#anyway I wasted time doodling this when I should be writing my fic...

[space-blue]

As both an artist and a writer, I have no idea why I react so differently to works recognisably better than my own.

I'm not the jealous type, and in general I'm more confident in my writing than my art, even if I've had art classes since I was a kid and studied it at school, vs. writing being an 8yo hobby.

When I read someone who is clearly a superior storyteller, I get very excited. I pay more attention to the way they construct sentences, develop characters, etc. I can get so pumped that I'll drop the story and go work on my own, like it gave me a boost.

Art is the opposite. Seeing pieces that are significantly superior, it's a toss of the coin whether I'll just adore it, gawk, save it, move on... Or start feeling down on myself.

Again it's not jealousy, and this post is not an appeal for compliments. I've been practicing loads recently and I'm seeing the improvement in my art even just over the last couple of months.

I just have this tendency to *see* in vivid detail all the ways the Gorgeous Art does things I guess I think I should be able to do/wish I were already able to do/wonder if I'll ever be able to do...

And it's a downer. It's almost never motivational. I'll analyse one such piece, try to learn from it. Draw a flat, shitty pancake of a face doodle, tell myself I'm wasting my fucking time and I should stick to fic, and not draw for a day (I come back eventually).

I refuse to let that sort of feeling affect my attitude outside that though, and always make a point of sharing/saving/commenting/etc. on such pieces anyway. They're often the ones I respect the most.

Art that's gorgeous but not my style or taste never gives me that feelings.

So I guess it's envy and self pity in the end, even if dilluted.

But why do I not get it in writing or 3D?

Maybe it's got something to do with how much keener my eye is for art? Trained, educated to see, but not trained enough to do? Maybe it's because I was raised amid toxic ideas of innate ability and failed next to 'truly dedicated' students who were completely consumed by their art? Is it some personal unresolved hangups?

Maybe it's because I feel I've mastered the basics of writing, or at least there is no mystery to the craft. Reading, practicing, exercises of style, ad vitam aeternam. While art can remain baffling. How is this piece so good? Even if the artist explained I wouldn't know HOW to make it. My hand would fail my eye. Too many moving parts in my mind's eye (I need the perspective, the anatomy, the dynamic lines, the colour theory, the painting experience, the satisfactory brushes, the confidence to pull a decent piece from a rough sketch...)

Whilst writing now is only a matter of growing from sound foundations.

Art feels like the foundations are never done being set.

I have no idea. I wish I knew, so I could enjoy art and drawing the same way I do reading and writing.

[heavenlyheartsclub]

SEPTEMBER: A FNAF SELF SHIP FIC

CHAPTER ONE: DO YOU REMEMBER THE 21ST NIGHT OF SEPTEMBER?

“To have ended up here, surely isn’t without purpose.” 

“We have been sent to deliver a message.”

“Oh?”

“We have observed, We have learned. This festering wound, will soon come to ruin.” 

“As it should. It once was promising, but I’ve seen this fate coming ever since that day. Do as you will, if it is destined.”

“We have a proposal.”

“Do you now?” 

“Of Us, They pity this existence. They refuse to leave this place without a chance.” 

“Ha, a chance? It has been given far too many chances. It is the heart of it, a never ending cycle. A preprogrammed system. You are wasting your time. Will you too continue to dig up what has been buried countless times?” 

“You speak truth. This end result would be certain in this system. Yet, is a system not capable of modification? They have created this, a new factor. We ask of you, one more test. One more run. If it too is to fail, We will grant release.” 

“I cannot lie to you, I am just a bit curious. I will grant your request, but please, humor this old soul. What factor could possibly be great enough to offer hope to this sorry body?” 

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! 

The shrill of Elodie’s phone alarm filled her ears, waking her out of a deep sleep. She groaned, turning it off and checking the time. 7:25 AM, September 21st. She squinted incredulously as she made her way to the bathroom. Was September almost over already? It felt like the year had just begun, yet time passed so quickly. She scrolled absentmindedly as she buttoned up her work shirt. Memes, cute pet pictures, talk of that fire that happened a few months ago, and oh, it was September 21st in that famous song wasn’t it? A video of a skeleton dancing to said song reminded them as it appeared on their timeline. Smiling she pressed play, humming to the melody as she brushed her hair. She tied it into a braid, binding it with a dark blue scrunchy that matched her jeans. They took a moment to try and suppress two cowlicks on either side of their head for the umpteenth time, but they persistently sprung back up. Huffing in frustration, they gave up. Whatever, the “hair horns” won again. No one seemed to mind them anyways, their coworker April even found them cute. 

Elodie shifted to straightening their name tag. On it was the classic writing, “Hello! My name is Elodie.” The name written in a somewhat fancy font, doodles of stars at the end. She smiled, a funny sense of pride in her chest. It was just a name tag, but the ability to customize it made them feel like an individual instead of just another faceless employee. It was one of the many things she loved about working at a family owned business. They moved on to making themselves breakfast, taking a moment to doodle as they ate. She lifted her sketchbook to look at her progress, which consisted of rough sketches of fictional characters, specifically robots. Elodie furrowed her brow. When had she gotten back into robots anyways? 

Right, April. She’s the one that brought up Transformers and got them hooked. Speaking of which…Elodie headed over to the living room to take an old VHS out of the shelf. Turning it over, it read “The Transformers: The Movie.” Popping it open, she could see the name of her coworker written on the tape. “Almost forgot you buddy.” She said, putting it alongside her sketchbook into a backpack. A ping went off on her phone, reminding her it was time to head out. She carried her pack out to her car, tossing it in the passenger’s seat before getting in herself. Turning the ignition key, she headed off. The early morning sky was starting to brighten, sunlight breaking through the treeline surrounding the neighborhood. She rolled down the window, letting the cool air in. She’d usually play music, but something about the serene feeling today called for good old fashioned silence. The suburbs were left behind as the car got into town, the muffled sounds of the now waking world filling her ears. Elodie took in the sights of her home, even though she knew them by heart. No matter how many times she passed them, the warm feeling of a quaint little town never dulled. 

Sundown Arcade, the Trimart gas station, the local library, and the K-12 school on the hill next to Hurkey Woods were just a few staples. Elodie stopped at a crosswalk of the last, watching as a line of children crossed alongside parents and teachers. A man in a pink head bandanna and apron led a little chain of three kids, each one younger than the last. The smallest, a brunette boy with huge shining eyes, took a moment to take his thumb out of his mouth to wave at Elodie. With a giggle she waved back, the man catching the interaction and waving back himself, before continuing to lead the kids to the other side of the road. Driving on, they couldn’t help but think about the interaction that just occurred. That was another thing that they liked, the citizens . Despite not knowing each other well, they were all interconnected. She wondered what each of their daily lives were like. Yet of everything in town, there was one place that Elodie loved most. 

Almost on queue, a large old marquee sign came into view, standing proudly over it’s parking lot. Behind it was the theater, an old building still equipped with retro finishings, adorned in a variety of lights and decals shaped like celestial bodies. In large billboard letters read, “Twilight Theater” complete with a giant prop of a shooting star hanging overhead. Pulling around to the back, she parked in one of the designated staff spots. Elodie approached a back entrance, pushing an emergency fire exit open and into the winding corridors of the theater. Their sneakers were greeted by classic arcade style carpets as they entered, taking in the scent of fresh popcorn in the air. Towards the back of the space was a door labeled “Employee Lounge.” Heading in she input the code for her employee locker, setting her belongings inside. A greeting was said behind her, and she turned to see April. 

“Good morning! How are you doing?”

“Alright, just a bit tired, got to sleep a bit late last night.” April replied with a stretch. “How about you?”

“I’m good! Why’d you have trouble sleeping? Was it Sid again?” 

“Yep, they’ve been having a bit of a hard time with that whole Pizzaplex fiasco that happened, they keep wanting to go back, even though that’s pretty much impossible now.” Sid was April’s little sibling, a cute bright eyed kid with tons of energy and creativity, they had to be only about 6 or 7 now.

“Aw yeah, that was pretty terrible huh? I can’t imagine how many kids must be upset they can’t see the cool animatronics there, I heard they were really life-like. But like, that plaza belonged to a huge company right? I’m sure they’ll rebuild again.”

“Yeah hope so, the bots over there made great babysitters, Sid was always knocked out after their visits. Now that it’s closed, I gotta wrestle that little guy to even try and get them to bed.” 

The two shared a laugh, when Elodie suddenly remembered the tape. “Oh I totally almost forgot! Here.” Slipping the pack off their shoulder and digging into one of the side pockets, Elodie took out the thick plastic case and handed it to April. “Um, thanks for letting me borrow your Transformers Movie VHS. I’ve always wanted to watch it.”

With a smile April took the VHS case, flipping it over to look at the cover. “No problem. Man, I can’t believe you still have a VHS player. The only reason I still have this movie is cause I forgot to sell it back when I moved houses.” 

“I thought it was because it’s Sid’s favorite movie. Y’know, the one where every time they want to watch it, they beg you to go to your aunt’s house since she still has an old TV set up?” 

“Yeah, that too.”  “But unlike Sid, the only reason you wanted to watch it is because of your little crush on Starscream.” 

Elodie stuttered, blushing. “It is not a crush! I just think he’s a very interesting character!” 

“Oh yeah, sure. And that’s why you have to rewind every scene he’s in like 5 times.” 

“Not that much!!”

“So you admit you still do though, huh?”

“I don’t know why I tell you about my interests.” She grumbled, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her arms.

“Aw c’mon, I think it’s cute! Imagine, your boring ordinary life suddenly being changed by the appearance of some robotic Romeo. One who sweeps you up into his strong metallic arms and whisks you off on some sort of high action sci fi adventure, where unexpectedly you fall in love!” April clasped her hands together, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

Elodie rolled their eyes with a smirk. “Anything would be better then spending my days scrubbing vomit off the theater carpets.” The two laughed, but were cut short by their manager Simon popping into the break room.

“Oh hey, glad to see you two, sorry to cut into your chat. April, the slushie machine’s getting low, could you get a fresh tank from the back and refill?”

“Sure.” April patted Elodie’s shoulder, whispering in her ear as she passed by. “See ya later, robot lover.” She snickered, making her coworker’s face flush a light red. 

Simon stepped over to Elodie, brow raised incredulously. “So, you mind me asking what you two were talking about?”

“N-nothing! Oh look the trash hasn’t been taken out yet! Well l better get it, bye!!” She stuttered, hurrying out of the room.

~~~~~~~

Elodie hummed to herself as she swept the entranceway, a small collection of candy wrappers and popcorn piling up. The midday hustle and bustle had started to falter, with only outgoing movie goers passing through. The murmurs of after movie thoughts and muffled film audio had become a comforting white noise, one that offered a small reprieve from the day’s stresses.

Though she knew it was a bit wrong, she would eavesdrop on a conversation once in a while. Despite the first allure of working at a theater, Elodie quickly found it wasn’t quite so exciting. Listening in on the occasional chat helped entertain her. Said chats were pretty normal, friends asking how each other’s day was and talk about media they’d recently seen. Yet today, Elodie found themselves on the tail end of a rather strange one. Next to the bathrooms, two teens were talking in somewhat hushed tones. One in baggy jean shorts and a hoodie leant against the wall, while the other in a beanie and oversized t-shirt fidgeted nervously. The latter leaned in as the other spoke, seemingly transfixed on what they were saying. Elodie found herself craning her neck to hear better. 

“….no way, are you serious?” T-shirt spoke.

“Course I am, why would I lie about that? Besides, I heard it from my brother, it happened to his classmate.” 

“But really? Are you really telling me there’s some kind of monster in Hurkey Woods?” Elodie’s eyes widened, a monster?

“Totally, Alex’s classmate saw it with his own eyes. Y’see, he was out just chilling and having a smoke one night, right? Then he said outta nowhere he hears something above him, in the trees.”

“In the trees??”

“Oh yeah, but that’s not the worst part. Right when he was starting to feel a bit creeped out, he felt like someone was burning holes in the back of his head, super intense. Then all of a sudden, these claws appear from the darkness, and frickin’ put his cigarette out. While it was still in his mouth!” 

“Holy crap..!”

“Yeah, Alex told me the dude was so freaked out he ran away screaming. Honestly though, he sounds like such a crybaby. I woulda clocked that thing in the face.” 

“Yeah right! You would’ve wet yourself just from hearing a twig snap!” 

“Shut it. What about you? You don’t even wanna go in the woods past sunset.”

“That’s cause unlike you, I actually like living. Good luck being minced meat for some freaky forest beast.” As the teens continued to bicker, Elodie was left in thought. 

Was that kid serious? Was there really sightings of some sort of terrifying creature in the woods? In this town? If you looked up the word “uneventful” in the dictionary, their town would probably come up. In her entire time living here she had never heard of anything out of the ordinary. In fact, she had checked  archives for any possible mysteries surrounding the area, but came up empty. 

Excitement bubbled up in her chest, finally something truly interesting was happening in this sleepy little town. They loved their job, their friends, their home, but they had to admit they had been stuck in a rut for a long time. Routine had worn them out, and this was the opportunity to have a little adventure. Coincidentally she had the weekend off, and now she knew just how to spend it. 

~~~~~~~

The evening air was cool, a light breeze drifting through the pine forest. The sun dipping below the horizon. Elodie had taken a well known route from near the school into the woods, one usually traveled on by families. The forest spread from the start of town to the neighborhood, and traveled on a ways before stopping at the next city over. It mostly skirted the edge of town, and you’d have to go in purposefully if you wanted to explore. They realized how counterintuitive it was to try and find something elusive on the safest and most popular trail around, but they would rather be cautious. 

So they continued on, flashlight in hand and stun gun at their side. Some of Elodie’s coworkers thought it overkill to carry a mini weapon when she went out, but considering she was a petite person that had often been mistaken for a middle schooler, she found it more than justified. Worst case scenario, she’d have to shock some creep who was getting a little too friendly. In honesty, that idea filled them with more dread than some chance encounter with a cryptid. She highly doubted she’d find anything out here anyways, the impromptu monster hunt was more of an excuse to take a nice walk through the woods than anything. Besides the possible monster, there was something else out here they were looking for. 

At the sight of a path peaking through the tall grass, excitement ran through Elodie’s chest. They couldn’t help but quicken their pace, pushing into the secret oasis. Illuminated by flashlight was the form of a playground, abandoned and well worn by the elements. Elodie hadn’t been able to visit the place when it was still maintained, but that didn’t matter, she liked it better this way. They immediately climbed up a rock wall on the side of one of the taller structures, wobbling their way across one of those shaky rope bridges to a slide. Stepping up to the platform, they looked over the area. Her own little wonderland, a much needed escape from the dullness of adulthood that gave her the chance to let loose and be childish, the way she wished she could be more openly, more often. After taking in the scenery, they turned their attention to the entrance of a tube slide. With a little chuckle they sat at the entrance, readying themself. 3…2…1…go!

Elodie put her hands above her head as she went down, giggling madly. As she turned a small curve, her fingertips brushed against something. She tumbled forward as she exited, catching herself before she could fall. “What…was that?” It didn’t feel like it was a part of the slide, but more…textured? She climbed back in to investigate. She angled the flashlight inside, tilting her head to to see the object. It looked like a piece of paper wedged into the seams of the tube. There was something on it, but it was hard to tell at the angle in the small space. Grabbing it, she hissed as a small corner tore off before freeing itself. She slid back down, paper in hand, deciding to rest on one of the swings to examine it closer. 

The paper was crumpled and seemingly singed. It looked as if it had been scrawled on in crayon, depicting a colorful setting Elodie couldn’t quite identify. It featured what appeared to be a small girl in a pink dress, smiling happily while she held hands with…something. It was humanoid in shape, adorned in dark blue. She would have assumed it was a parent if not for its strange proportions, a tall and looming figure with arms dangling at its sides. Half of the face was obscured by shadow, but featured prominent red eyes. A far too large smile was etched into the face. She tore her gaze away from the drawing. This whole scenario felt like something out of a cheesy horror movie, it had to be a prank. Yet the nauseous feeling in their stomach persisted, convinced it was very real. Stealing a glance one more time, she noticed a name scribbled over the figure’s head. Squinting, they tried to decipher it. “M….M….O…O…? Moo-?” 

In an instant a force grasped at Elodie’s throat, world blurring as her feet left the ground. The flashlight and paper fell from her hands as she clawed at whatever held her throat, her heart dropping at the sensation of cold almost metallic fingers wrapped around it. Gaze darting up in panic, their eyes met with bright red ones. A crushed scream struggled from their throat as they thrashed violently, the obscured figure tilting its head as if it were a curious dog. Eden felt flakes of rust fall onto their face as the squirmed, realizing they were coming off of the decaying swing set. With a sudden realization, they used the last of their quickly fading strength to throw their legs upward full force, smacking into the top support beam of the decrepit structure. It shook violently, setting the creature off balance for just long enough to loosen its grip. Elodie slipped out of its grasp and tumbled to the ground. Pushing herself forward, she sprinted off into the woods.

With no sense of direction she ran as fast as she could, barely avoiding obstacles on the forest floor. It was all instinct at that point, they were prey to some unknown horror, some predator. A harsh grinding sound and the rustling of foliage followed close behind. Elodie looked up to search for the end of the tree line, but only saw endless woods. Instead she caught a glimpse of something leaping into the air, the large figure silhouetted against the moon for just a moment. It suddenly landed in front of her, clinging to a large oak tree like a lizard. The faint shape of its head turned and turned, more than should be naturally possible, till it was completely upside down. Her heart dropped as she realized she wasn’t able to stop her momentum, running straight towards it. At the last moment she threw all her weight to one side, ducking down and sliding a sharp right, nearly missing the thing attempting to snatch her. She skidded hard but got back into full acceleration, escaping into a more open space. Just about twenty or so feet ahead was a giant dead tree that appeared hollowed out, a knothole entrance conveniently open at the bottom. Their lungs and legs felt like they were on fire and desperately needed rest, they couldn’t go on much longer. 

But for once being tiny was about to pay off. Elodie shoved themself into the narrow entrance, squeezing in so forcefully she popped out the other side, flopping onto something that crinkled loudly under her weight. Looking around, a pit formed in their stomach. They were surrounded by papers, each a children’s drawing like the one she had found earlier. The same etched smile stared at her from all angles, illuminated underneath the moonlight from above. Wait. Above? The light suddenly went out, a large form casting a shadow over her. For a brief second she could see it, crawling in from the top of the hollow tree, before it came crashing down on her with a clang. The weight knocked the wind out of them as it immediately pinned down her arm. A cacophony of garbled noise escaped from the creature, as if i hissing in anger. She tried to dig her nails into it, but found the surface to be hard, only injuring herself in the process. Elodie was running out of options quick, as she felt her throat being squeezed. She could feel her head go fuzzy, fighting to stay conscious.

She wildly grabbed at everything around her as the pressure on her windpipe increased, till she found her grasp around a rectangular object at her side. The stun gun! In their adrenaline high state they had forgotten about the tool, and managed to unlatch it from their belt loop. Taking in what little breath she could through her nose, she screwed her eyes shut and thrust the weapon into the neck of the creature. Immediately the blue and white light of electricity lit up the dark hollow, crackling loudly as it made contact, the sound mixing with unearthly screeches. The smell of smoke filled the air as the monster suddenly went limp, falling into a tangled heap across her legs. Elodie ripped the fingers off of her throat, struggling to get out from under the creature. Once she had pulled the gangly form off of her for long enough to free herself, she scrambled out of the hollow, landing with an exhausted thud. 

They laid there in the opening for what felt like hours, though it had been probably only minutes. Heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to pop out of their chest, their breaths ragged and desperate. Waiting until she felt she had taken in as much air as her lungs would allow, she forced herself into a sitting position. She stared at the knothole she just escaped from, now a few yards away from her, muscles tense and ready to flee at the slightest movement. Yet everything remained eerily quiet, only the sound of their breathing filling the space. They could see the arm of the creature laying limp outside of the hole, a large hand with long fingers curled stiffly, as if dead. They had expected claws, paws, talons. Yet the appendage was clearly a humanoid. What in the world was this thing?

Despite every inch of her body screaming at her to get the HELL out of there, something at the back of her mind tugged desperately. A little voice telling her she had to know what just attacked her. So despite everything, she listened. Standing up on shaky legs she took a few hesitant steps forward, both hands firmly gripped on the stun gun held out in front of her. Inching closer, she could start making out the finer details of the arm. The limb appeared segmented at the finger joints, wrist, and elbow, colored a mix of off white and deep blue. Even closer the “skin” appeared to be cracked. But not in the way it would on a person. The cracks were ridged and random like those in a sidewalk, with one opening up along the upper forearm into a sizable crevice. Peering into it something glint in the moonlight.

All fear suddenly flew out the window, replaced by overwhelming curiosity. Elodie took a nearby stick and prodded at the thing’s arm, to no reaction. She continued to fumble with the crevice on its arm, concluding that the glint had been wires. Certain now that this thing was well, dead might have not been the right word. Unconscious? Broken? She let her guard down, tugging on the hand hard to try and pull the creature out. It took some adjustments, but she managed to do it. It helped that it was surprisingly flexible, squeezing out of the knothole fairly easily once she got the right grip on it. It was still dark out, even with the moonlight, but Elodie could see the rough outline of what it was. It was humanoid in shape, two arms, two legs, and a head like a disk. It smelled of burnt metal and smoke, though they weren’t sure if it was from the stun gun or not. There was one last thing of note on the “monster,” and that was that it was freakishly tall. What they originally assumed as organic in nature, was instead, a machine.

Why was a robot out here stalking the wilderness? If it was actively programmed by someone to do something sinister, then why was it in such disrepair? And even so, they hadn’t heard of any injuries or disappearances, the most they knew of was this thing spooking a teenager. It had only appeared after she took the drawing. Speaking of it, the little girl in it didn’t appear to be scared if the machine. The same could be said for the other children she had gotten a glimpse of in the other drawings. They were all smiling, content and not in the least afraid of the creature, er, robot, next to them. The one she was coming to realize in that moment, had kept these drawings. They had been hidden carefully in safe spots like the inside of the slide and in the hollowed out tree, safe from the elements. They must have meant a lot to it, and some stranger coming in and ripping it out of its safe place (though she didn’t mean to) probably seemed like a threat. 

A new pain tugged at her heart, not fear, but pity. Perhaps she was anthropomorphizing it too much, but all of its actions seemed scarily life like. Maybe it was just attacking to defend itself? To defend the drawings? She shook her head, this was all too overwhelming. Their strength was practically gone and they were beyond tired. All they wanted to do now was go home and sleep for a thousand years. 

But she couldn’t just leave them here, this machine had to belong to someone. It was lost, probably malfunctioning, and definitely worse for wear. If it had broken, then it was going to just sit and rot here, or be picked at for scraps by random people. She shuddered at the thought, as if leaving it here were a death sentence. Suddenly remembering her phone, she searched her pockets to find it there and in tact. There wasn’t any signal out her to call anyone, though she wasn’t sure who she would even call, but her wireless gps still worked. Now that she had known the approximate way home, all that was left was trying to figure out how to get the robot there. 

[parkerdoesparkour]

-Around Your Room by Kississippi w/ Kalim Al-Asim-

A short fic inspired by Kalim and Titania's love song.

Kalim is over at Ramshackle bright and early. After Titania agreed to help him with studying for an upcoming alchemy test, he wants to make sure he doesn’t waste her time. However, he is really bad at alchemy, so he thinks the best way to ensure success is to start studying early. 

Titania answers the door half asleep and still in our pajamas. “Kalim?” she yawns. “What time is it?” 

“I should have texted I was coming, huh?” he responds. “I mean, Jamil said it was a good idea since we never set a specific time but I thought you’d be up, ‘cause you’re usually up by now, anyways–.”

“That’s when I have class,” she says. “Today’s Saturday.” She yawns again and Kalim plays with the hem of his shirt. 

“Should I come back?” he asked. He could hear the uncertainty in his own voice; he wanted to spend as much time as possible with her but he didn’t want to be a bother. 

Titania shakes her head and gives him a sleepy smile. “No, I’m up now. Want some breakfast?” He followed her inside and he knew he should refuse. Jamil packed him breakfast, lunch, and a snack and he would be angry if Kalim admitted to eating food without it having been tasted first. 

Then again, this was Titania. The girl who went out of her way to help, not just Kalim, but many of the students on campus, including Jamil. Kalim figures Jamil would understand and asks, “What’re the options?”

“Standard stuff,” Titania shrugs. “I’ve got a half-eaten box of cereal, unless Grim finished it off. Uh, yogurt, bagels, I could make us oatmeal if you want but I’m out of toppings.” She rummages through the kitchen pantry and Kalim watches from over her shoulder. She picks the aforementioned cereal box and shakes it. “Okay, we’ve got cereal left.” 

He takes the cereal and the two eat breakfast together. He enjoys their light conversation, taking turns asking about each other’s week and trading stories they’ve picked up around campus. When breakfast ends, Titania runs upstairs to get dressed while Kalim sets up his study supplies in the living room. 

“Thanks again for your help,” he says when she returns. She sits next to him and opens her own alchemy notebook. 

“Alchemy is my best subject,” she laughs. “It’s the perfect combination of minimal magic and lots of plant talk.” Kalim smiles and scoots closer to her as she begins her mini-lecture. He tries really hard to pay attention to what she’s saying but his mind can’t help but wander. He loses focus every time their shoulders brush, he studies how her curls fall in her face, and how her lips move as she explains the different properties of magical berries. 

He writes notes, with only occasional lost-in-thought doodles, and enjoys this rare time he gets to spend with her. When lunch rolls around, he doesn’t mention the food packed away in his bag as Titania prepares them swiss and tomato sandwiches. Grim floats in and out of the room to comment on how boring Kalim and Titania were being and stealing Titania’s attention. Kalim tries not to pout every time she focuses on Grim instead of him. 

Eventually, Grim retires to the living room to watch television and Titania asks Kalim if he has any more questions. “No,” he says, “you were a great teacher!” She beams and he wonders now if he would have to go back to Scarabia. He isn’t quite sure he’s ready to leave Ramshackle yet, but thinks it would be rude to ask if he could stay longer. However, Titania seems to read his mind or, at the very least, want to still hang out with him, too. She asks,

“I’m going to do some gardening now. Want to help?”

“Yes, please,” he nods. They head out into the gardens behind Ramshackle and Kalim marvels at all the plants she managed to grow. Flowers and spices and produce alike sprawled across the lawn in a system he doesn’t understand but is still impressed by. “What are we going to do?”

“Well,” Titania begins, “I need to prune my blueberry bushes and check on my pumpkin patch. I just planted the seeds, but Grim’s looking forward to pumpkin soup already so he asked me to see if anything’s sprouted. There are flowers that need watering too, so if you don’t mind taking care of that…” She passes Kalim a stout, pink watering can. 

“You can count on me,” he assures her. They separate into the garden and he’s careful about following her directions for the flowers. She comes by every now and then to check on him, always praising him for his hard work. He can’t help but glow on the inside and once he finishes his task, he follows her around as she checks on her vegetables. He is enthralled in their conversations, so much so he doesn’t notice the sun starting to set until he feels his phone ringing. 

“You need to come back to Scarabia,” Jamil says on the other line. “I’ve already prepared dinner, and I’m sure Titania has things she needs to do as well.”

Kalim deflates as his day at Ramshackle comes to an end. “I’ll leave now,” he tells Jamil. Then, he walks with Titania back to Ramshackle to gather his things. 

“You look so sad,” she comments. 

“I just had so much fun, I wish we could still be together,” he replies. He lifts his bag up and follows Titania to the door. “But I’d rather not make Jamil angry.”

Kalim lingers in the doorway, unsure of how to say goodbye. He thinks about giving her a hug but isn’t sure how she feels about personal space. He wonders if it would be too awkward to ask for one or if he should just wish her a good night with minimal fanfare. He realizes then he’s never thought so hard about a simple parting which only causes him to panic more about how to properly leave Ramshackle. His eyes flicker to her lips, pulled up in a small smile, before back to her eyes and he freezes. 

Oh. 

He wants to kiss her goodbye.

Embarrassment flows through him all at once and he forcefully turns his head away from her, pretending to study a painting on the wall. “It was a lot of fun! Next time, you should come to Scarabia and Jamil can cook you something. Or, maybe I can try since you made me lunch today. But I can’t promise it’ll taste good, I’ve never actually cooked before, but I’d be willing to learn for you. Is that weird? I don’t mean to make it weird, but I get it if you say, ‘Kalim, that’s weird’ so don’t feel bad.”

Titania places her hand on his cheek and stretches up on her tiptoes. Then, she kisses him; a chaste peck on his lips to silence his ramblings. “That would be nice,” she says when she pulls back.

“Can you read my mind?” Kalim asks and she laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well,” he shuffles his feet, “how did you know I wanted to kiss you goodbye?”

“Oh, that.” She takes his hands and squeezes them, threading their fingers together. “I just wanted to kiss you goodbye. So, I did.” She pauses, then asks hesitantly, “Is that okay?”

Kalim nods his head. “I liked it. I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you, too,” she says. 

“Then, can I have another one? Just to make sure I make it back to Scarabia safely, you know.”

“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” She grins and presses more kisses across his face. Kalim knew he was late for dinner, and that Jamil would be extra annoyed with him, but it was well worth it to know he was saddled with good luck charms from forehead to chin.

[aro-laurance-zvahl]

hey now, don't beat yourself up about "unfinished" work. sometimes the purpose of writing is to shake your emotions out, or to test a new style, or to write the one specific scene you've been daydreaming about. 500 words is still a lot (trust, I did nano and thinking "I still have 500 words.." is daunting). no love, however brief, is wasted.

for a prompt, you never said if you wanted it fandom specific? so I think it could be fun to try and write smth in second person. you could do it in a, outsiders perspective looking in to whatever fandom situation you want. also, don't feel pressured to post it. sometimes our writing is just for us (though of course if you want to, I'm not holding you back!) :]

It has been. A bit of a rough week. Which made these 500 words take longer than my usual, but they shall not be wasted. Since I first followed you back in your Sanders Sides days, I figured I might well cobble together something SaSi. It’s from this LAMP soulmate AU I have, inspired by a fic I read years ago but when I reread it it just didn’t scratch the itch. It’s a mess of an AU, so many branching paths and no consistent timeline and probably at least 10k words of mess scattered around my drafts and 1k of them are probably the same words pasted into different draft where the situation goes a different direction. I have fun with it though, and I really like it which felt appropriate for this ask as well.

So without further ado, enjoy 537 words of Remy’s inner turmoil.

—

You are fourteen years old, sitting with your best friend in his room. You’re pretending not to notice, but you can tell he’s looking at how the writing appears on your arm. You know he’s still mourning the fact his writing doesn’t appear on it anymore, and so are you.

Not that you don’t like your soulmate, he’s nice and his doodles are getting better, and you feel it in your bones you’ll love him when you see him, but you don’t think it’ll stop the weird grief you have about Virgil. He’s been your best friend since you were six, and for over two years he was your soulmate too. Until he wasn’t.

Looking back, maybe it was predictable. You two were kids, arms filled with possible soulmates that fate was still lining up perfectly. Nearly all of them would fade, and one day, for you, they did. You were left with one, like everyone figured would happen. You had already met your soulmate, you two would barely remember a day without that bond. Except the one wasn’t Virgil, and it could not have happened at a worse time.

You don’t think you could ever forgive fate for the shambles she left Virgil in, even if your soulmate is a god on earth. He lost so much that year because of stupid fate and you know he’s never been able to recover, so why should you love fate? You know she’s not kind, maybe she has been to you since that time but you’ve seen the cruel nature she harbors. You had to watch her break your best friend before either of you knew long division.

You take a deep breath. He just got back from the hospital, it’s not the time to go on one of your anger induced ramblings about fate. They make him sad anyway, and you’re supposed to be here to cheer him up. You try to focus back on the game in front of you, but your arm itches and you know it’s because fate is sinking her claws along the new markings, urging you to look and look and look.

You give in to her demands, sparing a quick glance down to relieve the hives like feeling dancing across your arm. It’s nothing important, just a few words asking you to remind him to ask for more stickers, you couldn’t even respond if you really needed to anyway. The itching fades as quickly as it began though, and you wonder how Virgil manages to never look at his own if you cave after moments? His soulmates are chatty too, from what you have gathered from the small things he says about them.

It’s most definitely not the time to ask though, so you once again adjust your grip on the controller in your hand and focus your vision back onto the game in front of you. It really sucks you have to finish the game for him, but he doesn’t want to wait the couple months for his cast to come off to see the end and you know he’d do it for you. You’ve been dying to talk about it with him anyway, and that is definitely a safe and happy subject.

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Hey! I always loved your writing and you actually inspired me to write some myself so I want to request if it’s alright…

Can I have Hanako x f!reader who doesn’t believe in love (this having to due with her parents never getting along). She says that it’s just a little word people say to make them feel better about themselves and it’s a waste of time.

But she can’t help but fall in love with Hanako and gets on flustered when he’s around but tries to tell herself it’s not love. Oneshot please!

Thank you and feel free to ignore if you want!

hanako x f!reader

a/n: hello hello!! thank you so much for the compliment- that’s really sweet, and it genuinely means the world to me;; but, sure thing! (ahh, the fact that i wrote a rengoku fic about the reader feeling that way not long ago- this is a topic I’m familiar with, so I hope that it makes it turn out even better? haha) thank you so much for requesting, and I hope this turns out alright!!! <333 also, if you ever want to share your writings, do feel free to tag me/let me know somehow! I’m sure they’re amazing, and I’d love to read them, should you be comfortable with it!! :DD

bro i guess this request resonated with me bc i genuinely like,,, went off. So it’s,,, pretty long- i hope that’s alright haanofnaoinf-

warnings: implied parental issues?

word count: 2,363

Love was ridiculous. It was a stupid idea. An overused word, thrown onto any situation in which you felt something other than anger, fear, sadness, or disgust. If something made you even a little happy, you’d claim to love it. If someone showed you basic human decency, you’d claim to love them.

You hated it. It made you feel sick.

It’s not like you could control what everyone else did, you supposed. So, you’d continue on normally. If you didn’t fall in love, then there was no worry about falling out of it- that’s what you figured. That’s what you told yourself. Love wasn’t real in the first place- how could such an overused word hold any true meaning? It was like a 1st grade pinky promise. It was easily broken, as if it held any truth to it when the kids exchanged a deal. No matter how much either part of it trusted the promise, it made it no more real or true.

Yep… love was best put as a 1st grade pinky promise.

Maybe not-

Still, such a strong opinion on love, an unmoving opinion, with your own “proof” to back it up… made it hard when you thought that it may be put to question. You walked near the bathroom, the girls’ bathroom, and heard a girl from your class shout something. You couldn’t tell what, but you did notice her slightly annoyed expression as she left the bathroom.

Ah, the girl who seemed to be constantly head-over-heels for boys- particularly Minamoto-senpai, you had noted. It wasn’t like he’d return the feelings, you figured. It’s not like her “love” was anything more than an obsession.

Still, you figured there must have been some other girl in the bathroom. Yashiro probably had friends- she talked to Aoi a lot. Maybe the school’s princess was teasing her friend. You pushed open the door, noticing that all the stalls were empty. The only other entity in the bathroom was… a floating, slightly-transparent boy. He was laughing, and you went ahead and assumed it was at Yashiro’s annoyance.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Honestly, you just needed to pee, but it shouldn’t have surprised you. Little mokke running around the school constantly, weird things happening, a boy in the girls’ bathroom wasn’t life-changing. Or so you figured.

You grumbled, making some comment you weren’t even sure you got, as you stepped into a stall. Not acknowledging him would surely be best. You were fairly new to the school, and it wasn’t like you were insanely fond of public restrooms anyway. You’d never have to see him again. Plus, if he was anything like the other supernaturals, you were sure he’d be a handful. That was your thought process, as you washed your hands, glimpsing up at the mirror hung above the sink- you caught another glimpse at him.

An old uniform. Brown, almost shaggy, hair. His eyes were amber, and rather large- the way he held his hands, you silently compared him to a puppy. Innocent face, playful eyes- almost too alive for a ghost. He turned his head, nearly making eye contact, but you continued to study his appearance. A white… bandage? Sticker? Something- stuck to his face, the kanji for “seal” written in red.

Weird.

“My, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” He spoke, bringing a hand to his mouth, as a mischievous smirk came to his face.

A pain in the neck.

Your eyebrows furrowed, as you looked back down, turning off the sink and drying your hands.

“Oh? Gonna pretend you didn’t see me? How cruel,”

Still, you ignored him. He couldn’t be serious. How was he so sure you didn’t simply think you caught something out of the corner of your eye? Was he messing with you, or trying to lighten the mood?

“I don’t think I want to associate with a pervy ghost,” You said, shutting the door behind you. As if right on time, the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over. With that, you made your way to class, hoping to not have to deal with any more paranormal things.

…

Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. As the rest of the day took it’s sweet time to pass, you sat, spacing out as you thought about that boy. He was one of the first humanoid supernaturals you had seen at the school- honestly, you half-hoped that all of them were cute little bunnies. Not… strangely eye-catching boys… how weird.

You sighed, clicking your pen, letting the quiet sound drown the teacher’s ramblings out a bit. Ca-click, click-click, ca-click, click-click.

“Y’know, people find that little sound annoying sometimes. It never bothered me, but teachers seem to be so sensitive about it.”

Jumping, you turned your head a bit, only to be practically nose-to-nose with the boy from the bathroom. Your heartbeat increased from the surprise, but you placed your hand on your chin, pretending to not have seen anything. Not only did you not want to give him much of your time or energy, but you definitely didn’t want to attract negative attention from the normal kids around you. Your eyes scanned the room, and you noticed Yashiro looking in your direction, most likely at the boy. Yes, she definitely saw him too.

“Waaah, Yashirooooo, the new girl’s totally ignoring me!” He sighed, floating over to her. She looked away as well, focusing intensely on whatever the teacher had to say. You weren’t even sure by this point, watching the two out of the corner of your eye. You stopped clicking your pen, watching as he stood behind Yashiro, leaning against her as he peered at her notes.

He glanced at you again, and you looked away. The boy, who you were now curious as to what his name could be, floated back over to your desk, glancing at your notes.

“You really aren’t paying attention, huh! Yashiro’s not much better- her page is mainly doodles. How on earth do you plan to pass like this, haha?”

You glared at him slightly, before lifting your pen, and clicking it open. Annoyed, you flipped to another page, and scribbled something down. He leaned forward a bit, looking at whatever it is you wrote.

“Leave me alone, toilet boy.”

He laughed, patting your back. “Toilet boy? What’s with all the insults, I barely know youuuuuu- plus, I have a name. I’m Hanako. School Mystery Number 7, Hanako-san of the toilet! Not ‘toilet boy’, nor a pervy ghost.”

You raised your eyebrows, writing once more.

“Wonderful. Now leave me alone, ‘Hanako-san of the toilet’.”

Days passed, and he certainly didn’t leave you alone. In fact, you grew to find yourself spending more time than you expected to with him. You assisted with supernaturals from time to time, even meeting his two other friends properly- Kou Minamoto and Yashiro Nene. You all slowly, but surely, became friends.

“I’m done wiping the mirrors,” You said, tossing the dirty rag into the bucket.

“I’m done mopping!” Yashiro exclaimed, sighing as she leaned against the mop.

“I’ve finished dusting too,” Kou added.

Hanako nodded, clapping cheerfully. “Great job, everyone! Can’t wait to see the same enthusiasm tomorrow!!”

The three of you collectively groaned, rolling your eyes. “Yes, yes, just like that,” Hanako laughed, moving his legs to sit in the air in a criss-cross fashion. Light conversation picked up, Kou talking to Yashiro, and Hanako throwing in a comment every so often. You stood, leaning against the sink, watching your friends look so happy. Hanako glanced at you, closing his eyes as he grinned.

Your heart rate picked up, and you felt your face grow warm. Your eyebrows furrowed just slightly, as you glanced away. It wasn’t the first time a little action like that made your heart go haywire. Not just your heart- your stomach, your legs, your arms. The moment Hanako grinned at you, hugged you, or emptily flirted, you felt as though you lost the ability to function. It couldn’t be love… no, you didn’t want to fall in love.

“Right, but it's getting late, guys. I should really head home,” Yashiro spoke, putting the mop up as she did so. Kou nodded, glancing over at the clock. “I’ve got to get home and work on dinner,” He said, putting the duster away, and grabbing his things.

Hanako glanced at you.

“I don’t really have any plans. I finished homework in class, so I think I’ll linger around for a bit more.”

“Alright! Be safe when you head home, (Y/N)! I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Yashiro spoke, waving as she left the room. “Bye guys! Be safe!” Kou added, leaving not long after she did. Silence filled the room for a moment, the only thing breaking it being the sound of your shoes as you made your way to the window seal. Taking a seat, you looked at Hanako expectantly.

“Well? Any more stories of the things I missed out on?”

...

“The Confession Tree?” You questioned, the other two humans long gone by now, leaving Hanako to recount to you previous adventures they had gone on.

“Yep! Yashiro and I took care of that one- it was honestly easier than most of them were. He’s still around, just nothing bigger than one of those pre-cut broccolis. The rumor was, you’d confess under him, and he’d make the feelings mutual~, buuut, it obviously got way out of control.”

“That’s so stupid.”

Hanako raised his eyebrows, not expecting such a distasteful tone of voice. “What is?”

“A supernatural forcing some kids to ‘fall in love’,” You made air quotes, before continuing, “it’s pretty gross. Love’s nothing more than some overused word. It’s tagged onto everything, and it’s basically used to make you feel better. It’s all a waste.”

For once, he was silent. Several questions began to circulate in his mind, but a part of him was… somewhat hurt.

“But what if I love you?” He questioned, tilting his head. His face felt warm, but he tried to steady his heartbeat. It wasn’t a direct confession. No, just a question. A ‘what if.’

You blinked, your face feeling warm. You understood- of course, it was nothing more than a ‘what if.’ “It wouldn’t be love. You’d be interested in me, only for the interest to go away eventually- even if it took a week. Even if it took years. Just… trust me, Hanako. I’m not the smartest person in the world, but- once you see it happen to the two people who are supposed to be there for you forever, you get the memo. It isn’t love. Never was, never will be.”

Those words you spoke… you didn’t like the fact that you questioned their sincerity. Especially when you were blushing, the boy who made you question those words looking at you with his big, rather beautiful eyes. “Or… that’s… what I think,” You added, the heat rising to your face only making you feel worse, as he blinked. His undivided attention on you- on what you said- made your heart beat much faster than you wished it would.

And suddenly, he was closer. Too close. Way too close. His eyes began to shut, as his face drew closer to yours. Your heart began to beat quicker than it had before- your face grew hotter than it already was- your eyes widened, as you silently questioned what on earth he was going.

One of his hands grabbed your wrist, and you looked over at your arm he was holding, then back up at him. His face was still close, so close you were sure you’d smell him if he still had a scent. So close he could probably feel the heat radiating off of your face, if he could still distinguish hot from cold.

“Then why is your heart beating so fast?” He finally questioned, thumb pressed against your radial artery, as if the warmth of your face wasn’t enough of a sign.

“Because- you’re… way too close.”

“But you aren’t pushing me away? I’ll scoot back if you want. I’m not a mind reader though, so just use your words.”

Your mouth felt dry. Why weren’t you saying anything? You could speak. Open your mouth and tell him to move. Take your free hand and shove him.

But… a part of you didn’t want him to move.

Hanako smiled once more, his eyebrows drawn together slightly, as if he were saddened by something. “I’m sorry that you were dealt a hand like that in life. It’s easy to look around and find all the negatives in life. But,” He leaned forward a bit more, nose nearly touching yours, “you aren’t your parents. You don’t need to follow in their footsteps. Don’t let their problems influence you so heavily to where you miss out on potentially great things. It’s okay to be sad about it. It’s okay to be scared. But it’s still your life, not theirs. If everyone’s overuse of it bothers you, then only say it when you mean it. Still, if you feel love, embrace it.”

Your eyes felt slightly prickly, as they watered up a bit. His sincerity… your racing heart. Maybe, just maybe… you were in love.

“I… think I love you, Hanako,” You muttered. You were scared. You were scared that he’d tell you he was joking- or that maybe this wasn’t love. Scared of so many things, stemming from one little word. Yet, you tried to embrace it.

“I love you, (Y/N). And nothing will change that,” He said, his smile widening. Quickly, he closed his eyes, closing the distance between the two of you. His lips were… cold. His touch was the only thing that reminded you that he wasn’t alive. Still, the warmth of his words made up for it, as you closed your eyes into the kiss.

His encouragement wouldn’t drown out the fear completely. He couldn’t take the memories away. But he tried… he told you that he loved you, so… you’d believe him. After all, you hadn’t heard him overusing the word. It only made that moment feel that much more genuine.

[thebigqueer]

Uhh I don’t know if you’re still taking fanfic prompts (if you ever were-sorry my Tumblr is MESSY) but uhhh I saw this headcanon where Nancy Bobofit is on a date with her boyfriend and sees Percabeth and is jealous of their relationship and your writing is pretty frickin good and if you’re not too busy if you could give your thoughts on this?

oh my god i remember seeing that headcanon on pinterest ahhh memories of my baby days ahahahahahahh but anyway yeah! sure!

(and yeah you’re fine. i’m still taking requests, but i have quite a few to get to so i’ll be taking a while to get through them.)

thank you for the prompt, and i hope you like this one! and, as always: i do little to no editing on these fic prompts, so please don’t be too judgmental on them because i’m not gonna be giving it my absolute best. 

Droplets of sunlight drip through the leaves, sprinkling over Percy and Annabeth in dapples of gold. A breeze gently caresses the demigods’ faces. Today, Percy and Annabeth soak in the afternoon sunlight, allowing the moisture of the air seep into their skins. Percy’s arm lies lazily over Annabeth’s shoulders as she draws her sketches.

Annabeth has been more focused on her work since the two have been planning on heading to New Rome in just a few weeks. She’s been working hard on new sketches, brilliant designs, muttering under her breath ideas to improve her structures. Percy's been watching her, admiring how easily she can brush past all her school work in just the matter of hours and turn right to her new designs. He supposes that’s because she’s truly passionate about it; of course she’d make time for it.

Percy, on the other hand, has been struggling quite a bit with time. He’s only ready to let go of this place, go on new adventures with his girlfriend and start making a new life for himself. He’s too focused on the future ahead of him, which means he hasn’t exactly spent too much time worrying about his own work. He knows he should keep up with it, but he’s already been accepted to the university. All he wants to do is think about that new future, about all the possibilities.

Percy twirls his fingers through Annabeth’s curls, feeling the softness under his fingertips. The golden locks spill out again, gleaming under the setting sun, and his breath hitches as he looks at her. Her tanned skin emanates a certain kind of glow as the sunlight drapes over her, and her gray eyes sparkle with an intensity he’s so used to seeing. She’s absolutely beautiful. 

He leans his head against her shoulder, a dopey smile coming across his face as her body heat seeps into his skin. Annabeth keeps doodling, and Percy keeps thinking about her, basking in this familiarity with her. 

This is just the way things are. It’s the way he always hopes them to be forever. 

~

Several feet away, by a different large tree, a girl sits by her own boyfriend. They’re turned away from the sunlight; only a shade spills over them. The girl’s usual flaming hair droops under the darkness, almost washed out of color. A hollow feeling spreads through her chest as she watches her boyfriend lie next to her, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm as he wastes away in his dreams. 

She isn’t sure why she feels this way. Why can’t she just be happy with him? Why does she have to feel these... feelings? 

As he dozes off, she finds that she’s able to slip away from him again, wander back to her own fantasies and daydreams. She thinks of the girl in her AP Stats class, the one who lent her a pencil the other day. They haven’t been friends long, but something about her strikes Nancy in her core; it’s a warm, gooey feeling, something she’s never quite felt before with anyone else.

Nancy sighs; she just doesn’t understand why she has to think about her right now. Isn’t she supposed to enjoy her time with her boyfriend? Why can’t she just... stop?

She watches over the landscape of the park, her eyes absorbing all the people, the colors, the vibrancy of the place. It seems as though only she lies in the shadows of the tree, isolated from the rest of the world.

As she roves over the features of the place, her dark eyes fix themselves upon a boy and a girl lazing around several feet in front of her, smiles gleaming under the golden sunlight. The boy lies over a blonde girl, his own darker hair falling into his eyes as he speaks to her. The girl’s mouth opens as she offers a silent laugh in response. They seem to be living in their own world, Nancy notes, but not in the same lonely isolation that she’s in. Their world is bright and warm and sunshiny, filled with an intimate laughter. 

Hers is dark and lonely, filled only with despair. 

A flame bursts in her, a hot rage that she had no idea she was capable of. Since sixth grade, she’s been working on her anger issues and kleptomania; she even stopped going to that stupid school. But now, as she watches them, she can’t help but to want to steal one more thing - their happiness. 

They watch each other adoringly in a manner that indicates that they’ve found some kind of comfort with in one other. Their eyes sparkle with love, with pure admiration, with something so profoundly happy that an even hotter burst of anger erupts in Nancy’s chest. Why can’t I have that? she wonders.

She thinks again of the girl in her AP Stats class. Nancy couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by her features the other day, the way her dark hair swooped gently over her eyes, the way her lips seemed permanently glued into a small, mischievous smile. She’d doodled on Nancy’s notebook, a little flower, and laughed quietly as if they were sharing a secret. 

Nancy looks over at her dozing boyfriend once more, watching his eyelids flutter as he slips farther and farther into his dreams. She knows she’d never be happy with him; she knows that she only started dating him for the sake of dating. She felt like she was falling behind on something, and she only wanted to catch up. 

She sighs, her breath blowing out into the Spring air. She leans back against the tree now, letting her head swivel left and right as she watches the people of New York City mill about, allow the sun to sprinkle over them. 

And then, just to the left, she spots her: the girl. Today she’s wearing white shorts over black tights, with a dark purple top to match. Her short hair flows dreamily with the gentle breeze, its dark wisps trying to keep pace with the current. A sweet, tingling laughter flows from her lips, drifting along with the wind. The soft sunlight catches her skin and a dim glow surrounds her skin. 

Almost as if she can sense Nancy staring at her, the girl’s head turns. For a moment, she merely stares at Nancy, not quite registering her. A beat of silence passes, and Nancy swears that her heart has stopped working. The air stills as if waiting for something to happen. 

And then the girl smiles brightly as recognition swoops over her features. Her mouth opens and moves, but her voice drowns out before it can reach Nancy. Nancy shakes her head, confusion written over her features. The girl, after thinking for a moment, pulls out her phone and taps furiously over it. 

A moment later, Nancy’s phone pings with a new text:

Claire The Stat Sage: hey!!! wanna come over here? we’re doing a small picnic!! you can bring the bf too!!!

Nancy reads the text several times, absorbing each letter, letting the words imprint themselves over her mind. Some exhilarating burst of joy gleams within her chest, bright enough to rival the sun. Her blood tingles underneath her skin, saturated with excitement. 

For a second, she contemplates the invitation. Should she bring her boyfriend? Nancy turns her head to him, watching for a movement, watching for some kind of opposition. 

When he doesn’t move, she makes her decision. 

She steps forward, towards Claire, the warmth of the Spring evening blanketing her in its comfort. 

Claire smiles at her as she approaches. “Hey! You didn’t bring your boyfriend?”

A pang of guilt strikes Nancy, wondering if perhaps it was a better idea to just wake him up and bring him. But then she gazes past Claire, towards the sun, basking under the glory of it.

She likes not being under the shadows of the trees anymore. 

Shrugging, she plops down, a small smile floating over her lips. “He’s sleeping. He can catch up when he wants to.” 

[jensungf]

𝐌𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 🌌 𝐡.𝐫𝐣

summary: he was your best friend. you should’ve been happy when he went to go ask that girl whether or not she was his soulmate. so why was the universe pulling at your heartstrings now?

pairing: reader x best friend!huang renjun genre: fluff + soulmate!au word count: 1.6k warnings: none

6:23pm. you rolled your eyes as you read the time. where the hell was he?

your focus drifts to the onyx swirls dotted on your wrist, and you subconsciously trace all the scribbles making up your tattoo. you had been impatiently tapping your foot for what felt like forever, but in actuality, was about ten minutes. maybe i should just leave, you thought ruefully as the digit on your lit-up phone screen changed once again.

you had been through this too many times for you to simply count with your fingers. it was almost like clockwork at this point. despite this only beginning months ago, you knew the cycle. renjun would encounter someone, and would feel compelled to chase them down and ask if they were possibly his soulmate. unfortunately, it always ended in rejection.

you were always the one to comfort him when he returned with the same answer like always— that they had found their soulmate or they didn’t feel any connection at all. despite your annoyance of having to be inconvenienced at random hours of the day and having your quality time with him interrupted, you knew deep down it hurt you just as much as it hurt him.

yet you never once considered the reality that perhaps he would actually find his soulmate one day, and how that mere possibility would change your entire life.

if renjun was seriously going to confront that girl with a simple question of whether or not she was his soulmate, what was taking them so long? surely he would’ve texted you by now if he was successful, knowing you were still waiting for him. or at least let you know he was on his way back.

you winced at the thought that he might be too busy engaging in other endeavors, ones that involved less talking and more touching. you shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of those thoughts, burying the odd feelings that made your stomach twist and turn. no, that wasn’t the renjun you knew. he wouldn’t be as daring as that despite his growing impatience to find his soulmate. besides, you wanted him to find his soulmate. there was no reason for your heart to twinge at the chance that maybe this time was the right time. you were his best friend. you were supposed to be happy for him, and hope for the best.

you hastily unlocked your phone, typing out a very annoyed albeit passive aggressive text to your heck of a best friend who decided to abandon you in the middle of your weekly dinner date to chase down a girl. you should’ve just left him moments ago, yet your feet stay planted in your spot outside the moomin plushie store.

“stupid renjun,” you muttered under your breath as you realized that the sky was beginning to settle into a hazy cloud of purple and pink. dusk was always your favorite time of day, yet you couldn’t help but feel a bit embittered that renjun wasn’t here with you to enjoy the view with. just when you were about to click send, a shadow casts over your figure and you lift your head.

“hey,” renjun says simply. his hands are shoved deep into his cream-colored denim jacket and he gazes at the sky instead of at you, causing you to stare quizzically at him.

“so....” you cock your head at his silence and wait for him to answer the obvious question. however, he makes no move to look you in the eyes. you hesitate, unsure what to do at your best friend’s abnormal silence.

usually he would be telling you that it wasn’t the right person and he had made a fool out of himself again or something along those lines, but this time, he remained silent. his eyes still avoid yours and you feel panic bubbling up in your chest. why was he acting like this? had something gone wrong?

“can i... try something?” he breaks the silence, asking quietly, almost as if he would break glass if he spoke any louder. he leans in slowly, and you freeze, your breath hitching. your mind screams for you to move away, to question what he was doing and whether he was in his right mind. yet your heart palpitates erratically and you make no move to turn away. his dark brown eyes gaze into yours, and you feel your head spinning.

despite your daze, you somehow feel your head nod ever so slightly, almost out of pure instinct with no control of your own body.

albeit with great reluctance, renjun takes this opportunity daringly. he closes the gap separating you both and gently presses his lips against yours. you melt into his warmth, closing your eyes as your hands subconsciously reach up to pull him in closer by gripping his jacket. his hands raise up to gently cradle your head and his lips feel like velvet, pliant against your own. the kiss is delicate yet firm, all hesitance dissipating as the seconds pass. you both pull away for air, but it felt as if you had just taken a deep breath of air for the very first time in your life.

people had told you about how they felt when they found the one, and you had never understood what they meant about how one person could make them feel just right until that very moment. how complete you had felt. your heart tugs almost as if you had finally crossed the thin line separating you from friends and lovers, something you never knew your heart had been aching for until now. you had always had renjun in your life, but you never knew how much he made you feel whole until this very moment. like he was the last missing puzzle piece that had finally found its place in your life, and nothing more could rival the feeling of this very moment.

he rests his forehead against yours and smiles meekly. your head was still reeling, and renjun moved his hand to gently cup your cheek. your mouth opens ajar, as you wrack your mind for the right words to say. “i… what? injunnie—”

he cuts you off by pressing another soft kiss to your lips. your eyes widen at his impulsive action, taken aback by how uncharacteristic that was. “i know you have a lot of questions, but i couldn’t resist,” he admits as pink dusts his cheek.

he entwines his hand with yours, fitting like two puzzle pieces as he leads you to the park bench. he looks up at the hazy sky once again with admiration before explaining.

“i never understood why it was so difficult to find my soulmate, when my tattoo was one of the more common ones,” he confesses as he glanced down to his moon tattoo. although it was indeed not as uncommon as yours, you had always admired the beauty it held, how beautifully and different it was drawn compared to the generic crescent symbols you had seen before.

it was as if renjun had drawn it with his own hand, with every tiny detail matching precisely with his art, his masterpieces. you look at yours, your wrist adorned with tiny scribbles of planets, stars, and even the sun scattered around all in one area.

suddenly it dawns on you. the space separating the sun and planets and stars is no longer empty, instead replaced with a replica of a moon. 

renjun’s moon.

“ever since we reunited with each other, i’ve been feeling more and more desperate to find them because i couldn’t help but feel something towards you, and i couldn’t live knowing you weren’t mine. at least— not until now.”

renjun is absolutely glowing when you look up at him.

“i guess you’re my universe, y/n,” he scoffs with a smile. his eyes meet yours, but despite the firmness in his voice, his telltale signs of embarrassment say otherwise.

and you believe him, because when he smiles at you, it’s as if you were the one who put the sun and moon and stars in the sky, as if you were the center of his galaxy. as if you were his universe.

“i never realized how much i needed you, until i saw that girl. she told me that she was the sun to someone else’s galaxy, and that’s when i realized that i had been trying to push away the pull towards someone who was always beside me for too long. somehow who should’ve been with me all along.”

you both locked eyes before bursting into laughter at his cringeworthy yet heartwarming confession. “when did you become such a cheeseball?” you snort. he locks you in a loving chokehold and your heart nearly skips a beat.

“we both wasted our time, didn’t we?” you remark with a carefree smile. all the worries, the gut feeling that made your head spin, the questions of why you couldn’t feel happy when it came to not having him, disappears within a simple kiss. the puzzle was done. the masterpiece was completed, but what was funny was the mere fact that you had no idea anything was even missing in the first place. you looked down at his wrist, now full with doodles of your galaxy. it glowed just like yours.

“we can make up for lost time.”

you nod and bask in his presence, gazing up at the stars scattered across and the luminescent moon peeking out against the darkness of twilight sky.

soulmates were an odd thing— to simply leave it up to a mere tattoo to connect you both when you had been connected since the very beginning. but you couldn’t have asked for anything more, when fate had already decided that you were his universe, and he was your moon.

you completed each other.

author’s note: i wrote this for @yongiefilms to thank her for being such a good friend and also bc i needed an excuse to post smth while i work on my main wip! i seem to have a curse where i cant write blurbs cus they end up turning into drabbles. oops? also i spent wayy more time on the header than the actual story lol ANYWAYS yay to my first renjun fic <3

[pocket-void]

Hi Mock!

I wish you a good morning! (It's currently 8:30 am here and I hope you are asleep wherever you are because healthy sleep schedules and all that!) 🌻

I just found out that you write, too, and I've read "A cup of coffee" and honestly, is there something you can't do? Because that was really great! I enjoyed reading it so much!! And I love your Logan in it!

And can I ask: where so you get the motivation to do all this great stuff? Drawing, writing, school? Like, I have like 5 different writing projects screaming at me because I don't work on them and yesterday I outlined yet another fic that I'll probably never write because I just don't have the motivation and - how do you do it? Because I want to write. It's the best thing in the world to me. But I just can't get myself to do it, and when I do, everything I make feels kinda... not good. Ugly, if you will.

So I guess I just want to know what I can do to get myself away from that? Because I really need to write, I'll go insane otherwise O_o

Anyway, have a wonderful day and eat a cookie!! 🌼

Y’all who can format stuff in asks will never cease to bamboozle me. O///o

But hello!! I believe it’s the afternoon where you are now! ^\\\^ (Not to worry, if there’s one thing I try to get enough of it’s sleep!)

Heidhwkfns Yes I write too but it’s incredibly on and off since I’m not as confident with it and it takes much longer than art! >\\\< I 100% want to write more often tho, but my need to accomplish stuff just finds art less time consuming. I’m really glad you like “A Cup of Coffee” because I’m quite happy with how that one turned out! ^\\\^ (And also just genuinely surprised at how many people enjoyed it) So thank you!! ;///;✨💖

So, here’s the thing. I’m just a normal person, just like anybody else! There are days where I have 0 motivation to do anything, and days where I’m way too motivated but still do absolutely nothing anyways lmao- I can’t say that my experience will work for everybody of course, but I can try to explain how I feel or how I work things out when I don’t feel like doing things. u///u

The first step is to forgive myself, because it’s going to be ok. There’s nothing wrong with having an off day, and nothing wrong with not accomplishing anything for now. There should be no guilt involved in not touching something for ages, god knows I’ve got so much in the “maybe later” idea box that I will never get to. But that’s ok! My creations will never blame me for not working on them, so in turn I promised to never blame myself for it either. And if I ever go back to complete one of them, great! But if not, that still doesn’t mean that it was a waste. Everything you make has value, finished or not.

The second is to remember that I love them. I love them a lot. I love creating, I love art, I love writing, and I love the process behind them! What you write and create will never complain if they are “not the best” or “ugly”. Their value comes from how you feel about them. Nobody else’s imput matters. So what if it’s not great? So what if it’s a mess? My terrible crayon drawing from when I was 4? Love it. Still has my whole heart. They’re on my bedroom wall to this day! (Neatly framed and hung, courtesy of my dad) I ask myself why I sat down to do something in the first place, and the answer is always going to be because I love doing it! Everything I make means something to me, no matter how bad or how small. Because at the end of the day, I made something. And it’s all the reason I need to love it.

It doesn’t matter if this doodle looks bad or this draft makes literally no sense because even if it’s not good, I did it. Even if I feel like I’m going nowhere, I know that each creation is a small step in my long long journey of improvement. It might not seem like that sometimes, like everything we do doesn’t really seem like it’s getting better any time soon, but we can never tell unless we keep doing it right? Instead of being upset that I’m not very good now, I decided to try and look forward to how good I eventually will be. I find that prospect exciting! We never know how much we grow until we get there, it’s like a happy surprise! ^\\\^✨And in the meantime, I am allowed to be perfectly happy with what I already can do. How far I’ve already come. Even if other people tell me otherwise, even if it’s true that it’s not very great, who’s to say that I will always be? Not me, that’s for sure.

I am willing to be patient for the sake of what I do, because I am willing to do it for an eternity.

There is no race in doing what I love, because I am the only one on this path. I can see other people on their own paths too! And sometimes they’re faster and have way better stamina than me, but their final destination is ultimately going to be much much different than mine, even if we’re going in a similar direction. So there is no point in trying to match them; I decide to walk at my own pace. It’s much easier for me this way. Take breaks! Drink some water. We’ve all got our places to go. ^\\\^

Third thing about getting things done is, well, getting it done! Do you know how I wrote “A Cup of Coffee”? I pain stakingly stared at it all day with frequent breaks in between, read it a ridiculous amount of times until it didn’t sound like english, and had text to speech read it back to me a couple more times just so I could make sure, because I really really really wanted to finish it. And it probably was kind of messy, hahaha. >\\\<

I’m not suggesting you do what I did btw, because it’s not even how I always write things! My other story “Table for Two” was written under a much different context. For that one, I wrote parts of it on different days. I took walks thinking about how I’d word things, how I’d imagine the scene going, and how I should pace sentences. I actually deleted the entire first paragraph and started over a few times because it didn’t sound right. Then one afternoon I decided that I wanted this story done. So I sat down and did what I could, edited a few things afterwards, and tentatively showed it to a friend. I didn’t edit it much after that, but it was done!

If I learned anything from highschool, it’s that doing something imperfectly is better than not doing it at all. I’m still a pretty picky perfectionist and a terrible procrastinator, and it’s not easy! But I would much prefer something I make to be “messy but complete”, rather than “pretty good so far but not finished”. Personally for me, getting started is the hardest part of doing anything. I have yet to find an easier way to do it, but I know that sometimes I just need to sit down and do what I can to start writing. If a sentence sounds weird, I keep going, because I can come back to it later! But if a sentence doesn’t exist, I can’t fix that without, well, writing it. o///o So I consider that a start!

I definitely understand you when you say that you can’t get yourself to write because I currently kind of can’t either. >\\\< I have outlines that I won’t ever write, I have ideas that I’m not gonna get to, and I’ve got fics that I worry won’t be as good when I write them. But maybe today I’ll sit myself down and just write one sentence. Give it a title, make a document, and stare for a lil bit. Give it a beginning. Because for me, sometimes drawing the starting line somewhere helps. Maybe it can show me what direction I need to go in just a little bit clearer. u///u

At the end of the day, the thing I say all the time is enjoy what you do. It’s just genuinely the most important part of doing anything to me. Yes it can be hard and sometimes we worry about how it’s gonna be, but we still do it don’t we? We come back and try again because we love it. Because we really can’t live without it. So what’s wrong with just...doing it?

That’s how it is to be a creator for me, I suppose. And from one to another, I genuinely wish you the best of luck on your journey!!

After all, there will be no other quite like it. u///u💖✨

[pines-troz]

Pay Up - Gravity Falls Oneshot

Summary: Dipper finds an antique magnifying glass in the Gift Shop that he wants to keep. Grunkle Stan wants his nephew to pay extra, but Dipper has a trick up his sleeve. 

Word Count: 1,170

Genre: Family, Humor

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714506

AN: This fic takes place at some point during season one, after the events of Irrational Treasure and Summerween. One of the things I love about Dipper is how sassy and snarky he can be, and it’s a shame that some folks in the fandom gloss over that quality. So I wanted to write up a short story that’s essentially humorous banter between Dipper and Grunkle Stan. 

Working part-time at the Mystery Shack was a drag for young Dipper Pines. The curious adventurer could be out exploring the woods with his twin sister Mabel or solving the various mysteries that lay within Journal 3. But he was wasting away a golden afternoon working for his money-obsessed Grunkle who paid no heed to child labor laws. 

The place was empty, given that it was a Wednesday afternoon and not many tourists came by to visit, and it was just him and Grunkle Stan inside the Gift Shop. Soos and Mabel were busy washing the golf carts outside and Dipper was left to sweep the floor while Grunkle Stan manned the cash register since Wendy had called in sick. 

Dipper had finished up cleaning the floor and scanned around the store, satisfied with the hard work he put in. His gaze moved from the floor up to one of the bins where an antique magnifying glass caught the young detective’s attention. The boy walked over to the bin and gingerly picked up the precious magnifying glass. He carefully inspected the item, noting the quality condition of the glass and brown handle. Grunkle Stan must have stolen this item since it didn’t match the shoddy quality of the other items up for sale. 

He also pondered over the practical uses he could have with the magnifying glass. Sure, Journal 3 already had a magnifying glass attached to a string, Dipper only occasionally used it when reading through the mysterious text each night before going to bed. Dipper figured that he could use a portable magnifying glass during his excursions through the enchanted woods or at the library, where he would conduct research on the town’s history. And a part of him wanted to emulate his favorite fictional detectives, Sherlock Holmes (whom Dipper outsmarted earlier in the summer), and The Sibling Bros., one of his favorite YA protagonists. 

The magnifying glass looked too valuable to be placed in a gift shop filled with cheaply-made trinkets, like Mr. Mystery bobble-heads or other items that matched his Grunkle’s ego, and he would not stand idle and allow a blissfully ignorant tourist purchase it before he could. The antique item truly was a diamond in the rough, and Dipper was determined to obtain it by any means necessary!

Grunkle Stan was busy counting up the money cash register while filling Wendy’s post in her absence. “Called in sick, a likely story...” Stan thought to himself. He stopped counting the money in the cash register when he noticed Dipper looking at a magnifying glass he recently put in stock. 

“You know the rules kid, hands off the merchandise.” The con man gruffly reminded the boy. 

“Actually, I want to have this if that alright.” Dipper insisted. 

“Well then you’re gonna have to pay full price.” Stan countered. 

“Oh come on,” Dipper groaned, frustrated that his own family would make such a ludicrous demand. “Couldn’t you give me a family discount at least?”

Grunkle Stan knew Dipper would bring this up, but he came prepared with a counterargument. “I let you and your sister pick out one item from the Mystery Shack for free.” 

Dipper adjusted his iconic blue pine tree hat. He was grateful to get another one after losing his old hat in the woods during a battle with the gnomes earlier in the summer. Even though he appreciated Stan’s first subtle display of affection, it did not negate how annoyed he was of his Grunkle’s grubbiness when it came to business transactions. 

“Now I don’t want you gettin’ any more freebies or discounts from the gift shop.” Stan asserted.  “What do you think I pay you kids for anyway?” 

“You don’t pay us jack squat!” Dipper objected. “You know, the more I think about it, I feel like the Mystery Shack could benefit from a workers’ union!” 

It was at that moment that Stan became infuriated. He had just enough from this little smart alec. “Okay wiseguy, you’re paying an extra five bucks for that magnifying glass!” The con man shouted, crossing his arms smugly. “Now that’ll be ten bucks, kid.” 

Dipper rolled his eyes and turned away from the cash register. Of course, Grunkle Stan would want to jack up the price in retaliation. He reached into his vest pocket and felt a crinkled up dollar bill. But it was no ordinary piece of American currency, but rather an outdated piece of money granted to him by Quentin Trembly the Third Esquire, the Eighth-and-a-Half President of the United States of America. 

Dipper grinned menacingly, knowing that he had the upper hand. 

The boy turned around, playing the role of the defeated party as he wore a sullen frown. “Okay Grunkle Stan, I surrender. I should be more grateful that you pay me in food and lodging as opposed to minimum wage.” 

“You’re darn right, Dipper!” Stan emphasized. 

As soon as Dipper placed the bill into Stan’s calloused hand, he took his prize and sprinted towards the exit. “Success!” He thought to himself as he made his escape. 

Grunkle Stan smiled to himself. “Aha! Victory is mi-” He inspected the dollar to find not the face of Alexander Hamilton, but the face of some mutton-chopped weirdo with -12s on each corner. What is this malarkey?!? 

“A negative twelve dollar bill!” Stan yelled in disbelief. “This is absolutely worthless!” 

Suddenly the bell rang as the door to the Gift Shop opened and Dipper poked out from behind.  “It’s less than worthless!” He replied before slamming the door shut.

Grunkle Stan was left alone in the Gift Shop, feeling like a complete goon. He looked at the less-than-worthless currency in the palm of his hand. To think that his nephew had duped him out of some magnifying glass. Dipper had played him like a fiddle, and yet, he wasn’t upset at the slightest. 

In fact, Stan was very proud of Dipper. 

Tears of joy started swelling in his eyes. He had hoped to teach the kids valuable lessons in the art of pulling off schemes. Heck, their first bonding lesson of making counterfeit Benjamins had landed him in jail. But Stan had been smarter about his crimes. The last family bonding they had involved stealing decorations for Summerween, and only paying the cashier using Stan Bucks. Now Dipper had learned from the best and even added his own flair to his little crime. Instead of making up his own fake currency with amateur doodles, the kid used some sort of negative money that resembled a typical dollar bill to avoid paying extra for some magnifying glass, and he actually got off scot-free! 

Ever since Dipper and Mabel arrived, all he ever wanted was to connect with the kids, even using his unorthodox measures of pulling off cons and schemes. He was overjoyed that Dipper took it upon himself to beat him at his own game. 

“Heh. Conned by my own nephew.” Stan said to himself as he looked at the fake money in his hands. 

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 14

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Leo's fear raises its head at the worst possible moment.

A/N: Finally some (slight) drama after I've drowned all of you in fluff in the previous chapters. Also, it was pretty exciting for me to finally get to explore Leo's studying life a bit more in this chapter.

I also want to take this opportunity to advertise a future fic of mine that I /hope/ to finish by the end of this week. The past week I've been working on a post ToN Caleo one-shot which is already over 4000 words long and at this point mainly needs some heavy editing to be posted. So stay tuned for that too if you like this ship!

Big big thanks to Cris for helping me a whole lot with this chapter! I really needed your science knowledge :’)

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! And remember that comments are the only reward I get so they would be much, much appreciated!!

Characters in this ch: Calypso, Leo. Jason, Percy, Annabeth

Words: 3000+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

“Mister Valdez? Are you listening?”

Leo snapped out of his daze. He was at his engineering math class and for the past 15 minutes the professor had been explaining to the group a problem that had taken Leo about 2-3 minutes to solve. Usually he did something else while listening to his professors; finish more calculations (sometimes even ones they weren’t assigned to do), doodle blueprints and ideas for future inventions into his notebook, write down a new joke he had come up with, or text Jason that he was bored. Weirdly enough, doing all that other stuff helped him to focus on what was going on in the lecture.

However, this time his mind was elsewhere; it kept showing him images of a girl with shoulder length reddish brown hair, dark brown eyes that seemed a bit harsh at first but softened when she laughed at his joke, a couple of freckles on her light skin… He could also hear her laughter and smell the cinnamon scent that probably came from the shampoo she used in his head. The previous evening had gone so well but he had no idea what to make of it; even if he did like Calypso (which he wasn’t quite ready to admit yet), could anything ever happen? They were flatmates. Things would sure get complicated if they got together and then broke up and would barely stand each other’s company… Besides, who was to say she’d ever like him? Sure, sometimes she seemed amused by his jokes but what other reasons did he give for her to like him? Not much, he felt.

Leo started to get frustrated because he couldn’t get those thoughts out of his head and he might have started to growl to himself if the professor hadn’t called him at that exact moment.

“Yes?” Leo answered unsurely, not having heard what the professor had asked.

“Good. Then you can tell me what the solution to this problem is.” The professor pointed at the long and complicated looking problem on the whiteboard.

Leo sighed of relief on the inside. They were still talking about the same problem that he had solved over 10 minutes ago. He could do this.

“X is 3,65, Y is 5,51 and Z is 7,24,” he said, sounding almost bored.

“That is correct,” the professor said, badly hiding his surprise. He had thought this kid who seemed to be living in his dream world would be utterly confused by his question. He turned his attention back to the rest of the class and continued: “Of course, the easiest way to solve this equation is to divide X with… Yes, Mister Valdez?”

“Actually, I disagree,” Leo said, now completely awake. “Why would you divide it when you can…”

“Which one of us is the professor here, Mister Valdez?” the professor cut him off. “You may think you know how to do this but there are plenty of students here who aren’t quite as advanced and that’s why it’s better to show them one way to do it rather than to confuse them by....”

“Yeah, right, my bad,” Leo said sarcastically. “If these students are so simple minded, then why don’t you give them more practical problems to solve? You know, things we might actually need in the work life instead of… that,” he pointed at the whiteboard.

A couple of people were brave enough to nod and hum in agreement to Leo’s comments but there were also a few that started laughing.

“Alright, that’s it, Mister Valdez. Leave my class.”

Leo obeyed gladly (that class was such a waste of time anyway). He packed his things and headed out of the room, grinning widely as he left to let the professor know he hadn’t won that battle. It was almost lunch time so he decided to already go to the cafeteria to wait for Jason whose class wasn’t too far either.

About 15 minutes later Jason showed up, and to Leo's surprise he also had company. Percy Jackson did occasionally join them for a game night or a sparring session but Leo almost exclusively saw him outside the university. From what he knew Percy was currently focusing on his swimming career and wasn’t studying anything. Now he had however joined Jason for lunch and that made Leo wonder if there was some specific reason for that.

“Hey, man,” Jason greeted. “You’re early today. Are they having enchiladas or something?”

“Nah,” Leo shook his head. “I may have gotten kicked out of the class.”

“What did you do this time?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Nothing, really!” Leo exclaimed. Jason kept looking at him suspiciously, though, so he had to add eventually: “Fine, I may have disagreed with the professor about some of his methods, but really, that’s all. Didn’t blow up the lab or anything like that.”

“One time when I was in the high school I told the teacher his pants were unzipped and I wasn’t allowed to participate in his classes for a whole week after that. Didn’t miss much, though, he sucked as a teacher,” Percy joined the conversation.

“That’s exactly what I thought about this guy!” Leo said and gave Percy a high five. “Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the pool at this hour.”

“Just checking the places,” Percy shrugged. Leo raised his eyebrow questioningly. “Fine, Annabeth thinks that at some point I should start thinking about my career after swimming so Jason said he could show me around today so I’d get an idea what it’s like here. Oh and, he promised me a free lunch.”

“Makes sense,” Leo said while already looking at the menu eagerly. “I’d come here for a free lunch too.”

“You pay for this one, though,” Percy pointed out.

“Back to the actual topic ,” Jason said, looking at Leo a bit worriedly. “You didn’t get into big trouble with that professor, did you?”

“I think he’ll go back to ignoring me again in the next class. “ Leo replied. “So no need to worry.”

“Good. It’s just that, after that last lab incident…” Jason started, referring to an incident that had happened in the previous semester, but Leo stopped him.

“I said no need to worry,” Leo said a bit louder. “I’ve got things sorted, OK? Just… let’s go to get that damn lunch now. Chili con carne, anyone?”

In reality, Leo knew that if he skipped one more lab class, the professors wouldn’t be that understanding. The saddest part about it was that he actually enjoyed the lab classes way more than the boring theory classes because there you got to try things out with your own hands, but… there was one big but. He couldn’t be there when…

“Leo?” he heard Jason’s voice somewhere nearby

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You were just totally zoned out, I was talking to you like a full minute and I don’t think you heard anything I said,” Jason pointed out.

“Oh, sorry. Lots going on in my mind. So, what did you say?” Leo asked.

“I was asking about when we should meet up on Saturday? I have soccer practice in the morning and Piper has a meeting with her theater group at 1 pm but we’re free after that.”

“I have to ask Cal but I think I can organize my work so I’d be free any time after 4 pm.”

“Alright, sounds fine to me,” Jason said, but Leo could sense that he was still wondering what had been bothering him that much.

“So who’s this Cal person?” Percy asked when the boys made it to the buffet tables.

“My new flatmate,” Leo said simply, currently more interested in filling his plate than elaborating on his living situation.

“OK. I was just wondering because Annabeth mentioned that she’d been at your place, and apparently she’d helped to give this flatmate of yours a makeover.”

“Oh, yeah!” Leo said, remembering that meeting quite vividly. “From what I’ve heard they’ve been hanging out quite a lot lately. That’s good because… well, she’s new here.” Leo was going to say that she doesn’t seem to have a lot of people in her life, but decided that he didn’t want to reveal too much to someone who had never even met her.

“Where is she from then?”

“I think she moved here from New York,” Leo said. “And she’s around your age. Who knows, you might even know her.”

“New York is a pretty big place,” Percy pointed out. “I guess Cal is a nickname? What’s her full name?”

Leo was going to answer when he spotted the chemistry lab professor in the crowd and he quickly hid behind Jason.

“Don’t let him see me,” Leo said hastily. “He’s gonna…”

Leo didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when he heard the said professor say loudly: “Mister Valdez!”

Leo peeked from behind his friend.

“Hola, professor,” he said awkwardly. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Yes you did, you were just trying to hide from me. I wanted to remind you that today is the test day which is 60% of the mark. And that means that…”

“If I skip that test, I will fail the class,” Leo added, looking down at his feet. He didn’t remain like that long, though. “I’ll be there, professor.” He put up a brave face and saluted him as the professor just ‘hmmph’ed and turned away from me.

“I thought you said you have everything in order.” Jason raised his eyebrow once the boys had paid for their lunches and started to look for a table. “That didn’t seem like it.”

“Take care of your own business, Sparky,” Leo grunted and pointed at one empty table not far from them. “Let’s go there.”

“I’m serious, Leo,” Jason continued once they got seated. “Something is bothering you. We are your friends and we do care. You can trust us on this.”

Leo let Jason’s words sink in. Friends. Care. Trust. Since his mother died, he had always been the oddball, the outsider until he got a family who actually cared about him, Jo, Emmie and Georgie, but he still got a bit overwhelmed every time he realized that he really mattered to someone.

“Thanks, man.” Leo said finally. “I’ll… keep that in my mind. Promise.”

“Good.” Jason smiled at him encouragingly. “You can talk to us whenever you feel like it.”

After that the discussion moved to other things. Percy was hopeful that he was fit enough for a new record in his next competition and he didn’t forget to praise her little sister as well. Jason mentioned having seen his father at the campus but he had barely acknowledged his presence. Leo threw a few sarcastic comments here and there to let the others know he was listening. However, he had lost his appetite after hearing about the test. He had barely tasted his lunch and was now moving the rice back and forth on his plate as it got cooler. If the others noticed that, they didn’t say anything, probably thinking that it was better to let Leo open up on his own accord.

The lunch time flew by too fast for Leo’s liking. After separating from his friends he started heading towards the lab where most of the other students were already getting prepared. Taking a deep breath, he stepped in, hoping for the best.

The lab class started with a brief written test that made sure the students were ready for the practice part. This time would be particularly important, though, because it was testing them about pretty much everything they had learned so far in that class, and would be graded accordingly.

The written test caused no problem to Leo. He’d be able to name the lab tools by heart even in his sleep and the calculations weren’t much harder to him. However, he was already dreading the actual practice part for a very specific reason…

In the practice Leo would have to mix a few compounds together to get a chemical reaction. That was the simple part. But unfortunately for him, these said compounds would have to be heated in order for them to react. And of course you’d need a flame to do that. Now that was the hard part for Leo. He hated the gas burners and it had become a habit for him to skip a lab class when he knew they would be used. Unfortunately for him, that was fairly often because apparently the university’s heating plates were used by some other group at the same time, and that was also why he was about to fail this class. But if he could handle using the burner just this once, maybe he’d be fine… He knew he couldn’t afford to fail it because if he did, it might be a sign that he wouldn’t be able to do the job he was so excited about, and that would be a huge slap in his face. Maybe even bigger than he was ready to admit.

He measured the compounds and was ready to heat them when he noticed that a fellow student nearby had accidentally mistaken two of the compounds with each other, ruining the mixture. That gave him an idea.

“Pssst. I can mix a new one for you if you heat this for me.”

“What?” The other student looked at him with confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“I just told you. I can fix that for you.”

“You just want to flex with your skills, that’s all,” the guy said, knowing Leo’s reputation as the genius who however refused to join lab classes. Probably because he felt he was too good for them. “May I remind you that this is a solo practice!” the professor yelled from the front of the class. “No talking allowed.”

“Yes, professor,” Leo said quietly, but rolled his eyes at him when he turned his back. He read the instructions one more time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything and when he was double convinced that he was in the part that he had dreaded, he breathed sharply and picked up his gas burner and some matches. He felt his heart starting to race and his hands starting to shake as he took one match from the box and tried to light it.

He tried once. Twice. Took a deep breath and tried once more. At this point his hands were shaking so furiously that the match fell from his hand. Realizing that he still couldn’t do it, he made a frustrated groan, dropped the match box on the table and started shakily collecting his things.

“Mister Valdez? Did you finish your task?” The professor raised his gaze from his desk and focused on him. A few others turned to Leo’s direction as well.

“No, sir.”

“And why not?”

“I. can’t.” Leo said with a voice so deep and raw that you rarely got to hear it from him. He left his unfinished product on the professor’s desk. Then he threw his bag over his shoulder and doors banging left the class.

He didn’t make it far when he felt his knees going weak and he had to sit down on the closest chair, burying his face in his hands.

…

“Thanks so much for showing me that place! It feels so good to see some nature even this close to the city,” Calypso exclaimed happily to Annabeth as they were walking towards the dorms. Calypso loved nature and she didn’t really feel at home in the concrete jungle, hoping that one day she could afford to buy a house from the countryside. She had once mentioned that to Annabeth who also enjoyed adventuring in the less crowded areas and had promised to take Calypso to one of her favorite parks nearby. They both had had free time from their classes that afternoon so they had decided to take the advantage of that and go to explore a bit.

The park had been pretty, having a small river running through it and little trails circling the trees. Calypso, who had grown near the sea missed seeing bodies of water so even the river had made her feel a little less homesick. The girls had been there for a few hours, taking pictures and having a small picnic while talking about anything and everything that had come to their minds.

Now, unfortunately, it was time to return back to real life and the assignments that were waiting for them at home.

“No problem,” Annabeth replied to Calypso’s comment. “Honestly, I think this break was much needed. I do love architecture and history and all that but sometimes my ADHD kicks in and I just need to get out of the house.”

“Yeah, it helps to focus again afterwards,” Calypso agreed. “Hey, do you have anything special to do this weekend? Leo, I, Piper and Jason are supposed to have a video game night on Saturday and I thought I’d ask if you want to join. You can ask your boyfriend too if you want, of course! I’m sure Leo wouldn’t mind.”

“What time would it be?” Annabeth asked.

“I haven’t asked Leo yet but he does work on Saturdays so probably not very early. Sometime in the evening. I can inform you when I know more,” Calypso promised.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in my mind. My boyfriend has a swimming practice twice a day so he may not be able to join us but I might!”

“Great!”

The girls had reached the area where Calypso lived so they turned to their own directions.

“I’ll contact you!” Calypso said before Annabeth was too far to hear. She waved at her in response.

Calypso was still smiling when she entered her flat, but the smile soon melted from her face when she saw Leo hunched on the couch, looking utterly lost. Calypso approached him cautiously, asking: “What happened?”

Leo patted on the seat next to him, gesturing to her to join him on the couch. She did, but when he didn’t say anything for a while, though, Calypso decided to be bold and wrap her arm around his shoulder. Leo looked at her with dark eyes, still appreciating the gesture.

“I may have to start making new career plans.”

[its-pronounced-quoassoint]

Power Rangers AU

A Sanders Sides fanfiction.

Relationships: romantic Logicality, Demus, Prinxiety, Remile

Warnings: swearing(mainly Remus and Virgil), poorly written fight scenes/minor violence, stupid pining, kissing/making-out/PDA(no smut cause I can’t write that. . . sorry), sympathetic Deceit and Remus, food mentions, more warnings/warning details will be at the tops of chapters

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post).

This fic has been under review for a long time and I hope you all like it. More chapters to follow!

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Chapter 1-Red and Green

Roman wasn't the biggest fan of fifth hour. Sure, school would be out soon and he wouldn't have to deal with the disgrace of a teacher his peers had nicknamed 'Ms. Demon', but that simply wasn't good enough. An hour in her class felt like months to Roman and his B- reflected that perfectly. Roman felt the world grind to a halt and begin a sluggish jog the second that fifth hour bell rang and there was no way of getting out of it. The only upsides to the class were his passing grade and the ability to listen to music without his teacher realizing. Most of the time Roman found himself discretely nodding his head to a spotify broadway playlist and doodling aimlessly, wishing to whoever could read his thoughts, that something interesting would happen.

On this particularly sunny day, his prayers would receive an answer. 

'Ms. Demon' was twenty minutes into her monotone explination of another pre-calc unit, when the alarm system went off. Roman along with thirty other sleep-deprived teenagers jumped and looked around panicked. If he remembered correctly, this alarm meant they were under attack yet again.

Fricking Dragon Witch always interrupting me while I’m listening to The Prom, Roman thought, begrudgingly taking out his earbuds.

The P.A. system crackled to life and everyone turned to face the speakers. 

"Students, remain calm, this is not a drill, we are under attack." The voice of the vice-principal stated, clearly shaken. "Your instructions are as follows, leave your belongings where you are and stay in your classrooms. I repeat, stay calm and stay in you-"

The power cut off. People began quietly standing up and searching for their phones. A few students even began a hesitant walk to the door. Roman felt his heart beat and breathing quicken as a girl in his class opened the door and examined the hall, no other students had dared to walk the hallways. It was eerily quiet in the school as the hairs on Roman's arms and neck stood up. Suddenly a scream down the hall echoed to everyone's horror, followed by the collapsing of a wall and thunderous yells of fear and anguish. A wave of students began racing down the hall. Screaming and crying filled Roman's ears. Roman jumped up, he shoved his phone and ear buds in his pocket and hopped over desks to get out of the door. He looked down the hall to see a part of the building completely in rubble and more students running for cover. He began following the crowd, helping fallen students and frantically searching for his brother. 

Remus has world economics this hour I think. Run, run, turn left, run, on your right. Find Remus, find Remus. Roman began chanting instructions to himself. He reached Remus' classroom and looked inside to find it empty. Hoping that his twin had run for cover with the others, Roman ran to leave the school. He continued calling Remus's name and ran himself winded, letting the crowd pull him along. Remus was nowhere to be found. Roman’s twin was strangely tall and wore obnoxious clothing, so he should be easy to spot, but as hard as Roman tried, he couldn’t see him. 

Roman stopped where he was, a mistake as he soon learned after getting run into by several other students. He knew his brother would have grabbed his phone, so Roman pulled up Snapchat and checked the map to see if Remus was there. He found the icon and saw that Remus was quickly leaving the McDonald's across the street. 

"Remus I swear." Roman grumbled and continued his run. 

He made it out of the school and was immediately bombarded by the sound of the fight behind him. Roman wasted no time racing to find Remus. 

"Remus! Remus! Where are you?! For godsake Remus! I will-"

"ROMAN!!!" Remus' screeching was heard above the crowd and Roman ran to him. 

"You were at McDonald's!?!?!" Roman scolded once he had reached Remus. 

"I was skipping alright! You try sitting in that class for an hour everyday!" Remus retaliated. 

"I do sit in that class for an hour everyday Remus!" Roman yelled back. Remus looked like he was going to give a snarky retort, but suddenly he grabbed Roman's shirt and pulled the both of them to the right. Roman stumbled around and looked to where he had previously been standing, to see that Remus had pulled him away from falling debris just in time. He shook off Remus's hand and the two began sprinting for cover behind the nearest building.  

The twins leaned against it, catching their breaths. Roman ran his hands along his face, wiping off sweat and dust. He decided to sneak a look at the battle from where he was and peeked around the brick building. There the Black Ranger was wielding his axe and attacking the Dragon Witches's minions. He sliced through several of them and proceeded to dash through another horde of them, cutting each one down. Roman watched, mesmerized, barely noticing Remus move beside him to watch the battle unfold. The aliens appeared to have stopped arriving and the Black Ranger made quick work of the remaining ones. The battle looked almost won. 

Then Roman saw it. A hurling ball of purple fire rappidly falling from the sky. The Black Ranger didn't seem to have noticed it and Roman began to fear he wouldn't have time as it continued its descent. Suddenly he felt his body get the best of him and Roman jumped out from his hiding place. 

"BLACK RANGER, ABOVE YOU!!!!" Roman shouted. 

"What the hell are you-" Remus tried to pull him back, but looked over to see the Black Ranger narrowly dodge out of the way of the purple fire. 

More fire began raining from the sky directed at the Black Ranger who managed to dodge it the best he could. 

"Can you just stop moving!" A voice suddenly yelled out.  

A humanoid figure dropped from the sky and looked at the Black Ranger, more annoyed than angry, certainly a change from the typical attacker. The villain’s black and purple armor spiked up and circled their body. Six purple eyes glowed bright under the shadow cast by their hair and pointed crown. Considering the other cartoonish monsters the Black Ranger has fought, this one was pretty minimalistic.

"Sorry, but I don't exactly plan on dying any time soon." The Black Ranger stated. "You on the other hand-"

"Yes, yes, justice will be served, peace will be restored, blah blah, trust me buddy, no one wants me dead more than I do m’kay." The villain crossed their arms and shook their head. "But look, my mom is pissed and if I die she's just gonna bring me back and have me fight you all over again. So do us both a favor and let me capture you." 

"Not a chance!" 

"Ugh." The villain threw their head back and whined. "Why can't this ever be easy."

"Being evil will never be easy as long as heroes are around to stop you!" 

"I. Get. It." The villain puncutated each word with a clap. “Look, just turn yourself in and let's get this over with."

"I'll never surrender to you!" 

"Great." The villain groaned again before disappearing and reappearing behind the Black Ranger. 

The Ranger turned around and blocked the purple fire that was blasted at him. He continued dodging each fireball thrown. The fight continued as the villain lobbed purple fire and the Black Ranger battled on the defensive, clearly trying to minimize futher damage. Then, an opening appeared and the Ranger charged, shoving his axe at the villain who dodged and blasted him with fire on the back. The Ranger fell to the ground in pain and accidentally dropped the axe as he rolled. He began crawling to his weapon as the villain approached. 

“Remus! We gotta help!” Roman whisper-yelled at his brother.

“Why?!” Remus exclaimed. 

“C’mon just grab something!” Roman told him. 

Remus and Roman quietly snuck out of their hiding place and each grabbed the closest heavy object. Roman found a street sign that had been uprooted while Remus grabbed the nearest trash can. The two snuck closer to the villain and Ranger as fast as they could. 

"I'm not gonna do any of that 'any last words?' stuff.” They said, looming over the Black Ranger, fire swirling around their hand as it pointed at his chest. “We both know I'm not gonna kill you so-"

That was when Remus full-force chucked the trash can at the back of the Villain. They stumbled and flailed a little before regaining composure and turning to face the brothers.

"Ow, what the-dude!" They rubbed the back of their neck. 

Roman chose that moment to swing the sign at the at the villain who teleported away.

"You have no clue what your doing now, do ya?" The villain asked from behind the two condescendingly. 

"Wha-"

Suddenly, the Black Ranger's axe was thrown into the villain's side. They winced and looked down at the wound. Roman saw as purple blood began seeping out of their newest gash.

"Dammit." The villain said flatly before disappearing, the axe dropping to the ground.

Roman and Remus looked around for them fervently.

"Don't worry, he's not coming back." The Ranger told them, in clear pain. 

"He isn't?" Roman asked. 

"No, but he'll be sending more minions to attack us. You two need to run." The Ranger told them. 

"No way! You're hurt!" Roman protested. 

"How did you get hurt anyway, doesn't that suit make you basically indistrucable?" Remus raised his eyebrows.

"To some weaker attacks yes, but a full strength blast from Prince Virgilius is gonna hurt bad." The Ranger winced. 

"I didn't understand anyting you just told me." Remus stated matter-of-factly.

"That's because you have an I.Q. of negative twenty." Roman sneered.

"Says the one who almost failed seventh grade social studies." Remus retorted.  

"Geography is a hack and you know it!" Roman huffed.

Remus looked ready to say something in return, but was cut-off when hordes of minions began spilling into the Earth through a breach in dimension. 

"Like I said, minions." The Black Ranger sighed. "Run."

Roman raced beside the Ranger and put his left arm over Roman's shoulders. He began helping the Ranger along and the three began trying to get away from the swarms of minions, but were caught up to quickly.

"Roman, you need to leave me so I can fend them off. You and Remus have to run." The Black Ranger told them.

"No, you need help Sir, we can't let you-" Roman started.

"How does he know my name?" Remus asked no one in perticular.

"-protect us when you’re injured and I know you’re the Black Ranger, but you can’t fight all of them off alone!” Roman finished.

“Please listen!” The Ranger interrupted the both of them. “We don’t have much time before we’re completely surrounded, so you two better start running!”

“We are not leaving you!”

“You don’t decide who I can and cannot leave behind Roman!” Remus screeched.

“Will you shut up!” Roman stopped him. “I’m sorry, but like I said, Power Ranger or not, you shouldn’t be fighting alone like this. So, Remus, grab the nearest stabby-thing and let’s help him defend Earth from aliens.”

It was quiet for a bit. The Ranger didn’t seem to want to argue any longer and was more focused on the massive amount of aliens running toward the three. Remus laced his fingers together in front of his face like he was praying and looked at Roman.

“Ro Ro-“

“Please don’t call me that.”

“You had me at ‘stabby-thing’.” Remus sighed before turning away and beginning his search for said 'stabby-thing'.

Roman did the same, quickly scrambling over to pick up the sign he had used earlier. Roman stood next to the Ranger and smiled at him. Preparing himself for the battle before him. Then the minions were on them.

One after another the monsters attacked Roman and the Ranger. Roman slapping one with the sign and forcefully jabbed at the others. He swung the sign around and tried to knock out as many as possible. He wasn’t as effective as the Ranger, who though he was hurt, had an actual weapon that could hurt the minions. 

Roman realized his brother was no longer in his line of sight and accidentally let his guard down. Remus, stop going where I can’t see you- Roman’s thoughts were interrupted as one of the aliens grabbed him and held him down. Roman struggled against the grip and tried to pull himself free, but to no avail. 

Then, something happened. Roman wished he had been able to fully see what was actually going on, but all he really understood was; a red glowing object had come from nowhere and wrapped itself around Roman’s right wrist. 

“Roman!” The Black Ranger called from a ways away. “Listen to me!”

“Okay!” Roman yelled back, trying to get a better look at what had just attached itself to his wrist, but the minion just tightened its grip.

“I need you to say, ‘Red Ranger, activate!’." The Black Ranger told him, trying to keep his voice steady as he fended off the monsters.

"What!?!" Roman squeaked.

"Say it! Trust me!!" The Ranger called.

"Red Ranger!! Activate!!!" Roman yelled. 

Then his world dissolved. Everything was gone, no monsters, no Ranger, no Remus, nothing. Just a blank area. Roman looked around, it was silent except for his own shuffling as Roman stood up. Roman looked toward his hand, finding a red bracelet that had wrapped around his right wrist, seeping red light. The light spread, covering Roman's body. It began to solidify into armor. Roman closed his eyes to protect himself from the brightness, only to open them and find his head in a helmet. He stared at his body, now covered in a suit similar to that of the Black Ranger. In front of him a red glowing blob began taking form. Roman stared, bewildered, as the red light formed a sword, the blade jagged and intricately designed, the hilt pointed toward Roman, as if imploring him to take hold of it. Roman complied, gripping the sword tight, and closing his eyes once again as he was fully enveloped in red light. 

Roman opened his eyes and found himself standing in a small clearing of monsters. The minions staring at him an awe. Roman felt a grin stretch across his face as he brought the sword back a little and thrust it forward into one of the monsters. It collapsed into dust and Roman continued. The monsters fell out of their daze and Roman made his way to the Black Ranger helping him cut each of the aliens down. 

---

A long ways away, Remus was running like a mad man trying to escape the aliens who had followed him. He cursed them and their bloodline, soon finding his breath shortnening. He cursed his dramatic brother one last time before collapsing on the ground. He took in several deep breaths and tried to get up, only to have his vision turn blurry and his head spin. The boy fell back down again, waiting for the aliens to come and eat him alive. However, before he could meet his demise, Remus felt a sharp pressure apply itself to his left wrist. A cool metal object had encircled around him and Remus could feel it pulse a little. He tried to look at it but was once again met with a dizzy, sickening feeling. 

Then, his world was white. 

---

Roman saw from the other side of the block as a green flash exploded from the ground. Before he could ask the Black Ranger what that was about, he was attacked by another swarm of aliens. Which he made quick work of. The ground became littered in dust and it looked like the aliens were losing their high numbered advantage.

“Roman!” Remus’ voice cut across the courtyard.

“What?!” Roman shouted back snappily.

Roman turned to his brother’s voice and saw a suit much like his own and the Black Ranger’s, but green. Remus barreled toward the two swinging a spiky mace in his hands. He turned several of the minions to nothing and met Roman and the Black Ranger in the middle of it all.

--

Soon, each alien had been destroyed and the three stood among dust. 

“This is amazing.” Remus breathed swiftly. He swung the mace around playfully.

“This is insane.” Roman nodded aggressively. Catching his breath forthe first time in a while. “Are-are we Rangers now?”

“Welcome to the team.” The Black Ranger laughed weakly. He grabbed his side yet again and looked at the twins. “You two need to come with me.” 

[indiavolowetrust]

Matthew 7:7

SUMMARY:  "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

Satan tutors a particularly curious, chatty student.

Notes: This MC is based on various female saints. Prior to falling into the Devildom, this MC lived in Catholic rural Spain -- hence the name Maria Cruz (MC). This fic explores the possibility of demons having their own language outside of the MC's native language, as well as Satan's inner wrathful nature.

1

My head pulses with the reverberation of the rain, the battering against the windowpane a thunderous, steady march. While I can’t quite fathom how the Devildom has changes in weather -- outside of temperature changes, that is -- it is difficult to do anything but take the anomaly in stride. In a realm crowded with demons, angels, and beings dangerously akin to monsters, it would be only a headache to dwell on it. A waste of time.

But aside from that, it is comforting. A vague resemblance to a typical autumnal rain. If I close my eyes for a moment, I can almost imagine that I am in one of Sister Marta’s classes again: bored, tapping my pen against the wooden desk, and on the verge of sleep, the sound lulling me into a placid state. Sister Marta would drone on and on about the syntax and grammar of Latin, citing various points in scripture. My pen would scrawl doodles and notes alike, creating looping whorls on my paper. And the occasional running line for each time I nodded off, of course. The storm would rage on and on, drawing my eyes to the rivulets of droplets on the window, and my patience and attention would slowly slip into nothingness.

I regret doing so each and every day that I spend in the Devildom.

I take another glance at the two books strewn on the desk, attempting to focus again. A compilation of notes sits beneath my hand, the two tomes in Latin and Enoch flipped open to what should be the same page. My fingers cramp from writing so much, protesting the constant workload, but I wholly ignore the sensation. If I had paid more attention in Latin class, I would be able to translate Enoch better. If I hadn’t drifted off so much and ignored Sister Marta, I wouldn’t have such a noticeable accent when speaking to the demons of the Devildom. If I hadn’t spent so much time daydreaming about the end of the school day, I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself upon my first arrival in the Devildom. My skin still bristles at the memory: my complete bewilderment, combined with the Lord Diavolo’s lack of foresight to provide me with a translator, had only led to disaster.

A complete idiot, some part of me says, chiding me. You looked like a complete idiot, spouting off nonsensical phrases in Latin. 

Then again, it wasn’t as if I had really believed in demons or angels before. How was I supposed to know that the language of the demons was only a derivative of Latin?

Another clap of thunder nearly shakes the House of Lamentation’s foundation. I read the hands of the grandfather clock: it is only half past midnight. Plenty of time to finish the last five pages of translations and vocabulary practice. I will myself to understand the texts before me, gripping the pen tightly in my hands. I force my eyes to focus. If I am to survive the remainder of my exchange year at RAD, I would have to do a much better job at hiding my humanity -- starting with disguising my Spanish accent. But the words only blur in my vision again, the call of sleep urging my eyelids to close, and I feel myself sway unsteadily in the chair. The stress and fatigue from work hits me all at once. The lull of the storm sings to me, exacerbating my exhaustion. My pen begins to drift off the paper. My head nods forward.

“Maria?”

I blink, immediately forcing myself back to consciousness again. My eyes scan the library, drawing itself over rows of bookshelves and dark mahogany tables. The dim lamp on the desk is dim and flickering, casting long shadows across the room.

And Satan stands in the doorway, looking just as surprised as I am.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, hand still on the doorknob.

I glance down at my notes. I’ve drifted far enough into sleep that I’ve drawn a crooked line over the preexisting words, I realize with embarrassment. I quickly hide the ruined sheet. “Just studying,” I respond. “It’s -- it’s late, isn’t it? What are you doing here?”

Satan arches a brow. “Well, aren’t we curious?”

“Ah, I didn’t mean --”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he dismisses, throwing a smile my way. It does nothing to disarm me, nor does it ease my sense of embarrassment. He reaches one of the bookshelves in the corner of the room with long strides and pulls a book off the shelf, evidently acquainted with the contents and layout of the library. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would read something to relax. I left one of my favorite novels here.”

I nod, trying to hide my discomfort. “I see.”

I look down on my notes again, reading over the newly written content, but I make sure to keep a wary watch over Satan out of the corner of my eye. While traveling to the human world with Satan, Lucifer, and Mammon had helped in forming the bonds between Satan and Lucifer, I cannot say the same for myself. Only a few weeks have passed since Satan’s outburst. Since his threats of, verbatim, slicing off my nose and ears, ripping off my arms and legs, and feeding me to the lower-level demons. While it is easy for someone like Lucifer to simply overlook the transgression, being a demon, it is much more difficult for a human like me to forget the terrifying experience. Satan had clearly meant to make good on his word. If Lucifer hadn’t stepped in, I would likely be nothing more than a pile of torn flesh and bone.

“You’ve gotten pretty proficient,” Satan’s voice says over my shoulder.

I nearly startle out of my chair, turning towards the source of the voice. Satan stands to the side of the desk, leaning as he regards my notes. His gaze draws itself over my notes and the tomes with interest. I shrink back instinctively from his presence, still caught in surprise. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice. The wrathful demon simply nods, as if satisfied by my work.

“So this is how you’ve become fluent so quickly,” Satan remarks, green eyes lighting up. “Tell me, are all humans like this?”

I shake my head. “Not really. It’s -- I just figured it would be a good idea if I learned more Enoch,” I explain hastily, my hands already working to close the tomes and collect my notes. “Didn’t want a repeat of the first few weeks of school.”

“Well, it was almost incomprehensible when you first started.”

My cheeks flush. “I --”

“And you’ve improved significantly,” he says. “You should be proud of yourself, human.”

There it is again: that brilliant, faux smile. I merely nod in acknowledgment and utter a small thank you as I gather the rest of my things, closing each tome with finality. Satan steps back as I stand from my seat, bearing various notes, notebooks, and a pen in my hands, and I do my best to offer him a smile in return. A goodbye gesture of sorts. If I am to have my choice in the situation, I will not spend another moment in Satan’s presence. Not alone, anyway. It is late, as it is. He probably wouldn’t be too offended if I made the excuse of exhaustion. I begin to make my way past him, the excuse falling from my lips.

Satan catches me by the arm. I flinch as I regard him, both the surprise and fear registering on my features before I can stop myself -- and Satan lets go immediately, the facade slipping almost imperceptibly. He draws his hand back to his side, the action creating distance between us once more. I stare awkwardly at him for a moment.

“I can tutor you, if you would like,” Satan finally says, breaking the silence. “Tomorrow, same place.”

Say no. Just outright refuse, my conscience advises, attempting to build my resolve. You can tutor yourself just as well as that demon can. Just say no and he’ll leave it alone.

* * *

The tip of the pen emerges from its casing with a gentle click, Satan’s fingers wrapped securely around its base. His eyes scour my written translation for a moment, peering over the frames of his reading glasses. He scratches corrections onto the paper after a moment, then pushes the notebook towards me. His pen taps on the various scrawlings.

Satan pushes his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose, “This word is pretty close, but there are too many connotations for it,” he explains. He writes out various characters in Enoch, pronouncing the syllables of each word. “It’s a bit more formal, but it’ll probably get your point across a little more clearly. Your professors will probably appreciate that.”

I take a look over Satan’s writings, comparing them to the text. As promised -- or mildly coerced, depending on how I regard the circumstances -- Satan had met me in a small library of the House of Lamentation, at least several high-grade novels and other books piled high before him. And, as expected, Satan is nothing but strict in his teachings. Each wrong stroke of an Enochian character leads to a quick, ruthless correction, Satan immediately scratching out the mistakes. Each wrong pronunciation of a word in Enoch incites a tsk from him, his typical gentlemanly countenance making way for his true nature. While it is somewhat reassuring that the demon no longer feels a need to hide his nature from me -- therefore making his outbursts more predictable if they do occur -- I still can’t quite shake the discomfort. The contrast between his outward and inward nature is unsettling.

I sigh inwardly, dispelling the thought. If I had really wanted to refuse, I should have done so right then and there. Because I was given a choice, wasn’t I? An implied choice. I could have said no. I could have refused. But then a memory had suddenly occurred to me, and I found myself completely stripped of my will.

Don’t you dare trifle with me, human, Satan’s voice echoes, the memory still fresh and palpable. If you dare say that you won’t make a pact with me again, you’ll pay for it with your -- 

“What’s wrong?” asks Satan, casting a glance at the space underneath my pen. Empty. “Is there something you don’t understand?”

I blink, then quickly shake my head. “No, I was -- I was just thinking about something.”

“Like what?”

My mind searches for an excuse, eyes inadvertently scrutinizing his appearance. While one would normally wear something more comfortable and casual for bed, Satan is dressed in an almost formal sweater and sweatpants that could be taken for slacks, his hair still perfectly mussed and styled from the school day. Nothing about him is undone. The meticulously thought-out details make me feel nearly out of place with my borrowed, oversized sweater, pyjama pants, and pineapple-like bun of curls sitting on top of my head. A slovenly effort when compared to Satan.

My eyes land on the reading glasses perched on top of his nose.

“Do you need those?” I ask, distracting myself from my own thoughts. “I always imagined demons were all-powerful. Did you have to go to a doctor in the human world to find your prescription?”

Satan looks surprised for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected me to comment. Or notice, depending on how low his expectations of humans are. “Well, no, but I thought they seemed appropriate.”

“You thought I would learn faster if you looked the part?”

“You like to ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” he counters, clearing his throat. “Curiosity killed the cat -- isn’t that what you humans always say?”

“‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back,” I recite, correcting him. I lean in closer to peer at his glasses, my curiosity overtaking my unease around the demon for a moment. The glass is thin, free of any curve in the glass. Moreover, they bear a plain yet distinctive design -- akin to what a gumshoe in a noir novel would wear. My mind flashes back to the book he had pulled off the shelf the other night. “They aren’t real.”

Satan gives me a withering look. “If you knew that, then why did you ask?”

“You’re wearing them because you want to look like Detective Vic Stone from Masking the Shadow,” I observe. Satan’s impassive facade falls for a moment, his flustered state suddenly apparent, and a sense of victory nearly quirks my lips into a smile. A strange sense of victory over the wrathful, figuratively masked demon -- but a victory nonetheless. “You can correct me if I’m wrong.”

Satan brings a hand to his face, partially obscuring the flush over his features. “You try my patience too much. If you have any other questions, I would suggest you ask them now.”

“Just one.”

“I’ll make sure to bind your mouth next time.”

“How much would you like to be paid per session?” I ask, ignoring his words. “I work part-time, so there isn’t really a --”

He cuts me off. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I echo, confused. “If this is because you think me incapable of compensating you, you are sorely mistaken.”

He sighs, obscuring his face as he focuses his attention back on the Enochian tome. Adjusts his glasses again. “Why wouldn’t I?” Satan says matter-of-factly, as if I should be aware of the answer. “That would be like refusing to take home a kitten in the rain. There’s no reason why I wouldn’t help you.”

“But --”

My words die in my throat as Satan places his hand on my head, patting my pineapple-like bun of curls as if I were truly a pet. That fake, polite smile graces his features once more. “You ask too many questions,” he says, his tone halfway to a threat. “Work.”

part 2

[starrynavigator]

I got this letter from Megan and then the first thing she said to me when I found her was she wanted to move out, so I had to write a fic on how that transpired.

Note: megan's nickname for me is lollipop

-----------

"Hhhh..."

Megan let out an anxious sigh. She'd been toiling over this letter for the last half an hour, reading and rereading it, making sure it sounded good enough to send to the resident representative.

"Maybe I should just toss it, this is silly of me to send anyway."

She reached for the garbage bin next to the stand when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"What do you think you're doing, private?"

Megan bolted up, clutching the letter to her chest. Wilbur stood before her. How long had he been there, watching her agonize over this? She blushed, covering her face.

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry Wilbur. I dont mean to waste paper. I just... can't find the words to say what I'm feeling. I thought writing them out would help me feel better, but now that I have them on the page, it just seems silly."

Orville looked up from his book from behind the counter. "I could give it a read, if you'd like. I'm about as impartial as you can get!" He glanced at Wilbur and laughed. "Well, Wilbur too, but he's not much for reading."

Wilbur nodded. "Negatory, this bird has one love, and that love is flight." With that, he picked up his coffee from the desk and walked off into the back.

Orville rolled his eyes. "He's up until 2 am most days watching old compilation videos on NookTube of pilot commands."

He extended a wing to Megan. "Anyway, mind if I take a look?"

Megan fidgeted a little. "Promise you won't laugh?"

Orville snapped to attention, doing a salute. "I would never!"

Megan smiled and handed him the letter. "Let me know what you think."

She waited, watching him read over the page. He looked back at her and grinned. "This sounds just like you, Megan. I wouldn't change a thing."

He cocked his head, a little question mark appearing above it. "What did you get them that took so long to decide on?"

Megan blushed. "Well, I know they like umbrellas, so I thought I'd get them a really cute one I saw the other day. But I was worried if they'd like it or not. They really seem to like ones with fun designs and I thought this would be up their alley."

"What a thoughtful gift! I'm sure they'll love it."

She pulled out the umbrella and handed it to Orville. "If you think the letter is good, would you mind sending it off with this attached before I get cold feet again?"

"Okidodoki!" Orville did his dodo magic and stuffed an umbrella into a letter and tucked it away. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"No thank you, Orville. I really appreciate your help."

"Any time!" He smiled, and Megan took her leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the sky darkened and rain poured down. Megan awoke to the sound of rain pattering against her windows, the rustling of the trees in the wind. She smiled, and went about making her breakfast. How fortuitous, now lollipop would be able to use their new umbrella. Just as she was putting her oatmeal on the stove, there was a knock at her door. Her heart jumped, was lollipop really up this early? She quickly opened her door, but instead found her black and white rabbit neighbor, Dotty, standing there with a bag.

"Morning! I could totes smell you cooking something scrumptious in there, so I thought I'd crash your breakfast party with some muffins!"

"Oh, good morning, sundae! Come on in, I'd love the company!" Megan let her inside. "Maybe even more than your muffins."

Dotty pulled the container of muffins from her bag and set them on her table. "I made them extra sweet, since I know that's your favorite." She took a carrot cake. "Anyway, whats up with you? Got any plans today?"

Megan took the oatmeal off of the stove and served them both. "Well, i was going to go do some exercises in the plaza later but I'm not sure now, with all this rain."

Dotty nodded "ugh, right? I'm soo ready for it to be summer, go away rain! I'm gonna craft this cool mask I thought up earlier. I was watching a streamer I like do this playthrough of a video game, and I was only half paying attention but I kept seeing these cuuute little forest things that wore leafs as masks! So I'm gonna go recreate them so I can do a little closet cosplay of them, doodle dip."

Megan smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. "That sounds like fun! I'll be sure to tell Riley you're crafting when I see them, you know how they love learning new DIY recipes."

An explanation mark appeared above Dotty's head. "Thats right! Weren't you working for like, eeeveerrr on finding them an umbrella? Whatd you settle on?"

Megan reached over and grabbed a lemon poppyseed muffin out of the container. "Well, i figured since they really seem to like umbrellas that look like something else, I'd get them one that looks like a kiwi."

Dotty put her hand on her chin, thinking, a thought bubble floated above. "Thats a super cute idea, but I am worried about what they might wear with that? I like, totally don't mean to bring you down but I don't think I know anything they usually wear that goes well with green and brown."

Megans blood ran cold. She hadn't even thought about what Riley normally wears.

"Oh gosh, I hadn't even thought of that! Shoot, I have to go see if Orville hasn't mailed it yet. Maybe I can still take it back!" Megan jumped up and threw on her raincoat.

"Wait, Megan, you really don't have to do that. I'm sure senpai-" but Megan was out the door before Dotty could finish.

*maybe there's still time... oh why didn't I consider this beforehand...*

Megan burst into Dodo Airlines, out of breath. "Orville!" She ran up to the counter. Startled by the sudden giant purple bear, Orville jumped, splashing coffee onto this uniform. Megans heart fell further.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Orville!"

Orville brushed himself off. "Thats okay, it happens more often than you'd think. What's got you in a tizzy?"

"I need to unsend that letter from yesterday, I've made a terrible mistake!"

Orville frowned. "But megan, we already went over how your letter was lovely. Besides, I already placed it in their mailbox, I can't just go and steal mail back."

Megans shoulders sagged. "Oh..." sighing heavily, she walked out.

Megan retreated to the coconut grove, sitting on one of the islands Riley had made. How could she claim to be a good friend if she didn't even notice their fashion choices? What else could she be neglecting to pay attention to? No one deserved an unobservant friend like her. Dotty had only been here a month and she knew more about lollipop than she did.

Maybe it would be best for her start over again. Maybe if she made a conscious effort to observe people from the beginning, she wouldn't miss things like this.

As she sat there thinking, a figure approached. She looked up to see lollipop, who was now rushing over to her.

"Megan! I got your letter! I-"

Megan put up a paw, shaking her head. "I know, it was foolish of me to send it. Look, i.... I think I need a fresh start, on a new island. I'm not growing that well here, I'm awful at noticing things. Maybe if I go somewhere new, I'll learn how to be a better bear and a better friend."

Riley's face fell. "Megan, how could you say that? You're a wonderful friend!"

Megans eyes filled with tears. "But... but Dotty has been here way less time than I have and she knows you so well!"

"Yeah, but you know me too. You know I love umbrellas and got me one I don't have yet! And look, it helped me coordinate an outfit for today!"

Megan wiped her eyes, actually taking in what lollipop looked like today. They were wearing a lovely green blossoming kimono, kimono sandals, and the kiwi umbrella. Megan smiled, and burst into laughter crying. Riley fumbled, looking distressed.

"Oh, uh, shoot, did I say something wrong?"

Megan shook her head, smiling. "Here i was, worried about not being observant enough, and I still didnt even notice what you were wearing. Can you ever forgive me?"

Riley hugged her. "Of course, you silly old bear. Our friendship is important to me, okay? My friendships with others will be inherently different, but that doesn't invalidate ours, I promise"

Megan nodded, hugging them back. "Thanks, lollipop. "

Riley looked up at them from their embrace. "Have I buttered you up enough to convince you to stay?"

Megan laughed. "Oh, all right. Maybe I'm right where I belong, after all."

Riley released her from the hug. "Anyway, just so we're clear: I love the umbrella. You really know me well."

Megan wiped away the last of her tears. "If my gift makes you happy, then I'm happy, sundae."

[silverdragon-imagines-blog]

A Glitched Death - Chapter 9 - The Concern

Read it on AO3 here

Okay, and here’s a similar note to what was on Chapter 7: I'm not putting this story on a hiatus, but I can't guarantee that the next chapter will be out on time. I don’t have any chapters finished/queued up for posting, and I’m still very much deep in the Linked Universe fandom (which I highly recommend to anyone who loves Legend of Zelda). I still want to finish this fic, but I don't have a ton of ideas for what should happen before it gets to the end, so catch me on Tumblr asking for prompts or ideas at some point. I also refuse to force myself to write this fic or any fic for that matter, so I won't try to stick to deadlines and risk writing something terrible. I hope you guys understand and thanks for sticking with me despite all this. ^u^

TLDR: Story still isn’t on hiatus, but I can’t promise any deadlines. I’m (sort of) running out of ideas for where this should go, and I’m still deep into my other fandom. Thanks for reading my story, I love and appreciate all of you. ^u^

Reaper was woken up by the insistent buzzing of the cell phone in his pocket, which frankly, wasn’t a new development anymore. He sat up on the guest bed he had been allowed to use during his stay in the Doodle Sphere, and for once, he picked up his phone and answered the call.

“Hell-“

“Do you know how fucking long I’ve been trying to reach you?!” Geno screeched, “You haven’t had any contact with me for weeks , Reaper! You better have a good fucking explanation once you get here! And that’s not when you get here, because you better be here. Today.”

Rather abruptly, the dial tone started up, Reaper sighing as he flopped back onto the bed. He understood Geno’s worry, he really did, but how could he explain all of the shit he’d been through as of late? And to do it in a way that wouldn’t make him even more worried? Practically impossible.

Knowing that he couldn’t lay there pathetically forever, he turned, stretching as he got up from the bed. Donning his usual black robe, he left the room, catching the conversation happening below.

“And you’re sure that’s what you saw?”

A pause, Reaper peered down the stairs and to the kitchen, where he could see Dream pacing as he talked on the phone.

“No no, I believe you. I just want to be absolutely sure,” Dream rubbed at his browbone, “Just-- please don’t do anything stupid? We can’t risk anything bad happening on your end, alright? … Okay, Ink, and I will try to meet up with you when we can. Goodbye.”

Dream only looked at Reaper for a moment, acknowledging the god with a nod before slumping into a chair at the table, hands propping his skull up by his forehead.

“Rough talk?” Reaper asked, getting a strained chuckle out of the other.

“I should be asking you that, correct?” Dream spoke, peering at the god as he made his way to the coffee pot, brewed specifically for him considering no one else drank the bitter-tasting drink.

“You mean Geno?”

“Who else besides Respite would call you on your phone?” Dream laughed, sitting up from his position, “You should probably go see him soon, you know.”

Reaper said nothing as he gathered up his mug, sitting opposite Dream. They sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the gentle ticking of a clock and the god indulging in his caffeine fix.

“You know you can’t avoid talking about the past forever, you know. I have a feeling Geno already suspects something is different.”

“The whole point of me seeking him out in the first place was so I didn’t have to talk about it.”

Reaper huffed as Dream shook his head, an unsettling mix of emotions clawing at the god’s SOUL.

“I can read emotions, Death, and yours tell a different story than what you speak,” Dream smiled softly, “It’s okay to talk to others about how you feel, and I’m sure your brother and Geno would be happy to listen, along with myself of course.”

The god didn’t respond, harshly putting his mug on the table causing the guardian to flinch. He stood, summoning his scythe and heading for the door, hand resting on the knob only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned sharply, scythe poised to strike, only to pause at the sight of Ink looking at him worriedly.

“I may not’ve been here for all of that conversation, but, Reaper, you need to at least explain what happened last time you were there, right?” Ink questioned, Reaper staring at him from under his hood, “From what I heard from Geno last time I visited, you shook him up really bad. He explained what happened and was nearly in tears, too. You scared the poor guy when you came to, brushed him off, and just left.”

A pit opened up in his SOUL at that, the fact that he caused that had guilt clawing at him. A small whine left him, sharply turning back to the door with more hurried movements to get it open and himself out than before. He wasted no time opening a portal to the Timeline Geno came from, getting into the void quickly, nearly falling on top of the small skeleton when he entered.

He squawked at the feeling of arms wrapping around him, sudden and yet, it was far from unwelcome.

“Reaper,” the small form breathed out, burying his face in the other’s cloak.

It took only a moment for the god to wrap his arms around the other, but he couldn’t find the words to speak, chest heavy with unshed tears and a growing voice echoing in his mind, chanting my fault. My fault. My fault. My f--

“You’re an idiot,” Geno spoke, muffled slightly by the heavy fabric.

Reaper laughed, strained, and not quite as strong as it once was. The small skeleton looked up at him, tears collecting in his sockets despite the glare he was trying to give.

“I’m sorry for making you worry about me,” Reaper warbled, tears starting to make their descent down his face, Geno’s joining soon after.

“It’s what friends do, right? I just--” Geno huffed, dragging the god over to the ugly beige couch, sitting them both down, “I couldn’t get your expression out of my head, how sad and simultaneously scared you looked. I assumed you were going to leave and never come back…”

“I would never do that to you,” Reaper gripped the other tighter, thoughts going back to before, tears beginning to fall faster, “I d-don’t want anyone to go th-through that.”

Geno ran his hand up and down the god’s back, an attempt to soothe the worries and stop the tears. Reaper tried to control himself, stop his sudden need to cling to the small skeleton next to him. After a few minutes, it faded, and he returned to control.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Reaper sighed, letting go of the other and moving out of his space, hand rubbing away the lingering tears.

“I… I know I should,” he faltered, looking up at the ‘sky’ of the void, “But I can’t… not yet anyway.”

“But Reaper--”

“I’ll tell you this much,” he interrupted, looking the small skeleton in the eyes as he spoke, “Before I met you… there was another skeleton. One that looked just like you that I was close with…”

Geno tilted his head to the side, frown settled onto his face. Reaper fought to control his thoughts from comparing them again, sighing and looking away.

“I still have questions, but…” Geno took a deep breath, grasping Reaper’s hand and squeezing it slightly, “I’ll wait until you’re ready to answer them.”

Reaper smiled at that, returning the squeeze.

“I appreciate it… I really do.”

They sat in silence for a while, trading squeezes back and forth until Geno let go to stand up, stretching his arms above his head. He turned, the smile on his face quirked up at the side.

“I do still need to yell at you over how worried you made me.”

Reaper laughed, a much more genuine and real laugh, sockets wrinkling at the sides. He could hear Geno giggling as well, and as he recovered, he found that he was happier now, that he wasn’t as sad. Though Geno did, in fact, yell out his frustrations, their smiles never wavered.

‘Things might just turn out okay after all.’

[ashes-and-ashes]

Birthday Part 1

A bit of backstory to this fic:

So tomorrow (July 15th) happens to be the amazing Aly’s birthday! Seeing as she is one of the most incredible people ever, I decided that I was going to write her a birthday fic.

Of course I had intended for it to be pure fluff, but my evil brain doesn’t work like that. After an hour, I seemed to have 2808 words of angst, with very little fluff. And (despite Aly being the Princess of Angst) I was not sure if she wanted such depression on her birthday.

So, I split the story up! Here is the first bit of angst, and I’ll post the fluffy bit tomorrow. The fluffy bit is purely dedicated to Aly, and I’ll write an incredibly long and gushy post about her tomorrow. However, here’s the first angst and depressing bit - hope it’s okay!

@withrewings

~

Sirius was going to explode.

It was March 4th, a mere 6 days before Remus’ birthday and Sirius still hadn’t managed to produce anything suitable for his present. He had started drawing in January, convinced that three months was enough for him to create something good enough to give to Remus, but the days had rolled by and suddenly Sirius was left with a sketchbook of half-finished drawings and a looming sense of dread.

He winced, bending back over the page, ignoring the shiny charcoal film covering the side of his hand. His fingers ached from grabbing onto the stub, his back sore from being hunched over the paper for hours, but Sirius didn’t really care. He bit his lip idly, tracing the curls of Remus’ hair, the tilt of his chin, the hollows carved into his back and arms -

“Goddamn it!” With a snarl, Sirius stood, interrupting Marlene’s rant about the Slytherin Girls. He hurled the sketchbook to the ground; the back cover bent with a slight crunch as it hit the floor, the pages flipping open to reveal the sketch he had just been working on. “God-fucking-damn it!”

The others barely looked his way - Sirius’ outbursts were common enough now that everyone had gotten used to the swearing and yelling. It was late at night - they were the only ones in the common room. James bent down, scooping up the book with one hand, eyes still fixed on Marlene. “Go on Marls. What did you say to her?”

“More like what did you do to her,” Dorcas muttered. “No way that girl made it out in one piece.”

Marlene flashed a quicksilver grin. “I hexed her nose off. Completely. Transfigured it into the tiniest mushroom attached to her ugly face. God, they were so mad.”

James let out a laugh, throwing his head back; in the background Sirius noticed one of the twins (Either Fabian or Gideon - the light from the fireplace was dim, and he couldn’t quite pick out the details on their faces) hand a galleon to Benjy, who was sitting on the mantle. “Priceless.”

Peter leaned forward, eyes wide. “How long do you have detention for?”

Marlene shrugged. “Detention will last 3 months. But the tales will last forever. I’ll be a goddamn Hogwarts legend.”

“You’re already one,” Lily assured her. She tapped James on the shoulder. “Prongs. Want to give Sirius his book back?”

With a smirk, James held the book out to Sirius, the covers still open to reveal the half-finished drawing. “Oh right. I forgot.”

Sirius snatched the sketchbook back, flipping him off. “Oh, shut up.”

They were all meant to be discussing Remus’ party (Remus having gone to bed ages ago) but the hours had ticked away and they had planned absolutely nothing. Sirius wasn’t surprised - nothing ever seemed to work when everyone got together, except for a whole heap of snogging between Marlene and Dorcas, and James and Lily.

He scowled down at the sketch in his lap, the half-finished outline of Remus, silhouetted against a huge moon, the curve of his spine mirroring the constellations twinkling above him. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth. “I’m so screwed.”

Lily looked surprised. “Why? That one is beautiful, Sirius. He’d love that.”

Sirius shook his head, violently flipping to another page. “No! This one is...is…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. She was sprawled in a huge chair, legs dangling over the side; Marlene gave her bare legs a long look before winking at Sirius. “I think this one is pretty.”

“God.” Sirius groaned, slamming the book shut. “It’s romantic. It looks like we’re dating or something.”

Benjy snorted, swinging his feet from where he was perched on the mantle. “Aren’t you already?”

Sirius flipped him off; he could feel blood rising to his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure Remus is straight, Benj.”

“Only one way to find out,” Kingsley muttered; the room erupted in laughter.

“I say,” mused Marlene, “That you should draw him in an intimate position.”

“Maybe with a collar,” Fabian called, “And chains, black leather and fishnets - “

Dorcas laughed. “A gag!”

“You should draw me in that!” Benjy yelled over the laughter. “I’d love to be drawn in collars and chains and black leather fishnet stockings.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius said. He scowled, staring down at his hands; there was a scar shaking across his index finger where his mother had broken it once. “You guys are absolutely useless.”

“Says the guy without a present,” Lily muttered. Sirius stuck his tongue out at her.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Look,” he began, “Remus is...Remus. He’d love anything you drew him. Stop over complicating it.”

Sirius spread his arms out wide. “Over complicating is what I do, darling.”

Benjy snorted. “I’d prefer that you do Remus.”

He was definitely blushing now, Sirius could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, spreading over the back of his neck like a flood. He scowled again, running a hand through his hair; it was already wild and tangled, paint and God knew what else caught in the dark locks. “You know what?” he said, then paused. “I was going to say ‘Screw you all’ but I reconsidered because I knew you would turn it into something about screwing Remus. So go eat a bowtruckle.”

He could hear Benny’s voice carry, even as he turned the corner and started up the stairs. “Why don’t you eat Remus?”

Sirius scowled. “Fuck off Benjy!”

~

Sirius glares down at the paper.

He knew he wasn’t going to give this one to Remus anyways. It wasn’t even the drawing that screwed it up - the paper was crinkled from where he had grasped it, the lines smudged and faded, too intense and too bold. It turned everything into hard lines, points instead of curves, edges instead of sweeps. He knew he was wasting time, drawing something that he would never, could never show Remus but it lessened the tightness in his chest, made it easier to breathe.

He had 2 sketchbooks. The first one had a red cover, and he used it for all his doodles. Pages of simple things: wand tips and goblets, candles and flowers, spellbooks and cauldrons and hundreds of unicorns. He brought that one everywhere, kept it in his school bag, was always doodling in it until the book was finished.

The second book was black, the cover heavy and Sirius always kept this one under his bed, because who wouldn’t know? This book contained everything - a boy on his knees, broken fingers, a single burning piano key. Scars, hundreds of them, rendered in perfect detail, all torn flesh and blood and bones, the lashes seared into his brain. He drew fingers with scar marks and backs with claw marks and even the broken, bleeding figure of an angel with its wings sawed off.

And Remus. This book was filled with Remus as well, all the shattered, beautiful parts of him, all the scars and cuts and marks. He drew Remus crying, and Remus screaming and sometimes he drew Remus kissing him.

He stared down at the drawing now, splayed on the page in front of him. He had hesitated when he drew him and Remus, but once he started he couldn’t stop. The charcoal spilled out of him, bleeding onto the paper, and everything was the same. Two boys kissing, the desperation clear in the clenching of their fingers or the arch of their spine, mused curls and closed eyes and scars like brushstrokes on their skin and Sirius couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

He wondered, sometimes, what Remus would say if he saw him, if he peeked into that black sketchbook, saw every dark crack in Sirius’ heart laid bare. Everyone had their secrets, he supposed. His were just more open than most.

There was a rustling sound from behind him; Sirius quickly flipped the page. It was late at night, the room filled with the sounds of people breathing, dreams spiraling into the air. The nightmare had woken Sirius up, the fractured visions of his parents and Death Eaters, and he had spent the rest of the night drawing, filling up even more pages in the sketchbook. He glanced down and started; the lines he had made were so dark that the colour had bled through the page, leaving smudges and streaks and the delicate tracery of lines carved into the page in front of him. He hastily closed the sketchbook, pulling the red one onto his lap, opening it to a random part in the book. Damn. This one was of Remus too, a idle study of him sleeping, his curls framing his face with gold.

He was about to turn the page again when the curtains on his bed flew open. It was as if his drawing had come to life; Remus stood there, golden curls forming a messy halo around his face, his eyes half lidded from exhaustion. He yawned, running his hands through his hair. “You okay?”

Sirius shrugged. “Sure.”

Remus frowned. “You’re always so closed off. It’s like you’re hiding something. Keeping something locked away.”

Yeah, my love for you, Sirius thought, but he didn’t say anything. He shifted, pulling the covers up around him, focusing on his breathing. Remus shot hi a concerned look.“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Sirius’ hands tightened around the blankets. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

Remus regarded him thoughtfully, then pulled the curtains wider. He slid into bed next to Sirius, gently rearranging the blankets until his warm legs tangled with Sirius’ cold ones. “It’s like lying in bed next to an ice sculpture.”

Sirius forced a laugh. Remus was too close right now; he was certain that he could feel his heart pounding. “It’s like lying in bed next to a furnace.”

Remus laughed, the sound warm and rich. God, Sirius could drown in that sound. He shifted over, giving Remus some more room, twisting until his head was tucked under Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the air smelling of wool and pine and clean cotton -

“Shit,” Remus said. “Is that me?”

With a jolt, Sirius opened his eyes; the book on his lap had fallen, the pages splayed open to reveal the sketch of Remus sleeping. He swallowed, hard, fighting to keep his voice steady. “No. It’s the fucking Duke of Alytown.”

Remus punched his shoulder. “Shut up.” With a shaking hand he reached over, picking the book up carefully, tilting it so the light fell on the pages and illuminated the drawing. “Did you...did you draw this?”

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His heart was hammering triple-time in his chest, like a huge drum - he was certain Remus could hear it. “Nope. I just fall asleep with drawings of you on my lap all the time. I actually commissioned Snape to draw this, you see - he would creep into our room at night and - “

“Jesus.” Remus’ mouth hung open, his eyes wide as he turned the drawing back and forth. This close Sirius could see his eyelashes, golden against his skin, so fine that it looked as if they were spun from spider silk. “God. This is beautiful, Sirius.”

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius said, then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Smooth, Sirius. Real smooth you fucktard.

Remus laughed, more in shock then anything. “Me? I’m not...I’m not…”

“Beautiful?”

Remus looked down at his hand. “Yeah.” He pauses, clearly struggling with something; his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk before he continued. “Just look at me. I’m...I’m ruined. I’m scarred all over.”

Sirius bit his lip, hard. In his mind he saw his back, the lashes standing out like lines of silver, raised and thick and livid. He swallowed, hard. “Sometimes the cracks are the most interesting part of a sculpture.”

The barest edge of a smile ghosted over Remus’ face. “But it’s still ruined all the same.”

If only you could see, Sirius thought, If only you could see how beautiful you are, how perfect you’ve become. If only I could draw you the way I see you.

He coughed; with a steady hand he tore the sketch out of his book, handing it to Remus. “Keep it,” he said, then shook his head at the shocked expression on Remus’ face. “It’s yours now. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I’ll just whip up another drawing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and a beautiful, dazzling smile raced across Remus’s face, making it look like the sun had coated him in strands of liquid gold. Beautiful, Sirius thought, and his heart gave a painful twist in his chest.

“Thanks Sirius. But I don’t…I don’t need this, you know. All I want is...is you, I guess. Your heart. I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.”

Sirius looked down. “Anything for you, Re.”

~

He couldn’t stop himself from drawing Remus.

The black sketchbook was open on his lap again, a fresh page blank and empty. His hands were dark, coated in the shiny-grey of graphite, his clothes covered in the stuff. He had been drawing for ages without taking a break, his eyes dropping from exhaustion and yet he allowed the sketch to bleed out of him, splattering across the page.

He was almost done the black sketchbook, had only a few pages left. Usually a book would last him 6 months, but he had filled half the book in less then 3 weeks. It was like he was an addict, thirsting for something he could never have, lightning and thunder and rain echoing through his veins. He couldn’t stop himself now, even as he continued filling the pages, Remus staring up at him from every angle.

Sirius took a shaking breath. It felt like he was underwater, drowning in his feelings for Remus, threatening to blow him apart with every gasping inhale of air. He set the pencil to the paper, letting his mind take over, the curve of Remus’ eyes gradually starting to fill the page.

He remembered the first time he had seen Remus, 5 years ago, standing in the compartment of a train as the sun went down over the hills. He was with James, wild and rebellious because for the first time ever he was free, when the door had opened and Remus had stepped into the compartment.

There was something different about him, even back then, some ethereal way that Remus moved. He remembered how the light had hit Remus’ face in just the right way, casting his features into shadow, making him look like some beautiful bronze statue and all Sirius could do was stare.

There was always some part of him that had loved Remus, but it really hit him in 4th year. He had been playing Quidditch, backlog against the setting sun, and he had looked down and seen Remus in the stands and his heart swelled up and he couldn’t breathe. He knew it then, while hurtling through the sky on his broom, knew he would have given up anything to make Remus happy.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a sharp crack; he had pressed down so hard on the pencil that it had shattered, pieces skidding all over his sheet. Sirius scowled, glaring down at the page - there was a boy on a broom and a boy on the ground, the light hitting them until it looked like a spotlight, wind whipping their hair around them. He swore, staring down at his hands - it was so obvious. All it would take was for someone to look at his book to know what he felt towards Remus. He couldn’t burden Remus with that, the unrequited feelings of a shattered boy. Remus had already been through far too much - Sirius couldn’t heap another load onto his shoulders.

But what if he did? The thought rose up unbidden. What if he did like you?

His mind flickered back, sorting through the memories of the year - the Train, Remus’ hands tight around his neck. The Christmas Feast, sitting together under the cold half moon. January, grasping onto Remus’ fingers, the desperation in his eyes as he began to change. Valentine’s Day, a single chocolate, a whispered conversation. Sirius, I…

“I what?” Sirius had said.

Remus shook his head. “Never mind.”

So many moments, so many hidden touches, and Sirius’ heart was pounding because what if? What if there was a chance?

He was gripping the sketchbook tightly, so hard that the cover was digging into his palms, scoring lines across his palm. Remus had told him what he wanted that night, didn’t he? I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.

“My heart,” Sirius said, out loud to the wind. Slowly, his hands tightened around the sketchbook.

He knew exactly what to give to Remus tomorrow.