#and they’re givin me the good stuff

[twilightcitysky]

Courtship

“Crowley, come in! I was just redecorating.”

“Really? You never redecorate. Last change you made was in 1860, when you had the plumbing installed.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “After everything that happened, I started thinking things over,” he said tenderly. “We almost lost the bookshop, but here it is, good as new. We almost lost the world, and… and now that we didn’t, I want to make some changes. I think it’s time.”

Crowley frowned. “Here, have you got something in your eye? You keep blinking.”

Aziraphale stopped trying to flutter his eyelashes. “I’ve painted the back room,” he said eventually, in a more normal tone of voice. “Would you like to see?”

He headed towards the door without waiting for an answer and pushed it open. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. Very nice. I might’ve gone with a warm gray, or maybe mother-of-pearl… but yellow’s good too.”

“I happen to like this particular shade of yellow,” Azirphale said, a trifle testily. “Very much.”

Crowley held up his hands. “Hey, it’s your bookshop. Are you ready for lunch?”

*

“What’s this?”

“They’re flowers. Roses, dahlias, and a few Peruvian lilies.”

"What do they do?"

Aziraphale, holding out the intricately beribboned, carefully wrapped and above all expensive display from the most exclusive florist in London, began to feel a bit awkward. "They… smell nice, I suppose? And they can brighten up a room."

Crowley peered over his glasses. "Sure, for a little while. But they're cut, see?" He touched the bottom of the bouquet, as if Aziraphale perhaps hadn't noticed. "They'll die in a week."

“I suppose. I thought you might–”

“Is this more redecorating? I can help with that, no problem. Listen, why don’t I get rid of these for you… and if you’re wanting something for the bookshop, we’ll get a nice rubber plant to put under the window.”

Aziraphale sighed.

*

“Oi, angel! Think you dropped something!” Crowley jogged to catch up with him and put the matte black box, which he’d left on the seat of the Bentley, back into his hands.

“Ah. Actually, you see… that was for you.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat. “In case you got peckish,” he added lamely.

“This fancy stuff? Men break into bedrooms at midnight to leave this kind of chocolate next to pillows. Saw it in an advert.”

Aziraphale brightened. “Would you like me to break into your bedroom?” he asked, a tad breathlessly.

Crowley laughed. “What for? Listen, why don’t you have these. You’ll appreciate ‘em more than I will.”

*

“Are you ready to go?” Crowley glanced at his watch.

“Just one more thing. I. Er. I-thought-you-could-wear-this,” Aziraphale said in a rush. “If you like.”

Crowley took the velvet box from his trembling hand.

He opened it. “It’s…”

“Yes?”

“It’s very sparkly.” Crowley held the ring up to the light.

“It’s a diamond,” Aziraphale said desperately. “A diamond ring.”

“Oh. And you’re givin’ it to me because…”

“I–” Aziraphale stopped. He searched Crowley’s face, looking for a flicker of understanding. “My dear, I would like–”

“Oh wait, let me guess. It’s for your magic act, right? Are you practicing palming again, or is this the sort of ring that squirts ink when you twist the jewel?” Crowley pulled curiously at a glittering stone the size of his thumbnail. “Happy to help if you need an assistant. Just no more bullet tricks, okay?”

Aziraphale stared at him. “Yes,” he replied dully. “My magic act. Yes. Exactly. I’m trying to make something appear.”

“Got it in one!” Crowley gave him a pleased grin. “I know you so well, angel.”

“I daresay you do.”

Aziraphale followed him out to the car. There’s nothing else for it, he thought. I’ll have to throw a cotillion ball.

[kaontic]

Oh my actual Lord, the dream’s come true. O_O

*Kicks down door* OH THUNDERCRACKEEER~

BUSTER’S ‘BOUT TO GETTA NEW FRIEEEND~ (´∀`)//🐱

He’s got a pet human now too, I guess—

Why my dumb human ass, with my crappy art, could almost wish upon an evil shootin’ star, that it was me instead “What?” What—? 😶

Alright. Now we just need Skywarp to get one. Or two. Or a few. Someday. Maybe.

Um—

*Whispers* Psst, hey, Megs, I don’t wanna be that betch—I make unintentional mistakes I gotta edit for my sanity all the time—but, it’s “What do you say?”. That’s probably why they’re givin’ ya looks.

I mean, that’s pretty accurate Megatron dialogue ngl. Like this is the same guy that said in G1 “Power flows to the one who knows how”, as if that was an actual full sentence.

Ik, that’s beside the point of what the frag’s goin’ on, so, “respectfully” (with heavy emphasis on the quotation marks)—

Can ya just…rip out your own chain-smoker soundin’ aft voice box, and shove it? Pretty please? Mr. Geneva Suggestions?

“YoU kNoW tHe LiMiTs Of My PoWeR! i NeEd SoMeOnE tO wIElD mE!”

“But my leader, you have your fusion cannon—”

“Do NoT qUeStIoN mE sTaRsCrEaM!”

Unless Skybound’s gonna give us a “good” aft explanation for this, like some Cybertronian gunformer curse we dunno about yet (given the serious corruption goin’ on, from the looks of it, with Star and Op)—

I would say more about Megs’ gun mode as an effective concept, but I’ll save all that for another post.

Instead I’ll just spout out this scrap to review:

Most explanations are welcome for why villains do what they do, even if it’s just “Cuz I’m evil”. 😈

(TF One Sentinel tho…yeah. Gotta make a post regarding him as well)

Here, they wanna save their home planet as energy sources dwindle.

Ok, so resources. Got it. Yes. #1 reason why wars are fought, and wars need soldiers to fuel ‘em. Enemies turned potential recruits who are prisoners don’t comply? Well, logically speaking then— 🤡

Or maybe, just maybe—this might sound crazy, but—how about not start a whole goddamn war that will worsen this crisis, Megs?

How about not turn fellow Cybertronians into the worst versions of themselves, and delete their innocence? Cuz great, now ya created a monster that will betray ya!

Ask yourself: What the frag are you fighting for?

Cuz you’re just makin’ the problem worse, mate.

At least Jetfire tried to look beyond Cybertron peacefully for a solution, which despite how well that went, sounded a helluva lot better than exhaustive in-fighting, but no, frag exploration.

Frag trading with “filthy” organic alien species.

Frag experimenting for new sources of energy (lookin’ at you, Shockwave. Now I know your aft was enabled).

Frag examining Cybertron’s history for answers.

Frag speaking with Optimus like a civilized individual.

Population control’s where it’s at, apparently. ಠ_���)

Jesus, so many questions NOT ENOUGH DEETS. (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

WE NEED MORE FLASHBACKS STAT.

Skybound Megs so far, is coming off as a guy who, when the worst happens, will just use the situation/impending apocalypse to his advantage to do terrible stuff, and get away with it through all the chaos.

Furthermore, it’s like we’re watching him live out some sick fantasy of his while he’s all “This is for the greater good of Cybertron!”. Like no bitch! There’s other options! You have no excuse!

You wanna be a pred, who kills for pleasure and power, while demanding to share that experience with others with or without their consent.

There. That’s what kept me up last issue.

Well, this is one moral of this ongoing story, and life advice I guess:

BEWARE THE F*CKIN’ NICE ONES!

For they may be the worst of all. Great…

*Proceeds to pollute my sketchbook with more Megatron art cuz I am indeed that betch*

[aeoki]

Swing Night - Prologue

Characters: Adonis, Kouga & Keito Season: Spring

Kouga: ♪~♪~

(Alrighty, time for another hard-workin’ day ♪)

(Things sure were a mess when “HELLSING” were involved, but “UNDEAD” could grow even bigger by absorbin’ em.)

(Thanks to that, we were performin’ and doing variety TV shows – things were super hectic, but I wanted to keep busy.)

(I’m givin’ it everythin’ I’ve got and every day feels fulfillin’.)

(My schedule’s also packed to the brim and even though I’ve just graduated Yumenosaki, I ain’t got any time to get burnt out.)

(Actually, I think I’ve been ignorin’ real life and other small stuff ‘cause I’ve been so busy… Hm?)

What the hell…? Why’re there so many people in front of the dorm entrance?

Keito: –Oogami!

Kouga: Huh? What’s wrong, frickin’ Four-Eyes? Why’d you call out my name so energetically first thing in the mornin’?

Keito: Stop slandering glasses. In fact, you should show some respect.

Kouga: The hell? Why do I have to respect glasses?

Anyway, that ain’t important. What’s with the crowd? Did somethin’ happen?

Is it a fight!?

Keito: Don’t jinx it. And wipe that excited expression off your face.

Kouga: I know. It was just a joke, geez.

Keito: Hmph. A joke? I see someone’s in a good mood. Well, I suppose things for “UNDEAD” have been looking up lately.

But it’s also precisely at times like these that people tend to ignore their footing. You must keep your guard up even after victory, or so they say.

Kouga: Huh? Why’re you actin’ like my upperclassman now?

I’ve already graduated from Yumenosaki. We’re no longer students of different grades – we’re members of society with equal standing now.

Keito: Indeed. You’re right. Welcome to society.

Kouga: I don’t care ‘bout that. Tell me what’s going on.

Keito: I’d actually like to ask you this: Have you not heard anything?

Kouga: Huuuh? What’re ya talkin’ about? Does this have somethin’ to do with me?

Keito: Look closely. They’re all paparazzi and reporters, packed into the entrance to the dorm.

Kouga: Paparazzi and reporters? Why’re they here? Seems pretty exaggerated to me. It’s like they’re here for a press conference or somethin’.

Keito: That’s a rather fitting phrase to describe it. It seems something intriguing that the public is focussing all their attention on is occurring. It appears Mr. Popular over there is in the centre of the whirlpool.

Kouga: Who? Uhh…?

Dammit, I can’t see ‘cause of the crowd!

Keito: Would you like a lift, Oogami?

Kouga: Why do you sometimes act like you’re my big brother or somethin’!? I’m a lone wolf, you hear – an only child!

Keito: Hmph. It wasn’t my intention to act like your older brother.

In any case, look. You can see a little bit when you look from here, right?

Kouga: Hmm…?

Adonis: …………

Kouga: Huh? Hey, that’s Adonis!

Keito: It is. It appears the reason for the whole fuss is Otogari this time.

Paparazzi and reporters stormed the dorm upon hearing that Adonis Otogari, a member of the popular idol unit “UNDEAD”, has a girlfriend.

Kouga: Oh, yeah, yeah. Huh. So it was just about Adonis having a girlfriend…

HUUUUH!? ADONIS HAS A GIRLFRIEND!?

Keito: Indeed. It appears they’re saying all sorts of things like how he acts like a gentleman on the outside, but he’s actually a playboy… 

Kouga: What the hell!? That doesn’t just apply to Adonis! They don’t know nothin’ and are just sayin’ whatever the hell they want!

I’m gonna go and shut their traps.

Keito: Wait! Don’t head over there, cracking your knuckles!

Calm down and stay put. You’ll just make things worse.

Kouga: But…!

Keito: Don’t worry. Anyone who knows Otogari knows what sort of person he is. He’ll prove that those were just baseless rumours.

Right now, Otogari is doing his best to earnestly deal with the situation. Watch over him if you’re his friend.

Reporter: There are rumours that you have a girlfriend, Otogari-san… Is that true?

Adonis: …………

Reporter: Well?

Adonis: No. That’s a mistake. I don’t have a girlfriend.

Kouga: (Y–Yeah~ Heheh, that’s the Adonis I know…!)

(Heheh. He’s acting so confident, so the reporters should understand that those rumours were wrong…♪)

Reporter: No, no. Otogari-san, please don’t twist words. We have quite a lot of evidence backing our claim.

Adonis: I know. She isn’t my girlfriend, but my fiance.

Kouga & Keito: ………….

Kouga: HUUUUUUUUUUH!? WHAT IN THE FRICKIN’ HELLLLLLL!?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNext Chapter →

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 14 - DREAM CATCHER | Episode 23 - Best Shot

Troupe Member A: Misumi-kun, they’re pushing the start time of the dress rehearsal back by twenty minutes.

Misumi: ‘Ka~y!

Troupe Member B: You’re an incredible actor, Misumi-kun, so you must’ve been doing it for a long time, right? Have you been acting since you were a kid?

Misumi: Nope, I started when I joined MANKAI Company.

Troupe Member A: The debut of the Newborn MANKAI Company was a handful of years ago, wasn’t it? Huh, so I guess you’ve just got a natural talent for it, huh?

Troupe Member B: Why did you start doing theater?

Misumi: I snuck into the dorms of Gramps’ theater company and they invited me to join~.

Troupe Member A: Your Gramps’ theater company, huh…

Misumi: My Gramps’ name is Hakkaku Ikaruga.

Troupe Member B: You’re Hakkaku-san’s grandson!?

Troupe Member A: Huh, I never knew that. I guess it makes sense since ya have the same last name.

Troupe Member B: So that’s why Syu-san’s got his eye on you.

Troupe Member A: Y’know, Syu-san is a hardcore fan of Hakkaku-san. He’s still got a picture of the two of them together hanging in front of his mirror.

Misumi: A picture of Gramps!?

Syu: Don’t just go around sayin’ stuff like that.

Troupe Member A: Whoa, everyone, scatter.

Troupe Member B: Haha, I’m sure he would’ve known as soon as he saw it anyway.

Misumi: I wanna see the picture of Gramps!

Syu: …Guess there’s no avoidin’ it. Here.

Misumi: It’s Gramps…!

Syu: Hakkaku-san was never one to like takin’ pictures, so this is pretty rare.

Misumi: Yeah!

Syu: If I remember correctly, that was taken right around the time you were born…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Flashback*

Hiro: Glad your grandchild was born safely, Hakkaku-san!

Syu: Congratulations.

Kasumi: Waah, such a cute baby~.

Zen: It’s a boy, right?

Yukio: His eyes look a lot like yours and Kusumi-kun’s, Hakkaku-san.

Syu: Have you already decided on a name?

Hakkaku: Nope, there’s been a few possible ones, but I’m still lost.

Hakkaku: I’ve also been asked to write up the naming certificate. I might be a writer, but I’m no calligrapher.

Syu: Since he’s your grandson, I’m sure he’ll be a promising scriptwriter.

Hakkaku: No… I’ve got a feelin’ he’s more of an actor. Well, it’s better to just let him do whatever he wants anyway.

Hakkaku: But if that is the kinda future he’s got, I’d love to see my grandson standing on stage.

Hakkaku: And if it were at MANKAI Theater, I’d be all the happier.

Yukio: Haha, I guess we’ve gotta keep up the good work then.

Hiro: Our theater’s gotta make its impact now.

Zen: We’ve gotta keep goin’ the extra mile or else it’ll all fade away.

Kasumi: And you’ll have to keep on living even longer too, Hakkaku-san.

Hakkaku: You’re right about that. I never thought I’d have so many more dreams at this age.

Yukio: I know, Hakkaku-san. Since we’re here, why don’t we take a picture with your grandson?

Hakkaku: A picture with my grandson?

Yukio: To commemorate this! I did go through the trouble of buying a new camera for the troupe, after all.

Hakkaku: So it’s really just for you to test it out? Hah, sure, why not?

*Flashback end*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Syu: I’m sure Hakkaku-san would’ve loved to see your acting.

Misumi: Gramps…

Syu: It’s a good picture, ain’t it? Normally he wouldn’t let people take his picture, but he was in an unusually good mood when this was taken.

Syu: I’m givin’ this to you. It only makes sense to return things to the people they belong to.

Misumi: Huh? Are you sure…?

Syu: Right when we were about to print off the photo to give to him, he told us that he had just decided on a name for his grandson.

Syu: Here--.

Misumi

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[the-himawari]

A3! Sakisaka Muku - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Treasure (2/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Muku: (This should be the place, I think…)

Sakyo: …

Muku: ! —Good afternoon, Sakyo-san.

Sakyo: Ah, you came. That was quicker than I thought.

Mukuk: The hint for my treasure hunt was easy to figure out, after all. This came to mind as soon as I saw the sheet. It felt new talking to you alone here, so I remember it like it was yesterday.

Sakyo: Same here.

*flashback starts*

Muku: …

Sakyo: …Sakisaka?

Muku: Sakyo-san! What a coincidence.

Sakyo: Yeah. …Are you studyin’? I didn't interrupt you, did I?

Muku: Oh, no. I’m more or less finished already, so it’s not a problem. If you’d like, why don’t you take a seat here? Did you come here to read some books?

Sakyo: I just wrapped up some work nearby. I finished what I had to do earlier than planned, so I thought I’d read some books as a break before headin’ home.

Muku: Okay, I see.

Sakyo: …Sakisaka, I see your glass is empty already. It looks like you were workin’ hard on your studies. I’ll buy you another drink.

Muku: Eh! Not at all. You don’t have to treat me…! I was just doing my own thing here…

Sakyo: There’s no need to be polite. But if Nanao and the others find out, they'll be clamourin' all over me. So in exchange, don't say a peep to them about this.

Muku: Alright…! Thank you very much for the treat.

Sakyo: Don’t mention it. What do you wanna order?

Muku: Hmm, I’ll get iced tea then…!

-pause-

Sakyo: By the way, the shoujo manga you told me about the other day was pretty interestin’ and worth the read.

Muku: Really!? That’s wonderful to hear!

Sakyo: The drawings were really detailed. The outfits were also drawn with lots of care.

Muku: That’s right! All the scenes were breathtaking and captured your eye. The military uniform the hero was wearing looked quite dashing, didn’t it? The dress the heroine wore also had lots of variations, so I recommended it to Yuki-kun… And he said they were good references for his designs.

Sakyo: I see.

Muku: By the way, the military uniform the hero wears is so popular that they’re selling it as a plushie costume as well!

Sakyo: A plushie costume? They sell stuff like that?

Muku: Yep! It comes in several sizes, so you can dress your stuffed animal in one that fits them.

Sakyo: (Is it that popular? I dunno much about plushies myself, so I’m not sure what all the craze is about. But…) That sounds like merch you’d like, Sakisaka.

Muku: Ehehe. I can’t deny that. I’d like to dress William up one day…

Sakyo: William… oh yeah, that was the teddy bear you own, right?

Muku: Yes! Right now, I’m working hard to slowly save up money to buy that costume for him.

Sakyo: I see. You’re thinkin’ with a plan in mind. That’s great.

Muku: Thank you very much. In any case, I’m really happy that both you and Yuki-kun read that work.

Sakyo: You’re good at recommending the manga you like to others. I naturally felt like givin’ it a read. That being said, maybe we can capitalize on that…

Muku: Capitalize on it…?

Sakyo: As the Shoujo Manga Appreciation Club, it might not be a bad idea to give presentations on the manga that we wanna recommend to our fellow members.

Muku: Presentations…! Wow, that makes me nervous, but I’d be happy if I could get everyone even a little interested in the things I have to share.

Sakyo: Miyoshi gives great presentations too, doesn’t he?

Muku: That’s true! I’d love to listen to yours and Kazu-kun’s presentations too. Let’s discuss it with Kazu-kun as soon as we get home!

Sakyo: Yeah, let’s do that.

*flashback ends*

Muku: And that’s how the Shoujo Manga Appreciation Club started holding presentations every now and then. Both you and Kazu-kun introduce themes that I never would’ve thought of myself, so it’s always fun when it’s time for a presentation.

Sakyo: I think your presentations are intriguing too… But this comes first today. Happy birthday, Sakisaka.

Muku: Aw, thank you very much…! Wow, the wrapping is adorable. Is it alright if I open it?

Sakyo: Go ahead.

*opens*

Muku: …!! This is the military uniform from that work…! It’s the plushie costume that I mentioned back then, right…!

Sakyo: Yeah. It didn’t look like you bought it yet. You can use that money you saved up for another special somethin’. It should fit since I got Miyoshi to check the plushie’s size in advance.

Muku: Thank you so much! I’m so happy! I never thought I’d receive this costume…! I’ll dress William up once I get home!

Sakyo: Pff… if it makes you that happy, then it was worth gettin’ as a present. Alright, here’s your next hint.

---

previous | next

[streetkid-jay]

Hah, don't worry kiddo, it did got cheesy but it's nice to see you liking the people.

Any particular opinion on a specific person or anyone else? As you can tell i am very curious ;)

that winky face’s a bit odd, but sure…

@greenflygirl’s real sweet and kind! she reminds me of my ma; the good parts of her, obviously.

just, uh. don’t tell her i said that, yea?

i worry for her money, though… gettin’ me a ton of stuff just ta live by ain’t easy.

the same goes for @darkknightofficial and @gothamsvengance! except they seem, like, real protective of me. like in a… ‘dad’ way more than a ‘worried stranger/superhero’ way.

does that make sense??? maybe i’m just bein’ weird. i dunno. i don’t mean that in a bad way — they’re nice! i like ‘em too.

oh! and! @batkid-from-another-mother!! me and him are street kid buds. :) we give each other tips on where ta sleep and how ta get food ‘n stuff! he’s awesome. a super cool superhero if i ever saw one.

maybe with enough time, he’ll (or batman will) be number one on my ‘best superheroes’ list and not wonder woman! maybe though. i’m not givin’ him any false hope. teehee.

[verdantcrimson]

Heaven and Earth / Discernment of Heaven and Earth - 7

(Unproofread)

Prev | Chapter List | Next

[A few days later. Inside the ES building, at Rhythm Link Office]

Koga: Oh, it’s Anzu. D’ya wanna eat some vegetables?

Koga: I ended up harvestin’ too many so I’m givin’ away the extras. C’mon, eat up, you’ve been lookin’ seriously malnourished these days. Ya gotta get your vitamins.

Koga: Hm? Adonis said the same? Haha, with the meat he gives you and my veggies, you’ll have a balanced diet, yeah?

Koga: But more importantly, the hell are ya doin’ in our office so early in the mornin’?

Koga: Huuh, they’re bringin’ outside manpower ‘cause they’re short-staffed? ‘Cause the thing from earlier, what was it called, the ‘Rumblin’ Heaven and Earth’ thing’s about to start production?

Koga: Eeh? You’re tellin’ me that the show that was obviously destined to fail, is gonna be properly made into reality?

Koga: That’s— Well, guess that’s just what you’d expect from that shitty glasses guy…… Even when things seem absolutely beyond savin’, he manages to turn it around.

Koga: He absolutely never gives up, just keeps persistin’ and persistin’ stubbornly until he makes his hopes a reality.

Koga: Prolly tough for the people that gotta deal with someone like that. But well, it ain’t my problem, so I’m just gonna sit back, relax, and watch it all happen.

Koga: Heheh…♪

Keito: Oogami! It’s good you’re here! Don’t just stand around and chit-chat, come help!

Koga: Ugh, He found me!? He’s still got the same old ears from hell!

Koga: I- I don't have the time for this, y’hear! UNDEAD and HELLSING¹— I mean, we were talking about makin’ a breakthrough and goin’ all out, right?

Keito: This is something that will benefit you all too, as members of the same office.

Keito: We submitted the proposal to reform ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ yet again, and though it was accepted by the agency, it ended up being a much larger scale project than anticipated, so—

Koga: AAAAAARGH! I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT! I DON’T WANNA! DON’T DRAG ME INTO YOUR SHIT!

Souma: Please do not say such things. If you could simply do odd jobs here and there to the extent of your abilities, it would be of great help. At present, reality fails to reflect our lofty ideals—

Souma: In truth, we have a shortage of most everything. We are lacking in manpower, costumes, props, setpieces, scripts, publicity and anything else you could imagine.

Keito: Yes. ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ is an antiquated show, so it’s been a little difficult.

Keito: After discussion of the fact that the show wasn’t very interesting to younger audiences, we decided that the presentation of it— The design aspect of it, would need to be revamped. 

Keito: And though RhythLink is a well-established agency with a strong base, there is absolutely not enough staff available.

Keito: The more skilled a person is, the busier they tend to be, so it becomes difficult to ask them to go out of their way for our sake.

Koga: HAAH? So the reason ya called out to me was ‘cause ya thought I wasn’t talented enough to be busy!?

Keito: You’re being paranoid. I know you’ve always been like this, but why are you so excessively snappy towards me?

Souma: Heheh. His behavior is reminiscent of a child who acts rebelliously so as to test the patience of his parents or older brother. My own younger brother behaves similarly as of late.

Koga: I- I don’t need any sorta big brother! I’m happy bein’ an only child!

Kuro: Oh, Oogami, good timin’.

Koga: Argh! Why’re each and every one of ‘em comin’ to bother me? I ain’t some sorta emotional support animal to soothe yer weary souls with!

Souma: Well in truth, speaking with Oogami is quite soothing. There, there. ♪

Koga: DON’T PET ME! I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YA!?

Kuro: Haha. By the way, after our presentation, I was put in charge of the costumes for ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth.’

Kuro: I thought I’d try changin’ too, and after a lotta experimentin’, I think I’ve come up with some good stuff.

Keito: Yes. This is something Kiryu achieved through his own desire and effort, not because I forced him to. I’m proud of you.

Kuro: Haha. You’re too quick to praise me, danna.

Kuro: I’m pretty terrible at dealin’ with pressure, so when I get given a huge responsibility, my brain and body start to shut down.

Keito: Your self-esteem is far too low. You should think yourself deserving of an even bigger position. It’s good to be more arrogant.

Koga: That ain’t real convincin’ comin’ from a constantly condescendin’ arrogant jackass like you, shitty glasses.²

Keito: Shut up. It might feel like your clothes are wearing you at first, but you’ll grow into it.

Kuro: Sounds about right. So I decided to stop complainin’ and just do my best to design the costumes.

Kuro: I’ve sewn a sample, try it on and see, Oogami.

Koga: HUH? Why me? This has nothin’ to do with me!

Souma: We have been doing a bit of deliberating. This new costume being exclusively suited for us AKATSUKI is insufficient.

Keito: Though naturally, having it suit us is our first priority. Our first order of business is to win over the hearts of the viewers in order to make this into a long-term series.

Keito: However, we won’t be able to spend all of our time on ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’, so we’re planning to gradually increase the frequency of show hosts that aren’t us as time goes on.

Kuro: We’re also plannin’ on invitin’ a couple of guests, so we wanna have costumes that’ll look good on people that aren’t us.

Keito: Of course, the costumes will be adjusted to suit the cast, but generally, we’d like them to look good on anyone.

Kuro: So I designed this.

Keito: Woah? Don’t lean your body forward like that, Anzu!

Souma: Hehe. Anzu-dono adores Kiryu-dono’s outfits. Or rather, one could say Kiryu-dono is Anzu-dono’s master when it comes to sewing—

Souma: As a disciple, she simply cannot miss her master’s work. ♪

Koga: OI! Quit gettin’ all mushy and gushy on me! The hell is this outfit!?

Kuro: The theme for this one was ‘An AKATSUKI beloved by children too.’

Koga: Don’t look so proud of yourself!? I’m not gonna wear this frilly fluttery outfit! I’ll look like an idiot!

Souma: Ooh, ‘Tis akin to the ‘aneemay’ for young girls that airs in the morning on weekends. 

Kuro: Heheh, I’ve been gettin’ into cutesy costumes lately.

Koga: I said, don’t act so weirdly proud of yourself! You guys know that you’re the ones that’re gonna have to wear this on the show, right!?

Keito: It’s fine, Oogami! We live in a time where boys can be Pr*cure³ too!

Koga: SHUT UP! Are ya guys so fuckin’ busy that the sleep-deprivation is makin’ your brains glitch!?

Koga: Are ya seriously gonna be okay, with that aura of chaos ya got goin’......!?

Translation Notes:

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HELLSING is a unit comprised of the same members as UNDEAD, but with a more traditionally rock centric image. It was initially made up of AI versions of the UNDEAD members, but has since been taken over by the real versions of them. Keito was in charge of managing HELLSING. You can read more about this in Flashback, a story set chronologically before this one.

This line was localized for better reading flow, but Koga originally refers to Keito's second person pronoun of choice: 'kisama' (貴様), a derogatory way of addressing someone.

It's obvious, but this is a Precure reference, specifically a reference to the fact that they recently started introducing magical boys to the magical girl show.

[ivory-lamps]

A02: Night Office

Characters: Daniel & Yodaka Location: Hama Summary: The protagonist visits the bar Daniel frequents. They enter and find a cheerful bartender and the bar owner deep asleep… Proofreader: Shay

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Location: Ten Nights’ Dreams Bar

Momiji / Kaede: Hm…?

(There’s… a flower on the ground?)

(Did it fall from someone’s bouquet? It’s beautiful… and it’s still fresh. I wonder what sort of flower it is.)

Daniel: Heey, Manager. What’re you doin’ in the middle of the road?

Momiji / Kaede: Sorry, I found something on the ground.

Daniel: Oh… a flower, eh? Didn’t think there’d be people dropping delicate stuff like this.

So, what’re you gonna do with that?

Momiji / Kaede: It’ll wilt if I leave it on the ground, so for now, I’d like to give it some water, though.

Daniel: That’s perfect, then.

Momiji / Kaede: What do you mean?

Daniel: Come on, let’s go in.

Daniel: Hey, hey.

Momiji / Kaede: (“Ten Nights’ Dream”... This bar has really nice vibes. It’s quiet and calming.)

(I get the feeling that they’ve taken a lot of care in picking out the furnishings. I wonder if they chose them all based on the era? Oh.)

(There are flowers arranged in the vases…)

Chou un: Welcome. Two customers have entered.

Employee: Oh, sorry. We haven’t opened yet~

Hm? Oh, it’s you, Hiroshi.

Daniel: Yo.

Momiji / Kaede: (Hmm… Daniel-san mentioned he’s on good terms with the owner here, but I guess it’s because he’s a regular?)

(And is this friendly and good-looking man the owner?)

Daniel: I was told I could come earlier next time, so here I am – I came before you opened.

Employee: Huh? That’s not what that means. I’m here being a bartender so I can meet some sexy gals. So, tell me, who’s gonna be happy seeing some middle-aged man with big pecs?

Daniel: That’s my line. You always move me somewhere else when female customers walk through the door. I wouldn’t mind shouting your nasty fetishes at the top of my lungs, you know?

Daniel & Employee: Hmph.

Employee: Anyway, here’s your starter – a tequila boom boom!

Daniel: You’re givin’ me a shot right from the get-go?

Employee: It’s all yours! I could even give you the whole bottle if you want to drink straight from that!

Momiji / Kaede: (They look like they’re pretty close…)

Chief, we’re still clocked in!

Daniel: Huh~? There’s a law that says you can drink during overtime, right?

Momiji / Kaede: That law doesn’t exist.

Employee: Aha! Hey, who’s this?

Momiji / Kaede: I’m Hamasaki. Pay me no mind.

🍁 Male protagonist (Kaede) route 🍁

Daniel: Pay me no mind? Man, you’re the one person I shouldn’t have brought to a bar.

Employee: This guy’s no fun~... I can’t believe you brought a guy over~...

Kaede: Is being a guy a bad thing?

Employee: It’s fine… customers are still customers, no matter the gender. I was just thinking how I don’t want any more scruffy and dirty things.

Kaede: (Is that the image I give off…?)

🍂 Female protagonist (Momiji) route 🍂

Employee: Hey, we’ve met each other on Mars before, haven’t we?

Momiji: Excuse me?

Employee: Nah, it’s fine. It’s all in the past. Let’s have a proper encounter on Earth this time.

Daniel: I don’t mind if you flirt, but don’t forget she works under me.

Employee: …Tsk. Your chaperone here is a bit big on the muscle side.

Employee: Hey, we’ve met each other on Mars before, haven’t we?

Momiji / Kaede: Excuse me?

Employee: Nah, it’s fine. It’s all in the past. Let’s have a proper encounter on Earth this time.

Daniel: I don’t mind if you flirt, but don’t forget they work under me.

Employee: …Tsk. Your chaperone here is a bit big on the muscle side.

Daniel: Oh, I forgot to mention but this guy’s–

Yun Yun: I’m Yun Yun. Nice to meetcha.

Daniel: Yun…? Okay? You’re going with that? Not that I mind.

Momiji / Kaede: Y–Yun Yun…-san. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Yun Yun: The pleasure’s all mine~

Daniel: By the way, where’s the owner?

Momiji / Kaede: Oh. You’re not the owner?

Yun Yun: Oh, no. Don’t lump me in with Yodaka-san. The owner’s the one lying over there.

Bar owner?: …… ……

Momiji / Kaede: (I didn’t even notice there was someone sleeping on the sofa…)

Daniel: Time to get to work, Manager. Mission No.1: “Wake ‘em up”.

Momiji / Kaede: Huh? What? You’d be the better option since you’re already acquainted with him, right?

Daniel: I’m gonna enjoy this glass as I wait. See ya.

Momiji / Kaede: ……

(Well, it’s just waking him up, so it should be fine.)

Bar owner: ……

Momiji / Kaede: (He’s sound asleep… I wonder if he’ll wake if I just shake his shoulder a bit.)

Um, please excuse me.

Bar owner: …… ……

Momiji / Kaede: (He’s saying something… in his sleep?)

(I can’t really hear it. I’ll get a bit closer…)

Bar owner: …More…

Open your mouth… Don’t let it… spill…

Momiji / Kaede: !?

P–Please wake up, Mr. Bar Owner! I have a feeling it’s a bad idea to say any more…!

Bar owner: Do it… better…

…Oh, I didn’t realise… you’ve gotten… so used… to it…

Momiji / Kaede: Whaa!

Yun Yun: Oh, they’re back.

Momiji / Kaede: Sorry, I didn’t manage to wake him up since he looked like he was having a really nice dream.

Daniel: What sorta dream was it for you to go red as a tomato?

Momiji / Kaede: I’m not red. It’s because of the lighting.

Yun Yun: Hiroshi~ Don’t bully your junior so much~

Momiji / Kaede: I completely agree.

Yun Yun: Ahaha! …So, what about Flower Laundry?

Daniel: We’ve got some business with the worker there. DIdn’t get to meet ‘em, though.

Yun Yun: Flower Laundry… that’s the florist slash laundromat that handles both of those lines of work, right? They must have a lotta deliveries to do, so if you don’t get your timing right, you probably won’t ever get to meet him.

Momiji / Kaede: (I guess that’s true… Actually, just earlier…)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Location: Flower Laundry – flashback

Sonia: Welcome.

Momiji / Kaede: (Wow, what a cute pet robot. It’s not rare for a shop to have a pet robot to help out and look after the shop while the owner’s gone.)

(But I wish our company could get one, too… Oh, but Shumai might get jealous.)

Is Nagi Hachinoya in?

Sonia: Nagi-san is currently out on a delivery. He said he would do the deliveries for both the flowers and laundry side of things.

Also, Nagi-san is a bit of a trouble magnet, so I’ve been told not to disclose when he’ll be back. My apologies.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Location: Ten Nights’ Dreams Bar

Bar owner: Why did you go to his store?

Momiji / Kaede: Huh!? Ah!? Whaa…!

Bar owner: Oh, I took you by surprise.

Momiji / Kaede: I–It’s because you suddenly whispered in my ear…!

Daniel: You better watch out – he’s the walking “Libido Switch man”. Pretty famous ‘round these parts.

Momiji / Kaede: L–Libi…?

Bar owner: Well, I haven’t heard that in a while.

Momiji / Kaede: That doesn’t add up seeing as you were mumbling about that stuff in your sleep…

Bar owner: In my sleep? I had a dream where my friend and I were eating a popsicle… It was orange and pineapple flavoured.

Momiji / Kaede: (Anyone would get the wrong idea with the words he said…!)

Yun Yun: Mornin’.

Bar owner: Mm, good morning. Chou un.

Chou un: Present.

Bar owner: Play some music that will be perfect for tonight.

Chou un: …Certainly. I shall play the playlist that’s based on “old memories”.

Momiji / Kaede: (The pet robot has a function to play music, huh… There’s a faint light emitting from the lantern – how pretty.)

Bar owner: What’s this?

Momiji / Kaede: Hm?

Bar owner: Would you like to place it in this vase? It looks like it wants some water.

Momiji / Kaede: Oh, you’re talking about this flower…?

Bar owner: That’s right. It must feel so lonely all by itself. It’s drooping a little.

Momiji / Kaede: Thank you. I was thinking of getting some water for it but I forgot I was still gripping it in my hand.

Excuse me, then. I’ll place the flower inside.

Bar owner: ……

Momiji / Kaede: Um…

Bar owner: …………

Momiji / Kaede: (H–He’s just staring at me. I wonder why.)

Bar owner: Have we met before?

🍁 Male protagonist (Kaede) route 🍁

Kaede: No, I’m pretty sure this is our first meeting…!

Bar owner: Really?

Kaede: Probably… uhh… your face is kind of close.

Bar owner: That’s because it is.

🍂 Female protagonist (Momiji) route 🍂

Momiji: (His face is so close…!)

No, I’m pretty sure this is our first meeting…!

Bar owner: Really? Those eyes… I remember them.

Yun Yun: Hey, I already used that line.

Bar owner: Oh, well.

By the way, have you ordered yet?

Yun Yun: They haven’t.

Daniel: Oh, sorry. I completely forgot.

Manager, I’ll treat ya so pick somethin’ to drink. Yodaka’s cocktails are great.

Momiji / Kaede: You hardly ever treat anyone. I’m really interested but we’re still working, and that means no alcohol.

Bar owner: How about a mocktail, then?

Momiji / Kaede: A mocktail?

Bar owner: It’s a non-alcoholic cocktail. Just wait a moment.

← Previous ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Index ≡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNext →

[j-eryewrites]

The Blind Banker (III)

Part 12 of the Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: Jealous Sherlock, Descriptions of strangling and breaking and entering, Sherlock is Sherlock, and if you squint some sherlock x reader stuff.

__________

Sherlock dragged Y/N along and practically shoved her onto the bus. All the seats were full, so the two of them were left standing in the aisle. Y/N’s jaw clenched as she harshly breathed in and out. Sherlock’s ever-looming figure stood over her. His hand still held hers. He hadn’t let it go and by the strength of his grip, he wasn’t going to any time soon. 

“You’re mad,” Sherlock said.

She turned around to glare at him. “Of course, I’m mad.”

“Why?” His blue eyes peered at her. He did her a favour, so why wasn’t she taking it? 

“You left John there, Sherlock. Your friend!” She rolled her eyes. “Every time, I think you're getting better. That you are opening up, then you go and do something like that.”

“I got you out of there,” he hissed into her ear. 

“I don’t care. You–we left John behind.” She exclaimed.

“John can take care of himself. Besides, the case is more important.”

She scoffed. “I don’t care if John can take care of himself. Don’t you get it, Sherlock?”

She looked up at him with pleading eyes. He only stared back with not a clue as to why she was mad. 

She lowered her gaze. “I’m done for the day. I can’t deal with you anymore.”

The bus came to a halt and their bodies swayed back and forth. Y/N lurched forward and ripped her hand out of Sherlock’s grasp. She pushed her way out of the bus and Sherlock stood there. His eyes followed Y/N as she stepped out onto the street. His growing gold from the missing warmth of her hand. Before Sherlock could chase after her, the bus kicked up and moved on. Sherlock could only watch her as her figure disappeared from view. 

_______

Sherlock pinched his nose. He needed to stop thinking about Y/N and her outburst. He was already feeling the beginnings of a migraine which began when she slammed the door shut after she finally returned to 221B. Just thirty minutes after he did. It took everything in him to stop himself from running down to her and apologizing. What for? He still didn’t know, but that wasn’t important. The case was. He removed his hand and examined the photos in front of him. The same hand that held hers. The sound of Y/N walking around in her flat downstairs echoed in his mind. 

Stop it, He told himself. 

There it is again. The slamming of a door, but it’s not Y/N. Heavy and angry steps proceed up the stairs and get closer and closer to Sherlock. 

“You’ve been a while,” Sherlock said. His eyes stuck to the pictures. 

Sherlock heard John pace around the room. John’s shoulders are rigid and his fists are clenched. He released them before closing them shut again. John’s face contorted as he strangled the air in front of him, hoping to release some of his pent-up fury.

“Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don’t really like to be hurried, do they?” His voice was tight. “Just formalities: fingerprints, charge sheet; and I’ve gotta be in Magistrates Court on Tuesday.”

“What?” Sherlock absently said. He did not hear a word that had left John’s mouth. 

“Me, Sherlock, in court on Tuesday,” John yelled. “They’re givin’ me an ASBO!”

“Good. Fine.” Sherlock hissed back. John’s voice bore the same tone as Y/N’s when she scolded him. 

“You wanna tell your little pal he’s welcome to go and own up any time,” said John.

“This symbol: I still can’t place it.” Sherlock brought his finger up to point at one of the images. Then he turned around and walked towards John. The man was shrugging off his jacket until Sherlock lifted it back onto his shoulders. 

“No, I need you to go to the police station …” Sherlock stated. 

“Oy, oy, oy!” John warned. “Why doesn’t Y/N go?”

“... ask about the journalist.” Sherlock continued. 

“Oh, Jesus!” John grumbled. “Why can’t Y/N go, Sherlock?” 

“She’s…” Sherlock paused. “Having a moment.” 

“She got mad at you, didn’t she?” John asked. 

Sherlock’s jaw clenched, “She’s having a moment.” His long arm reached out to grasp his coat from the coat hanger. As he swung it on, he instructed John, “His personal effects will have been impounded. Get hold of his diary or something that will tell us his movements.” 

Sherlock started to descend the stairs. John followed him with a smug look on his face. Y/N had gotten mad at Sherlock, and by the way, his friend was acting. She was really pissed. 

“Gonna go and see Van Coon’s P.A. If we retrace their steps, somewhere they’ll coincide.” Without another word, Sherlock opened the door to 221B and walked out onto the street. Sherlock did not even bother shutting the door. 

John watched the door swing on its hinges. Back and forth, just as his mind was going between his options. He could do as Sherlock has asked, or he could check up on Y/N, letting her know he was alright.  John gently closed the door shut. Then he turned around to face the door to Y/N’s flat. He looked up to the ceiling to contemplate the thought swirling around in his head. Raising a hand, he brought it to the door and knocked. The sound rang within the hollow material of the door. 

“Y/N? It’s John.”

The sound of the television buzzed off and light footsteps crept closer to the door. With a creak, the door swung open, and John caught sight of Y/N. She stepped back, welcoming him in. 

“Sorry about earlier,” she mumbled. “If I had known you weren’t able to run, I’d…” 

John stopped her. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault.”

She sighed. “I know, but I can’t help but feel like I’m a part of it.” 

She looked toward the ground where Bjørn stood. He purred happily at the sight of John. The brown cat’s fluffy tail wagged as he stepped closer and closer to John. 

“Hello there, Bjørn.” John cooed. 

He reached down to pat the cat.  Bjørn’s meows grew louder, and John chuckled. 

“He must really like that.”

“I just think he likes you,” Y/N said. There was a short silence before Y/N blurted, “...want some chocolate?”

John looked at her wide-eyed. “Where’d that come from?” He laughed. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Chocolate always makes me feel better. Thought you might like some to cheer you up.” 

“I'm fine, thanks.” He replied. 

She nodded and walked into her kitchen. Y/N pulled open a drawer and picked up a bar of chocolate. She peeled the wrapper and began to bite into it. She closed her eyes and quietly moaned at the taste. 

John rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“What?!” She said, “It’s good chocolate.”

“It must be really good if you practically moaned.” He chuckled.

“Oh, shut up,” she said in a teasing manner.

A silence fell over them as John pet Bjørn and Y/N munched away on her chocolate. John’s attention was soon drawn to the window. He saw cars and cabs drive by and he remembered what Sherlock had asked of him. He sighed. John didn’t want to help Sherlock at the moment, but he knew that it was important. However, John knew he didn’t have to do it alone. 

“Y/N?” John asked. “Mind coming with me to Scotland Yard?”

She shook her head. “No, John. I told Sherlock that I was done with him for the day.”

“Then you’d like to know, Sherlock won’t be there. Just me, you, and Dimmock.”

Y/N was quiet as she contemplated the offer. 

“We can stop at Speedy’s on the way,” John added.

Y/N groaned. “Fine, you got me.”

Then she left the kitchen and walked into her room. Soon she emerged with her coat and shoes in hand. She sat down at one of the counter chairs and slipped on her shoes. She jumped up and threw on her coat. 

“Be back Bjørn!” She waved. 

John opened the door for her and the two of them set off. As the two of them walked down the sidewalk, John noticed an older woman across the street. She was wearing a black tracksuit and sunglasses. He nudged Y/N’s shoulder and she turned to look. The woman across the street lifted her phone and it seemed as if she was taking a picture of them. Y/N narrowed her eyes, but a truck zoomed by blocking her view. By the time the car had passed her sight, the woman was gone. 

“Strange,” Y/N muttered. 

John shook his head in agreement. 

“Well,” She softly elbowed him. “You promised me Speedy’s.” 

John chuckled and nudged her back. The two sparked up a conversation as they strolled to Speedy’s. They took their time meandering along the way. Sherlock could wait, but their growing friendship couldn’t. 

____SHERLOCK’s POV_____

I’m back at the bank. It’s notoriously too loud here. How could anyone get any work done? I briskly walked through the rows of desks. Each person behind them repeated the same monotonous actions: The phone rings, they pick it up, they talk, the call ends, and they type away at the computer. As I looked around, I found at least fifteen people who were faking it. Their eyes scanned the same lines over and over, before looking down at their phones. 

My eyes catch sight of the woman’s blonde hair. Van Coon’s assistant. 

I leaned over her desk. She stared at me. 

“How can I help you?” She asked.

“Van Coon’s schedule from the past week,” I replied, flashing a fake smile. Smiling makes people more receptive to doing things for others. 

She nodded her head and began to type on her computer. I glanced down at her name tag: Amanda. 

“He flew back from Dalian on Friday last week,” she said. “Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team.” 

My eyes narrow. “Can you print me up a copy?”

“Sure,” she said. With a few clicks of a button, the printing machine next to her whirred to life. 

“What about the day he died?” I inquired. “Can you tell me where he was?”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed at the screen, and she shook her head. “Sorry. Bit of a gap.” 

The printer beeped and Amanda twirled around. She reached for the paper and handed it over to me. It was warm. Just like the papers Y/N printed out for me. I shook away the thoughts. Now was not the time nor the place. To distract my mind from the course it was set on, I examined the calendar in front of me. 

The calendar showed no entries for Monday the 22nd. I looked away, frustrated. A gasp escaped Amanda’s voice and peered down at her. 

“I have all his receipts,” she realized. “Would you like those printed out as well?” 

I nodded my head and waved her on. 

_____THIRD_____

Y/N and John took their time as they arrived at Scotland Yard. They finally had the time to catch up without Sherlock’s ever listening and condescending ears. Y/N chattered about Jim and all the dates he had taken her on. John mentioned something to her about wanting to meet him and she said she’d see if she could set something up. She also told John about a new trick she taught Bjørn. John’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized someone could teach cats tricks like a dog, but then Y/N pulled out a video of Bjørn sitting and rolling around on command. 

As they walked through Scotland Yard, John could see the shoulders of officers tensed up. They peered behind the two of them. Afterwards, their shoulders relaxed upon seeing there was no consulting detective following behind. Dimmock was among those people. Dimmock stood up from his desk and moved towards the two of them. 

“What’s it now?” Dimmock asked. 

“We need the journalist’s diary,” John told him. Dimmock nodded and called one of the officers to bring him the box of Lukis’ things. 

The officer quickly retrieved the box and placed it on Dimmock’s desk. With a thwack, the lid was lifted up off the box and placed to the side. Dimmock reached his hands into the box and rummaged around. Y/N and John stood across from him watching as possession after possession was placed outside the box. Still no journal. 

“Your friend …,” Dimmock hesitantly said. He looked up at Y/N and John. 

John sighed. Whatever he was feeling, he wasn’t alone in the thought. “Listen: whatever you say, I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

Dimmock’s eyes flicked between the two of them. Y/N nodded her head urging him on. “... he’s an arrogant sod,” Dimmock finished. 

“Well, that was mild!” John laughed. “People say a lot worse than that.”

“I could say a lot worse than that,” grumbled Y/N. She crossed her arms over her torso. 

Dimmock triumphantly cheered as his hand emerged from the box with a brown journal. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The journalist’s diary?” 

John nodded and took the journal from Dimmock’s hand. The pages are thick and well-inked. Page after page filled to the brim with scribbles of the deceased Journalist. Y/N leaned over and pointed toward a page that had been dog tagged. John opened it up and came to find that it was a boarding pass from Da Lian DLC [DaLian Zhoushuizi International Airport] to London LHR [London Heathrow Airport] on Zhuang Airlines.

“Might want to snap a picture, Y/N,” John advised. 

She looked down at her pockets and pulled out her phone. There was a flash and a photo had been taken. Y/N placed the phone back into her pocket. She looked back up at John, who flipped through the pages again. 

Maybe there was something in here that would be of use to Sherlock, he thought. 

____SHERLOCK’s POV______

I had instructed Amanda to lay out Van Coon’s receipts on her desk. I leaned over them taking my time to pay close attention to the date and location on the receipts. Amanda sat next to me. Her leg bobbed up and down in the most annoying manner. 

“What kind of a boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?” I said while I continued to look at the receipts. Amanda’s leg had stopped moving. I smiled. 

“Um, no. That’s not a word I’d use. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag,” She replied. 

I sighed. The font on the receipts is too small for even my eyes to see clearly. I kneeled down on the floor to allow myself easier access to them. Then I took my leather gloves off. In the corner of my eye, I saw a luxury hand lotion at the back of the desk. My eyes narrowed. 

“He bought that for you, didn’t he?” I asked. 

Amanda stopped fiddling with a green pin in her hair. She looked at me and her face flushed. I rolled my eyes and continued to shuffle through the receipts. My hands hovered over a particular receipt. I hastily picked it up and held it close. It was a receipt from a licensed taxi. Dated the day he died. 

“Look at this one. Got a taxi from home on the day he died. Eighteen pounds fifty,” I said. 

Amanda’s eyes pursed in thought. “That would get him to the office,” She noted. 

“Not rush hour; check the time. Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him as far as …” I ran through the map of London in my mind. 

“The West End. I remember him saying,” Amanda blurted. 

“Underground. Printed at one in Piccadilly,” I specified holding out the receipt for her to see.

“So, he got a Tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town and then the Tube back?” She pondered. 

I glanced back over the other receipts. “Because he was delivering something heavy. Didn’t want to lug a package up the escalator,” I mentioned. 

“Delivering?” 

“To somewhere near Piccadilly Station,” I clarified.  There was something here in the pile of receipts. My eyes widened and picked up another receipt. “Dropped the package, delivered it, and then stopped on his way. He got peckish.”

I quickly thanked Amanda as I pocketed the two receipts and made my exit from the bank. I hailed a cab and instructed it to take me to the restaurant Van Coon had stopped by. The cab was taking longer than it should have. Rush hour did not start for another…hour, I thought. I took in an impatient breath. My mind decided to take a liberty of its own, showing me, again, the last encounter I had with Y/N. My jaw clenched. Despite being the world’s only consulting detective, I could not find the source of her anger. The anger and the woman it came from remained a mystery in my mind. My eyes narrowed. I’d have to ask John. He’d know. 

“Here,” The cab driver said. He turned around in his seat and reached out his hand. I paid him and stepped out onto the street. I pulled out the receipt and examined it one more time. 

“So, you bought your lunch from here en route to the station, but where were you headed from? Where did the taxi drop you off...?”

I began to walk around in all different directions. My eyes cast above looking for something, some clue. I feel a thud against my back. I bounce off of the figure who just crashed into me, and I turn around to look at the culprit. It’s John. In his hands, he held the journal I had asked him to get. 

“Sherlock?” John said. 

I grunted in reply. A swish of fabric behind John caught my attention. Slowly, my eyes peered behind him and saw Y/N. Her eyes casted down, avoiding my gaze. 

____THIRD______

“Right. Of course, you’re here.” John mumbled. 

Sherlock tore his gaze away from Y/N. “Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died – whatever was hidden inside that case. I’ve managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information …”

“Sherlock …,” John said, looking between Y/N and his friend. 

“… credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here,” Sherlock continued. 

“Sherlock …,” John warned. 

“Somewhere in this street; somewhere near. I don’t know where, but …”

“That shop over there,” pointed out Y/N. 

For a moment, Sherlock’s face showed signs of surprise before forcefully turning towards the shop across the street. 

“How can you tell?” He pondered. 

“Lukis’ diary,” John replied. He lifted up the journal for Sherlock to see. “He was here too. He wrote down the address.”

“Oh,” was all Sherlock could muster. 

The three of them stood on the busy street. Passerbys moved around them as if they were a fork in the road. John looked back and forth between his friends. Y/N’s gaze was off in the distance. She still refused to look at Sherlock. 

“Y/N,” Sherlock began but he was silenced when she pushed through the crowd to cross the street. John shrugged at Sherlock before following his friend. Sherlock lingered there for a moment before chasing after them. 

________

The ever-apparent colour of red. Red as far as the eye could see. Red lanterns above, red decorations in the doors and windows, red doors, and even some red markings on the ground below them. Amongst the red, Sherlock’s eyes could catch glimpses of gold. It shimmered in the sunlight. 

The smells of freshly steamed rice and pork buns wafted through the air. Y/N’s stomach began to grumble. She’d have to make a stop to get some. She’d also gladly use the excuse to avoid Sherlock. She was determined for him to come to her this time. 

Preferably not by being carried out her front door swung over Sherlock’s shoulders, She thought. 

The three of them had reached the stop that was mentioned in Lukis’ journal. The Lucky Cat it was called. Y/N was the first to enter the tourist trap of a shop. The colour red also made an appearance as several shelves were the same vibrant red that could be found along the streets of Chinatown. Besides the apparent colour of red, there were cats. The store was filled to the brim with decorative cats sitting on their hind legs. One of their paws was high in the air swinging up and down. Their smiles made John uneasy. The shopkeeper came out from the back room and smiled at Y/N. 

”你好,” Y/N greeted. 

The shopkeeper smiled and complimented her Chinese. Sherlock and John both peered over at Y/N as she struck up a friendly conversation with the shopkeeper. Sherlock and John looked at each other, amazed at the hidden ability Y/N had. Y/N waved to the woman and turned back to her friends. 

“What?” She asked. 

“Nothing,” John replied. He then looked over her shoulder and greeted the shopkeeper himself. “Hello.”

The shopkeeper’s smile faded. “You want a lucky cat?”

“No, thanks. No.” John replied. 

“Ten pounds. Ten pounds!” The shopkeeper insisted. 

“No,” John replied. He began to profusely shake his hands. Y/N giggled at the interaction. John looked at her with wide eyes. “Mind helping me out Y/N?”

The shopkeeper took one look between John and Y/N. ``I think your wife will like it!” The Shopkeeper winked. 

John’s face grew red. “No, thank you,” He replied. 

Sherlock tensed behind him. His long finger gripped the clay statue tighter. John quickly turned away from the shopkeeper and picked up the nearest thing he could find. It was a small white tea cup. Y/N had come up next to John. She was still giggling. 

John sighed and gave her a side-eye. 

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t funny,” She muttered to him. She leaned into him.  “Come on hubby,” she teased.  

John rolled his eyes. “Screw off, Y/N.” 

He picked up another tea cup and turned it around. Underneath was a bright red price tag. On it were the same symbols that were covering their mirror back at home. 

John’s eyes widened. “Sherlock.”

Sherlock’s ear twitched at his name and he placed the statue back where he found it. He approached John, coming up behind Y/N so that her back was against his chest. She tensed at the sudden sensation of Sherlock behind her. Then Sherlock reached over her shoulder to pick up a teacup. 

“The label there,” John pointed. 

“Yes, I see it,” Sherlock said.

“Exactly the same as the cypher,” John continued. He turned to Y/N and had to take a second glance. Sherlock stood so close, John could swear the two of them had merged into one person. When he finally differentiated the two, John saw that her jaw was squeezed tight and her lips were pressed into a thin line. A shadow fell over her figure. John could practically see the anger seething from her body. Her eyes looked as if they were plotting Sherlock’s murder in great detail. 

“Y/N,” John blurted. The woman turned to him. The darkness faded from her eyes as she looked at him. 

“What?” Y/N asked. She lifted her foot slightly before bringing it down onto Sherlock’s foot. Her heel grinding into Sherlock’s toes. John caught a wince in his friend’s face before he stepped back from Y/N. 

John awkwardly cleared his throat. “What do these symbols mean?” He lifted the cup to her and she peered at them. 

She took it from his hands and ran a finger over the price tag. “This is the number 15,” She said. “It’s from the Hangzhou number system.”

Sherlock lifted his head and began to smile. The case was finally starting to come together. 

“These days, only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank and at the library,” Sherlock noted. He walked across the shop to pick up the statue he had been looking at earlier. Flipping it over he looked at the price tag. “Numbers are written in an ancient Chinese dialect.”

“What we thought was the artist’s tag – it’s the number fifteen,” John commented. 

Sherlock walked back over to John and Y/N, making sure to stay well without the woman’s comfort zone. “And the blindfold – the horizontal line?” He asked her. “That was a number as well.” 

Y/N thought back to the office and her original thoughts. “It’s the number one.” She blurted. 

“The Chinese number one,” Sherlock smiled. Y/N looked back down at the ground and his smile fell. 

“We’ve found it!” John cheered. His voice got quieter as he noticed the tension between Y/N and Sherlock had not been solved. 

Sherlock sighed in defeat before walking out of the store. John waited for Y/N, before walking out after Sherlock. The two of them step outside the door and see the same woman from before. She was still wearing the sunglasses from before. Slowly the woman raised her phone at them. Y/N stepped forward to get a better look but John pulled her back before a passerby knocked into her. 

“Careful there, Y/N,” John said. 

Y/N thanked him and looked back to where the woman stood. She was gone. Y/N frowned. John looked ahead at Sherlock who was pacing down the street. 

“Come on, Y/N.” He tugged at her jacket and the two of them set off after Sherlock. 

__________

The three of them were now sitting at the restaurant across from The Lucky Cat. John and Sherlock sat at a table together, and Y/N found an empty table which she took for herself. As far away as she could get from Sherlock, while still being able to see them and the shop. 

Sherlock glared at the empty seat between him and John before he yanked a napkin off the table. Pulling out a pen he wrote profusely on the surface. From what John could see, Sherlock was attempting to translate the number system. 

“What did you do? I’ve never seen her this furious with you,” John said. 

Sherlock scoffed before glancing over his shoulder to look at the woman of the hour. 

She sat in her seat and happily ate away at some dumplings. Occasionally, she’d chat with the waiter or a fellow restaurant guest. Most of which were fawning over her ability to commune in Mandarin. 

“Sherlock,” John grunted.

“I don’t know!” He yelled. A few of the guests around them turn their heads at Sherlock’s outbreak. 

“I don’t know. We were on the bus and she got mad at me for…” Sherlock’s eyes widened as he spoke. “I left you.” 

John rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “You just now realized that. Really, Sherlock?!” John began to laugh. It started light, then grew deeper and louder. “World’s only consulting detective and you just now noticed you left me behind?”

Sherlock stared blankly at John until his laughter died down. 

“Alright,” John said, regaining his composure. “Two men travel back from China. Both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium. What did they see?” 

“It’s not what they saw; it’s what they both brought back in those suitcases,” Sherlock stated. 

“And you don’t mean duty-free,” John noted. 

A waitress appeared behind Sherlock, holding a steaming plate of dumplings. She carried it over to Y/N’s table. The woman was surprised and shook her hands. The waitress leaned down and whispered in her ear before pointing over to John. John refocused his gaze. The waitress was pointing at Sherlock. Y/N looked up. Her eyes landed on Sherlock, and then she spoke to the waitress.

It wasn’t long before that same waitress approached John’s table. She placed the plate of dumplings in front of Sherlock. 

“She doesn’t want them.” The waitress stated. She shook her head in disappointment and walked off. 

John gasped. He looked from the food to Sherlock. Then his eyes moved from Sherlock to Y/N. He laughed. “Good luck, Sherlock. Doubt she’ll forgive you anytime soon.” 

Sherlock’s grip on his pen tightened. “You try. I’m sure she’ll talk to you. You’re her husband after all,” he sneered. 

John leaned in close to Sherlock. “Are you…jealous?” The great Sherlock Holmes, jealous of John Watson? What a day this was turning out to be. 

“Of course not.” Sherlock spat a little too quickly. 

John’s eyes narrowed on his friend, looking him up and down. He chuckled lightly to himself. “She’ll forgive you. You just have to show her you mean it.” John replied. “Just don’t throw her over your shoulder again.” 

Sherlock nodded his head taking in John’s words. “Enough about Y/N. Think about what Sebastian told us; about Van Coon – about how he stayed afloat in the market.”

“Lost five million …” John began. 

“... made it back in a week.” Sherlock finished. “That’s how he made such easy money.”

“He was a smuggler!” John exclaimed.

The dumplings meant for Y/N were no longer steaming. John picks up his fork and sticks it in the golden exterior before plopping it in his mouth. 

“A guy like him – it would have been perfect. Businessman...making frequent trips to Asia. And Lukis was the same. A journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff out, and the Lucky Cat was their drop-off.” Sherlock said. 

“But why did they die? I mean, it doesn’t make sense. If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they’d finished the job?” John questioned. 

Sherlock leaned back in his chair. His eyes pursed in thought as if he was a cat going into stalk mode. 

“What if one of them was light-fingered?” He mumbled.

“What d’you mean?” John asked mid-bite. 

“Stole something; something from the hoard.” 

John nodded his head following Sherlock's gist. “And the killer doesn’t know which of them took it, so he threatens them both. Right.”

Sherlock looked across the street. His gaze flew up and then back down. John watched as his blue eyes subtly darted in Y/N’s direction before returning to the table. 

“Remind me ...when was the last time that it rained?” Sherlock asked. Without waiting for John to reply, Sherlock stood up from his seat and excused himself from the restaurant. John sighed. He looked at the dumplings and Sherlock’s retreating figure. He looks at Y/N, who nods in understanding. Dutifully, the two of them leave the restaurant and follow after Sherlock. 

______

Y/N sighed as she trudged back over to The Lucky Cat. Sherlock sat crouched over a package in front of someone’s apartment to the right of the store. He was running his hands over the wet plastic surface and the exposed yellow pages. 

“Sherlock, what are you doing,” heaved Y/N. “John and I were enjoying a perfectly good dum…”

“It’s been here since Monday,” Sherlock stated, cutting Y/N off. 

He straightened up and stared at the woman. “You can go back to your dumplings. John and I have no use for you anymore.” 

Y/N scoffed. “Right, 'cause that’s why I couldn’t leave for a date with my boyfriend.” 

Sherlock grimaced. “You said you were done with me for the day. So am I.” 

“Fine. I’m leaving.” With a turn of her heel, she began to march away. Sherlock rolled his eyes and caught her wrist, pulling her back. 

“I thought you said you have no use for me.” She said glaring at his hand wrapped around her wrist. 

Y/N looked towards John. “Want to help me out here?”

He just shook his head. 

“Alright!” Sherlock was exasperated. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” She urged. 

“What?” 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“I…” Sherlock glanced at John for some help. “I don’t know.”

“Sherlock the great Holmes doesn’t know,” She exclaimed sarcastically. Sherlock just looked at her with pleading eyes. Y/N’s jaw clenched as she looked to the side. “Fine. You still owe me an actual apology, the same goes for John.” 

Sherlock reluctantly released her wrist, still scared she’d run the minute he’d let go. When she stood her ground, he smiled to himself before buzzing the doorbell to the apartment they stood at. 

Ring. There was no answer. Ring. Sherlock buzzed the bell again. There was no sound. No movement behind the door. Nothing. 

“No one’s been in that flat for at least three days,” confidently stated Sherlock.

“Could’ve gone on holiday,” John suggested. That was a normal thing people did, something Sherlock wasn’t particularly fond of. 

“D’you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?” Sherlock asked. Y/N shook her head. 

Then Sherlock darted to the side and entered an alleyway. He was approaching the back of the building. Trash and litter were scattered all over the street. Most of it was brushed to the sides, making it easier for the three of them to navigate through. 

Sherlock came to a halt and looked up. Above him was a silver-tinted metal fire escape. There were small signs of rust in the corners where the steps met the sides of the ladder. Sherlock looked behind him and backed up like a runner preparing for a head start. Then he dashed forward, jumped up, and reached the ladder, successfully yanking it down to the ground. He begins to climb the ladder, leaving John and Y/N behind, still amazed as to how he had the agility to pull off such an act. 

John stepped forward to grab onto the ladder as Sherlock stepped inside the apartment. The ladder shot out and sprang back up into place. It now towered over John and Y/N just out of reach. 

“Sherlock!” John yelled. He turned to Y/N, “I’m heading to the front, hopefully, this time he’ll let us in.”

Y/N nodded before looking back up at the ladder. She was sure she could reach it, however, she wasn’t as tall as Sherlock, so she’d really have to jump. 

“I’m going to see if I can get the ladder back down,” Y/N explained. “If not I’ll meet you at the front.” 

John looked at his friend and then at the ladder. “You can try,” He murmured before leaving Y/N in the alley. 

Like Sherlock, Y/N looked behind herself. She walked back and stood a few feet farther than where Sherlock began. She took a deep breath and glanced up at the ladder. There was a part of her determined to do anything Sherlock could do, and then there was another part that told her she’d fall flat on the ground. Y/N looked around one last time. If she did fall, at least there wouldn’t be any spectators. 

Then, she darted towards the latter, jumping at the last second. Her arms reached their full extent. Her hand came in contact with the bottom step of the ladder. Upon feeling the cold wet surface, she closed her hands and yanked down the ladder with as much force as she could muster. 

When the ladder hit the ground with a thud, she cheered aloud and called out to John, but he was too far away to hear her. Y/N shrugged and began to climb up the steps and into the apartment after Sherlock. 

_______

Sherlock successfully climbed through the window and plopped down into the kitchen. It was well-kept. Dishes were put away. As Sherlock stepped further into the room, his ears processed a thud, quickly shot his hand out to grasp the falling vase before it hit the floor. After carefully putting it back down, Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. There was a dark spot on the rug exactly where the vase would have fallen. His eyes widened. 

“Someone else has been here!” He called out the window. His eyes were still glued to the wet spot on the carpet. 

Then, Sherlock trod carefully around the room. His eyes bounced off the walls like a ball, as he muttered to himself. “Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase just like I did.”

His feet took him into the kitchen, where he found the washing machine. The door hung slightly ajar and was filled to the brim with clothing. Sherlock grabbed an article of clothing before giving it a sniff. He crinkled his nose and plopped the shirt back into the machine. 

There was a buzzing from downstairs. The doorbell, Sherlock noted. 

“D’you think maybe you could let me in this time?!’ John shouted from outside. His voice sounded muffled through the walls. 

Sherlock ignored his friend’s request as he tip-toed around the rest of the room. 

Outside the flat, John sighed. He took notice of Y/N’s absence. If she did find a way in, she’d let him in, John thought. However, until then, he’d keep yelling at Sherlock. John lowered his head to the letter slot in the door, creaked open the tiny entrance, and in his loudest voice called out to Sherlock. 

“Can you not keep doing this, please?” John pleaded.

Sherlock was now sifting through the fridge. His eyes land on a pint of milk. He took it out, gave it a sniff, and coughed from the pungent smell before slamming it back into the fridge. 

“I’m not the first!” He called out to John again. 

“What?” Y/N asked. 

Sherlock jumped out of his skin. Her voice so quietly sneaked up behind him. He whipped his head around to find her sitting on the window ledge. She was still trying to swing one of her legs into the room. Sherlock sighed in relief. 

“Somebody’s been in here before me.” He repeated. He watched as her face squinted in determination, finally entering the apartment. She was out of breath. Her face was red from the exercise. She stepped forward and Sherlock’s eyes darted to the vase. “Watch out for…” It was too late. The vase fell to the floor. “The vase.” 

Y/N winced at the noise. “Sorry.” She whispered to him. 

“What are you saying?!” John yelled again. The two of them couldn’t hear him. 

As Y/N placed the vase back onto the table, Sherlock retrieved a magnifier from his pocket examining a footprint he noticed on the floor. The intruder had left a scuff mark and from the size of it, Sherlock determined it belong to a size eight foot. 

Outside on the street, John groaned his head thudded against the door. With the noise of the street, he couldn’t make out anything Sherlock had said. John peaked around the corner of the building and found Y/N to be missing. She was inside, he thought. John, rejuvenated with energy began to push at the doorbell. 

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

“That’ll be John,” muttered Y/N. She pushed by Sherlock and walked through the beaded curtain. Sherlock followed her. 

“Where are the stairs?” She whispered to herself as she walked back through the apartment. 

Sherlock had occupied himself with other footprints he had found on the floor. His steps followed closely to where the intruder had stepped. 

“Small, but ... athletic,” Sherlock murmured. He passes by a table and sees a framed photo. He straightened up and peered down at the photo. 

There were two small children- a young boy and a girl. They sat next to each other, smiles as wide as their small faces would go. Sherlock turned the photo to the light and caught a glimpse of a handprint. It was placed over the young girl in the photo. 

“Small, strong hands,” Sherlock noted. 

“Sherlock,” Y/N called. “Where are the stairs? I going to go let John inside.”

“Just to the left of the bedroom,” he said. Y/N nodded and left to go and let John inside. 

Sherlock glanced around the room one last time. His eyes landed on the open window in which he came through. 

“Our acrobat,” Sherlock frowned. “But why didn’t he close the window when he left ...?” 

Sherlock stopped. He could hear Y/N’s steps retreating down the stairs. Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Oh, stupid. Stupid. Obvious. He’s still here!” He exclaimed.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a folding screen. It was ornately decorated and had a few stray clothing items hung over it. It stood next to the bed in the bedroom. Sherlock’s eyes never left the screen as he pocketed his magnifying glass and stalked toward the screen. He reached out his right hand bringing it closer and closer to the screen. His fingers met wood and he yanked it back. He pursed his lips at the sight of two stuffed animals. They stared directly into his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a flash of white and Sherlock could no longer breathe. The intruder had collided with a long white scarf around Sherlock’s neck, squeezing it tightly. Sherlock fumbled as he tried to fight his opponent. The two of them backed into the wall.  

____

Y/N had found the stairs with ease and was making her way down, step-by-step. She had heard Sherlock mutter something as she walked down but ignored it. John heard her steps down the stairs. 

“Any time you want to include me,” John said. 

“Coming,” She sang as she reached for the lock. 

“Y/N!” John cheered. He heard one lock release. 

As Y/N began to unlock the second lock on the door, she heard a thud from above. Then more sounds. 

Her eyes widened. 

“Sherlock!” Y/N squeaked. She only heard more muffled banging. 

“Y/N?” John questioned. “What’s wrong?”

Immediately she ran back up the stairs. John only heard her vacating footsteps and groaned again. 

“Perfect. Left again,” John grumbled to himself.  He waved his hands in a mocking manner, his voice impersonating Sherlock’s. “No, I’m Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no one else can compete with ...”

John stormed to the letterbox and flipped it open.  “... my MASSIVE INTELLECT!”

____

Sherlock’s vision was dimming as his lungs fought for air. His hands fell just short of the attacker behind him. His attacker swung him to the side, allowing Sherlock to see a glimpse of Y/N. Her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. 

Sherlock couldn’t voice any words, but he tried to tell her to stay back. He couldn’t let her get hurt. He had to protect her. He tried to hit his attacker, but he had no more strength. His eyes went dark, and he fell limp. 

The attacker released his hold on the scarf and took a step toward Y/N. Her back hit the wall behind her. Her body sank to the floor. Every inch of her skin trembled. In the distance, there was another buzz of the doorbell. The masked intruder stopped his approach and then darted towards the window. He leapt out and disappeared amongst the rooftops of Chinatown.

Y/N ran to the window and shut it with a slam. She tried to take in a deep breath but failed as soon as she remembered Sherlock. She ran over to Sherlock’s unconscious body and fell beside him. Her hands shook him awake. 

“Sherlock!” She cried. 

Sherlock’s lungs welcomed the air and his eyes regained focus and that’s when he saw her. Y/N now hovered over him. Her hands held his cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted and shaking. Her eyes held fear in them. She was afraid. 

His eyes softened at the sight of her. She’s okay, thought Sherlock. He tried to raise a hand to hold her but his body was too weak. His muscles now remembered what it was like to have a constant flow of oxygen. 

John buzzed the doorbell again. 

Suddenly, a tightness formed in the back of Sherlock’s throat. He quickly sat up and coughed. He tugged at the scarf from around his neck and cast it to the side. He tried to stand up but a wave of dizziness hit him. His arms clasped onto the nearest thing in order to steady himself. He felt a warmth cover his hand. He looked down and saw that he was holding onto Y/N. 

“Sherlock?” Y/N’s voice faltered. “Are you alright?”

He nodded his head. His voice still comes back to him. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” Sherlock wheezed. He brought a hand to his chest. His blue eyes captured the sight of Y/N once again. “Don’t tell John.”

“But he’s a doctor, you should have him make sure you’re alright,” Y/N argued. 

“No. I don’t need John or anyone to worry over me. I’m fine.” 

___

Downstairs, John looked at his watch in annoyance. He shook his head and looked around. He very well considered leaving Sherlock and Y/N to their own devices. 

A few moments later, the front door swings open. John rolled his eyes in an exasperated expression. He glared at Sherlock. 

“The, uh, milk’s gone off and the washing’s starting to smell. Somebody left here in a hurry three days ago,” Sherlock croaked. 

John widened his eyes at his friend’s voice. It sounded like he was hit with a bad case of the flu and hung over from a night on the town. 

“Somebody?” John asked. He looked at Y/N who appeared behind Sherlock. His eyes made a motion as if he was asking what happened with Sherlock. 

Y/N acknowledged John but returned her gaze to Sherlock. 

John pursed his lips. Y/N was now looking at Sherlock. John looked closer at the two of them. He noticed how Y/N hovered close behind Sherlock. John concluded that the two of them made up in some way. His brown eyes trailed over Sherlock who was now adjusting the collar of his shirt. There were pink and red markings all over Sherlock’s neck.

“Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her,” Sherlock said. His hoarse voice broke John’s train of thought. 

Sherlock looked down at his feet and caught sight of something new. A white envelope. 

“But how, exactly?” John questioned. 

Sherlock picked up the envelope and turned it around. It read: 

___

SOO LIN, 

Please ring me and tell me you’re OK.

 Andy

NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES MUSEUM

____

Sherlock shoved the envelope in John’s hands. “Maybe we could start with this.” He coughed. 

“You’ve gone all croaky. Are you getting a cold?” John wondered. 

“I’m fine,” Sherlock muttered. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what the marks on your neck are telling me,” John mentioned.

Y/N's face went slack and Sherlock’s eyes pinched shut. John shot accusatory Y/N and Sherlock a look. 

Y/N blurted, “John, it’s not like that. Sherlock was st…”

“Y/N” Sherlock coughed. “Don’t.”

She lowered her eyes to the ground. 

“I’m fine, John,” Sherlock repeated. His voice slowly regained its composure. 

John looked between his friends one more time. There was something going on and he was determined to figure it out. John looked down at the envelope in his hands. He’d have to wait for answers, but until then, it appeared to John that the three of them would have to visit the Museum again. This time, John intended to not be left behind and caught red-handed.

____

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____

[fe-fictions]

Pls sir can I have some Gaius angst crumbs?

(Sure...!!! I've got some Gaius comforting Robin with some self worth concerns ;; U ;; )

He caught you staring at yourself in the mirror several times in the last few days. The problem was that he didn’t get why.

Gaius would wake up to get ready for his work in the castle (head pastry chef?? The best job in the world???), and found you glaring at your reflection. Getting ready to go to market, you were fiddling with your hair, muttering about how uneven it was when you tied it back (in what way?)

Then came the comments about noblewomen. Especially the noblewomen. You would go on about how their waists were so skinny and their chests were so “high up”. He was rather perplexed, at first, until he started to piece together what you were doing. 

You were comparing yourself to them. The most powerful woman in Ylisse (physically, magically and mentally), and you were comparing yourself to other people.

Color him shocked.

He wasn’t sure how to handle it, but he was rather confused by it more than anything else. In his eyes, you were flawless. What was it that you were so self conscious about?

Gaius knew this sort of thing could be a delicate issue, but he also knew that nothing would get solved if he didn’t ask you about it head-on.

He waited until there was an evening before bed, just after your (shared) bath together. You were both breathless, flushed and happy as could be, but on your way to dress for the night, you stopped in front of the mirror.

Again, you were staring at yourself.

“Sorry about that, Bubbles-” He grinned to himself, “Left a few more marks on ya than I meant to. No hard feelings, right?”

“Well…” You trailed off, paying absolutely no attention to your husband. He glanced back at you, his sleeping clothes half on. 

You had that look in your eyes. The kind that suggested you were displeased...but something told him it wasn’t because of his mischief.

“Robin.” 

You hummed, not looking at him. He rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, Bubbles- snap out of it.” He tugged the drawstrings of his pants, the soft fabric billowing around him as he strode to your side. His arms closed around your waist and he pulled you into his chest, your back to him. 

You only reacted when he nipped your ear. 

“G-Gaius! What’re you doing?”

“You’re thinkin’ about how you’re not pretty, aren’t you?” 

“What?!” 

“C’mon, I can see it in your eyes. You’re upset about how you look and you’re stewin’ about it over here. I’ve noticed it’s been goin’ on for a while. You wanna talk to me about it?”

Your lips pursed, expression morphing into something much more rtoubled. Your hands fell over his, looking at your husband through the mirror. His chin settled on your shoulder, waiting for an explanation.

“Look, it’s...not that I don’t think I”m pretty.”

“No?”

“I know I’m pretty...a little bit.” You added, chewing your lip. “I..just...don’t think I’m pretty enough.”

“The hells?”

“I-I mean, look at Cordelia, or Sumia, or Maribelle!1 They’re all noble, they’re all beautiful, and they hold up so well in court or in council meetings- they look so effortlessly gorgeous! I mean, with the makeup and their dresses, and the corsets...I can’t bear to do any of that stuff- it’s so restricting and I know I won’t look half as beautiful as they do, but-”

“All right, all right- I get it. Hush up.” He nipped your ear again, drawing a squeak. He grinned. “Babe, you’re not givin’ yourself enough credit. You’re gorgeous. I wouldn’t have married you if you weren’t such good eye candy.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Okay, okay. Bad joke.” He laughed, “But I’m serious. You’re beautiful just the way you are. You know why all those other women have to use makeup and all that other crap to look good? Because they’re not nearly pretty enough to go out without it.”

“Gaius, we’ve both seen those girls without any makeup on. They look flawless with or without. The other stuff just makes them look even better.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. You don’t need any of that stuff. You never have. If you don’t believe me, I will drag you back into that tub and prove it.”

“I’m being serious, Gaius!”

“So am I.” He countered, and turned you around in his arms. He looked at you straight on, his lips fixed in a thin line and looking...borderline angry with you. “Do you not believe me when I tell you you’re beautiful? That you’re perfect, and flawless, and the most amazing woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on?”

“I-I…” 

“I love you just as you are, baby. That’s never gonna change. Who cares if they’re pretty. You’re pretty, too. Beyond pretty. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on...and I bake the most gorgeous cakes you have ever seen.”

You giggled softly, your smile betrayed by the tears gathering in your eyes. 

“You really...you think so?”

“I do.” He nodded, brushing his thumb under your eye, wiping away the little droplets. “You are so beautiful, Robin. You’re incredibly intelligent, an amazing fighter, and you have a body that refuses to quit. Nobles be damned, if I had to choose between some stuffy chick with a powdered wig who stuffs her fat in a corset and this river of chocolate before me...I think the answer is clear.”

“I thought I was an ocean of cream.” 

“You’re both.” He grinned at you, and kissed your nose. “You know that, right? Do you believe me?”

Your sigh was shaky, but your smile was genuine. “...I...I do.” 

“Good.” His lips touched yours, then, wrapping you up tight and holding you flush to his bare chest. Your arms slipped around his neck, deepening the kiss that you desperately needed. Gaius was happy to oblige, of course. 

You broke away with a gasp, your cheeks red all over again and your husband looking mighty pleased with himself. With a bashful smile you looked away, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I...might need you to remind me every now and again, though…”

“Yeah?” He squeezed you, “I’ll tell you as often as it takes. No matter how many reminders you need, sweetheart. I’ll tell ya til you’re sick of hearin’ it.”

You beamed at him, whispering your thanks against his lips. For the first time in a while, you felt much better. Gaius was a sneak, a thief, and a selfish little brat when he wanted to be. But one thing he never was since your marriage...was dishonest.

If he thought you were beautiful, so could you. 

Though you did need a few more kisses to prove it.

[newsie-collective]

Nick "Mush" Meyers

Quickfire Favorites

Food: “Anythin’ I can get me hands on.”

Color: “Green! ‘S tha cola’s of all the trees ‘n stuff when me ‘n Blink ‘n Tommy ‘n Specs have picnics!”

Season: “Spring! ‘S perty when we’s goin’ out!”

Weather: “Sunny! ‘S real nice when it’s sunny! There’s mo’ people to sell to!”

Hobby: “Visitin’ wit’ Clara at the snowglobe shop!”

Animal: “Frogs! Snails! Both ‘s good! I don’ like touchin’ ‘em but they’re real neat to look at.”

Memory: “Givin’ Kloppman the snowglobe after the strike!”

Comfort Item: “All me snowglobes. They make me feel real good ‘n they help me feel bett’a after a long day.”

He was missing most of his teeth when he made it to the lodge house (lucky for him they were all baby teeth), earning him the name Mush (both because of his lisp and the way his mouth looked after getting soaked for being in the wrong place at the wrong time)

Doesn’t talk all that much now because of this

He’s never known his family. He was on the streets as long as he could remember before moving into The Lodge™️

He’s the muscle of the Manhattan newsies. He’s originally from Harlem, but too many people knew him there (even if he didn’t know them) so he had to get a new selling spot, and he moved to Manhattan. 

Honestly, Manhattan is so diverse because they’re all adopted in from other boroughs. Like, they’re just a melting pot of New York.

He’s such a light sleeper

Also takes up the entire bed, and whoever he’s cuddling with either has to lay on top of him or beneath him

He's also an early riser, and his usual bunkmates (Tommy, Specs, and Blink) really aren't

He’s really protective of his friends. And even more of his partners. If someone gets sick, he will too. Because he will coddle them until they both get over it.

He would give extra papers to his partners (yes with an S. Mush loves so hard there’s no way he isn’t poly. More on that in a different post, once we start doing relationship analyses) if they were selling well, and would offer to help if they were struggling

Loves karaoke night at Medda’s

Terrified of bugs, especially moths and butterflies.

No one knows this

(Everyone knows but they all pretend not to bc Mush is super embarrassed by it)

Has scars all over from fights and such

HE LOVES SNOWGLOBES. IT’S THE ONLY THING HE COULD ALWAYS GET THE OTHERS TO LEAVE ALONE. AND HE WAS SO HAPPY THEY RESPECTED THAT

He made friends with Clara, the lady who sells the snowglobes. It's this nice little stained glass shop, and the snowglobes just caught Mush's eye one day.

He went inside, absolutely awestruck by them, and absolutely devastated that he could never even come close to affording one. But, they were too pretty to just leave. So, he slipped the smallest one in his pocket, but he isn't as sneaky as the others (he's got a really low dex score, lbr) and gets caught before he's even left the aisle.

Dude he is terrified when the owner rounds the corner with a glare, and he just knows he's getting sent to the Refuge for this.

He puts the snowglobe back on the shelf and is apologizing as much as he can as fast as he can and begging her not to say anything. Pleading with her not to call the bulls on him.

She knows he's a newsie, and they aren't normally allowed near her shop, much less inside, but Mush is just so adorable and she can tell he feels bad about it.

She offers him a deal. 

She will give him a snowglobe for each odd job he does (explaining very carefully that the bigger ones will need more than one job done)

And Mush is just head over heels in love with this idea. 

The newsies don't ask where his massive collection of snowglobes is coming from. Or where he disappears to every night.

She makes him a special snowglobe commemorating the strike once they've finished and won, and that's the only one he doesn't keep. 

He gives it to Kloppman.

Who promptly puts it on his desk because he wants everyone to know that those were his boys.

Has worked security at a number of places, especially after people realized that all it would take would be a snowglobe. But, the glass store owner taught him a lot about his worth, and won't do a job unless he's rewarded well enough for it.

That's why he was so hesitant on doing the strike. He was too uncertain of the reward for the massive risk they were taking.

He stopped in the glass shop in Harlem while he was out there recruiting newsies asked her opinion, and she told him that he should follow his heart. 

And when he told her he was going to go through with the strike, she gave him the big snowglobe he'd been eyeing since the first day he went in there (she'd kept from selling it just for him, but didn't tell him that until he went and visited her after the strike was settled) for good luck.

Is really good with the younger kids, and really enjoys hanging out with them, because they're easier to understand than adults with big emotions (and he also likes knowing more than someone for once, and likes teaching them new things)

Can absolutely make flower crowns and loves going to Central Park to make them

He really loves love. Like he used to get puppy crushes worse than Romeo. And he would fall so hard.

He eventually grew out of his puppy crush phase, but he stayed in love with love. He likes seeing all of his friends happy together.

The cuddliest cuddler to ever cuddle

He's a lot like Finch in the way that he doesn't care how he's laying with his cuddle partner. He just really really likes physical touch-like to the point where the others get annoyed with him. It's the way he shows his love.

It's been really toned down since he was younger, because the other boys used to get frustrated and tell him off for being too much. 

He's very insecure about it

He's very trusting. He trusts too easily, which is odd because he's one of the oldest newsies, and no one expects him to be this trusting but this boy does not know how to stop it

He's forgiven the Delancey brothers because they weren't much older than some of the older newsies, and they were being exploited and used, and Mush can't really hold that against them. 

He forgave Cowboy, didn't he?

He's so easily excited by the simplest things. Like he gets so excited so fast about things that are small.

Would totally be in those tiny things Facebook groups

Blush things:

He'd been at the Newsboy Home for ages and this mean dude with an eyepatch just showed up and started acting an ass and scaring the younger kids. 

He told Blink to either get his shit together or get out.

He found Blink outside after curfew that night with some shady guys.

And he just picks Blink up (after slapping a few guys around) and carries him to the lodge house. 

Because it's too fucking much to try and talk to him. He just lays him in a bed and tells him that if he's not in the house in the morning he'd have made his choice and to not come back because he doesn't have enough mental space to be worried about this new kid who doesn't even want to follow the few rules there are. 

And Blink's just like 'You're ;worried about me?  😏'

Mush decks that motherfucker. 

Just one good hit. 

And he went to bed.

The next morning, the bed was empty, and so was Elmer's. 

Mush went looking for Elmer, and found him and Blink cuddling on the couch.

He woke them up trying to figure out why they had to cuddle out in the living room, and the only response he got from Blink was "If i have to follow curfew, so does he"

He and Blink kind of became children wranglers after that. Not necessarily babysitting them, but making sure everyone was inside before  the door was locked, or Kloppman wouldn't get any sleep waiting up for them.

After he and Blink calmed down around each other, they actually became best friends, and eventually more than that.

Like slow burn turned up to 11. Like boil the frog kind of fucking slow.

It took them forever

Mush told Blink (while teaching him how to be less violent) to smack him when he felt like beating people up. 

It eventually turned to affectionate paps to the cheek like the one in the beginning of 92sies (which actually happened not long after Blink mellowed. He would still have some violent spells, like almost going after Crutchy in the beginning of the movie, when Mush stepped in)

Italian food 🤤

He really likes going into libraries for two reasons:

1) The endless shelves to wander through and get lost in leave him awestruck every time

2) There's usually a corner with just enough space for him to curl up and nap in

He's so good at hide and seek. At least the seeking part. He's practically hunting the hiders. It's honestly terrifying.

Really good with remembering the names and patterns of constellations, but cannot for the life of him remember where they are in relation to each other, and can only find really famous constellations like Orion and Ursa Major

Mush!! My sweet boy!!! I love him sm. He deserves everything 🥰

He's so freaking cute

👻

[sarah-sandwich-writes]

Find the Vibe Tag Game!

My vibe was "Go ahead, make me," and I was tagged by @xansmenagerie a small eternity ago. I don't know why it won't let me tag you but if you see this thanks!! This is from Blue like don't forget about me and I just wrote it last night so kindly look away from all the typos I can't see yet.

Teddy scrubs his hands against his thighs, then stuffs them in his armpits as his breath fogs in front of him. The moon is a faint crescent and the stars are washed out by the city lights but the wind is strong here on the pier and that’s all that matters tonight.

“That one.” He jerks his chin at a large rock sucked deep into the mud. “As far as you can.”

“I can’t pick that up.”

“Try.”

Nash turns to face him with flashing eyes and teeth bared. “When are y’all gonna tire on givin’ me orders. I am goddamn sick—,”

“That’s perfect. Hang onto that and throw the fucking rock.”

“Go to hell.”

“Excellent. Now, the rock.”

“How ‘bout I throw you instead?”

Teddy ticks his head. He’s not a great swimmer but he could probably—

“Lord, I ain’t throwin’ you out there. Quit with that look.”

Teddy shrugs. “Whatever, man. It’s your choice: me or the rock.”

“Oh do I get choices now?”

“Just this once.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. The fire in Nash’s expression wavers and then snuffs out. Gone. Like smoke. Instead of embracing his anger and venting it like Teddy wanted, Nash folds his arms atop the railing and shifts his weight to his good hip. The river crashes against the legs of the pier and slops up near their feet.

“When’s this gonna be over, Ted? I’m tired. I wanna go—,” He bites down on the end of his sentence and drops his chin atop his arms. He sighs. “Never mind.”

Teddy steps up onto the lower rung of the railing and peers down at the dark rush of water below. “It ends when we end it. There’s no other way around it. You know that.”

“Yeah.” He burrows deeper into the knit sweater he “borrowed” from the apartment. “I know.”

Teddy plays with his bracers. They feel natural on his wrists now. He never takes them off except to shower. He feels oddly light without them.

Tink tink tink— he builds up a charge and feels the energy build inside of him. He channels it, corrals it down into his hand and then into his finger until it’s a hot throbbing ball at the very end of his pointer finger. He points it at a buoy in the distance and says, “Pew.”

It disrupts the air with a warble as it launches from his finger in a brilliant burst of blue and then smacks into the water just to the left of the buoy.

“Someone is going to see.”

“Let ‘em.” Tink ,tink, tink. “Why should I hide?”

“Because you’re a criminal? Because powerful people out there want you dead?”

Teddy hums and fires his second shot. Too high, it sails over the top and hits the water with a splash. “I’m a powerful person.”

In silence, he readies his third shot, fires, and curses as it goes wide yet again.

Nash sighs. Then the wind whips around them, stronger and stronger until there’s a wet sucking sound and the rock rips up out of the sand, turns end over end, then rockets into the buoy—a direct hit.

“Asshole.” He steps down off the railing. Ting, ting ting. “Lucky shot.” He readies another energy blast, fires, and is finally rewarded with a sparking collision.

“I’ll show you luck.” Another rock rips up out of the surf and tumbles oblong and awkward through the air, but it hits the buoy dead on.

“Three times or it doesn’t count.”

They abuse the buoy until they’re both sagging under the strain and then a little longer after that. Nash manages to sling a rock in front of Teddy’s blast and it explodes in a firework of blue light that throws Nash’s victorious whooping into sharp relief and Teddy realizes that they’re all liars. Everyone who ever said time heals all things lied because he’s just as in love as he was six years ago. Maybe more.

Tagging: @sithbelle @harlstark @harleyification @keenerkey @sender-paulson aaaaandd everyone on blue's taglist! @wildswrites @themundanemudperson @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @theirtheretheyre @plonccc @thedumbestavenger @yors-truly @thephoenixandthecrocodile @cljordan-imperium @writeblrvotes

Your vibe is, "Who did this."

[sky-squido]

hey important question:

would people actually be interested in reading a fic where wind and legend bond very wholesomely (literally starting out hating each other but then they get really close and it’s adorable) but also i shamelessly explain the entirety of how to celestially navigate in extreme detail?

cuz i just wanted to just have a fun fic where the two bond over both knowing how to navigate, but also each of them gets super disoriented and panicked by one thing they’re not familiar with (time travel, new hemisphere, etc.) and then the other helps them out, and it was gonna be short and simple and straightforward, but that would be incredibly self-indulgent because literally nobody would be able to read it!

like. i want to write this fic. but i could go about this in two ways. one is the inaccessibly self-indulgent way where legend would be like “hey, you can’t get your longitude when you don’t know universal time, and you don’t, because we’ve just time AND space traveled, so our chronometers are completely desynced and the prime meridian is arbitrarily located” and wind would be like “bish, you don’t know ANYTHING—watch me do this lunar distance calculation” and legend would be like “whaaaat? i didn’t know that was a thing” and wind would be like “yeah it’s super hot and sexy but it also requires you having an estimation of your longitude to at least fifteen degrees, and we don’t“ and then legend would be like “so if we just had an estimate of our longitude to fifteen degrees, you’d be good?” and wind would be like “yeah.” and legend would go and figure some stuff out and then come back like “WIND DUDE I GOT IT!!! i did manage to estimate our longitude by taking the magnetic azimuth of rigel during its meridian passage and then using that to calculate the local magnetic variation and cross-referencing THAT against this global variation chart, and by using the latitude we calculated during the noon reduction, we can narrow it down to an area—a relatively broad area, but one we can dramatically narrow down with the lunar distance calculation“ and then wind would be like “woah that’s so clever legend you’re such a genius“ and legend would be like “aw, but i couldn’t have done it without your insane book filled with logarithms that terrifies me to the bone but that you somehow actually know how to use” and wind would be like “dude it’s literally just basic arithmetic, chill,” but legend is hissing like a feral cat and it would be so so fun!!

right, like i think this stuff is SO COOL and it makes me SUPER HAPPY and i wanted to share it in fic form, but that meant making sure people could actually understand what these nerds were talking about without needing to consult a massive explanatory tumblr post, so i was trying to naturally integrate the background information into the dialogue and narration and now i’m thirteen thousand words in and i’m still like “wait, i want to talk about—but first i have to explain—and have i seriously not explained what declination is yet??”

like, i don’t care about this fic being Objectively Good or whatever—there’s a story i want to tell, but i want to tell it in a way people can understand, and that involves explaining my hyperfixation in tons of detail. believe me, i love doing it, i’m just beginning to seriously doubt that anyone is actually going to be able to suffer through this fic and i don’t want to keep going through the effort to explain everything if nobody is actually going to read it except for me, who already knows everything. it’s also really really hard for me to figure out if i’m explaining this stuff well or not because i already understand it and everyone else in my life has had me scream at them about this stuff enough that they know the basics and the terminology.

so, help please!! if you’d wanna read this, please tell me so in the tags (or i guess you could just like the post if you’re shy). if you’d read it, but you don’t actually care if i explain everything and you’d prefer i sacrifice giving you literally any idea what wind and legend are talking about in favor of not wrecking the pacing entirely, please let me know in the notes. if you wanna try beta-reading this thing for comprehensibility, hit me up on discord (@Sky-Squido#4521) and i’ll smack whatever the most recent version of the word doc is and the associated 26d12 psychic damange into your dms.

thanks, guys, and happy new year! i’ll be updating my annual new years fic tonight ^^

[ask-chef-teruteru]

Les go

Plushie part 2!!! Electric bugaloo!!!

(Side note sorry if this is too many plushies and too much plushie l o r e)((also also sorry if this is really long and annoying))

This is yunobo!

He used to be a dog toy but i deemed him too cute to be a dog toy so i stole him <3

He's also used to be boyfriends with this other plush but i felt bad for liking yunobo more then the other plush so i broke them up lol

He was named after my irl bird yunobo

This lil dude

Unfortunately he was REALLY skittish and i wasn't prepared to take care of him, i barely did any research and it didn't help that my mom was scaring him more by tyring to make him be around people

He just wasn't a people bird so i had to give him to a bird sanctuary, i hope hes happy there :>

This is coment (star) and coral (crab) i got them at edisto and i plan on taking them again when i go back this year (maybe, idk its not set in stone)

They're siblings but its more like coral adopted coment as her brother, also coment thinks he's from the stars but he's really just a star fish and coral doesn't have the heart to tell him otherwise

This is sticks (hedgehog) and twig (sloth) my gran gave me sticks from her trip and she gave twig to one of my little brothers but they're not very good at taking care of they're plushys... and we have dogs who like to chew up plushies.... and i found him on the floor... so he's mine now :)

Also they're boyfriend and partner (sticks goes by any pronouns but twig is a boy)

Also sticks like to find metel in the woods with coment so that they can make a space ship so that coment can "go back home"

This is tutu! I found this one dirty cat ballerina at the thrift store so i bought it, cleaned it, tore its face off and turn it into tutu!! Also he's not hostile :)

He's like kitty (that one backrooms guy) he just likes cute stuff, he means no harm <3

Also I'm suprised nothing has fallen off him? I'm not the best at sewing but i am still kinda proud of him

This is blondy! My mom made her for me when i was really little, she made everything from the pants to the shirt to well... the rest of her lol

My mom also made another doll that looked more like me and her name was dolly, unfortunately i don't know where dolly is but shes like blondy but with brown hair and green eyes

This is... i don't know yet i haven't thought of a name! I got this plushy today actually at the thrift store

I remember being a lil teensy bit jealous of my sister cause she had a star projector when i was little and now i can be like: who's the cool one NOW B]

And finally, heres amari

Shes not a plushy, but she is kinda dumb and lays around a lot so i guess shes plushy like

Shes got a nub tail, a mustache, thumbs and also looks like a football

Shes also a stinky little freak :]

Well thats... a good chunk of my plushies

I hope you liked them all :))))

“Aww, they’re all so cute! I think it’s real neat that they all got their own stories n’ lore! It’s clear that ya love n’ take good care o’ all your lil’ guys. I appreciate you sharin’ ‘em with me! It always warms my heart seein’ the things my lovely lovely patrons feel so strongly about!

They’re all precious! I think it’s sweet that Yunobo used to be a dog toy that wound up with a much more cherished existence. Givin’ Tutu a new face must’ve been no small undertakin’, and I think y’all did good! Your mama makin’ Dolly for y’all is real nice too— stuff that’s handmade with love like that is always so meanin’ful.

Amari might not be a plush, but she’s cute n’ I’m happy to have gotten to see her too!

It’s kind o’ y’all to share so much with me— I don’t think it’s annoyin’ in the slightest, so don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about that none, okay? I appreciate you n’ I hope y’all have a wonderful day— and I hope all your lil’ friends do too!”

[precognitiveignition]

nekrogoblikon starters because fuck it

Every time that you try to do something right, you seem to get it oh so wrong

To think I ever trusted you makes me bow my head in shame

You're more worthless than a dumpster filled with pogs

I'm goin' for broke and it all comes crashing down

The world is gone! A massive grave endures instead.

Doesn't matter if it's right, 'cause it's all we got left

Hope your burdens didn't weigh you down too much

How long can I hold on to this mask of sanity?

How long can I fool the world?

I do not believe there's any saving me - nor do I wish there was

I cannot imagine the gall it took to say what you said

It turns out everything is bullshit

It's been a hell of a ride so far, and there's still more to go

Can't even bring myself to smile, it's like dyin' for a cause that I do not believe in

I'm givin' her all she's got and I don't wanna fail

Night has fallen now for good, just like I always knew it would

I wish someone would tell us what we need!

No more shame; it’s time for fame

We’ve read it, watched it, bought it, stole it, sold it; now we just want more

Now we've got a killer plan, and it just might be crazy enough to work

They live in the comfort zone and they’re a bunch of dicks!

We push that boulder up the hill... but then it rolls back down again.

They keep checking their phones, as if it really fuckin’ matters

Something's amiss and we don't know why

What does it mean to be alive?

Did you really think that this had meaning?

The world has gone to Hell 'cause I'm not about to die

If your ears aren't bleeding, you're doing it wrong

They stacked the deck against us, but we learned to count the cards

They wanted to destroy us, now let's send them our regards

And it all ends as it begins

Towards the future, fuck the past!

Trust your heart, follow through, don't stop searching for the truth!

You can think lots of stuff with brains!

[thedovahcat]

Gorillas, Orchids, and Programming

It’s that Time

In the last two weeks I’ve bought a couple of orchids and let me tell ya going from lucky bamboo to whole ass flowering plants is sure a doozy. Hardy or not, I haven’t gotten the hang of these fellas yet and they’re currently not doing so well.

I hope they live! I don’t have a green thumb though certainly.

Small gardening woes aside though I’d been trying to learn Java on my own and so far it’s going very slow. I’ve been on the self taught route with the math and now this since January and I feel pretty stressed about it and am starting to pitter out but,  I feel like if I stop then I’m going to lose my momentum. One’a those kinda feelings. Plus the justification even if it might not be good is that ‘how am I going to handle a stressful workload when I’m in/out of college and or have a job?’

Not that I haven’t done it before... But I suppose the only point of reference I have is my old job and the thought of being stuck in that kind of position forever makes me physically ill.

I guess the motivation may be fear and some spite at this point but more fear than anything else. I at least enjoy the fact that I’m learning I’m not stupid at least. ...Not with math and programming anyway. The brain just needs to rearrange and get used to it is all.

Lately too I’m not really satisfied with any of my hobbies, I feel like I’m always wasting my time when I could be pushing myself to do more, but I know that’s a big mistake waiting to happen and like I’ve discussed with friends... It’s probably not a good idea to keep pushing myself this hard. The difficult part about that is me battling thoughts of “now you’re just being lazy”. Specially with the folks hammering down occasionally. Less mom, more dad. But he’s just that way. No one’s going to be givin’ me grief when I’m bringin’ in the bucks so I just have to bide my time until then.

...It’s just working to get to that point is what’s so difficult. The delayed gratification. It’s very hard when I don’t get rewards or tangible marks of success to keep me going.

A lotta folk have been busy over the spring, which is great! Like man, I wish I could pay attention to IRL and put more emphasis on that. But really I just wanna sit and play games and stuff like before :(  Typing that sounded extremely childish to me but I don’t know any other way to describe it. I guess being in la la land all the time is a bad habit of mine. Or it’s turned into one.

Not to mention my mood swings and I guess ‘pseudo manic phases’ make it very difficult for me to enjoy one thing for a very long or substantial time.

My brain’s a mess, I dunno how to cope with getting adult life settled or worked on lol. It just takes time. Logically I know this but haha, feels wise? Ahhhhhhhh. Just one day at a time... I really shouldn’t expect so much from myself in that I worked a shitty job for like 5 years and now I’m spring boarding into a new career. It’s not going to be instant. Still scared that I’m wasting my time and what have you but, I don’t see any other alternative at this point. Want to cope with my comfort activities but sadly those have a social aspect to them, and I will just have to be patient. I feel extremely selfish in that I guess a lot of those activities and  games were things that got me through the day. But they became a crutch, now I’m stumbling when I really need to work on learning how to walk. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it... I kind of have to.

Again I could go round and round repeating myself but if anyone’s read the past entries of this series then they have a fair idea of how I am already. I just like to complain rhetorically. I’ve already over-analyzed everything 20 times over, believe me. I know what to do/what I should be doing but I don’t feel that way. Etc etc etc...

In the meantime... I reeaallly really want to fix up these orchids... That’s what’s bothering me the most right now. I don’t wanna kill them by being a dumdum regarding plants ;-;