shout at each other to hurry up because they don’t want to spend their last days on earth stuck in traffic. The doors and windows of so many shops and buildings are smashed in and their contents gone. If people aren’t running around and screaming at each other on the street, they’re walking around like it’s a normal day save for the fact that they’re all looking for the next thing they want to do before they die.

“I’d suggest going to the mall downtown or something later, but it’s probably ransacked like everywhere else,” Zofia says with a wistful sigh.

“We could have just gone to the arcade in our town,” Falco mutters. The internet café and the arcade in their town is a mess because none of the gamers there bother to clean up their trash anymore, but at least there are still computers there and nobody has hauled off the arcade machines.

The two wander about the city and linger near the subway station entrance the message board poster had mentioned. There are people going up and down the stairs to the subways and some kids skating around and doing tricks on their skateboards. Adults pass by hurriedly with their phone stuck to one ear, rushing to make plans with someone on the other end because they have limited time left. It feels like Zofia and Falco are just standing frozen in time while the world rushes around them.

“Who do you think it is?” Zofia whispers in Falco’s ear.

Falco scans the scene, his eyes quickly flitting over anyone that didn’t look like a middle schooler. He doesn’t think it would be any of the skateboarders, so he glances over them too. Whoever this Gabi Braun is, she doesn’t have any interest in anything aside from saving the world with her impossible idea. She must be looking for people just like he and Zofia are looking for her.

Finally, his eyes land on a girl their age with a stern expression on her face. Her dark eyebrows are knitted together and she turns her head from side to side every few seconds as she scans the subway station, her brown hair whipping from side to side. She leans against the railing near the subway entrance, her arms folded across her chest. Somehow, she looks familiar, but Falco doesn’t know why.

“Her,” Falco says. He raises his hand and points to her only to realize it’s rude and quickly lets his hand fall to his side. He’s about to jerk his head over in the girl’s direction, but Zofia has already seen who he was pointing to and starts dragging him over.

“Excuse me,” Zofia says, catching the girl’s attention. The girl’s gaze is intense, her brown eyes scrutinizing the two of them, but Zofia doesn’t shrink away from the girl like Falco does. Instead, Zofia holds out a hand cordially and gives the girl a friendly smile. “You’re Gabi Braun, right? I’m Zofia, and this is my friend Falco. We saw your message reposted on our school forum and wanted to help you.”

The girl looks at them suspiciously but takes Zofia’s hand, shaking it reluctantly. “You really want to help?” Her eyes flit towards Falco, who looks down immediately. “Why do you want to help me?”

“Hmm,” Zofia hums and tilts her head to the side. “Because the end of the world isn’t something I’m particularly looking forward to.” She looks over at Falco and, with a grin, elbows him playfully in the ribs. “And this guy doesn’t have anything better to do, so I had him come along.”

“What were you doing before?” Gabi asks curiously.

Falco purses his lips. It’s not that he’s ashamed about how he’s spending his last days. Living plainly is a far better choice than some people have made. Apparently, some people decided that murder was something they needed to check off their bucket list. If you ask Falco, he thinks being a normal student is far better than being a last-minute murderer. Still, it’s not something he wants to say out loud to a stranger.

He kicks at the sidewalk and mumbles, “Just … homework and stuff.”

To his surprise, Gabi doesn’t ridicule him or ask why. She simply nods as if this is a perfectly normal way for someone to spend their last days. She doesn’t ask them any more questions, somehow satisfied with Falco’s answer. She’s already digging around in her back for something and pulls a laptop out of her bag.

“I’m still waiting for people to show up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody ends up showing,” Gabi says, gesturing for the two of them to sit beside her. Her tone doesn’t sound disappointed at all. In fact, she sounds rather like she expected this to happen.

Zofia sits on one side of Gabi, peering curiously over the brunette’s shoulder as she types away. Falco wants to sit beside Zofia. It would be more comfortable than sitting next to a stranger, but he would have difficulty seeing the screen. Reluctantly, he takes a seat next to Gabi.

“I’ve been looking at videos,” Gabi tells them. “People have been submitting them after seeing my message on the school forums.”

“Is there anyone particularly interesting to you?” Zofia asks.

“Not really,” Gabi says. She opens up a folder on her screen and a video file pops up. She presses Play. “Technology lets you edit anything into videos now. Some of these powers look super fake, but I still have to take a chance in case they do have powers and are interested in saving the world, right?”

The three watch the video play out. There’s a man on the screen claiming to have pyrokinesis. He’s wide-eyed and staring at the camera, holding out his hands with his palms to the ceiling. His explanation of his powers is similar to everyone else who has posted these kinds of videos on social media: he was just born with them and never bothered to reveal them until now for fear of being ostracized.

The flame doesn’t ignite right away. It’s a flicker — a spark, really — that grows into the smallest flame. The fire is hardly the size of the man’s fingertip, but he looks delighted just the same. The three children watching are not as thrilled.

“You really think this guy can save the world?” Zofia asks, raising her eyebrow.

“I don’t think this guy can save anyone,” Gabi replies. She’s so brutally honest that it would be funny if they weren’t discussing the fate of the world. “But I’m taking whatever help I can get at this point.”

They spend the rest of that afternoon looking through applications. Most of them are just internet trolls and Gabi has to roll her eyes more than once before closing out the applicant’s video. There are a few promising candidates Gabi moves to a separate folder but only when Falco and Zofia also agree that the person might be worth looking into. They go through written applications too, often filtering out any CVs that aren’t descriptive enough and sometimes those that are too descriptive and more fitted to some sci-fi character description than an actual person. Gabi calls a few numbers from the short list of people that the three all agreed on, but nobody ever picks up. Nobody shows up either. Still, Gabi doesn’t seem to be discouraged.

“Why are you doing this?” Falco asks at one point while they’re watching a video of a man who claims he can read people’s thoughts.

“Hm?” Gabi says, looking away from the video.

“Just … this whole thing,” Falco says and vaguely waves at the screen. “You know it too. This might not work, so why even bother trying to save the world?”

Gabi frowns and her eyebrows knit together like she doesn’t quite understand Falco’s question. “Well, what else would I be doing?”

Falco doesn’t respond because, well, he doesn’t have an answer. It’s not like he knows what to do with the rest of his life either. If Zofia hadn’t convinced him to come here, he’d just be at home with his head stuck in a textbook. Even if it’s useless, whatever Gabi is doing is far more interesting.

»»————- April 4, 2026 ————-««

Falco’s parents drop him off at the edge of the city. His mother had wanted to drop him off closer to his destination point, but Falco assured her that it wasn’t necessary. Besides, there were a lot of weirdos in the city, he reasoned, especially now that the apocalypse was coming. She reluctantly allowed him to be dropped off at the edge of the city, but not before giving him a can of pepper spray and a baseball bat in case he ran into anybody cruel enough to mug a middle schooler.

He doesn’t have any trouble meeting Gabi at the library they agreed to meet at. Zofia isn’t there with him after deciding this morning that saving the world wasn’t what she wanted to spend her last moments doing. She did, however, request that Falco send Gabi her best wishes, which Falco promised to pass along.

The two of them sit on the tenth floor of the library at a table by the window. The library isn’t exactly empty, but it’s not exactly filled up either. There are a few other visitors in the library with them. Some are seated at tables or couches, but others choose to sit between bookshelves, folding up their legs so that people can walk around if they need to get through. Hardly anyone pays attention to Falco and Gabi. They’re too busy flipping furiously through their books, eyes scanning the pages in seconds, as they try to finish their reading list before the world ends.

While Gabi watches more videos of superpowered applicants while Falco gathers books on powers that interest them: pyrokinesis, psychokinesis, time travel, to name a few. As he gathers research articles, he also stumbles across the section of the library dedicated to outer space and celestial bodies and decides to grab a few books on asteroids and meteors as well. There’s a slim chance that they might help, but Falco might as well try.

Gabi doesn’t talk much to Falco, too engrossed in her research to hold a conversation with him. He doesn’t talk much to her either. He does, on occasion, glance up at her to observe her progress, but she always seems to be staring at the screen with the same dissatisfied frown on her face. Every once in a while Gabi will lean over and ask Falco about whether or not a certain candidate looks promising, but his answer is almost always no and she goes back to staring at her screen.

At noon, the two take their lunch break. Gabi hadn’t brought anything. She tells Falco she was planning on just grabbing something from the snack machine near the elevators. The library remains one of the few places that was relatively untouched by thieves and vandals because not many people think “let’s rob the library” when they hear that the world is ending. Because Falco’s mother has a tendency to overpack his lunches, Falco decides to split his meal with Gabi. He figures that a sandwich is far better than whatever half-filled bag of chips Gabi would end up grabbing from the vending machine.

Falco munches on his katsu sandwich. It’s a favorite of his: two slices of pillowy milk bread with a thick cut of juicy pork cutlet covered in crispy bread crumbs wedged in between. A little butter and mustard give the sandwich a little bitterness that makes the tip of his tongue tingle and savory tonkatsu sauce drizzled over the thinly sliced cabbage underneath the katsu complete the simple but scrumptious sandwich.

He looks over to see if Gabi is enjoying her food as much as he is, but she’s scarfing it down so quickly that he isn’t sure she’s even taking the time to taste it. In between bites, she’s scrolling through her laptop with greasy fingers, frowning. A glance at the notebook beside her tells Falco that Gabi hasn’t found many promising candidates.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Falco asks. He’s halfway done with his lunch but Gabi is a bite away from finishing hers.

Gabi shrugs. She doesn’t look up as she answers. “I don’t know. It’s worth a shot, right?” She scrolls a bit more before she pauses, her fingers hovering above the touchpad. Her eyes flicker over to Falco so suddenly that he nearly drops his sandwich. Gabi narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her attention entirely on the boy. Her gaze is intense and she scoots to the edge of her seat, leaning in towards Falco. “You’re awfully skeptical about this plan for someone who’s trying to save the world.”

Falco gulps, trying not to shy away from her intense gaze. If he were a turtle, he’d be curled back in his shell right now. “I just want to make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he mumbles.

“Falco, do you not believe that people can have superpowers?” Gabi asks.

Falco is about to shake his head and say that that’s not the case but before he can Gabi settles back into her seat, arms folded across her chest, and announces, “I have a superpower.” She says it quite loudly, loudly enough for her voice to be heard across the entire floor, but people are too preoccupied with their reading to pay much attention to her although a few readers do shoot her a dirty look for being so loud.

Falco is not quite sure what he expected Gabi to say, but it wasn’t that. He sits there awkwardly, sandwich still half-finished in his hands. After a moment, he asks, “Er, what is it?”

Gabi pops the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and wipes her fingers on her jeans. After she chews and swallows, she leans towards Falco once more and gives him an impish grin. “I can read people’s minds. Telepathy,” she tells him. She doesn’t wait for him to ask for a demonstration.

Gabi puts one hand on Falco’s chest and stares deeply into his eyes. Falco’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. If by some miracle Gabi doesn’t hear it, Falco’s certain that she’ll be able to feel it underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t say anything about it, though, just continues to stare at him with those intense brown eyes of hers as she reads every single thought racing through his mind right now, like how he’s never been quite this close to anyone, how he’s never had his heart beat quite this fast, or how he thinks he might just die right here right now before the asteroid even hits.

Suddenly, Gabi’s face breaks into a smile and she pulls her hand away, Falco’s chest feeling achingly empty now. Gabi is laughing now, but Falco doesn’t have any idea why.

“God, I didn’t think you’d believe me,” she laughs. She’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult to make out what she’s saying. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, but you really did. You’re really gullible, aren’t you?”

Falco blinks, confused for a minute as he tries to process what just happened. “You … can’t read minds?” he says a beat too late.

“No, god, but you thought I did,” Gabi laughs.

“Then what’s your power?”

Gabi’s still giggling as she answers. “Something else. It’s not important. I’ll tell you if it ends up being useful.”

She’s laughing. She’s still laughing. It’s a laugh that comes from her stomach and has her clutching her sides. People are glaring because it’s disrupting the peace, and Falco feels like he should tell her to stop but he finds that he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even mind that she’s laughing at him. He just likes the sound of it.

»»————- April 5, 2026 ————-««

They sit with a pack of chocolate-covered biscuits shaped like little bamboo shoots between them. While Falco eats them one at a time, usually popping one in his mouth after he’s read a few pages of whatever book he’s reading, Gabi shovels them into her mouth by the handful without even looking. They’ve gone through their fifth pack of the little chocolate biscuits and it’s not even noon yet.

“Do you think you can do it?” Falco asks at some point.

“Save the world?” Gabi asks. She sucks her thumb, trying to get the chocolate off. Falco nods and Gabi says, “Well, who else if not me?”

“Literally anyone else,” Falco replies because, well, they’re only kids.

“Right, and just die young, dumb, and stupid like every other kid our age,” Gabi says with a roll of her eyes. “No thanks. I’d rather have died trying to do something. Besides, it’s not as if the adults are having that much luck either.”

Gabi slides her laptop over so that Falco can see the screen. On it, a video plays of a rocket shooting into space. The caption on the bottom reads “NASA Space Missile Failure.” Falco vaguely recalls hearing about the missile launch earlier this morning. The scientists were excited about it, hoping that the missile would collide with the oncoming asteroid and shatter it into smaller pieces that would burn up in the atmosphere, but it seems like they had been excited for nothing. Apparently, they had miscalculated the trajectory of the missile and it would miss the asteroid completely.

“That sucks,” Falco says finally. He’s not exactly sure how he feels about the news. He should probably feel disappointed, but he feels the same way he did a month ago when he heard the world was ending: perfectly indifferent.

Gabi shrugs. “Armin said it wouldn’t work. He said their calculations were off,” she says. She glances at Falco and adds, “Armin’s a genius. He’s my mentor’s husband.”

“A genius? Is that his superpower?” Falco asks. If Gabi knows someone who’s a literal genius, he doesn’t see why they’re doing all this work. Shouldn’t this genius, whoever he is, have all the answers?

Gabi thinks for a minute, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure. My mentor just says Armin’s a genius, but he’s way too humble to admit it,” Gabi finally answers. She frowns, leaning forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “He can’t help us though. He’s busy tending to his fish.”

Falco isn’t certain he’s heard her right. “His fish?” he repeats.

“Yeah. He’s a marine biologist. He likes to have some fish at home,” Gabi explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world to take care of your fish when the world is about to end. “He says it calms him down to see them swim around.”

Falco is still trying to wrap his head around all of this — Gabi and her willingness to save the world, the genius she just spoke of who just wants to take care of his fish, and the asteroid hurtling towards the earth. He doesn’t understand any of it. “So it’s okay for you, a kid, to try and save the world while a literal genius is taking care of fish at his house instead of trying to prevent the apocalypse?”

Gabi blinks. “Yes,” she replies as if there could be no other answer. “Because it’s what I want to do. And it’s what he wants to do. Why should we be doing anything different?”

“But shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, kid things?” Falco asks. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated talking to her. This isn’t what she should be doing at all. This isn’t what they should be doing. They should be enjoying the last few days they have together. They should be playing games at the arcade, or wandering around the empty mall, or eating snacks at the park, not … whatever this is.

“Maybe. Probably. But I don’t want to,” Gabi says. She turns the laptop back and starts typing away. “I don’t like the idea of doing something just because the world is ending. I’ve always done what I wanted, so I don’t have any regrets. This is the only thing I want to do now.”

It’s more than Falco can say. Like Gabi, he doesn’t have anything he wants to do, but then he’s never really ever wanted to do anything. All his life he’s been floating from place to place and participating in whatever was expected of kids his age: attending school, joining a sports team, learning an instrument. He didn’t care about any of it. He doesn’t have any regrets about it, but he does feel a sudden wave of admiration for Gabi. She’s saving the world now because she feels like it, but she could just as easily leave this task for another if something else strikes her fancy. Falco wants to know what it feels like to pursue something so impulsively.

He wants to want things. He wants to be with Gabi. He wants to help her save the world.

“Is there something you want to do before the world ends?” Gabi asks. She’s just asking to be polite. Her eyes are already glued to the screen of her laptop, her face turned away from him. “You don’t seem to be as into the whole ‘save the world’ thing as I am.”

Falco shrugs even though she’s not watching. “I don’t mind it.” Falco could leave it at that. He doesn’t have to say anything else, but he does. “There isn’t really else I want to do anyway,” he tells her, but it’s a lie.

He wants to hold her hand.

»»————- April 6, 2026 ————-««

Falco has never looked forward to anything as much as the researching sessions he has with Gabi. He’s never really looked forward to anything before, actually, and he’s not sure why being surrounded by books and looking at (mostly) fake superhero videos with Gabi appeals to him so much.

He likes a lot of things about the way Gabi works. She’s quiet and focused, eyebrows knitted as she decides whether or not to call another applicant that probably won’t pick up. She never gets discouraged even though things don’t look promising. They’ve probably called dozens of people and only a third have actually responded. Most of them turned out to be trolls, which isn’t surprising considering they were taking submissions from strangers on the internet, but Gabi still carries on. Maybe it’s Gabi’s passion and stubbornness that has drawn Falco to her, but it feels like it’s more than that too.

He feels, in a way, like Gabi completes him. Before he met her, he was wandering aimlessly. Now he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. Staying at home and studying seems unbearable when the option of being with Gabi exists.

Falco isn’t sure how Gabi feels about him. He doesn’t even know if she has any feelings towards him — if she likes him, hates him, or just feels completely indifferent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to mind spending her last few days on earth with him, and that makes him feel a little better about the world ending. Occasionally, he thinks about how Gabi probably wouldn’t notice if he stopped coming to help her. Well, she might notice, but Falco doesn’t think Gabi would change her routine. She’d just continue saving the world with or without his help.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Falco asks at one point. Gabi looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he elaborates “We hardly know each other and we’re just here … saving the world together.”

Gabi frowns, a thoughtful look on her face. “I don’t think it’s weird,” she says to Falco, and he feels his heart flutter in his chest. “A lot of weird stuff has happened because it’s the end of the world and we just happened to meet each other. If a total weirdo had showed up instead of you, then maybe I would be saving the world with them and we never would have met.” She doesn’t seem to mind the thought of working with a total weirdo in place of Falco.

Falco slumps in his seat, deflated, but Gabi doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m glad it was you though,” Gabi continues.

Falco lifts his head. “Really?” He scoots closer in his seat, curious. “Why?”

Gabi twirls her pen between her fingers, looking upward as she thinks. After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t know,” she answers. “It just feels better knowing I’m working with someone. It’s better than working alone, I guess. I might feel the same way even if it were someone else, but I also might not. Still, I’m glad it’s you.”

It doesn’t really mean anything. Like she said, it could have been some other kid who ended up answering Gabi’s post and helping her with her impossible quest to save the world. It could have been some other person sitting with her and looking up useless articles on asteroids and meteorites. It could have been someone else having this conversation with her. But, Falco reminds himself, it wasn’t. It’s him sitting beside her, eating snacks and discussing the end of the world. It probably isn’t fate that they met, but it kind of feels like it is.

»»————- April 7, 2026 ————-««

Tired of the same snacks from his pantry, Falco decides to try the café on the first-floor of the library for some new things to eat. He had asked Gabi what she wanted and she told him to just get her anything.

The first floor café is relatively well-stocked for the end of the world, but maybe it’s because bookworms prefer literature to satiate their appetites rather than food.

The display case, usually filled with dessert sandwiches with slices of strawberries and kiwi and slathered with whipped cream, is cleaned out, but the shelves behind the cash register are still stocked with different kinds of chips and candies. Falco scans the shelves, looking for his favorites: baked potato chips covered in rich butter, little rice crackers flavored with soy sauce and red pepper flakes, and chocolate cookies in the shape of tiny hamburgers.

Falco stares, for the longest time, at the other snacks and wonders what Gabi would like, if she has a preference for anything. Maybe he should have paid more attention when they were eating together to see if she ever seemed to gravitate to certain foods he brought or commented on any of the snacks they ate together, but he can’t recall anything. He feels stupid for not noticing, but he also doesn’t want to keep Gabi waiting and ends up grabbing whatever grabs his attention.

He arrives at their designated research table, huffing from the flights of stairs he had to climb. Falco deposits the snacks rather ungracefully in front of Gabi, letting them fall out of his hands and onto the table. Gabi looks up from the noise, her eyebrows raised, but she smiles when she sees that it’s him and Falco’s heart flutters almost painfully in his chest.

“These are yours,” Falco says, shoving Gabi’s share of the snacks towards her.

“Thanks.” Gabi picks up a snack with a gray cartoon cat on the wrapper. It’s a puffed corn stick. Pizza-flavored, the wrapper says. She opens it with a grin. “How did you know these were my favorite?” she asks.

“I … I don’t know,” Falco says. “Must have been a lucky guess.”

But it doesn’t feel like it.

It feels like he knew, from the beginning, what she had wanted. It’s like he had let his instincts take over when he had randomly chosen snacks for Gabi and somehow selected her favorite ones. It was as easy as picking food for someone he had known for his whole life, which is impossible because he hadn’t even known Gabi a week ago. Maybe, then, he had known Gabi in a past life and that’s how he happened to pick her favorites. Or maybe they really are fated to be together and knowing things like her favorite food are just second nature to him. The latter two explanations are almost impossible and yet so much more likely than the first explanation. He doesn’t know how to explain it though, not without seeming crazy, so he doesn’t say anything.

»»————- April 8, 2026 ————-««

Tomorrow is the end of the world and they are no closer to saving everyone from the asteroid hurtling towards the earth than they were yesterday. In fact, they are no closer to saving the world than they were a week ago when this effort began or even a month ago when they had first found out the world was going to be destroyed. Their attempt to prevent the world’s end was futile and their effort today will probably be equally useless. Still, here they are on the tenth floor of the library doing the same thing they did yesterday.

The sun is about to set and it’s almost time for them to head home. Falco wonders if they’ll be here tomorrow spending their last moments at the library when the world ends or if Gabi will call it quits and suggest they spend their last day without each other. He’s too afraid to ask.

They pack up silently, Gabi slipping her notebooks and laptop into her bag as Falco arranges the books into neat stacks on the slim chance that they’ll return tomorrow. Falco notices that Gabi packs the same way she always does — quickly, dumping everything into her backpack as if she doesn’t care if they get damaged — and it stings a little bit that she doesn’t pack a little slower this time like he does just so that he can spend a few seconds more with her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so disappointed because it’s obvious she doesn’t care for him more than she would care for a coworker or a classmate she was randomly paired with to complete an assignment.

Falco is silently pining when Gabi speaks, startling him.

“So, the world ends tomorrow,” she says easily. It’s like she’s talking about the weather. “Are you satisfied with how you spent your last days? No regrets?”

They’re two questions that seem related, but Falco’s answers for them are very different.

He is satisfied with how he spent his last days. The past week perhaps isn’t as spectacular by other people’s standards. Falco didn’t go bungee jumping or skydiving or deepsea divings like some of his peers. Some people would argue that the way he spent his last few days was as boring as the way he spent the past month, although Falco would argue that it was infinitely better because he had Gabi. He’s convinced that however he chose to spend his last days, as long as they were with Gabi, he would be happy. He could even watch the grass grow with Gabi and he’d be completely content. So, yes, he’s completely satisfied with how he spent his last few days, but he has many regrets.

He regrets not meeting Gabi earlier. He regrets not being able to spend more than a week with her. He regrets not doing things with her that kids their age should be doing: playing soccer in the field, catching butterflies by the river and letting them go, and hanging out at the arcade and beating their high scores. But most of all, he regrets feeling this way about Gabi and not being able to tell her.

Falco doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he asks, “Do you?”

“No,” Gabi replies with a smile and it makes Falco feel a little better about the ache in his chest.

»»————- April 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco doesn’t expect Gabi to call him the next day. Before bidding each other goodbye yesterday, Gabi suggested they not see each other again.

“You should spend the day with your family or something,” Gabi said to him. “Your parents probably want to spend their last day with their kids. I’ll just do this by myself. And, you know, thanks for everything.”

He had wanted to tell her that it was fine if they spent their last day together. He spent his whole life with his parents. He should at least spend one more day with Gabi if this is his last one, but he bit his tongue and said goodbye to her with the fakest smile before turning on his heel and walking as quickly as he could to where his mom would pick him up.

Falco was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when Gabi called and told him to meet him at the bottom of the hill near the outskirts of his town. She said her mentor was coming back today and that they could visit her to see if there was still a possibility of saving the world. Falco didn’t even question her or ask if they really have any hope after their days of research lead to nothing. He just leapt out of bed, told his parents he would be out and that he loved them, and biked up to the hills where Gabi asked to meet him.

When he gets there, Gabi is already waiting for him, bundled in a navy peacoat and a gray scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her face breaks out in a grin when she sees him and she waves a gloved hand to greet him.

“How did you get here so fast?” Falco huffs once he finally reaches her. The hill gets too steep for him to bike, so he gets off his bicycle and walks with Gabi beside him.

“My uncle Reiner drove me here,” Gabi replies, shoving her hands in her pockets. She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches with a smile. “He says he wanted to spend a little more time with his favorite niece before she becomes famous for saving the world.”

“You really think we’re gonna do it?” Falco asks.

Gabi shrugs. “I think if my mentor thinks so, we probably have a good chance.”

They arrive at the mentor’s house at the top of the hill. It’s small, more like a tiny cabin than an actual house. When Gabi knocks, they’re greeted by a blond man with big blue eyes. The man smiles when he sees Gabi, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hello, Gabi. I guess Mikasa told you she’d be coming back today,” the man says. He looks over Falco. “Hello. You must be Gabi’s friend Falco. I’m Armin.” The man offers a hand for Falco to shake.

Falco nods, wondering why the man’s name sounds so familiar. It’s only when he’s shaken the man’s hand that he remembers Gabi had mentioned Armin a few days ago when they were researching in the library. He’s the genius that likes to spend his days taking care of fish.

Falco follows Gabi when the man invites them into the cabin. Falco’s a little taken aback at how simple the interior is. The living room is small and the kitchen is smaller with only the essentials. There isn’t even a microwave.

“Sit down,” Armin says, gesturing at the dining table in the middle of the room. He heads towards the kitchen cabinets where he takes out three mugs. “I’ll make tea for us while we wait for Mikasa.”

“Can we see your fish later, Armin?” Gabi asks. She’s already settled down in a chair, kicking her legs back and forth. It’s clear that she feels at home here. When she notices that Falco hasn’t taken a seat yet, she gestures for him to sit down at the seat closest to her. To Armin, she continues, “I was telling Falco about you and he was curious about what a genius would be up to at the end of the world if he wasn’t trying to prevent the apocalypse.”

Armin chuckles. “Do you like fish, Falco?” he asks. He smiles when Falco makes a surprised noise, an answer stuck in his throat. “Sure, we can take a look a little later.”

Over apple tarts and tea, Gabi and Armin fill Falco in on Mikasa. She’s Armin’s wife, Gabi’s mentor, and the key to saving the world. Mikasa has a superpower, Gabi explains, that allows her to identify other people with superpowers and what those powers are. She helps people utilize their powers, but she took off for a month when the end of the world was announced to gather people with powers that might prevent the asteroid from crashing into the earth.

“Did Mikasa tell you if she met any promising people?” Gabi asks. She’s licked her plate clean and cinnamon sticks to her lips.

Armin shakes his head, a resigned smile on his face. “Unfortunately, no. She said all the candidates she met didn’t have any sort of useful power, but who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone on the way here that can stop the meteor.”

“Ah, it’s a meteor now?” Falco asks, sitting up in his seat.

“It’s been one for a while,” Armin says. He glances out the window for a second. It’s not blue like it was when Falco woke up this morning. It’s orange now., not like a sunrise but more like someone has set the sky on fire. “We should be able to see it soon. The estimated time of impact is soon if I recall correctly. Hopefully, we get to see Mikasa soon.” His eyebrows are knitted together in concern, but Gabi looks just as unbothered as ever.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Gabi says. She collects her empty plate as well as Falco and Armin’s before depositing them in the sink. It’s an awfully normal thing to do considering the fact that the dirty dishes won’t matter when the earth is destroyed. She lets them soak in the sink and then turns to Armin. “Can we go see your fish now? Falco hasn’t seen them yet.”

“Sure,” Armin says with a smile. He gets up from the table and gestures for Falco to follow him. “Let’s go see the fish.”

Armin leads the children to a side room. Inside is a large glass fish tank with so many plants, shells, and rocks that Falco doesn’t see the fish at first. He and Gabi crouch beside the tank, their faces not quite touching the glass. Falco can see neon fish the size of his pinky darting back and forth between plants. He spots a miniature catfish the size of his thumb hiding behind a rock while a school of ten or so black and white striped fish zips around the 50-gallon tank. There are many more fish that Falco spots, lots of which he doesn’t know the name of but Armin patiently points them all out and tells Falco both the scientific and the common names of each fish and their habits. It’s clear that he loves it, taking care of the fish and looking after them, and Falco thinks he understands a little bit why Armin has chosen to spend the rest of the world like this. Occasionally, Gabi pipes in with whatever she remembers about each fish, usually their behavioral patterns she’s noticed when she’s visited, and Armin always grins whenever she speaks.

The three don’t notice when Mikasa arrives. They’re too busy staring at the fish swimming back and forth in the tank without a care in the world. The fish can’t grasp the fact that the world is ending. After all, their world only consists of the four glass walls that encase them and anything outside doesn’t concern them. It’s only when the door to the room opens and Mikasa steps in that the three realize that she’s returned. The fish, however, just keep swimming.

“That’s a nice way to spend the end of the world,” Mikasa comments. She has a tired smile on her face. She wears a soft cream-colored turtleneck, a long black coat hanging over her arm. “I see Gabi has joined us. As has her friend.” The woman nods at Falco.

“H-hello,” Falco stammers. He’s not sure what he was expecting Mikasa to look like. Perhaps like a woman with all the answers, someone who looked like she had seen the world, but she doesn’t. She just looks like any other woman, maybe a little more tired than other women, but still just a normal person. She doesn’t look like she has an amazing superpower, but then again neither does Gabi nor any of the potential candidates that claimed to have powers. “I’m Falco.”

“Ah, yes,” Mikasa says with a nod. “Gabi mentioned you before. I’m Mikasa, her mentor.” She drapes her coat over a nearby chair and walks over to join the three of them beside the fish tank.

“Did you find anyone?” Gabi asks. She looks out towards the living room, craning her neck to see if Mikasa had brought someone they didn’t notice.

“No, nobody that could save the world, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mikasa sighs, shoulder slumped. “Although, I did run into a guy who was convinced that the only way to save the world was to destroy it. I got away from him as quickly as possible.”

“Probably a smart decision,” Armin says with a nod, and Mikasa smiles in reply.

“Well, shall we go watch the end of the world together?” Mikasa asks, putting an arm around Gabi. She looks around at the others. “I heard it was going to be quite spectacular. Like a meteor show in the middle of the day.” Her eyes settle on Falco and her smile begins to falter. Her brows knit together and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something.

Armin notices the change in her demeanor and looks back and forth between Falco and Mikasa. “What’s wrong? Are you …?” It seems like something clicks in his head and he quickly turns to Falco. With a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Armin asks quickly, “Falco, do you have a power you haven’t told us about?”

The question startles Falco and he jerks away from Armin’s hand in surprise. “I … I don’t know,” he says, stumbling over his words. He’s never felt like he had any kind of superpower. He’s never shown any sign of being special. He’s always just been … normal.

“You … do you not know?” Mikasa asks, her eyebrows raised. She looks at Gabi. “Falco can save the world.”

It’s too much for Falco to take in when the world is about to end so soon. He has too many questions like: What power is he supposed to have? How come he didn’t know about it before? Is there still time to save everyone or is it too late? He opens his mouth to ask, not knowing which one will come out of his mouth first, when he feels a comforting hand on his elbow. Falco looks over to see Gabi standing beside him, somehow calm despite this revelation.

“What’s his power, Mikasa?”

“He can travel back in time,” Mikasa says, still staring at Falco with her intense gaze. “Under the event of an unexpected death like, say, getting hit by an asteroid, he can go back in time and prevent it from happening. But only if he remembers that it will happen in the first place.” Her eyes flicker towards Gabi for some reason.

“What … what does that mean ‘only if I remember’?” Falco asks Gabi.

Gabi’s biting down on her lip, expression contemplative. Finally, she tells Falco, “My power is that I’m unforgettable. If you reset your time after the meteor hits, usually you won't remember what happened, but you will if I use my power. You’d be able to remember me and everything we’ve done together. If you go back in time, maybe you can find a way to save the world because you’ll know what to expect.”

“Then … then that’s good news!” He doesn’t know why everyone around him isn’t jumping up and down in excitement right now. They’ve found a way to save the world. If not this time, then the next time or the time after that. “Isn’t this good news?”

“I mean, it is,” Gabi says. She doesn’t sound as confident as she usually does. Instead, she’s hesitant, almost shy. Falco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabi shy before. She’s looking at the floor now, kicking at the hardwood floor with her sock-clad feet. “It’s just that … I have to make you fall in love with me to make you remember me.”

Falco’s mouth falls open and no words come out.

“It’s not like it’s hard,” Gabi says almost hurriedly, more because she’s embarrassed than in a rush to save the world. She’s shed off her embarrassment and assumed her usual confident demeanor. “I’m very lovable, you know. It’s just …” Her voice trails off again.

“She has to seal it with a kiss,” Mikasa finishes, and Falco can see why Gabi was so embarrassed. His cheeks redden just from the thought of kissing Gabi. Mikasa adds rather apologetically, “It’s just the way it works, her power. She needs to kiss you.”

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” Gabi adds. She’s still avoiding his gaze, her eyes on the floor. “I’m fine if you’d rather not. You might just be stuck in the loop all by yourself. It’d be a little less painful since you won’t remember each time but still -”

“I’m okay with it,” Falco says.

Gabi looks up, surprised. “You are?”

“Yeah,” Falco says. “I’m … I’m fine with it. Let’s save the world. Together. That’s what our entire plan was, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Gabi repeats and she smiles. It’s different from how she’s smiled at him before. It’s a little bit bashful, a little bit excited. It looks nice on her, Falco thinks, and he’s so distracted that he’s surprised when he realizes she’s holding his hand.

Mikasa tugs at the elbow of Armin’s cardigan and the blond man nods. Taking Mikasa’s hand, he turns to the kids and says, “We’ll be out there just to give you two some privacy. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon.”

The door shuts softly behind the two adults. Falco doesn’t know if they wait in the living room or if they’ve gone outside to admire the sky. From the window, Falco can see that the sky has changed from a burnt orange to an explosion of different colors: shades of violet, pink, blue, and yellow all together almost like a watercolor painting. There are streaks of white in the sky. It’s like a meteor shower in the middle of the day just as Mikasa had said.

When he turns to Gabi, she’s looking at him with her hand still holding his. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, but she smiles when she sees he’s looking at her.

“Are you still up for it?” Gabi asks.

“Y-yeah,” Falco says, his voice cracking. He feels his face flush, but he likes the sound of Gabi’s giggle even if he’s the one she’s laughing at. He licks his lips nervously and leans in just the tiniest bit. “Is … is it okay if I kiss you?”

Gabi bites her lip and nods. She leans in too and Falco takes it as his cue to close his eyes and close the gap.

He doesn’t know what to expect from this kiss. Maybe warm lips pressing against his while his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Maybe Gabi’s hands gripping his arms while his hands hover awkwardly around his waist. Maybe the world ending and, when his eyes open, Falco waking to thoughts of Gabi and how to find her next. But none of this happens. Instead, Gabi puts her hands on his shoulder and pushes him gently but firmly away.

“I can’t do it,” Gabi says.

“Wha-?”

“I can’t do it,” Gabi repeats with a shake of her head. She looks upset, but Falco doesn’t know why. He wonders what it is he did to offend her. Maybe she doesn’t want to kiss him. Maybe she finds him repulsive and doesn’t want to kiss him even if it means saving the world. Falco thinks this would be the case if Gabi didn’t look so apologetic. “I can’t kiss you. Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Falco asks, panicked. He takes a glance at the window. Outside, the meteors in the sky look brighter. It’s like a million stars are falling to the earth. It’s only a matter of time before the world ends. He doesn’t know why Gabi is doing this.

“I don’t want to kiss you just to save the world and I don’t want you to kiss me for the same reason,” Gabi says, taking a step away from him. She shakes her head, tears pricking her eyes. “I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you have some responsibility to save the earth so … so find me again and kiss me. Find me again and tell me you like me and kiss me hard. And then … and then we can save the world.”

But he wants to kiss her now. He wants to kiss her because he likes her. He wants to kiss her because the world is ending. He wants to kiss her even if the world isn’t ending. He wants to tell her that, but he doesn’t have the words.

Ever since Mikasa had revealed Falco’s power, everything has suddenly made sense to him. Falco understands now why his life felt so empty before he met Gabi and why he never felt the desire to do anything. He knows why he was so drawn to her when they first met that day in the city and why he felt like she completed him. It’s because they were meant to meet each other, meant to be together, meant to save the world.

Falco wants to kiss her so badly. He wants to hold Gabi’s face in his hands and put his lips on hers and kiss her until the world ends and when he wakes up again he’ll find her and kiss her again and again and again. He wants to tell her he likes her now and that he’ll like her again. He wants to tell her that he’d like her even if the world weren’t about to end, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get to tell her anything.

A bright light flashes from the window. All Falco sees is Gabi and then white, and then nothing.

»»————- March 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes up and rolls out of bed. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom and brushes out his hair before blearily heading down the stairs where his mom is making breakfast. His father hasn’t left for work yet, he notices, which is rather strange. His mother hasn’t finished making breakfast yet and his brother isn’t dressed for school. He stares at them, wondering why they’re acting so odd. It takes them a moment to realize he’s there.

“The world is ending next month,” his mother tells him. She points at the TV screen that Falco’s father is staring at. On it flashes a picture of an asteroid hurtling towards the earth. The little banner underneath the picture says it’s far too big to burn up in the atmosphere. Scientists have no hope of human survival.

“If I knew, I would have slept in,” Colt mumbles.

His family looks shocked by the news, but Falco doesn’t feel anything. He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and starts to head out the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Colt asks him.

Falco pauses by the door. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. He’s not sure what to do now that the world is ending. There isn’t anything in particular that he wants to do. “I’ll go to school, I guess.”

He leaves after assuring his parents that it’s fine, that he really doesn’t mind going to school because he isn’t sure what else to do. He stops by his mailbox and looks up at the sky. It’s clear and blue, no asteroid in sight.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it. It sounds like a sigh.

#falbi #snk #sf8 au #falco grice #gabi braun

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inigofication · 3 years

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Hey obvi if they're still a new character and can't share much thats understandable, but i gotta hear more about your flunked spacie cuz that concept is INSANE

HAHA I’M GLAD UR INTERESTED!! My friend who’s DMing wanted to do a somewhat sci-fi campaign so we went ALL OUT together :) I did NOT mean to write as much as I did, so apologies in advance for how much this is LOL

Backstory-current progression under the cut because it’s a LOT!

Basically, as you guys saw from my post, society progressed from super high tech and science (the time that Soleil is from) into your fantasy/medieval time as things went on; this is partially due to the fact that science/research had delved into body/gene modifications which is how a lot of people gradually could give themselves features that us as players associate w/ tieflings and the like!

Soleil never delved into that much, her only modifications being 1) star freckles and 2) her white hair (stays that way so she doesn’t have to re-dye it, etc); the “part-android” also comes in because she has a sort of upgraded memory storage? Basically she can access places with USBs or discs etc etc and store the contents directly into her mind! This kind of modification was super common during her time though, so, not crazy for her.

She also has (had? 👀) an older brother named Lucas!

(cw // slight injury)

(first pic just a doodle of them when they were younger, second pic is the most recent memory Soleil has of him; his hair is normally dark brown but one time he dyed it white to match her)

With Lucas, she and him went to the same space piloting academy, as did their father. However, Lucas excelled and while Soleil is plenty good of a pilot, she lacked the team communication/general teamwork skills needed of her (because she just didn’t make friends all that well), which put her at 12th in her class, just shy of the top 10 that could graduate. When she realized she likely wouldn’t move up the ranks, she purposely flunked out because doing the rest felt pointless to her. She was about 18 at this time.

Around the time she flunked out, her brother was still in school and their dad was a bit of a mess- their mother had been out of the picture since Soleil was 3 but she was still giving their dad issues/stress. So, Soleil’s uncle came over both to help her dad and make him a proposal: Soleil could pilot the St. Marianne, part of a different program. Her dad, albeit reluctantly, agreed, leading Soleil into the new course, where she worked for about 4 years before the mission that would change everything.

This brings us to the start of the campaign! Soleil has very little memory of what happened at this point. All she remembers is the ship flying smoothly, casual conversation, and then a bright flash of white light- next thing you know she’s being woken up from the ships cryo-chamber by a tiefling and a half-orc! Talk about a wake up call LOL, also, the ship she was piloting is torn in half and she has NO CLUE what happened.

So, as the campaign progresses, she’s been traveling and taking up work with her new companions and simultaneously 1) adjusting to the new lifestyle and 2) finding out clues about what happened in her past!

So far, she’s been able to recover footage of her brother from a military base that she never saw because it was after her disappearance/“death!” He’s dating someone and they both got into trouble but Soleil hasn’t found out what yet! There were also robots/androids at the military base that recognized Soleil (aka Private Mercier) when she arrived, even 3,000 years later! So her information is still within the databases.

Also, it’s worth mentioning that after Soleil was taken out of the cryo chamber, she had a new mark on her back, that of a purple butterfly that was smooth to the touch, imbedded in her skin but a different texture. A few months ago, as a psiioniic rogue, Soleil unlocked the ability to basically hive mind with her peers, and a flutter of purple butterflies always show up when she uses it. She sees butterflies in nearly everything she does and both her and I still have no idea what it means!

The butterfly on her back recently split into two butterflies, the purple one and now a white one as well. Somehow, overnight, Soleil was granted the ability to see into people’s memories/dreams when she sleeps- in this “dream scape” as I usually call it, she is less of a corporeal form and is made up of a cluster of butterflies. Even more recently, Soleil has started seeing these “dream butterflies” in the normal day; she went to have breakfast with her friends and everyone in the tavern had butterflies around their heads except her friends, who’s memories she had seen prior- this leads me to believe that this effect happens when Soleil sees someone who’s memories she hasn’t seen yet.

So far, Soleil has seen into the memories of her two friends, a friend’s father, Soleil’s father and mother, her uncle, a little bit within a new group of companions they have, an Elven woman who Soleil doesn’t know but is trying to, and more, including a RED DRAGON who we have to meet next session 🙃

She tried to go into Lucas’ memories, but his were harshly blocked off and she wasn’t strong enough to get in.

SO YEAH!! She definitely has a LOTTT to work with! Her current biggest concerns are as such:

Save our friend’s sister, who’s being coveted by a green dragon

Find out as much as she can about her parents, her brother, her uncle, and what exactly happened to the St. Marianne

WHATEVER THE BUTTERFLIES MEAN?? WHERE THEY CAME FROM?? and finding the Elven woman in her dream who spoke to Soleil, but Soleil doesn’t know her

Again, sorry this is so much LMFAO, I’m having so much fun with her and I’m glad to indulge you guys on it :) if anyone has any other questions or curiosities feel free to ask! 💜

#SORRY ANON THIS IS SUCH A LONG ANSWER #SHE’S MY EVERYTHING #oc: soleil #d&d character #d&d campaign #trin talks #anon #long post

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nellie-elizabeth · 4 years

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okay, bear with me because this is kind of an unhinged ramble, but one of the things that’s sort of been driving me bonkers in the back of my head is that the finale was terrible... but that I honestly think it would have been quite easy to change just a few little things to make it... well, maybe not good, but certainly less rage-inducing. I don’t think any version of the story as presented to us would have left me thrilled by this ending, but I can actually think of a few very easy changes that would have had me walking away maybe a little irked, certainly disappointed in what we didn’t get to see, but ultimately more at peace.

Let’s pretend this is a world in which they couldn’t/didn’t want to have Misha in the finale, couldn’t get a big ol’ group of returning stars... and we basically had to work with a bare-bones structure like what we saw in the finale. So this isn’t pie-in-the-sky, what I would do if I could have what I wanted... This is down to earth, pragmatic, simple things they could have done to make it better, if we’re constrained to the basic shell we were provided.

Ready?

1) This is the big one: flip around the "Sam’s domestic life with his son” montage so that it starts BEFORE the vampire case and Dean’s death.

So basically, the montage at the beginning, we see the boys living normally in the bunker. We get the pie scene (which I’ll touch on in a second). But then, instead of segueing straight into the hunt where Dean dies, we see a flash of the next 5 to 10 years of their lives. We see them living in the bunker, but it gets slowly more homey, more lived-in. Vitally, for Dean’s character specifically, we see hints of him picking up new hobbies, maybe he’s playing the guitar, we see him in the kitchen, maybe he’s playing D&D, I don’t know. Something to show that Dean is living life and enjoying it, getting to find out who he is without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s not totally settled, you get the sense that the lingering sadness of his losses, the trauma of his life, is always going to weigh on him... but he’s doing what he can to enjoy the little things, and he’s taking pride in his continued work as a hunter.

Eileen moves in, and if we can’t see the actress, fine, we can have Sam saying “Eileen called, she’s getting home late, we should start dinner” or whatever. It’s implied that the three of them are living there together. We see that Sam has a son, we see that Dean is an active part of the kid’s life, a great uncle, totally spoiling his nephew. Maybe we see shots of Sam and Dean on other hunts, we have phone calls, mentions like “hey, Jody has a lead” or “Charlie called, she wants us to back her up on xyz.” Basically, through a montage or through a short sequence of scenes, we see that Sam and Dean have continued on, life as usual... but there’s a peace to it now without big cosmic forces standing in their way. Maybe Sam and Eileen semi-retire and move out into the suburbs, and we get shots of Dean-as-the-new-Bobby, a role I always imagined for Sam, but it works for Dean, too.... the bunker is central station, he’s coordinating things, he’s finding new skills within the life of hunting, he’s mentoring people and still getting to save people and hunt things.

And then, Sam and Dean, who don’t always hunt together anymore as Dean often goes off with other hunters, and Sam and Eileen are less active in the field now that they have a kid, decide to take a case together, just a routine hunt. Cue Dean getting impaled on a nail (or maybe he dies in a less awkward way so he doesn’t have to lean against a wall and make his big death scene looking completely unhurt? Which I thought was really strange).

But basically, we could have a version of the death scene as stands. I do not hate the idea of Dean dying in a relatively “mundane” way... literally just the idea that he lived for a handful of years after defeating Chuck makes the idea of his death SO much less empty and devastating for me, because this time Dean didn’t get cut down before he got to enjoy his life at all. It’s still sad that he’s dying younger than he should have, but he died doing a thing that he loved, he found love in the hunting lifestyle without the pressure of other’s expectations, and we got to SEE that, we got to see him making it his own, and making it just one important slice in a more robust and happy life.

Vitally, instead of saying “it’s always been you and me” during the goodbye speech, and making it all about how Sam is the center of Dean’s world, it would be framed more like “I’ll be okay, Sammy, and so will you... go home to your family, to our family, tell the kid to be good, but not too good, okay? And I’ll go be with our family that’s already passed on... we’ll see each other again. We’ve got Jack looking after us.” When Sam says “I can’t do this alone,” Dean doesn’t answer “yes you can...” Instead he says “you’re not alone, Sam.” Because he’s not. He has a family already at this point, and Dean is his family, but he’s not the only person left in Sam’s world that he loves. Dean can still say he was scared to get Sam at Stanford, that he didn’t know what he’d have done without Sam... but he’s so glad they got to be family, got to share so many amazing years, got to be best friends and be there for each other through so much craziness. This time, Sam’s “don’t leave me” isn’t quite as soul-renderingly tragic, because Sam has a wife and a kid already. The death scene would emphasize the tragedy of this separation, but acknowledges that they’ve grown to have more to live for outside of each other.

Then, we see more of Sam growing old, but he seems less utterly miserable, had more years with his brother before the end, knows that Dean got to be a part of his kid’s life, and feels confident that Dean is at peace and that he’ll see him eventually.

2) The second change is even more simple, it’s literally just adding in a couple extra lines of dialogue to... fix the Castiel situation a bit. So. Ahem. Again, this is imagining a world where Misha can’t be in the episode, where we’re keeping the basic structure. There are just two small changes that fix this, for me.

One, before the montage and Sam having a kid and all that, at the pie festival scene at the beginning... when Sam says “I miss Cas and Jack,” we get a slightly more robust response from Dean. He talks about how they fought so hard to break free of their unhealthy cycles, to escape the influence of fate, and that as much as he wants Cas back, he can’t risk making things worse again and betraying Cas’ sacrifice... but THEN, IMPORTANTLY, he says “Jack’s gonna be hand’s-off, but we know he’ll look after Cas no matter what.” This could be just a faith thing, or if we’re allowed to stretch back into 15x19 and fix that too, Jack could even say that as part of his goodbye, like, “I’ll make sure Cas is at peace.” So now, even though it’s annoying that Dean isn’t rushing to rescue Cas from the Empty, it could be more akin to the later decision when Dean tells Sam not to try and bring him back. Sam knows Dean is going to a peaceful afterlife when he dies, and Dean and Sam let Cas go because they know he’s safe with Jack and also given his rest/peace. (Instead of what we got, which was just... they knew Cas was in the Empty and didn’t even bother checking if Jack would like... handle that?)

Second, when Dean goes to Heaven, at least having lived a decade or so of the life that Cas sacrificed himself to provide for him, he sees Bobby, Bobby gives him the spiel, says that Jack and Cas helped make Heaven better (in this version, Dean would be less surprised by this; he would have known even as he was dying that Jack was going to look out for him and all of the other deceased souls). And then Bobby says, “what do you want to do?” and Dean says “I want to see my family... gotta get some good quality time in before Sam shows up and hogs all the attention.” So it’s like a balance of the fact that he’s waiting for Sam and can’t wait to see him again, but it’s implied that he goes and hangs out with his mom (and dad, ugh, John is the WORST, but maybe he went through The Good Place afterlife and he’s learned to be a good person lol), with Bobby, with Cas, and even with Jack, maybe, as perhaps the new God doesn’t mind chillin’ with the already-dead humans, or at least the ones who raised him.

It would be dealer’s choice as to how Destiel-ish Dean’s final line here could be... he could say the thing about waiting for Sam but going to reunite with his family, first, and throw in something about “there’s a conversation with someone that I really need to finish.” Something vague enough that the homophobes would let it fucking air on TV, but promising enough to put a smile on at least some people’s faces.

Then, instead of the montage being just Dean driving around, we get something a little different, but still very simple. We see Dean maybe hanging out in a house in Heaven, playing with Miracle the dog, maybe a callback to a hobby we saw him have on Earth, playing music or cooking, implying a full afterlife even if we don’t get to see the other people... he’s setting a table for like a dozen people who are coming over soon for dinner, or he’s shouting out “hurry up, my parents are hosting” to an unseen occupant in another room, we see Cas’ trench coat slung over a chair, general signs of habitation and home.

We’re cutting between this Heaven montage of Dean, with the montage of Sam on Earth, growing older (and in my version, someone who knows what they’re doing makes Jared’s wig and age makeup look less like the stuff of nightmares, oh holy hell....). We see Sam letting go, dying of old age, going to his rest...

And in Heaven, Dean suddenly freezes in the middle of playing fetch with the dog, or frying up some bacon for breakfast. He gets a look on his face... a hopeful smile. He’s just realized that Sam is coming. He can sense it. This is what he’s been waiting for, the last thing he needs to make Heaven truly perfect. He gets in the impala (which isn’t literally the spirit of his car, it’s just that everything he loves from Earth gets to be with him in Heaven), and he drives off to the bridge while “Carry On Wayward Son” kicks onto the radio. He gets out of the car, reunites with Sam, says “hey, Sammy. Everyone’s going to be so excited to see you.” They hug, they look out over the bridge... The End.

SO. Just to reiterate, this is NOT my version of what the “perfect” finale would have been. This is more just a way for me to process my feelings about the fact that the episode was pretty much entirely awful in my opinion, and it would have been relatively easy to fix it so that it was only... medium awful. Like, with basically no huge changes, just letting Dean be a part of his nephew’s life, getting to be a part of Sam’s life as Sam started a family, and then still having the poignancy of him dying before his time, but also as a hero, as the best version of the thing he always thought he needed to be but now has chosen to be, has taken ownership and pride in. And then by just buffing up some dialogue in a couple of spots, we could have had an episode that still centered primarily on Sam and Dean, still ended on just the two of them (which, frankly, I’m not mad about, it’s their show, and it has been from day one...), but still honored the message of “family don’t end in blood.” Still honored the idea of found family and community and belonging and living for more than just each other.

And if that’s what I had walked away with... well, I would have had some complaints. But I think the whole thing would have felt a lot less... empty to me. And it would have been doable, within the constraints of COVID, and limited actor availability, etc.

There have been some finales that I’ve hated so truly and thoroughly that there was simply no way to engage with them without it tainting the whole show for me. This finale was so weird, because I feel like just a few band-aids, some punch-ups to the script, would have made me feel SO much better about what we got. They didn’t need to reinvent the wheel with this one. Even given the constraints, they could have been a little more creative, a little more thoughtful, and pissed people off a lot less.

#my posts #spn #supernatural #destiel #sorry this is such an unedited ramble #i just keep thinking about the things i would have changed #if this was the episode structure they wanted to go with #and i wish it wasn't #they could have made it not TOTALLY sucky.

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scientists123 · 4 years

Text

A Beloved Son

Collaboration with @Retrodandy and help from @joshschumazer

______________________________________________________________

The rich parents were lived with their sons. They have two son but their son have a different traits. The younger child’s name was Ady. He was one year younger than his old brother. He was very handsome and so clever. He was a kindhearted person and become a beloved one in the family. His parents always to support and loving him. He is a full package of good boy typically.

But not like his nice brother, Ardhi as the old brother was a bad boy typically. He was arrogant and not caring to others. He made a drug sealer, smoking, and sex party group. He has a tatoo in all over his body. He usually to join a racing competition. With his bad boy persona, some of chicks like him so much. It was made him became a playboy. He made sex with many girls who he want. His parents were hated him because his attitude but his younger brother still caring him. Because their bad lifestyle, he was out from home. He was lived lonely in a flat with supporting from Ady every month and used the money gift from the racing competition.

At the midnight, Ardhi think about his younger brother good life. He was lived with a glamour style in their luxurious house and became a beloved one in the family. He made a great career too. Ardhy was felt envy to him. Suddenly, one of his member group came to him.

“Excuse me boss, I’m sorry because I was not talked about that before. I could to help you.”

“What are you can doing, dude ?”

“Since I became your member, I didn’t tell you about my real background. I’m a scientist and now I was finished a machine that can making a body swap process.”

“It’s sounds great. What’s your plan ?”

“My plan is to kidnap your brother tommorow. You can talking to him about a financial problem in front of your house. Then, we will kidnaping him from behind and bring him to our basecamp. You can using my machine to swap your body and him.”

“You’re so clever, dude. I must giving you a big amount of money if the plan becoming true”.

“Thank you, big boss.”

“Let’s do it tommorrow. When it’s come true fastly, it’s more better. Hahaha.”

“Okay boss.”

In next day, Ady was came to Ardhi’s house. Ardhi’s member was kidnapping Ady from behid. When Ady heard something, he was turn arround and got a hit from the log until he passed out. They were brought him to their basecamp by the car. In the basecamp, the scientist and Ardhi in their position definitely. Ardhi was sat in one of the machine’s chair and the scientist was checked the machine. The others member was taking Ady’s body in another chair of the machine. The plan was almost succeed and just to wait the machine progress.

“Are you ready boss, it was made a little hurt.” The scientist said.

“Just do it now, motherfucker!” Ardhi replied with his anger.

The scientist started this machine and pushed the button so the machine was worked. The electric sense flowed the machine until the chairs where Ardhi and Ady were sat. It was gave a jolted to them and made their body shocked in 10 seconds but after that, their body became normal. Ady was opened his eyes first.

“Hey, take it off from me” Ady shouted.

“Boss, it was you ?” one member asked.

“It is me. Do you want a knock from me if you want a prove?”

After that, his member get him out from the machine. Ady stand up and look at his hand. He touchs his legs and smirks after that. He starts to make his body shirtless and looking his muscle and rubbing it. “Ahhhhh, little bro. Your muscle so awesome.” He starts to check his dick and smiling with a scary look. “A smal dick, huh. Hahaha. Don’t worry little bro, I will make it bigger.”

“Give me a mirror, now!”

“It is for you, boss” The scientist said with a mirror.

Ady going to the mirror and looking his face. He checks all about part of his face until his hairstyle. He gives a different expression as a prove to him because it’s real. “Bro, you’re so handsome. I will bet to fuck many girls using your body”. Then he replaces the mirror. He starts talking to his member.

“Okay, my member. Bind my former body in the warehouse. When he wake up, you can doing anything do you want. I don’t care because this is my new body now.”

“Okay, boss.”

Ardhi’s member put Ardhi’s former body in the ware house and make him tied in a chair.

“I want going to home now, take care yourself dudes. For the scientist, you can become a leader for this basecamp when I enjoying my new body.”

“Thank you boss. I’m so appreciate for that.”

Ady going out from the basecamp and using his motorcycle and he using his clothes that he thinks fit with to his new body. “Well, Ady. Thank you for your awesome body and fancy life you give to me. You are so helping me. I will live as you forever and fucking every girls I want. I will smoking in my new body too. Don’t wory about our parents. It’s can be our secret and I can acting like you when I meet them. I think to exercise your body and make it being a sexy and fucking hot.” Ady said with his smile.

Then, he put the helmet and ride the motorcyle to his family house. “Finally I meet my parents again and I will become a beloved son for now that I didn’t get in my body.” Ady said in front of the house. “I am a beloved son for my parents now” Ady shouted happily

#male body swap

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irwinkitten · 4 years

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men of mayhem | a.i |

notes: thank you for the support on part one! it honestly meant the world since i’ve been working on this for idea for a while now. this part isn’t as lengthy as part one, but part three will certainly make up for it. chances are this will be wither four or five parts depending on how the last part gets written and whether i need to split it or not. for those who may or may not be confused by the timeline, i have a small list of what’s happened.

—Michelle and Ashton are both born in 1978

—Become friends at the age of five in 1983

—Her younger brother Matthew (Matty) is born in 1992

—Heads off to university at 18 in 1996 (First four years as an undergrad and then 3 years for law school)

—They get engaged at the end of her first year. They’re both 19.

—Ashton and Michelle get married at 20 in the June of 1998

—Michelle returns to university in the fall of 1999.

—Michelle and Jen accept their internships in the January of 2000

warnings: none word count: 2.6

part one

The honeymoon was everything Michelle had dreamed of her life becoming. Travelling each state, spending some days there before moving onto the next one, it was a thrill of the unknown.

Only twice did Ashton have to use his name to get them through territories. His face was known enough that a few of the locals thought they’d get something. Most of them got a few bullets and a warning to the others.

When the Irwin’s left the States, both of them relaxed much more. Ashton knew of a group over in Ireland, however he knew better than to try and antagonise them on their own soil. The last thing he wanted was to cause problems overseas and Michelle had been firm that they were staying in Dublin for their duration.

Not one to argue with his best friend and wife, they kept the trip to Northern Ireland short before making the trip across to the UK. When they’d arrived in the UK, Christmas was fast approaching, only three weeks away. That was when they both suffered with bouts of homesickness. Long distance calls didn’t do much and it was going to be their first Christmas together, away from their families.

They travelled up and down the country, exploring the small seaside towns in the south before partying with strangers up in the north. It was a thrill for the both of them with so many new sights that they’d made the decision to see the new year whilst they were in the UK.

Ashton could see his wife thriving in this environment, especially since she’d made good on her plans to have sex in every state and every country they were visiting. And for a brief second, he imagined what it would be like if they immigrated.

But it was at night, on the quieter ones when they needed the peace away from the busy streets, when he was holding her tightly as she told him how much she missed their parents and Matty. It was too far and he knew that he’d get bored of a relaxed lifestyle.

Both of them made sure to send him postcards from every place they visited. When they had the chance to call, Matty was always crowing about how he was making a book so he could show his classmates where they’d been. Ashton had laughed and told him to wait till he saw his gifts.

January brought in the year 1999 and they crossed into mainland Europe on the channel tunnel. Ashton managed to surprise his wife with a hotel that overlooked the Eiffel tower as well as bookings for top restaurants in Paris before they ventured north into Belgium.

As much as they both missed riding the bikes back home, they’d gone with the sensible route of hiring a car, making their trips easier. It certainly helped that once they passed through Belgium into the Netherlands, they’d become adept at getting by.

It was certainly an experience for the Irwin’s, especially in Germany. As they travelled over to Berlin, they decided to make more days out of their trip. They knew that there was a time limit now, they needed to get back in time for Michelle to register for her fall classes.

With that in mind, they worked their way around Europe. From Germany they travelled through Poland and spent time in Warsaw before travelling down to Czechia so they could visit Prague before going through Slovakia and into Hungary. From there they went west into Austria before finally reaching Italy which had been one of their main destinations. The plan was to spend a month in Italy before travelling to Spain via France and then back to the UK once more.

The last few months seemed like a dream to both of them. Michelle almost regretted the fact that she had to go back for fall classes, but when they returned home greeted by their families when they arrived from the airport-suitcases in tow-it was a relieved Michelle who greeted their parents and her little brother, the four adults asking rapid fire questions to the younger couple.

Matty listened to both of their stories, the adventures that they had, the smaller trips that they made in the countries to the long drives. He was beside himself with glee when, after each story about each country, he was given small gifts from those countries.

Before either of them knew it, Michelle was back in the city and Ashton was back on his bike, joining the various smuggling runs that were going on.

The travelling had only heightened his instincts, stopping standard runs from turning into bloody massacres.

That was when Bert finally made his decision, knowing that after a few more years in the business, he’d be able to leave the club in safe hands.

Michelle fell back into her classes with ease. Although some of her classmates were the same, there were new faces as well.

Jen had come over for wine and dinner after the first week and thanked her for all of the beautiful postcards that had been sent to her.

“Did you really think you weren’t going to be kept up to date on my travels? Especially having so much sex all year?” They shared giggles as Michelle moved from her spot on the sofa, picking up one of the last few bags that she’d brought with her.

“What’s in the bag, Chelle?” Jen nearly dropped her wine as Michelle threw it to her.

“Open it and see.” Came the playful response as she retook her spot and Jen eyed her curiously before opening the bag.

Dipping her hand in, she pulled out the most beautiful scarf she’d ever seen, the colours vibrant and the fabric soft. Happily, the other woman abandoned her wine to really get a feel for the scarf, her eyes moving to Michelle in almost an awe like manner.

“Where did you get this from?” Jen breathed, placing the scarf on her lap before grabbing the bag to see if there was anything else. They were small trinkets; little snow globes and a small toy.

“I got the scarf when we were in Czechia. We met a lady in the UK who had recently travelled there and we’d told her that we were planning to go there as well. She told us to at least stop in Prague, collect some scarves as gifts. She said that she bought some for her daughter and nieces, and it’d been one of the better and more practical gifts.” Michelle explained as Jen stroked her fingers over the scarf once more.

“She’s certainly right. Oh I can’t wait to be able to wear this when it gets colder.” This prompted another giggle before they moved into the kitchen to eat.

The year began to fly by and as they started to venture into the courthouses, Michelle was beginning to win her cases that were presented. She was beginning to get recognised and requested, which had surprised her tutors, but they encouraged her, especially when Jen began to carve her own path.

It was no surprise to either women when they were offered Internships at different law firms, both of them surpassing the expectations of the class. Both offers had been made at the start of 2000, and both women toasted this to the start of a better decade.

It was the first year that she had all of their families come to visit during her summer off from university. Ashton stayed for the duration, her brother travelling up for the occasional weekend with Calum who did a few runs in between and kept Ashton up to date with things that couldn’t be discussed over the phone.

It was during this period when Ashton had a second moment of consideration to the thought of moving the club, but he knew that the police in the city weren’t so easy to bribe. Michelle had sensed his hesitation and when he mentioned it, the look on her face spoke volumes to him.

“If you do that Irwin, you’re not the man that I married. And anyway, you most likely won’t become the club President til long after I move back, so get those thoughts outta your head.”

And it was easy for him to switch them off, to forget that the thoughts even existed in his mind for a few moments. They were moments forgotten, replaced with moments of excitement at the prospect of his wife finally coming home.

When normality returned for Michelle in the fall, it only highlighted to her how much she missed her home. She may have lived in that house, but it wasn’t home by a long shot.

Her school years began to slip away from her. 2000 slipped into 2001, and as her days became routine, 2002 crept up on her. Life became steady for them both, despite their own disruptive lives with work and school on Michelle’s part and the club on Ashton’s part. But they worked through it.

Numerous times Calum showed up instead of Ashton, being her protective detail every so often which alerted her that things were happening back home which potentially put her in danger.

Sometimes he showed up without any warning and those were her favourite times, especially when Jen had taken a shining to Calum. Michelle had quietly warned her friend that Cal’s life was not for the faint of heart and Jen had smirked at her friend in reply before asking if she could show him around the city.

Michelle all but shoved him out of the door laughing when that had happened.

A few months on from that, she’d learned from Jen that she wasn’t after anything serious with Calum and they’d come to the mutual agreement for it after the first night. Michelle had only been partially relieved and still rolled her eyes whenever they crossed paths whilst he was there and they’d flirt as if they’d never met.

After a few months of this, some of the guys in her class had seen sides to the ladies that they never realised was there. It’d been a long week for Michelle, constantly on edge whenever her and Jen went out. That edge served her well when she spotted one of the guys from her course trying to convince her staggering friend to let him take her home.

She was certain his chest was sporting a bruise from her elbow.

Calum had shown up that weekend, and seeing her taut like a spring, he didn’t take long to convince her to go out with him.

“It’ll be safe, doll. Would Jen want to join us?” The surprise on his face as she scowled at the floor briefly was missed entirely by Michelle.

“It’s been a rough week for her. Let’s just go out, you and me. Like old times.” He snorted at that but nodded before she vanished upstairs to change.

Calum was unfamiliar with the bars, he’d not really bar hopped in the city before, but Michelle had a level of comfort and familiarity with some of the bartenders, so he let her lead the way.

Conversation was light and easy between the two. Calum knew to steer away from her cases and she knew better than to ask about any of the runs in such a public setting. But like always, there was something to talk about and more often than not, Michelle had taken to teasing him about Jen.

“Please tell me she told you that she got a noise complaint from her neighbours?” Calum laughed at that as he paid for their drinks. They were on bar three an the alcohol was leaving a pleasant buzz. Whereas Michelle was more likely to get herself plastered, Calum knew better, especially with the gun that was tucked into the back of his jeans.

“She failed to mention that to me. Maybe I should drop by tomorrow after I’ve had dinner with you, see if we can get another complaint before I head back.” Michelle laughed at the cheeky grin before she felt someone grab her arm.

“Stay with me sweetheart, you don’t need a gang banger like him for a night. I can show you a real good night if you’ll let me.” It took a minute for her to register the voice, her mind finally placing the name to his face as well.

“Fuck off Evan. You know I’m married.” She held up her left hand and he scoffed.

“Hey gang banger, you fucking her on the side or is she your main piece?” Fury ripped through Michelle but before she could verbally flay him, she felt Calum’s towering presence and smirked as Evan’s face dropped.

“You wanna say that about my sister again?” Panic in his eyes made Michelle snort as he tried to step back, but she stuck her foot out, making him stumble.

“Take it outside.” The bartender warned and Calum simply nodded, grabbing Evan by his jacket and pulling him outside. Michelle followed, making sure that he wouldn’t get himself arrested.

“Apologise to her now.” His voice was harsh with his demand and she watched in a stony silence as Evan stuttered out his apology.

“It was-was just a j-joke. I’m sorry if I-if I offended you.” Calum glanced back to Michelle and it finally hit her where she really recognised him from.

“You weren’t apologising last week when you tried to drag my friend home with you and ended up with my elbow in your chest. So no, that bullshit of an apology doesn’t float with me, sunshine.” She snapped, her eyes meeting Calum’s briefly.

It took a second for it to dawn on his face who she meant and he turned to face Evan.

“Maybe this will be a reminder of how not to treat women, piece of shit.” The first punch was landed before Evan could fight back, the second managed to make a cut and break his nose, blood dripping down. The third one knocked him out.

Michelle didn’t hesitate to hand him a napkin to clean off some of the blood before he offered his arm to her, making her snort as he gauged where they were for a second before going in the rough direction of where he knew her house was.

“So how are your parents doing? I know they asked after me when I didn’t come home again this summer.” Calum just laughed.

“They know that you’re in your last two years and with the Internship they don’t blame you for staying in the city. Momma Hood wants you back for Christmas this year, no arguments. Keeps saying the town feels too empty without you.” This had her groaning but also agreeing with his mother's demand.

No one could say to his mom and not feel guilty. She learned the trick of making people feel like they’d kicked a puppy if they said no to her.

When school recommenced in the fall, she’d spoken with Charlie, her employer, and managed to request that she have the following summer off to return home, and the agreement was in principal, as long as she remained contactable for any cases that they needed the full team or a fresh set of eyes for.

It worked in her favour that she rarely took any vacation time off and had been available last minute for some of their bigger cases. With that promise of the summer off, Charlie also told her that there was going to be a position on his team, waiting for her once she graduated.

That news had been welcomed gleefully and gratefully accepted.

Getting to the last year was going to be a breeze, especially knowing that she had a job waiting for her on the other side of her studies. For now, she was content to get to the summer and finally get some time off with her family and spend time with her little brother.

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joonsdiary · 4 years

Text

the first date

↳ part two of the: (not) the love of my life series

pairing. ceo!seokjin x hotelier!reader (female) genre. arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and a sprinkle of angst word count. 3,0k

chapter summary. having your first date after getting proposed to definitely seems backwards, but you’ll do anything to keep a semblance of ownership of your hotel.

⇀ alternatively. will seokjin live up to his reputation and sweep you off your feet? or will it be just another business meeting for you and him both?

the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement

“Did he say eight on the dot? Or a little after eight?”

Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you paced back and forth at the lobby of Hwang Hotel, irritating Joohyun who stood behind the front desk. You were unsure why you were feeling nervous like a teenager. It wasn’t like you haven’t gone on dates either — you had just gone on one yesterday, no matter how terrible it had been.

“You’re making me nauseous,” she deadpanned but her complaint did nothing to deter your rhythm.

“Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

“What’s got you so jittery, anyway?” she picked up a clementine from the complimentary bowl in front of her and began peeling the fruit carefully. “I thought you said this morning that you weren’t going to let him under your skin.”

“I’m not,” you snapped at her, but she only gave you a smirk. “I’m just unsure how this will go. He’s practically well-versed when it comes to the female anatomy.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased, and the realization of your statement sent your pulse humming. You snatched a piece of orange from her, the taste of citrus reminding you of the night prior. “The bashful look on your face says it all, honey.”

She winked, and you could only reply with an eye roll.

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure you’ll knock him dead with your usual charm.” Joohyun encouraged.

“I don’t even know if we’re on the same playing field,” you chewed the bottom of your lip nervously.

“If anything, you’re way out of his league. Trust me.”

You rolled your shoulders back in an attempt to calm down.

“You’re right. If anything, this will be exactly like a business meeting. I mean, it’s not like any of this is real anyway.”

But the façade can only go so far before you began breaking down once more.

“Why did I even agree to this?” you groaned, leaning the weight of your hips against the cold marble desk.

“Because,” Joohyun leaned over and grab both your shoulders, “you love this place too much to see it be gentrified by those good-for-nothing billionaires.”

“I don’t know…this place could use a little fixing up.” You turned your head to see Seokjin, immaculate as ever while donning a grey slim fit suit that accentuates his broad shoulders. His shiny black shoes glint underneath the bright lights of the hotel, and you think to yourself how much more expensive they probably were than your whole outfit alone.

“Future wife.” He greeted, right hand hovering the small of your back. You flinched away from his touch and his frown doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Mr. Kim.”

He inhaled sharply through his gritted teeth and Joohyun snorted, unable to hold back her own amusement. It was your turn to wink at her before turning to address Seokjin.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. Let me just grab my coat.”

* * *

“Where are we going?”

Seokjin stopped at a red light, loosening his grip on the wheel before turning his full attention towards you.

“You know that new restaurant a few blocks from— ”

“Absolutely not,” you looked up at him in horror, and Seokjin’s eyebrows raised inquisitively. “I was there last night, and it was the most terrible experience I’ve ever had. They barely served real food.”

You rolled your eyes and shivered with disgust to make your point, but Seokjin was more interested in why you were there, instead.

“You were there last night? Don’t take this as an insult, but I didn’t peg you as the type.”

The light turned green, and he cursed the traffic from taking his attention away from you.

“None taken. It was totally not my scene. But if you must know,” he felt you shift in your seat as you continued, “I was there for a date.”

Oh.

Unprompted, Seokjin swerved to the farthest lane on the right, jamming his foot on the break. This sent you hurtling towards the dashboard, but the seatbelt thankfully held you back from getting hurt.

“Chateau’s it is,” Seokjin said resignedly. He didn’t like the new place either, anyway. It was more of his younger brother’s scene rather than his. He wasn’t sure what type of restaurant you preferred — or if you even cared for that matter — so when Taehyung suggested an allegedly popular place that had just opened, he’d agreed.

“A little warning would be nice.” You grumbled under your breath, but he didn’t make the effort to apologize.

He pulled his foot away from the break as he steered to the left, swiftly making a U-turn.

“Nice to know my fiancée is going around on dates. The press will love that, for sure.” Seokjin aimed for nonchalance, but his voice dripped with discontent more than he wanted it to.

“Oh, please, I barely garner any attention. And it’s not like we’ve officially revealed our engagement, so the public has no reason to speculate,” you stated pointedly.

She’s right, Jin. Be reasonable.

“Also, I was doing it out of spite for my parents.”

“Of course.”

Did that mean the dress you wore when he came by Hwang Hotel was because were on a date with some random egghead hours prior? The thought had him gripping the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grew white. He thought you looked breathtaking in a classic mini black dress with your legs that went on for days. Seokjin licked his lips, his mouth running dry. Lucky bastard, whoever he was.

His eyes flitted briefly to your knees, only to discover it’s covered by cream-coloured slacks. Disappointment coursed through his veins when you’d dressed up more like a business arrangement rather than a dinner date.

Duh, this is a business arrangement.

“Besides, weren’t you also on a date just a few days ago? Daily Gossip said so.” He smirked at your accusation, and from the dim streetlights they passed through he could make out your unimpressed expression.

“You actually read that tabloid crap?”

“No. Yoongi told me.”

He did a double-take on the unfamiliar name. Was he the lucky date from last night? Seokjin would have to figure that out later.

“Don’t worry, future wife. Unlike you, I’ve been a faithful fiancé,” Seokjin grinned wickedly, liking your stunned expression a little too much. “It was strictly business.”

“With the president’s daughter?” you pressed on, unknowingly feeding his ego.

“Aren’t you ever the little sleuth,” he turned to you before winking. “We’re here, fiancée.”

He exited his side of the car before promptly opening your door. He took your hand, before placing it on the crook of his elbow.

* * *

Seokjin ate up the attention like he was a man who hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks. You had your doubts about actual paparazzi showing up, but despite the last-minute decision to hightail to Chateau’s, the camera’s flashing in his direction. To be fair, it’s not as if they were all professionals; some were regular folks who just so happened to recognize him. You secured the loose strands of your hair and slid away from him without him noticing.

The moment of unbridled freedom only lasted a few seconds, as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer towards him. He leaned forward, lips brushing the tips of your earlobes.

“Don’t you dare move away when the cameras are pointed right at us,” his voice rumbled low in his chest, sending a shiver down your back where his hand rested comfortably.

“Um, we didn’t make a reservation. Unless you own the place, I don’t think we can get in on a whim,” you gathered your hands in front of you, unsure where to place them. Seokjin looked at you with slight amusement tugging the corner of his lips. Your eyes widened in late realization. Of course, he owns the damn restaurant.

As soon as he waltzed in the place, the waiter did not even bat an eyelash and immediately guided you to a semi-secluded spot near the back. It felt low-key enough for a private conversation, while also allowing a few eyes to speculate and linger.

“What would you like?” Seokjin asked as he flipped through the menu with a blasé attitude. You watched the waiter pour champagne in two flute glasses.

“Anything goes for me,” you shut your menu with a soft thud, not bothering to go through the whole list. You weren’t really feeling like dinner anymore, craving Yoongi’s sweet and sour fried chicken, instead.

Seokjin eyed you with suspicion, but you gave him a curt smile. He handed the waiter the menu and proceeded to order an array of delicacies without a pause. You’ve been to Chateau’s only once during your college days and only because you lost a bet, so it was probably safer to let him handle everything.

“At this point, I won’t be surprised if all the property in downtown Seoul belongs to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t purchase government buildings.” His arrogance seemed to prickle your skin, and every second he kept that ridiculous smile on made you want to claw your eyes out.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” you folded your arms protectively as the fabric of the blouse you wore chafed the skin on your forearm. It took you awhile to put together an outfit that didn’t seem to forward or eager (because you definitely weren’t eager) so, you went with something you would normally wear to work.

“You weren’t about the lawyer life your parents had, so you decided to go into business?”

Nodding mutely, his inquisition brought about your parents’ disappointed faces at your refusal to take over the family’s firm. Being their only daughter, your estrangement only placed a wedge on your already strained relationship. You were never attracted to their uptight lifestyle, and perhaps if you had a different outlook on how other lawyers’ lives were, you’d change your mind.

They weren’t always like that, however, especially your father. But things started changing when they you realized they were grooming you to become like them, which was something you didn’t want.

“Something like that.”

“You weren’t aware of them selling the hotel, though?”

“No. I was idiotic enough to trust them with the financial side of the business, thinking they’d somehow have better insight than me. They never mentioned the hotel had been swimming in debt for a while now,” you heaved a sigh as the food arrived. Undeterred by the presence of the waiter, you continued. “Then again it’s probably what they wanted so I’d crawl back to them and ask repentance for my sins.”

“The prodigal son,” he suggested. You laughed softly, nodding. “Is that why you’re pushing to finish your masters?”

“Colour me impressed, Mr. Kim. Your research is thorough,” he rolled his eyes, motioning for you to finish your story. “Yes. I only have this year left, and I’ll be done with my studies. I’m assuming you did the same?”

Seokjin shook his head, fiddling with a piece of meat on his plate with the silverware. “I could only stick it out for four years.”

“Because you were certain of your future as CEO.”

His head dipped in agreement. Must be nice to not have to question your own future.

“Until recently.”

“Well,” you smiled, picking up your flute glass in a mock toast. “You’re welcome. I’m here to whip you up in shape and help you secure the bag.”

“I’ll be forever indebted to you,” he raised his own glass before sipping, eyes not leaving yours.

“That’s not necessary. That’s why you’re returning my hotel to me, right? We’ll be even. Fair and square.”

He smirked but as soon as he saw your plate, his mouth formed into a straight line.

“Chateau’s cuisine not up to your standard?”

“It’s not that at all.” You stabbed your fork and brought the food to your mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing with difficulty. “Slightly traumatized by last night’s dinner, still.”

“With Yoongi?”

Your friend’s name rolling off Seokjin’s tongue was something you hadn’t expected, so you choke on your food slightly. You reached for the champagne, downing the whole glass. Seokjin reached for the bottle, giving you a refill.

“No,” you gave him a curious gaze. “I don’t even remember the guy’s name.”

He nodded mutely, but his aura had shifted once more from laid-back Seokjin to business Seokjin. You were sure you’re going to leave this restaurant with a whiplash.

“So…” you began, unable to bask in the uncomfortable silence any longer. “How did you get the epiphany?”

“What epiphany?”

“This whole I’ll-fake-being-in-love-so-I-can-convince-my-father-to-retire-and-hand-me-his-position charade.”

Seokjin’s expression was stoic as he answered. “It was Taehyung who suggested it.”

You sifted through your memory in an attempt to put a face to the name. When you didn’t say anything, Seokjin filled the gap for you.

“My youngest brother.”

Right. Three strapping sons of the Kim family.

You were ready to bring up more small talk to prevent the atmosphere from spiralling. But it was as if Seokjin remembered the whole purpose of the two of you being here and dove right to business.

“The engagement is going to be announced next week on a Friday, in case your parents haven’t told you.”

You nodded despite being unaware.

“The wedding is on Saturday — exactly three weeks from now. You don’t have to worry about the planning; I believe my side of the family is doing all of that. I convinced them to make it a small event, much to my mother’s chagrin.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t elaborate further.

“It’ll be happening at my estate instead of Kim Hotel’s wedding hall. I thought the change of scenery would make it more intimate and believable, especially if it’s happening in my house.”

“Wait, back up — your estate?” you gave him an incredulous look.

“Why is that so shocking?”

“I thought you lived atop that lonely tower of yours, Rapunzel. I didn’t know you have a castle.”

Seokjin’s mouth curled up in the slightest, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“It was something I bought for myself after being COO.”

You felt like there should be a but that followed, but it never arrived.

“I’ll mail you the prenuptial agreement and anything else that requires your signature. It’s nothing we haven’t talked about before, but I’d like you to read it thoroughly in case I missed something.”

“No.”

Seokjin’s head snapped up in confusion. The momentary show of emotion was a welcomed event.

“I’ll visit you in that giant building of yours and sign whatever you need me to. We’re supposed to be in love, so it would look better if I’m there because I just can’t resist seeing you.” You said the last words sardonically, not one hint of truth within them.

“Good catch, fiancée.”

The lightness in his tone made your heart leap, and you cursed yourself for being so weak. But the feeling doesn’t last, so you told yourself it’s just something new to get used to. Kim Seokjin wasn’t going to be a permanent fixture in your life, so you’ll have to find a way to keep him at arms-length but the same time, somehow stay unaffected by his hot-or-cold nature.

As the night wore on, and the vibrant atmosphere you initially had with Seokjin faded, completely flatlining by the end of dinner. Prior to getting on his red Porsche, he’d kissed your forehead while you stood stiff as cardboard. You asked him to drop you off at your hotel instead of your apartment and he did without much question.

“Night, Rapunzel. Have fun in your tower.”

Seokjin shook his head, lush lips forming a small grin. Maybe being fake-real-married to him wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Park’s friendly face greeted you as soon as you entered, and one look at the front desk told you Joohyun had gone home for the night.

“Yoongi?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t see him come through today.”

“Oh,” you slouched defeatedly. Yoongi usually had weekend shifts, but this is probably a rare night when he’s off. You’d just have to fill him in through texts, then. “Thanks, Mr. Park. Have a good evening.”

“You too, Ms. Hwang.”

You made a quick beeline for Grigio, wanting to get coffee before you head up to your office. Jungkook’s familiar face behind the bar was a welcomed sight.

“I’m glad you’re here, at least,” you groaned, slipping into your usual spot. It was a little bit more hectic than the previous night, as Jungkook was evidently joined by another bartender you don’t recognize.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Hwang, I won’t be able to cook your cure-all soup for you,” Jungkook teased, pouring the contents of the cocktail shaker into a martini glass.

“I don’t need that tonight, thank god,” you propped both your elbows on the table and rested your chin on your palms. “I do need the best coffee you can possibly make for me tonight. I’ve got lots of work waiting for me upstairs.”

“You’re not staying?”

“Nah, I don’t want to bother you. It seems busy here tonight, which I’m glad, of course.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more but instead, he bit his lip and nodded. While he busied himself with preparing your coffee, your mind lingered to the night’s event. Sure, you hadn’t stayed long for a casual chat, but you did get a lot accomplished. The two of you coordinated on which days you were both free and planned a few more dates.

You can do this, Y/N. Just tough it out through the wedding and a few months of pretending. Then you’ll have everything you want.

Hope blossomed in your chest as determination coursed through your veins. You were never the type to back out of anything, so you were more than willing to leap over a few hurdles on the way to your end goal. As long as you kept your head clear of any other obstacles, winning the prize will be an easy feat.

NEXT ;

hope you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated ♡

#seokjin fic #seokjin scenario #jin scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #ceo!seokjin #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #seokjin smut #seokjin #writing

89 notes · View notes

bad268 · 4 years

Text

Apple Pie (Dean Winchester X Reader)

Fandom: Supernatural

Requested: Entry for @deanwanddamons’s 1k Challenge with the prompt, "When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears. When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears." and @spnquotebingo. Square Filled: ”There can be no good without evil.”

Warnings: None

Summary: Ex-huntress reader gets back in the game, and Sam learns why Dean loves apple pie.

A/N: This was a pre-written oneshot, and it does not mean I will go back to my normal updates yet. I have been struggling for three weeks with writers block, and I have not had any motivation to write. Most of my stories have zeros feedback, and it makes me feel that I am writing for ghosts, guys. Hopefully, I will have something to upload on June 9 (I have one more pre-written shot). I’m sorry, guys.

My requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Growing up in the hunting world is not the best, any hunter will second that statement. After having your parents, and siblings killed in a fire that was started by the yellow-eyed demon, you wanted to abandon the hunting lifestyle. Unfortunately for you, the person your parents gave custody of you to was a hunter named Bobby Singer. With you being 12 when your family was murdered, you knew a lot about hunting. Your mother never wanted you and your sibling to hunt, but your father felt that you should know how to shoot a gun for self-defense if it came down to it.

Being with Bobby had some benefits. He introduced you to the Winchesters. In your family, the sibling closest to your age at the time was five; a whole six-year age gap. When you met the Winchesters, you were only a few months younger than Dean, so you two became fast friends. Sam became the little brother you protected, and even though you wanted to leave the lifestyle, you wanted to stay just for then.

When you turned 18, you told Bobby that you wanted to leave. You wanted to get out of that life and go to college like a normal person. You wanted a normal life not whatever this was. He respected it but said that if he ever needed you, he would call you. On that note, you left. You did not turn back.

Now, seven almost eight years later, Bobby called you saying he and the Winchesters needed help at the cemetery. The last thing you wanted to do when you got back into the hunting life was to be spotted helping the Winchesters. The targets on their backs were bigger than the moon, and you did not want to be associated with that. Alas, you promised Bobby that you would come back if he needed you.

“Glad you could help us out, Punk,” Bobby said using an old nickname you had. You smiled before grabbing a salt gun from the back of his truck.

“There can be no good without evil, right?” You ran over to the brothers leaving a confused Bobby behind you. You jumped behind a headstone, shielding yourself from the demons flying out of the mausoleum. “What did you two get yourselves into this time?”

“Sam may have accidentally opened a gate to Hell and the demons are flying out,” Dean explained. You groaned at their ignorance before getting up to attempt to close the doors. Dean decided to cover you, so he started shooting demons around you. Sam tried to shoot, but his gun got jammed somehow, and three demons cornered him. You and Dean noticed this and turned to fire at the demons, but a ghost you recognized as John Winchester got the tormentors away from Sam.

“Dean, help me out over here,” you said, seemingly snapping him out of his awe of seeing his father as a demon. You continued to run up to the doors, having a rope in your backpack. You walked up to the doors, hidden behind the headstones and trees. You started to tie the rope around the handle of the door. You watched Dean sprint to the other door, and you tossed in the other end of the rope. He tied it before you both jumped out, pulling the rope closed; locking the doors together. “Next time, do not open gates to the underworld. It’s not going to be pretty now that you guys have to catch and return all the demons that escaped back to Hell.”

“Actually, we were hoping you would come help us out?” Sam asked, fearing the answer you would give. Deep down, he knew you would not stay with them. He really just wanted Dean to shut up about his crush on you, and stop Dean from hooking up with so many girls in whatever town they're in. “Please?”

“You two are big boys. You guys don’t need me,” You state with a roll of your eyes and a frown evident on your features. “Besides, I left this life years ago. I do not want to be a part of it anymore.”

“Come on, (Y/N/N). You are one of the most resourceful hunters we know,” Dean pleads. You turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist, turning you into his body. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears. When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears."

“You know better than anyone, Dean,” You dropped your head, but he used his other hand to lift your face up and lay his forehead to yours. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“If you join us, we would be stopping the demons faster than ever. With your hunting hacks, Sam’s research, and my looks,” You laughed lightly before he continued, “we would be unstoppable.” He brought his lips to meet yours. It was not overly sweet, but it was passionate enough for you to feel how much Dean wants you to follow. Your kiss went on for a few moments only for it to be broken when Sam cleared his throat. “Come with me. I won’t lose you again.”

“As long as I get my apple pie,” you laughed before racing towards your car.

“That's my girl!” Dean shouted before chasing after you.

“So that’s where Dean got his obsession with apple pie,” Sam said thoughtfully as he walked slowly to the Chevy Impala he spends the majority of his day in.

~~~~~

#deanwanddamons1kfollowerschallenge #spnquotebingo #bad268 #thing268 #ship268 #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #supernatural one shot

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raccoon-wizard · 4 years

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Two and Half Assholes

An entire one person (shout out to @jumpfiend) expressed their wish for me to write an angry essay about the long dead show Two and Half Men (2003-2015) and all the problems it has. Allow me to start by saying that I am by no means a professional critic and I have never really written an in-depth review of anything. But I have a lot of feelings that I need to get out about this shitshow, otherwise my head is gonna explode next time my father insists on watching it.

Just a warning, this is a very long post.

What is Two and Half Men about?

If I tried to write my own summary here, I would probably end up tearing it to shreds already. Instead, I’m going to borrow the annotation from IMDB.com: “A hedonistic jingle writer's free-wheeling life comes to an abrupt halt when his brother and 10-year-old nephew move into his beachfront house.”

That doesn’t really say much, does it now. Luckily, the same site also provides us with a wide range of plot (hahahah “plot”) summaries written by users. This one tells us a little more: “The Harper brothers Charlie and Alan are almost opposites but form a great team. They have little in common except their dislike for their mundane, maternally cold and domineering mother, Evelyn. Alan, a compulsively neat chiropractor and control-freak, is thrown out by his manipulative wife Judith who nevertheless gets him to pay for everything and do most jobs in the house. Charlie is a freelance jingle composer and irresistible Casanova who lives in a luxurious beach-house and rarely gets up before noon. Charlie "temporarily" allows Alan and his son Jake, a food-obsessed, lazy kid who shuttles between his parents, to move in with them after Alan's separation/divorce. The sitcom revolves around their conflicting lifestyles, raising Jake (who has the efficient, caring dad while having a ball with his fun-loving sugar uncle who teaches him boyish things), and bantering with Evelyn and various other friends and family. Other fairly regular characters include Charlie's cleaning lady Berta and his rich, self-confessed stalker neighbor Rose who often sneaks in to spy on Charlie.”

Now that’s much better. It gives us quite a decent picture of the show’s ensemble. At least for the starter episodes, this is pretty much what it is. But as the show progresses, we see that the characters have a little bit more depth to them. But not that much.

Let’s start with Charlie Harper, the “freelance jingle composer and irresistible Casanova who lives in a luxurious beach-house and rarely gets up before noon” portrayed by Charlie Sheen. (Is that man still a thing?) I think we can get a lot by taking apart this brief description of him. Freelance jingle composer pretty much means that he has a grand piano in his house and we can occasionally see him playing it while trying to put together words for a commercial for some random product. And that’s it. He has a few other musician friends who are just as big of assholes as he is, but we’ll get to that later. Other than that, we don’t really see him working at all. I think there is one episode about him writing kids’ songs because his girlfriend’s kid likes them. And one about him getting an award?? I don’t know man. The second part of that statement is a much more prominent “personality” trait of Charlie’s. In nearly every episode, we see him “dating” (meaning shagging and then dumping) another woman. I have mentioned in my initial post that this show is misogynistic. Don’t worry, I will also get into that later. For now I’m going to say that Charlie treats all these women absolutely disgustingly and we’re supposed to laugh at that. On the rare occasions we see him in a long term relationship (which happens twice I think? I’m not sure now), we get the stereotypical ball and chain bullshit. The woman takes all his freedom and tries to make him better. While I hate that trope with burning passion, I have to admit that in this case, she does have a solid point. Charlie is a pathetic excuse of a man who has to count on his good looks (questionable) and his riches. By the way, where did he even get them? Does composing jingles really make that much money? Is he that good of a gambler? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen another episode addressing the fact that the answer to both of these questions is no. Where the hell did this luxurious beach-house come from??? So many questions about a show that deserves so little.

Surprisingly, Charlie is the better one out of the two brothers. At the start, we really do feel sorry for Alan. His wife (who is a HORRIBLE person by the way) kicks him out and manipulates him into still paying for everything and doing many things for her around the house. Who wouldn’t feel bad for someone like this? He moves in with Charlie “for the time being”. Soon, we realise that he is not leaving the house anytime soon. He becomes a disgusting leech, a truly pathetic excuse of a man. And he doesn’t even bother hiding it. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to feel sorry for him or laugh at him, but either case doesn’t really work if you spend at least ten seconds thinking about it. How are we supposed to sympathise with a man that lives off of others and barely lifts a finger to change it? The worst part is, the show presents it as something completely normal. We don’t really see Alan’s actions turning against him, do we? Most of the time, whatever shit he does, works just fine for him.

Another prominent character is Alan’s son, Jake, who grows up throughout the series. A fat little boy, not exactly bright. A spoiled brat (if it’s the fault of Alan or Judith is questionable) that has everything handed to him, as Charlie points out in one episode. It’s another bad personality trait that we’re supposed to find funny. And at first, we kind of do. But once again, as the show progresses, it gets worse. Jake becomes the oldest kid in his class because he fails so many times. He only gets to start middle school because “he’s too big for the desks in his class now”. A bit of a watered down Dudley Dursley now that I think about it. It feels that the older Jake gets, the dumber he is. He eventually joins the military because he is too daft to realise. (If I remember correctly, that was done only so Jake’s actor could leave the show because he pretty much realised how bad it was.)

The main reason why I hate this show so much, however, is its way of handling female characters. There’s a few prominent ones - the aforementioned Judith, Alan’s ex wife, a cold hearted manipulative bitch, that also follows the trope of “I’m breaking up with you because I’m a lesbian” for a while, but then it’s never addressed again, not even once. Then we have Alan and Charlie’s mother, Evelyn, also a cold hearted bitch lacking any motherly instincts whatsoever that the men blame for how they turned out. Honestly, I can kind of see it. There’s Rose, Charlie’s neighbour whom he had slept with once and who’s been obsessed with him ever since, following him pretty much wherever he goes and inappropriately visiting him, usually in order to chase any woman that gets close to him away. We have Berta, Charlie’s housekeeper that I would like to believe is there to show the differences between different classes, as she has a large family to take care of, fending of her daughters’ admirers and dealing with drug and alcohol issues. But at this point we all know she’s only there so we can laugh at her struggles and the witty remarks she likes to make.

A special category of women in this show are the lovers and girlfriends. All of them end up either leaving the men for someone better (good for them tbh), or getting left by them. But remember, we’re supposed to always be siding with the men. The women are there for us to laugh at and hate. Rose the stalker? The only reason Charlie never gets rid of her is so we can laugh as she appears unexpected on his balcony over and over again. Are her apparent mental health issues ever addressed? Maybe once, but as a joke. You know, the classic ha ha ha ha look an insane person that’s hilarious. Judith the ex wife and her flock of weird friends (that Charlie converts)? Look, evil wives hating men, ha ha ha ha. Better run away from there, men, or they’ll eat you alive! Ha ha ha ha. Judith wanting support from friends and claiming she deserves to be happy is played off as something we scoff at. Chelsea, Charlie’s girlfriend and fiancée? The ball and chain thing, similarly to Judith, but not nearly as manipulative - this one we can see really means well and wants to help Charlie, but he’s a Man™ and cannot handle that, despite claiming to love her very dearly. Lindsay, Alan’s on again, off again girlfriend? Oof. Where to even start with that one. As most of the characters (save for maybe Judith), she starts off decent, despite her inexplicable desire for Alan. (Seriously though what in the world is up with that.) Also, now that I mentioned Alan’s weird sex appeal (not to me but to the female characters of the show, ew), what the hell was up with Judith wanting to suddenly fuck him again and HIM ENDING UP BEING THE FATHER OF HER DAUGHTER???? Was that the point when the writers just said “you know what, fuck this” or?

Some additional things the men on the show did to women:

Infidelity. Aka “ha ha ha many women want man what a lucky bastard he gets to fuck many women ha ha ha oh no he’s been caught ha ha ha funny”.

Infidelity with their friends/family members. I’m pretty sure this happened multiple times. One of the male protagonists gets a girlfriend. Girlfriend has an attractive daughter. Man sleeps with daughter. Girlfriend is mad. Man claims that it is actually a compliment to her because the daughter is just a younger version of her. Man gets upset when girlfriend disagrees. Poor man, girlfriend mean :(((

Another thing I would like to point out is the show’s dumbass approach to sexuality and gender. It’s the age old, straight men bullshit that lesbians = hot, gay men = ew. We see that throughout the whole thing a bunch of times. Alan ends up marrying Walden (whom I will talk about as well) so they can scam an adoption agency. That’s just wrong, man. That’s awful. And regarding gender, the way this shitshow handles trans people is disgusting. I can currently only think of one instance of this, but I have a feeling it happened multiple times, but with Charlie and Alan. They meet a woman, flirt, sleep together, all fun and games. But for some god forsaken reason, after all is done, the woman decides to be like “yeah by the way I used to be a dude” and?? Why?? First of, why would any trans person want to tell anyone their deadname and other things after successfully transitioning? I’m a cis woman, but this really makes no sense to me. Please correct me if I’m wrong on this one, but if you’ve spent years trying to pass as whatever gender you identify with, transitioned, you wouldn’t exactly go around sleeping with people and afterwards telling them about it, would you? And second of all, the entire reason why these characters appear are so we can be like “eww he slept with someone who used to have a penis eww” and laugh as they have a small crisis because of it. Just. Why?? I am aware that this is a thing other shows do/have done as well, but it really bothers me. And even when the guy decides to roll with it, all we get are those jokes that the woman is “more manly” than him. I remember vividly Alan hooking up with a trans lady and briefly dating her, only so we can see her pick a fight with a man, pay for their food and shit and Alan being flustered because he feels like less of a man. Again, please correct me if I’m wrong since my knowledge of gender is limited, but I’m about 97 % sure this is not how it works.

One would have thought that most of this would end after Charlie’s death. His place is taken by Walden Schmidt, portrayed by the angel that is Ashton Kutcher, a “billionaire internet entrepreneur who has recently been divorced and is now suicidal” (wiki). Before I dig in to how it actually got worse, let’s talk about Walden for a while. He really is a nice change. Walden is a genuinely good character, we see him working super hard and treating women well and just being great. I actually like him. The problem the show has when it comes to him is treating his suicidal-ness as just another little joke. Ha ha ha man wants to die man weak. Funny. But as we get over this part (rather quickly tbh), things involving Walden get actually good (besides the part where he sleeps with Alan’s mother). We do see some annoyingly familiar divorce related things, but in contrast to Alan, we see Walden actually get back on his own two feet.

Alan will forever be my biggest issue with this show. I don’t know if he gets worse or if it’s just the contrast with Walden that makes it seem that way, but he becomes a bigger and bigger parasite, exploiting Walden’s kindness, becoming a lover to his, at that point, former girlfriend Lindsay and somehow exploiting her current boyfriend? He just goes haywire is what I’m trying to say.

I’m not saying that people like that don’t exist. We see it every day, the rich playboys, the pathetic incels. They are everywhere and we totally should talk about them. But not like this. We shouldn’t feel like we should sympathise with them, we shouldn’t hate those that try to criticise them, or those who want to get rid of them. We shouldn’t laugh when they hurt people around them. Men shouldn’t want to relate to them. Characters like this should be presented as something we should avoid becoming.

“What’s your problem? It’s just something I watch to unwind,” my father scoffs at me as I complain about yet another evening we all have to spend listening to the nonsense Two and Half Men brings us. Yea, maybe for you. Maybe you know better than to treat people around you, especially women, like they’re just something you can play around with and then throw into the sewers. Maybe you give everyone equal respect. (No he doesn’t, by the way.) But you know, with the way this TV channel plays this show over and over and over and over again (five episodes a day, every day, and the second they get to the end, they just start over), there’s probably a number of young people who don’t realise how wrong it is and take what’s said there as something to live by. Maybe they’ll think that it’s okay to use people to their advantage. Maybe they’ll think like a rich entitled middle aged straight white man. That’s my problem. Even though the show ended five years ago, it still lives on our televisions and it still gives us wrong examples on how to live our lives. That’s why I hate the show. Not just the awful writing and “plot” holes. It’s the way it treats people and presents it as something that’s totally fine.

#tv #television #tv shows #comedy #sitcom #two and half men #jon cryer #ashton kutcher #charlie sheen #sexism #misogyny

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